Fate Sucks Chapter 8: Whateley Version

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The next day I had to call my friends and tell them I couldn't see them. I really wanted to, we'd planned to see a couple of movies and relax to some music, but learning how to control my powers was more important. So after breakfast Mom took Theresa and Kota out, while Dad and I went to his office.

His office was strange. In one corner was his computer on a basic 50 dollar desk, with a filing cabinet beside it on one side, and a scanner, fax machine, copier and printer on the other side. There was one chair for guests, that was Mom ninety percent of the time. The rest of the room was bare. There was a small stone bowl, with some incense beside it in a small wooden box, that was it, the floor was padded for sitting on.

“Sit down, Estelle, and make yourself comfortable, but keep your back straight,” Dad told me.

While I got comfy sitting cross legged on the soft floor, Dad placed the incense in the bowl and lit it. Sitting across from me, also cross legged, he began to talk softly. “Close your eyes. Breath normally through your nose. Feel your breath, the way your chest expands and contract. The cool air entering your sinuses, warming up as it goes towards your lungs. Now smell the smoke, let it fill you.”

I followed his instructions. I recognized the cedar incense, it smelled a little like pencils, reminding me of camping trips I'd take with my parents in the summer. My mind began to wander, thinking about the trip to the Rockies last summer, and wondering if we would go camping next summer with Uncle Herb like we'd planned. That got me thinking about school, and my breathing sped up.

Dad noticed I wasn't thinking calm thoughts. “Focus on your breathing. Let your thoughts go. Your mind wants to chase them like a dog chasing a ball, but focus on your nostrils, on the breath. Breath naturally, there is nothing wrong here.”

I thought about my nose. How it flared a little bit with each breath, how something was tickling it making me want to scratch it. When I did scratch it, I thought about what it would be like to have a mustache. Would it be itchy? Hot? Scratchy? Was it hard to shave? I shaved my legs every three or four months once I turned twelve, so I knew how to shave, but putting a razor by my face seemed like a good way to get cut.

Shaking my head I thought about my breathing again.

I won't bore you with how long I sat there, trying to think about my breathing, while the scent of cedar filled the room, and my Dad ensured I stayed focused with his calm words. But when we finally stopped, I was amazed that it was almost lunchtime.

“How do you feel?” he asked, putting a stone lid on the bowl.

“I don't know. How should I feel?”

He gave a half smile, “However you want, this isn't a science. Let's get some lunch.”

“What would you like me to make?” I asked as we headed for the kitchen.

“Use your imagination.”

He sat down at the island, while I dug through the fridge, pulling out some eggs, vegetables, and left over pork chops from the night before. I started chopping, them up while Dad watched me.

“What are you most afraid of?” he asked me suddenly.

I pretended not to hear him.

“When I manifested your grandparents didn't take it very well,” he said. I knew about all of that, according to Mom they'd only reconciled after I was born, and despite that things were still very cool when they visited once a year. “I went from being a sickly, little guy with bad skin and horrible asthma and within five months I was strong, tough, I could fly and shot invisible waves of energy from my hand. But those first few months were terrifying. My eyes changed colour first. Mutants were even less common then, and the eye change wasn't widely known. I was taken to dozens of doctors trying to find out what was wrong. Your grandma had me convinced I was going to die. Then I started growing so quickly and my muscles didn't grow quite as quickly as my bones, the regular, minor aches and pains of being a growing teenager, were excruciating for me. I'd spend whole days in bed, wishing the pain would stop.”

He got up to get a glass of water, while I kept getting the food ready.

“Grandma held near constant vigils by my bedside, certain I wasn't going to make it through the night. And I spent a lot of time in hospitals, I was so certain I was going to die, I wrote a will.” He chuckled at that morbid thought. “One day it got so bad, I knew, absolutely knew I was going to die. Then I blew out the entire outside wall of my room.”

“You never told me about that,” I said, checking a pan on the stove.

Dad shrugged. “I didn't want to worry you more than I had to. Anyways, the police were called, they found Grandma and I hysterical, with a demolished wall and a shattered tree. Fortunately the MCO wasn't really important back then, and they called up some superheroes from Vancouver and I got sent to Whateley. Until those heroes talked to me, I was certain my life was over and even if I survived the pain I'd be even more of an invalid than I already was.”

The vegetables and pork hit the hot pan with a crackling sizzle, salt, pepper, chives and thyme followed. “Are there any stories about Mom that I should know about.”

“Not really. She changed, thought about robbing banks, decided it was stupid and called the Dominion Heroes HQ demanding to be let on the team.”

I smiled a little, Mom always made the story sound better, but at least Dad didn't take half an hour to tell it, while acting out the motions.

“So you're telling me I shouldn't panic?” I asked.

“Nope,” he said quickly, then stopped with his head cocked to the side. “Well yes, kind of. Panicking doesn't do anything except make you stupid. You know that, we've told you about it enough times. But being afraid, now that, that is fine. If you weren't afraid I'd be worried. When I changed, I was terrified, and it took months, to recover, even after I was told what was happening to me.”

“Mom wasn't scared.”

“True, but your mother is insane,” he explained. “A wonderful woman and mother, but you've seen how she acts while on the job. She's an adrenaline junky and has been for as long as I've know her. If you told her the world was going to end tomorrow, she'd be running to the front line with a smile.”

I poured the scrambled eggs into the pan, adding some cummin, while nodding in agreement.

“Now, you definitely aren't your mother, you're way too cautious for that. I hope to god you aren't me,” he said with a wry grin. “So what are you most afraid of?”

Stirring the eggs, I kept my head down. Still not answering, I put some of the raw vege's I'd cut up into a bowl, quickly buttered some bread, and scooped the scrambled eggs onto the plates. It wasn't a traditional lunch, but it would taste good. Putting a plate in front of Dad, I sat on the other side, so I could look at him.

“I won't be me,” I whispered.

“Who are you? The body or the mind?”

“Does it make a difference?”

He held up his glass. “We have a glass of water, it's just water surrounded by glass, nothing special.” Grabbing a mixing bowl from a cupboard, he poured the water into it. “Now it's water in a metal bowl. Has it changed? A little, it's not as deep now, it's spread out a little more, but it's still water. It hasn't magically turned into juice or alcohol. The basic shape is different, but that's all. It's still wet, it's still clean and refreshing. You still need it to survive. So I'll ask you again, are you the body or the mind?”

“How long did it take you to think of that?” I asked.

Dad chuckled. “Your mother and I have been working on it all month, how was it?”

“I'm still afraid.”

“Are you panicking?”

I thought about it for a while, Dad let me. When we were both finished eating, I told him the truth. “Yeah, I am.”

“You're definitely my little girl,” he said with a sigh. “On the 27th, we're having a guest come to visit us. You don't know her, but she's like you and Kota, she was a boy and now she's a girl. Your Mom and I want you to talk to her, with Kota if you can, without her if you want. She can answer some of your questions, and maybe help you realize that you'll still be you.”

Taking our plates to the dishwasher, I quietly said, “I hope so.”

“Come on Princess, lets go do a light workout and then I can teach you some breathing exercises.”

**

I woke up on Christmas morning in the usual way, with Christmas carols blaring from the living room. Being almost fourteen, I didn't rush downstairs, instead I quickly did my business in the bathroom, threw on my slippers and housecoat, and walked, a little quickly, downstairs where my parents were waiting for me, with mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table. The tree was surrounded by presents, including a large trunk that could be pulled along like a suitcase.

Blowing my parents a kiss, I grabbed my mug and was about to sit down when I remembered something. “Do Theresa and Kota, know to come out?”

“I told them last night, and knocked on their doors five minutes ago,” Mom said.

The doorbell rang, I looked at my parents in question, they just smiled and waved for me to get the door. Curious, I headed for the entrance way, wrapping my housecoat around me a little tighter in anticipation of the bitterly cold air. Looking through the peephole, I started to grin, and threw open the door, flinging myself into Uncle Herbs arms.

“Merry Christmas, Kitten! Let me in, it's cold enough to freeze my fur off,” he said, lifting me up and trudging inside. Not letting me down he put down his enormous suitcase, slipped off his boots and coat, easily shifting me from arm to arm.

“What are you doing here?” I asked kissing his nose.

“Vancouver is too damp, so I thought I'd freeze my butt off here. Where is everyone?” he asked, grabbing his suitcase again.

“Living room,” I answered simply, rubbing my face in his cold fur. We made our way to the presents, and I heard a gasp as we came in.

“Theresa!” Uncle Herb roared. “How's Whateley treating you?”

“It's great, Super Bear. I've gotten so good at controlling my powers, and the teachers are great!” Theresa said. “Oh this is my roommate, Kota.”

Kota was holding her hot chocolate, and stared wide eyed up at Uncle Herb.

“Hello Kota,” Uncle Herb said slowly.

She gave herself a shake, and smiled a little. “Hi, Super Bear.”

“Both of you can call me Herb, or Uncle Herb if you want,” he told them. “We're at home, and I've never been one for a secret identity, it never seemed to suit me for some reason.”

That got a chuckle from everyone, while Mom got up to give him a hug, and Dad patted his broad back, giving him a huge stein of hot chocolate. “It's great to see you Herb. How was the drive?”

“Easy, my modified SUV just blasted the snow away. But enough of that, it's Christmas, and I have presents.” He put me down on the couch, and opened up his suitcase. “If you don't mind I'll start the proceedings.”

“Feel free,” my parents said.

Opening up his suitcase, Uncle Herb pulled out two small presents, handing them over to Kota and Theresa. “I know girls love phones, so I thought you'd both like these. They're gadgets, so don't worry they'll keep working as long as you don't decide to jump on them or something.”

They ripped open the gold packaging, revealing two pink cellphones, that were about as large as their hands with a glass screen instead of buttons. Uncle Herb showed them how to turn them on, and took two minutes setting up passwords and explaining the basics, including how to get the wifi working. Theresa was thrilled with it, and Kota seemed happy, except for a very small wrinkling of the nose when she saw the colour.

While Theresa was hugging Uncle Herb and telling him how awesome the phone was, I leaned over and whispered in Kota's ear, "Black nail polish will cover up the pink no problem."

She gave me a small smile in thanks, and really began studying the phones features.

Then it was my turn. “Kitten, your parents told me about your problem. This is a bit of jury rig, I'll have a better system set up in a few weeks, but this should work for now.”

Taking the gift which looked like a large jewelry box curiously. Opening it revealed some weird jewelry, there were eight rings, they were divided into two piles with four rings in each pile. The rings were connected to each other by long chains that ended in a small silver band. “Um, thanks.”

“Go grab your bracelets, and it will all make sense.”

I was up and back in about a minute, putting the bracelets on as I jogged.

“Ok, put the rings on, with the chains on top. Then just put the little band under the bracelet, it hooks right on,” he told me.

I did what he said, and while the tiny chains were annoying, they were just long enough that they didn't get in the way or anything. It definitely wasn't my style, especially with my warm, pink housecoat. Before I could do anything other than look confused, Uncle Herb took my hands and made sure they were attached properly.

“Now try to blast some electricity. Just a few sparks.”

Feeling the tiny charge that was my now constant companion, I pointed my hand at the empty fireplace, just in case I put a bit too much energy into it. Pushing the energy out, I could tell there should be sparks but they stopped at my fingers, and I heard the little whine from my bracelets telling me that they were charging up. “This stops my powers!”

Uncle Herb gave a rumbling, happy growl. “They're a devise, they're simple enough so you should only need me to look them over ever few months, and they'll only survive a low level charge. If you get into a fight and shoot something powerful enough to knock out a cat or a dog, it will fry them on the first try.”

I looked at my parents with pleading eyes. “I can keep going to school now?”

“You've got practice without them first, they're a devise so they could fail at the worst moment,” Dad said sternly, then his face eased a bit. “But you have a bit of leeway now.”

Jumping back into Uncle Herbs arms, I blew my parents a huge kiss. All I had to do now was figure out how to explain my sudden lack of fashion to my friends. The rest of the morning was spent opening presents. We all had a bunch, Mom even went and pulled out a whole bundle from the closet for Uncle Herb, that I'd thought she'd mailed a week ago.

Halfway through, Dad gave me a small box with a big smile, and when I opened it I saw it was the turquoise necklace and earring set I'd seen the day before at the mall. I couldn't resist putting the greenish blue jewelry on right away and ran to see how it looked in the mirror. Turning around, there were tears in my eyes as I thought how beautiful I looked. I was even able to forget that I wouldn't be able to wear them in a few months.

The other big surprise was for Kota. The trunk was for her, and it was wrapped up in a big red bow. When she hesitantly opened it and opened it up, her face fell for a second. It was full of clothes.

Mom walked up behind her to give her a hug. “Kota, you need some new clothes, but I kept your tastes in mind. The ones on top are trousers, capris and other pants that are loose, along with sweaters and shirts that won't hug your body. As your comfortable, go a little deeper, you can take as much time as you need.”

Uncertainty was written on her face, but Kota pulled a pair of grey trousers out of the box, and they looked like they would be a bit on the baggy side. Still a small smile appeared and she reached around to hug Mom, whispering a very quiet thank you.

Soon the presents were all unwrapped, and it was time to get dressed for breakfast. Mom had all the wrapping paper picked up before we were out the door with our booty, while Dad and Uncle Herb went to get breakfast ready.

Spending a bit of time, I got myself made up with a bit of makeup, a pretty dark blue sweater with a long black skirt, my new jewelry and the not so pretty devise. A final check in the mirror and a bit of combing for her short hair, and I was ready to go.

Theresa was already in the kitchen, where Dad and Uncle Herb were getting the toast and eggs ready, wearing a pair of comfortable pants and a blouse. The four of us talked for a bit, with Theresa and I cutting up some fruit. When we finished ten minutes later, Mom and Kota had finally come out. Kota was wearing a pair of new black trousers and a plain white blouse, both of which were a little too loose to be fashionable, but looked nice enough. Kota didn't look comfortable, but I couldn't really recall when she had looked completely comfortable except for when she'd been talking about parkour. At least she didn't seem to be really uncomfortable or grouchy.

We sat down and just started talking about whatever was on our mind, our favourite gifts, and things like that. Uncle Herb and I got into a big discussion of what we should make for supper and we pretty much forgot everyone else.

It was nice, and the entire day was just as good, with the two of us kicking everyone out of the kitchen so we could experiment.

Even with the funny jewelry on my hands, that Christmas was one of the good ones.

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Good

Tas's picture

I'm glad to see things working out fairly well for now, gotta take those times when you can get them.

-Tas

Loose fitting clothing

Nothign wrong with that. The potato-sack look has served girls well since 1750!

Adjustments

Jamie Lee's picture

Throw Kota into the deep end of the pool right now and she'll drown. But let her progress at her own pace and she may eventually adjust. Her main problem now is stop letting her brothers continue to have control of her life. It won't be easy, but she needs to spit on them and move on, take back who she is now and that she is a legal person. Wonder if a fairy could make a midnight raid on her brothers to give them an unexpected surprise when they wake up. Or maybe three new water Nymphs are needed.

Estelle is going to have a time explaining to the other girls why she's wearing rings all attached together, without getting in too deep of a lie. Her dad is correct, she has to practice control without the rings. And yet, if she doesn't come to terms with what's happening to her, and get her emotions under control, no amount of practice will help her control her powers.

Others have feelings too.