Magic Children

Chapter 7 Wabash, Indiana - Vali

"That's it---you have to know something," I say, walking back in the ---still deserted diner. So these places really do just survive on the resounding misery that rises from the parched soil. I thought as much.

"Why are you still here?" she asks, quietly, as she cleans a counter that's never been dirty. The lovely, charming, Aurora Frigg. She's the sort of person who's never been afraid of anything, not until the world crashed in around them.

"There's no way he didn't contact you. If he's alive, then he found you," I say.

"He didn't," she says, flatly. "But I don't think he's dead."

"Why?"

"I don't think mere men can kill him."

Oh good. She's crazy now. Too much time out here in the dust and the corn and the nothing and the everything.

"I'm not getting you the kid," there's no way I can. I can't find her kid I don't even know how I'd get those records if they even exist. They usually don't. Once the mutants are in the system all records are destroyed and they're coded under a number, never their given name. Nothing to tie the child to Aurora Frigg. Or to Angel. "I can't. But I am gonna find Angel. And you're gonna help me whether you like it or not."

"I don't know what you expect to do----put an advertisement in every paper in the country with my picture? Aurora is here come and get her?" she says, mockingly, like it's a bad plan when it's really not.

"I'm going to do something," maybe it wouldn't work. I really expected him to be with her to be honest.

"I've made it no secret where I am, if he could, or he wanted to, he'd have come to me," she says.

"You really think that he'd abandon you?" I ask, frowning.

"What would you know of his love?"

"He didn't have access to you one night and he burned an entire town down murdering hundreds of people that's a pretty good indication of his devotion, sister," I point out.

"What makes you think he did that for me?" she's upset she doesn't want it to be about her. "He was locked up like an animal. Something else must have set him off."

"Does that help you sleep at night?"

"I'm not responsible for what he did----even if it was to get to me, which is stupid. I could have been killed as well---then it's not my fault."

"Isn't it?"

"I did nothing wrong. I'm sick of you. You weren't there. You don't know what it was like— they kept those boys caged up like animals. Yes I slept with Angel—yes I loved him. But I loved those other boys as well. Sam, Arthur. They were my friends too. And he killed them," her voice cracks, "He killed them too. He wouldn't have done that over me. Why would he? They were his friends. They were doing horrible things to him there, torturing him. It must have been an accident. They angered him and he lost control."

"Maybe you want to think highly of him, because you fucked him, and had his kid," I say, flatly, "Maybe he's a murderer who needs to be stopped before more innocent people die."

"Maybe you should at least consider Angel's side. I loved those all three of those boys---they did nothing wrong and temper or no they were his friends. You think I don't see their faces at night? Have you read their files? Arthur was fourteen years old; he was baby when he burned up---he got scared and couldn't protect himself I can't stand to think of him burning up," there are real tears in her eyes.

"It's a shame tears can't bring people back to life. Really is. We might have fewer wars. No wait, probably not. Cause people would just cry everyone back to life again. And everything would be fine. Except it wouldn't."

"What is your problem? Did you just come here to harass me? I've told you I don't know where Angel is. And I've got news for you. Killing Angel isn't going to bring those people back either," she says.

"No. but thing is it's gonna make me feel better. Just like making you think about it is," I say, drumming my fingers on the bar. Another patron walks in, sees us talking, and leaves. That feels typical.

"You don't think I haven't had heartache? I was sent away to have my baby out of wedlock. I gave birth surrounded by strangers—,"

"Yes, because you chose to fuck the mutant psychopath who broke out of the local containment unit. I'm sorry for not feeling bad for your suffering for your own bad choices---similarly I don't feel bad that you lost your kid, because if you wanted to keep it you shouldn't have bred with the mutant," I did expect that to enrage her. I did not expect her to stab a fork through my hand. Or try to. She does break the skin before I stop her, my knuckles white as I hold her wrist up.

"You cool?" I ask, slamming her arm down hard enough to break the grip then withdrawing both my hands.

"Please just go," she whispers, tears running down her face. "I've suffered enough."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"You weren't there those nights. If you had been---if you'd seen his face---he's not a monster."

"I'll be the judge of that."