by R. J. Ross
“Shouldn’t your mom be your favorite girl? I mean, I can be one of them, sure, but Mom is MY favorite girl, and then there’s Emily and Zoe and Doris and Ariel and I REALLY like Sandra! Oh, but we can’t forget Liz! I love Liz! She’s the best big sister EVER—“
“I get it, I get it, you love lots of people,” he says, laughing. “But… well, it’s better for all of us if I stay on this side of the super line.”
“But she’s your mom,” I say. Don’t get me wrong, I understand ALL about the super line. “I would like to meet her.”
He heads for the barbecue grill, not replying to that. I can practically feel him thinking. “I… well, Skye, you know I love you a lot, right?”
“Awww, you’re gonna make me blush!” I say, squealing happily.
“Well, the point is…” he says, making me go quiet. “If she thinks I’m a bit… scary, well… you’d probably terrify her.”
I know, I think, changing my hold to a hug. “I terrify lots of people,” I tell him seriously, only to yelp as water squirts me in the back. “What the heck?” I demand, whirling around to see Century standing in the middle of a crowd of little kids, holding a squirt gun in his hands. It’s not a LITTLE squirt gun, it’s one of those that are roughly the size of a shotgun. He’s wearing swimming trunks and a pair of sunglasses.
“Okay, boys and girls,” he says, motioning to the kids, “ATTACK!”
Water drenches me as they all start firing. The smallest one barely comes up to Century’s knee, and giggles as I squeal, trying to block the water with my arms. Oh, sure, I could let the water go THROUGH me, but where’s the fun in that? Rocco starts laughing, moving so he’s hiding behind me. He’s like, a foot taller, so it’s not working very well, but he seems to enjoy trying.
“ARRRIIEEELLL!” I shout.
“On it, Skye!” she says cheerfully. The children look up in shock as the water from the lake rises over their heads in a wave before crashing down.
“Bringing a water mimic to a water gun fight is foul play!” Century says, having covered the smallest of the group with his body.
“We’re villains!” I say cheerfully, racing off to get my favorite water gun. For now, I’ll let Rocco think I’ve forgotten about his mom problem. “Also, I specifically said you weren’t invited, Mister!”
“I suppose I’m the villain, today, then,” he says.
“Doris! PREPARE THE WATER BALLOONS!” I order, striking a “Captain Jack” pose.
“Aye aye!” she says, heading for the hidden stash of balloons.
***
Rocco grins as he moves over to the barbecue grill. His eyes are on the fight, but he doesn’t even blink as a drink is handed to him by Jimmi. “Hey, Jimmi, good to see you again,” he says.
“You’re not even looking at me,” she says. “Papa, do you need any help?”
“Si, you can start preparing the sides for the burgers,” Voltdrain says, smiling at her offer.
“Oh, I can help—“ Rocco says, finally looking over. “I’m never going to get used to that,” he says, almost to himself.
“Used to what?” Voltdrain asks, flipping a burger.
“Well, the contrast between your power level and your frilly apron, to start with,” Rocco says, looking pointedly at the pink frilly apron that says, “Villains do it with Style” across the front.
“It is Skye’s,” Voltdrain says with a huge grin. “I am growing quite fond of it, though.” He tugs lightly on one of the ruffles. “I believe that her mama has sent it to her, it is very nicely embroidered!”
“Tatiana made it?” Rocco says, startled.
“Si!”
They all start to laugh.
“What’s all the laughter about, hmm?” Dolly asks, making them all look up. The petite woman is wearing a red and white polka dot bikini and a pair of high heels, along with a floppy white sun hat and oversized red sunglasses. She’s got a bag of swimming supplies over her wrist and a bottle in her hand. “I brought a housewarming gift!” she declares happily.
“WE brought a housewarming gift,” Ruckus says, dressed in a much more simplistic white one piece. “You made me pay half, remember? Who are you?” she asks Rocco, looking at him curiously. “You look familiar…”
“Nightstep,” Rocco says, holding out his hand.
“Oh! You’re Skye’s precious nephew!” Dolly exclaims.
“The good looking one, instead of the super cute one,” Ruckus agrees, glancing at Dolly with a twitch of her lips.
“We see pictures of you all the time,” Dolly explains. “We’re going to go up against you sooner or later, right?”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees.
“That means I’m going to go up against you as well, right?” Jimmi says. “Me and…“ she stops, chewing on her bottom lip for a second. “How IS Vinny, anyway?”
“Not bad, but I think he misses you,” Rocco says.
“Really?” she asks, excitedly.
“Or it might be your dad that he misses,” he admits, “he’s kind of hard to read.” Voltdrain chokes on a laugh, looking away from them, his shoulders shaking from amusement.
“ROCCO!” Skye yells over to him. “Get over here and fight for my honor!!”
“What honor?” he yells back, “You’re a villain!”
“My honor as a villain!”
“How can I argue something like that?” Rocco asks the others, handing Jimmi his drink and rushing into the water fight.
***
“Aaaah, I’m tired,” Doris says as she floats past me on a pool floatie. “All those little kids…”
“You didn’t have to take them all for a flight, you know,” Ariel points out from her blow-up killer whale. “You could have said no.”
“They didn’t scream as much as I’d planned,” Doris says with a scowl.
“Your plan of terrifying them pretty much backfired,” I say cheerfully. I’ve got the floating island and chair, but that means the girls keep coming over to get their drinks from my table. “You should try and be more like me!”
They both look at me. “Did you see her terrifying ANYONE today?” Doris asks Ariel.
“She might have scared a fish!” Ariel offers. Everyone’s gone, except for us, but at least they cleaned up after themselves! It’s good to have black suits, I guess.
“I scared more than one fish!” I protest, proudly.
“She scared an entire school of them,” Doris says dryly. Ariel starts giggling.
I shoot them both a dirty look before sighing and taking a drink. “Girls…” I say, only to hesitate.
“What?” Ariel asks.
“What happened?” Doris asks.
“I’m… um…” I try to think of how to put what’s worrying me into words. “I love Rocco, you know?”
“Like, marriage sort of love?” Ariel asks, stunned.
“Nooo, that’s icky, we’re aunt and nephew!” I protest, making a face. “I love him like he’s my own kid!”
“You’re not old enough to be his mommy,” Ariel says.
“You know what I mean! But the problem IS his mommy,” I say, frowning. “I don’t like it. I mean, there’s a lot of stuff in his past that’s… not good, and I’m going to bop Marigold on the head for what she did to him someday, but… but he should at least have a good relationship with his mom, right?”
They’re both quiet, and I look at them. Doris shrugs. “I never met my mother. I always sort of wondered if my dad ate her.”
“Okay, that’s… really gross,” I say, finally.
“I’m pretty sure the ocean just sort of spit me out when someone dropped nasty glowing ooze in it,” Ariel says.
“That’s… not nearly as disturbing as Doris’s theory is, so I’m good with that one,” I decide.
“So does that mean I send glowing ooze a mother’s day card? Or would it be the father’s day card?” Ariel asks.
“I vote father,” Doris says.
“And we should go visit you
r mom on mother’s day!” I say. “Beach day!”
“Sounds like fun,” Ariel says.
“So what are you going to do about Rocco’s mom, Skye?” Doris asks. Of the three of us, she’s the only one that tends to stay on topic. I really need to break her of that bad habit—it’s bad for her health!
“Ooooh, I don’t know,” I say, “maybe we should go visit?”
The two look at me and smirk.
***
The thing is—the very important, big deal, VITAL thing is… well, Rocco’s mom is a norm, right? I have no idea how to find her. That’s why me, Ariel, and Doris are now posing dramatically around a tied up Century in his South Hall office. We have Century CAPTURED!
“You’ll never get away with this,” Century says in a bland voice.
“I know I said one of us should do it, but why am I the one that has to hold him down?” I ask Doris. I’m sitting across Century’s lap, just in case he tries anything funny. It’s only right that of us does the sexy pose for this sort of thing—we’re a group of southern femme fatales! We live and breathe sexiness (well, sort of… at least I try! Doris and Ariel ignore it most of the time.) But when we voted it was two to one!
“Well, you’re the one making the phone call, right?” Ariel says, leaning on the back of the chair. “So you need to be right in the screen!”
“Tell us how to call Marigold!” Doris demands as she pokes Century in the head with her water gun.
“Ariel, trade places with me!” I order.
“Sorry, but Doris says I can’t,” she says, giving me an innocent look. “She outranks me.”
“But I outrank her! I’m the leader, here! I don’t feel like being the sexy one this time!”
“Oh, quit whining, Skye! And we all know you’re lying. You ALWAYS feel like being the sexy one,” Doris says.
“Doris, darlin’, you just need to tap on the second button to the left of your hand—there you go,” Century says helpfully. I look at him, and get a grin in response. “Anything to bug Marigold is perfectly fine with me, Sugar,” he says.
“What’s all this about?” the brassy haired woman demands from the screen in front of us. “Century, REALLY?”
“I’m being held hostage,” Century says, innocently. “Talking to you was their first demand.”
“Really,” she repeats, clearly not believing him.
“We want information!” I say, sitting up. “Give us what we want or Century gets it!”
“As much as I’m positive he’d enjoy that, I refuse,” she says. “Tell Voltdrain that I look forward to working with him.”
“Hey, hey, don’t be mean to Skystep! It’s not nice,” Ariel says. “And we set this up just for you, you know! You can at least tell us one teeny tiny little fact!”
“That’s right,” Doris agrees.
“Do what they want, Marigold, I’m begging you,” Century says. I feel his hand on my waist and turn, glaring at him as I realize that he tore the rope. I didn’t even NOTICE!
“Get back in your ropes, mister,” I tell him, poking him.
“This is just sad,” Marigold says, shaking her head. “You really let those girls walk all over you, don’t you?” she says to Century.
“They’ve been playing extremely well with others, lately,” he says cheerfully. “Who am I to deny some of the biggest stars of my Hall? What is it you ladies want, anyway?” he asks me.
“We want to know where Rocco’s mom lives!” I say. “He’s my new nephew, so I need to meet her!”
“And why didn’t you ask Rocco for that information?” Marigold asks.
“He doesn’t want to tell me,” I say, looking down. “He seems to think she’s scared of him.”
Marigold is silent for a moment, and then she lets out a heavy sigh. “She is,” she says. “She… well, you aren’t filming this, are you?” she asks.
“No, ma’am,” Century says. “Do you really think I’d let them show three little girls getting the drop on me this easily?”
“What happened with Rocco’s mom?” I ask, ignoring the hand that’s still there. I’ll punch him for it later, right now more important things are going on.
“Back when he first developed his powers, he broke into Fort Knox,” she says. “I’m sure you’ve heard about it, but what you don’t know is that I planned on dragging him back to the apartment he lived in, at first.”
“What?” I say, shocked. “But he said you chased him for years!”
“And I did,” she says, “because when I got to his mother’s house… well… her reaction wasn’t what I was expecting.”
***
*Four Years Ago*
“Ms. Stiltz? Can I speak with you?” Marigold asks after knocking on the door of the rather small apartment. The walls are thin, the carpets are ragged, and she hears several babies crying in the distance. She also hears the woman inside the apartment let out a heavy sigh.
The door swings out and a rather harried looking woman glares at her. “What?” she demands.
“Your son—“
Ms. Stiltz looks at the symbol on Marigold’s chest. “So you’ve finally come to get him? Well, you’re too late, he’s not here.”
“Come to get him?” Marigold asks.
“He’s one of you, isn’t he? His eyes glow in the dark, you know. I walked into his room and there were two glowing eyes in the crib…” She takes a deep breath. “It just got worse as he got older. He would walk through the apartment in the middle of the night, never bumping into anything, never bothering to turn on a light. When I got home from a midnight shift, he would be there, watching, with glowing eyes. You couldn’t hear him move, you didn’t know when he would just appear. The neighbors are scared of him,” she says, as if that justifies her talking about her own son this way.
“Ms. Stiltz… your son is special, but—“
“Do you know how many men have been scared off by that boy? I think I’ve found Mr. Right, but the moment I introduce them to my kid—ha, I’m sure you can imagine. Or can’t,” she adds, looking at Marigold.
“I see,” Marigold says quietly. “I’ve met many norm parents that… feel differently.”
“They were probably the ones with the cute kids, with those comic book style powers,” Ms. Stiltz says, only to look away. “My son travels through shadows. He even smells like he’s been spending time with the devil. Whether consciously or not, people notice, don’t think they don’t. He’s got all the thugs in the neighborhood knocking at the door. I tried to be a good mom,” she whispers. “I tried... it’s just more than I can… do. This—this is more than I can handle, bringin’ Hall leaders straight to my door—usually a mom just needs to worry about the cops!”
“So you’re saying I should do what I feel is right?” Marigold asks.
“He’s on a path that leads to no good. I can’t straighten him out, I’ve tried. You do it,” Ms. Stiltz says before closing the door in her face. “Don’t let him come back here,” she yells through the door.
Marigold stares at the door, her face impossible to read.
***
“So why didn’t you take him in?” Century asks, frowning, “Get him a foster home?”
“That boy—“ Marigold says, “when I first started trying to find him, I TRIED to bring him in, but he’s a slippery little brat. He ran the moment he saw me. Don’t think he was sleeping in alleys, though. He could go anywhere he wanted—and he did.”
***
*The Past*
“I thought about bringing in the police, but the bad publicity was more than I could handle,” the hotel manager says as he leads Marigold down the hall. “I don’t believe in ghosts—especially ghosts that watch television and take showers. We’ve had several of our best maids threaten to quit because they swear they feel like someone’s watching them. And the people on this floor have complained about their room service being half-eaten, or completely gone by the time they bring it into their room.”
“Is it this
one?” Marigold asks as they stop in front of the room at the end of the hall.
“Tell me the truth, Marigold. ARE there such things as ghosts?”
“Not that I know of, sir, but if there are, I really doubt they eat,” she says, watching him unlock the door and motion her in. She looks around and then heads straight for the bedroom.
“Then do you think I’m right? Is it a super?” he asks, looking even more nervous than when he’d mentioned ghosts.
“It’s a very real possibility, sir. There’s nothing on your security camera, but there are signs that someone’s been living here,” she says as she looks at the messy bedding. She hasn’t mentioned that she’s got a very good idea of who it is. The kid’s still a minor. The last thing she wants is to make the world aware of him. “I… hate to say this sir, but it might be too dangerous for someone… of your stature to stick around.”
“You won’t destroy anything, will you?” he asks, worriedly.
“I will do my utmost not to, but in the case something is destroyed, feel free to send the bill to the Hall. In fact, send the bill for this hotel room, as well. I’ll be sure to get it covered.” Then she gently, but firmly pushed him towards the door.
“I can’t tell you how thankful I am for your help, Marigold. I was certain you would send someone else—“
“I would never do such a thing,” she says. “You’ve been very helpful whenever we throw our conventions. In fact, our fan site has several people posting rave reviews for your place.”
“Oh, really? Well, we do enjoy our supers and their fans,” he says, cheering up. “I also have to thank you for linking our site on yours! We’ve really gotten a boom thanks to our good relations.”
“That’s good to hear,” she says, and then promptly closes the door in his face. “Alright, kid,” she says, her voice low, “time for you and me to have a little talk.”
She hears the faintest of yelps from the bathroom and races for it, swinging the door open. She’s there just in time to see the boy turn the lights off. When she turns them back on a second later, he’s gone.
