Mother Alternate

Ellay Saga Chapter 1: Those Who Are Destined

 

The next day came, as it always seems to do.

 

A girl in her late teens was arrested from her dreams by the sound of an exasperatingly punctual alarm clock, which blared as loudly as possible.  The girl reached over to the meddlesome device and silenced it with a tap of her hand.  Almost automatically, the girl rose from her bed and sat upright.  She still couldn’t believe it was morning again; sleep seemed to come and go much more quickly than consciousness.  As she stood and stretched she yawned, her mind trying to switch from its previous dormant state to a more active and productive one.  The girl twisted her hand and stuck her arm under her gray T-Shirt to scratch out an itch on her back at the shoulder level.  When she began to walk towards the door she tangled her foot with a pair of pants, which were only a part of the huge mass of clothes carelessly strewn about the floor of the darkened room.  After she regained her balance she walked over to the window and groped for a string on the side.  When her hand made contact with the string she gave it a solid yank and the venetian blinds covering the opening contracted, flying upwards and allowing the morning sun to wash in and permeate the area.  Her eyes squinted as her pupils contracted to regulate the overwhelming amount of light, causing her some pain and annoyance.

 

After stumbling out of her room and into the hallway, her bare feet grazed the soft red carpet, tickling her slightly and waking her up just a little more, although far from enough for her to be considered fully awake.  The girl stumbled forward, her hand placed on the smooth, cream-colored wall until it met with a door frame.  Acting by instinct, the girl stopped and faced the door, then used her other hand to grab the polished brass knob and turn it.  When the doorway was fully opened she stepped inside. 

 

Her nerves were given a jolt as her feet touched the cold tile, as she knew and dreaded it would.  Her hands closed and locked the bathroom door as if by themselves, letting the girl remain in her blissful state of half-consciousness for a little longer.  Slowly she slid off her T-Shirt and her matching gray shorts, letting them drop to the ground, not caring to wonder how those articles of clothing miraculously made their way back to her room every day.  For a moment she wondered whether to pick them up this time, but, just like every other morning, she dismissed this idea; she knew her clothes would be right there in her room for her to drop in the bathroom the following morning.

 

Feeling somewhat more awake now, the girl reached into the glass cube in the corner of the bathroom and turned a stainless-steel knob, causing a torrent of lukewarm water to gush out from several orifices at the end of a cone-shaped apparatus attached to a steel pipe a few feet above her.  When the temperature was to her liking, she stepped inside and began the morning ritual of pouring several fragrant substances all over her body.

 

A few minutes later the girl stepped out of the bathroom again.  When she opened the door a great amount of steam poured out of the white-tiled room.  She was awake now, although far from capable of normal activity.  She made her way back to her room, a white towel wrapped around her and a hairbrush in her hand, which she would use to comb her brown, shoulder length hair a few minutes later.  Once in her room she donned her underwear and fished out an acceptable wardrobe combination from the tangled jungle of clothing on the floor.  Today was saturday, so a pair of sweatpants and a T-Shirt would do.  She then comber her hair and tied a small elastic band around the end so as to make a ponytail.  When she was finished she slipped on a pair of white socks and slid her feet into a pair of goofy-looking bunny slippers.

 

She left the room once again, bypassing the bathroom and the other room beside it, opting instead for the stairs on her right.  Her slippers thudded against the carpeted stairwell until she reached the end and her feet met with smooth hardwood.  This was the living room, and it was decorated with two nice sofas and a center table made of mahogany.  Several ornaments littered the table, and a few paintings hung from the red-painted walls.  Beyond the living room there were doors to the game room, the study, the wine cellar, and the office.  This was of no interest to her though, and her feet pivoted to her right, carrying her with them.  She didn’t bother to notice anything in the living room, as it was the same as every other morning of her eighteen years of existence.

 

Fortunately, the bunny slippers she wore on her feet prevented her from feeling the cold as once again she tread on white tile.  This was not a bathroom, however, but rather a kitchen.  Instead of hot steam her nostrils met with the pleasant odor of scrambled eggs and fresh fruit, and she heard a soft sizzling sound instead of running water.  When she bothered to pry her eyes from the floor her gaze met with that of a woman wearing a pink bathrobe and holding a spatula in her left hand.  When she spoke she did so very softly, knowing that the girl wasn’t ready for noise at this time in the morning.

 

Buenos días.” she said, her voice sauntering on a light melodical tone that communicated a sense of gentleness and well being.  The girl nodded and spoke as well, although her voice was far from melodic.  She had to clear her throat a couple of times before being able to respond. “G’morning, mom.” she replied.  The girl ambled over to a chair close to the white kitchen table and plopped down on it, making her head jostle with the force of the not-so-subtle action.  The girl’s mother grabbed a plate and laid it gently before her; it was filled with eggs, some toast, and a slice of fruit.  The smell of breakfast invigorated her and brought her nearly to the point of full awareness.  Her hand shot out to a fork on the side of the table and she began to gobble up the food in front of her.  Occasionally her mother would talk to her or ask small questions, but these assaults on her mind could be answered with a simple yes or no, or perhaps a brisk nod as the girl splattered her toast with grape jelly using a knife.  Eventually her mother brough out a glass full of orange juice, which she gulped down eagerly.  When she was finished she stood up and carried her dishes over to the sink, where she set them gently for fear of breaking them.  She then blew a kiss to her mother as a sign of thanks.

 

The girl had now reached the point of complete activeness.  A slight smile decorated her face and she happily traipsed back up the stairs and back into the bathroom.  The taste of juice and toast was replaced with the taste of menthol as she happily initiated her second morning ritual: brushing her teeth.  The plastic brush she used flexed and strained under the force of the girl’s tight grip, but it survived just like every other morning. 

 

The girl hopped back down the stairs and into the kitchen, where her mother was sipping silently on a cup of coffee, her eyes fixed on a small television set in the cupboard.  Images of the usual things one sees on TV flickered intermitently and battled for control of the screen.  The girl, like every other morning, promptly ignored the flood of News Flashes, Infomercials, and Campaign Slogans, although she did note an interesting story about a runaway boy in the back of her mind.  She reached for a blue backpack behind the table and hoisted it up onto her back.  She then turned towards the door and prepared to leave. 

 

Que te vaya bien, mi vida!” once again the musical ringing of her mother’s voice filled the girl’s ears and made her stop.  She turned and blew another kiss at her mother. “Thanks, mom. I love you too.” she said. “Take care!” The girl’s mother nodded and cocked her head to the side. “Say hello to everyone at work for me.” she sang.  The girl nodded and spun around, waving to her mother before she jumped out of her bunny slippers and into a pair of tennis shoes. “Bye!” mother and daughter called out almost simultaneously to each other as the girl headed to a small entrance hall on the other end of the living room, opened a door and was gone from the house.

 

The girl hit the streets of Ellay and began walking quickly towards the downtown area.  She had been working part-time at the Ellay Tribune for almost two years now, and that was where she was going now.  The streets of Ellay were never crowded at this time; everyone was either asleep or at work by now.  On saturdays the local kids played basketball in a public court nearby, and she could hear their yelling now.  Everything was as usual; a perfectly normal saturday morning, followed by a perfectly normal saturday afternoon at work.  Then it was back home to talk with her friends over the phone, like a teenager normally would on a saturday. 

 

She soon reached the aforementioned basketball court and spotted the children playing.  She knew them all by name, and waved to some of the ones that weren’t playing as she walked by.  Then her eyes wandered to the side and they met with something new: a teenager in ragged clothes, accompannied by a girl wearing equally ragged clothing and a pair of mechanic’s goggles.  With them was a wild-looking boy wearing clothes that seemed hand-made, and a tiny monkey was perched on top of his head.

 

Now this was definitely not normal.

 

The girl felt a sudden urge to stop and observe these newcomers.  Very quickly she stopped in her tracks and backpedalled; she didn’t want to look like she was spying on the unusual threesome.  She walked over to one of the benches on the side and sat down beside a girl wearing a baseball cap to prevent her long hair from cascading over her face.  She remained like that for a moment.

 

The rest of the children eventually noticed the strange group as well, and one of the older ones, the girl knew him as Ricky, stopped the game and jogged over to them.  He was apparently inviting them to play.  The two older ones declined, but encouraged the one with the monkey on his head to give it a shot.  The latter accepted, and the monkey hopped from the child to the girl.  Ricky laughed and handed the child the large, orange sphere.  The child held it clumsily, staring at it in awe, as if he didn’t know what to do with it.  Ricky laughed again and asked if the child had ever played basketball.  The child looked down and redenned slightly.  Ricky then pointed to the hoop and told him the objective was to get the ball in there.  The child opened his mouth and let out an “Oh.” of understanding.

 

The girl rested her elbows on her thighs and watched as the child walked over to the middle of the concrete court, encouraged not only by his comrades but by the other children as well.  Ricky announced that the child was filling in for him and that he would act as referee, then retreated and shouted “Go!” to signal the beginning of the game.  Instantly the court was filled with the sounds of cheering and shouting as the children began jumping around the child, some trying to steal the ball from him, while others, his teammates, tried to get him to toss it over to them.

 

What the girl saw next startled her out of her wits: the child, after looking from the other players to the hoop on the end, released the ball.  However, instead of falling the ball floated in mid-air, as if suspended by magic.  The other children stopped running around and stared at the ball, jaws nearly reaching the floor.  Slowly, deliberately, and very calmly the boy stared at the ball; he was apparently the one controlling this feat of magic.  His hands dropped to his sides and his brow creased, as if in concentration.  The orange basketball floated upwards and over the players, hovering over to the hoop.  When it was directly over it the boy relaxed and his face regained its normal composure.  The ball then began to fall normally and fell through the hoop, making a satifying swish as it fell through the hoop and the net attached to it.  The ball bounced harmlessly on the concrete floor and eventually stopped, rolling a few feet to the side before it stopped completely.  The child looked to Ricky expectantly, asking if he did it right.  Everyone else stared at the child, flabbergasted.  No one made a sound.

 

The tense atmosphere was broken as the other two ran over to the child and scooped him up in their collective arms, muttering cries of panic as they dashed off and around the corner, leaving the players and spectators stupefied.  Some let out cries of wonder, while others began asking themselves how something like that could be done.  The girl, meanwhile, had wordlessly shot back up and in the direction of the fleeing strangers.  Her time working for the Tribune had mustered a nagging sense of curiosity in her, and her desire to investigate this phenomenon was far too great to be ignored.

 

When she rounded the corner she spotted the threesome, slightly out of breath and with panicked looks on their faces.  The girl retreated and peered around the corner, placing her hands on the side of the brick building she was adjacent to.  The child was looking rather confused and somewhat hurt that his fun had been interrupted.  When he asked what he did wrong, the girl bent down and placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to flash a warm smile. “It’s just that not many people have PSI like you do.” she said through heaving breaths. “When they saw you use your telekinesis they got scared.”

 

Telekinesis? PSI? The girl’s curiosity flared and her grip on the building became tighter.  She unconsciously began to hold her breath.  The teenager, who was also apparently the leader of the group, looked to the child with a look that screamed, “Don’t ever do that again!” Those just also happened to be the first words out of his mouth, and when the child asked why, the teenage boy kneeled and looked into his friend’s eyes, his face changing from scolding-mode to parental concern-mode. “It’s just…try not to show your powers in public like that, okay? No one really knows about PSI, so it scares them.” The child looked down at the ground and assented, visibly disappointed with the way things turned out.

 

The girl looked at the trio with a mixed sense of wonder and confusion.  Her mouth hung wide open and she didn’t take her eyes off of them for a second.  However, her silent admiration was interrupted by a slight tugging at her ankle.  When she looked down to see what it was she saw the small monkey from before, who was pulling at her pants and waving cheerily.  It chattered happily and seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she was spying on the unusual group of kids.  Despite herself she let out a gasp and released the building, drawing the attention of the others.  The observer and the observed stood like that for a second, invaded by an awkward lack of words.

 

The girl shifter her eyes to either side and began laughing, somewhat embarrassed. “Uh, heheh…don’t mind me, I’m just…you know…” her gaze shot down to the monkey and she pointed accusingly at it. “Your pet monkey brought me over here.” The teenage boy looked to his companions warily and stepped up to the girl, his face visibly expressing caution. “Who are you?” he asked simply, arms akimbo.  The girl noticed the presence of a dull green tattoo on his right hand.  She tried to keep her cool in front of the boy, who could have been an alien or a ghost or something worse.  She took a deep breath and steadied herself. “I saw what happened back there.” she stated. “I just…want to know what all that ‘PSI’ and ‘telekinesis’ stuff is about.”

 

The boy countered almost instantaneously. “You were eavesdropping.” his tone was flat but accusatory.  The girl shook her head and raised a hand. “No! Really! All I want is to talk to you for a second!” Now the other girl, the one with the goggles, stepped up to her and grabbed the boy’s arm. “Look, I’m real sorry and everything, but we have to go now, you know? We’re busy.” She was obviously trying to get rid of the ‘unwanted company’, it showed in her tone.  The girl once again shook her head. “Look, just give me a minute, okay? I won’t hurt you or turn you in to NASA or anything.” The teenage boy raised an eyebrow. “NASA?” he queried.  The girl shrugged. “You are…human, aren’t you?”

 

The boy was visibly confused by the question, as if not even he had thought of that.  Still, he answered with a curt, “Yes” and his hands curled into fists.  “Listen, just forget what you saw, alright? We don’t—” the boys speech was abruptly interrupted as his stomach growled loudly.  His eyes bulged.  While the other two didn’t react as violently, it was obvious that they were hungry as well.  In this the girl saw an opening.

 

“If you tell me what I want to know…I’ll give you food.” Despite herself the girl sounded like she was talking to a wild animal.  Then again, she didn’t know whether these people really were people, so the tone seemed appropriate.  Even so the others noticed her apparent, subconscious condescendence and refused to let their guard down.  The offer was tempting, though…

 

The teenage boy looked over to his companions, then back to the girl.  Something about the way he looked seemed unusual to the girl…almost familiar.  After a few seconds he nodded. “Fine. Deal.” he said blankly. “We’ll tell you what you want to know, but you have to promise not to tell anybody.”  The girl beamed and placed her right hand over her heart, a little more confident now. “Scout’s honor, I ask only for the satisfaction of my own curiosity.” her tone drifted from that of someone talking to a child to that of someone talking to a superior.  Her heartbeat quickened ever so slightly and she couldn’t help but smile.  As if to close the deal she offered her hand.  The boy, after a second of silent hesitation, took it and shook it firmly.

 

“Great then.” The girl grabbed the boy’s arm and began to lead him away. “Let’s go.”