Chapter Twelve

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Sunday, April 11, 2010

Oran walked into the kitchen, hoping to get there before Tetyana. She had been distressed when they got home from the hospital the evening before. It seems that Eric had come home while they were out, bringing his "friend" Nikolai with him. The housekeeper said they simply packed a few things for Eric then went back out. But Oran had smelled both of them on her. He was worried they had molested her in some way. But she refused to say anything more.

Carl had stayed the night. He had hinted to Oran that he was going to come out to Kirstin, as Mariela already knew about his other identity. "It should make it easier for me to get you away for training."

As Oran looked out over Central Park through the kitchen windows the morning sun climbed into the eastern sky. The view was partially obscured by the buildings on the other side of the park, but was still worth seeing. He had coffee ready for his mother and grandfather, and tea for himself and Tetyana. He knew Kirstin cared for neither, though she often bought the sweetest, most chocolaty caffeine confection the school coffee shop sold, just to fit in with her friends. He had ordered fresh bagels and fixings delivered and set them out on a serving platter on the breakfast bar. He was not hungry, though he had eaten nothing the day before, and wanted to see how long he could comfortably go without food.

He was seeing how long he could hold a one armed handstand on the balcony when Carl came out to join him. "If you can manage to drink your coffee that way, I'll give you a dollar."

"It's tea," Oran said, flipping back to his feet. "And no bet." He gave the old man a one-armed hug. "How are you this fine morning?"

"Just surviving, which I must say beats the alternative. You ready for registration today?"

"I have to be. They won't let me into school tomorrow without it."

"Would that be so terrible?' Carl's grin was wicked.

"I honestly don't know. Mom would be unhappy and Kirstin would have to face her harassers alone, so it's best if I just get this over with."

"Well, your costume should be ready before your appointment downtown. We can pick it up on the way, if you'd like. Probably better to register in costume or they'll have too many questions left blank. And that would defeat the purpose of this, eh? As our Canadian friends would say."

"Do you have any Canadian friends?" Oran asked.

"Of course. Not sure their still alive, but I worked several cross-border cases with the Northern Lights back in the 1960's." Carl rambled into an anecdote that lasted until Mariela joined them.

They both stood up and offered her kisses. She sat and wrapped herself around her steaming mug. "I was just telling Oran about the case with Kodiak and Fleur di Lis back in '67."

"That was before I was born, Dad." She looked at Oran. "And while I know you need to train him, that doesn't mean I want you to fill his head with silly ideas of the glorious past and how cool heroing is. Friday night was enough of that, if you ask me."

"He's not trying to convince me or anything, Mom. It's just ... I like to hear about his glory days. It sort of makes me feel like I'm not alone, you know. Less of a freak."

"There's nothing freakish about super powers," she snapped. "But neither is there anything inherent good or special about them either. Once you're trained, you don't ever have to use them if you don't want to. They don't have to shape your life."

Oran remembered Carl saying Mariela was a partial super with minor energy absorption powers. She had obviously chosen not to acknowledge them, much less use them actively. He had no desire to let her know he was aware of her abilities.

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