MUTIES 2

“...A nickname; a mutant needs a nickname!”

If Jenny hadn’t loved John Jenx, she’d have never listened to him; nor his suggestion of “Raye,” just because her ability revolved around energy. However, she had listened and she felt stuck with it.

She had gotten home at about Midnight after their late-night mission in the middle of curfew protocols (evidently, the “dangerous” mutagen “pandemic” had a bedtime).

As she jumped out of Jenx's car as quietly as possible, she quickly dumped the Spray Cans out of her father’s tool bag. She then reached to one of the security lights that her mother kept on to ward off thieves in normal time and, now, the “pandemic” as well. Nevertheless, the security lights kept her mother peacefully quiet; and were a godsend for a mutie who required an energy source.

She tapped a security light and it seemed to fizzle. Satisfied, she then passed right through the door to the house as a blur of light before that bit of energy wore off. She left her father’s tool bag precisely where he kept it, then she made her way upstairs. She checked on her little sister, Emily, for the night as per her normal routine when her parents didn’t. She then turned in for the night. Jenny Wyler was a blonde, pretty seventeen year old girl dating an African American athlete who happened to be a college freshman. She already had her parents’ disapproval. They didn’t have to know that she had been out passed the government mandated curfew; among other, more personal aspects about her life…

Bella Martinez had been safely and discreetly dropped off at about 12:15 a block away from the migrant camp where her family stayed. She had been lucky to stay invisible and silent as she passed the law enforcement officers who, these days, safeguarded the migrant camp rather than hassling them over papers. Nonetheless, none of the camp’s residents could be caught outside of its borders after hours without paperwork explaining why. “Invisibelle” could move swiftly and quietly by years of practice; through concentration, she could cause herself and even those around her to “disappear.” What even she couldn’t do was produce the proper papers identifying herself as human from out of nowhere.

The 19-year-old girl made it around the guards and passed other families trying to slumber and keep warm by fire light. These were her and her family’s neighbors now; they were the more receptive community of a fellow migrant than the outside world would be. Nonetheless, they were not trained to readily accept a “mutie,” as the upper-class, white youths had coined the phrase.

Bella reached her family’s encampment and slowly grew visible once more as she tiptoed around her four slumbering siblings, all huddled up by her mother’s sleeping bag. Her father sat upright in his own sleeping bag and his eyes burned as venomously as a warm campfire. Petro Martinez’s eldest daughter could see passed the stern fire in her father’s eyes and had always been able to see his pain.

“Papa?” she whispered in concern as she knelt by him and touched him on a shoulder.

“*You were out beyond the appropriated curfew time!*” Petro reprimanded her in the family’s native tongue. “*Do you even know how you worried us, naughty girl?*”

The father’s harsh words accidently came at a sharp speaking decibel late at night. The slumbering family began to stir at the father’s starkness. Neighbors could be heard rustling in their own bags as the commotion shattered the peaceful night. Bella almost sensed at least one of the guards coming into the camp to investigate a ruckus. She pleadingly motioned for her father’s silence and poured him some of his medication to ease his nerves and frustrations. She then dutifully held the cup out to the Martinez patriarch.

“*I meant to worry no one, papa.*” Bella insisted in the family’s native Spanish because she knew that the Spanish language soothed her father. “*I was…taking a little walk among the encampment. I shall apologize to mother for worrying her in the morning. Drink your medicine, papa; you will feel better.*”

Petro took his daughter’s advice and took a sip of medicine. She could almost feel his nerves calming.

“*Thank you; you are a good daughter.*” he murmured, finally laying back in his bag. “*We only worry for you. Besides the police always around our camp, there are possible mutants out there on those streets after dark!*”

Petro spat “mutants” as though it were an epithet. He shared more in common with the European, Anglo Saxon man than he thought. The shiver passing through Bella Martinez had little to do with a late October night in New York.

“*I love you, papa.*” she whispered as she laid down and waited until she saw the silhouette of the Martinez patriarch doing the same. With that, she rolled over to face the night sky.

“…If only I hadn’t shamed you all.” Invisibelle whispered into the night in plain English…

Brittney Smie, rich, wealthy socialite, had purported to be a changed woman from the day that she met Philip Jenx. Since Jenx was her first mixed relationship, let alone her first mixed marriage, he had chosen to believe her. Besides, she brought a lot of wealth into an underprivileged neighborhood…

Dylan Jenx (Smie) had transferred into the front seat of his stepbrother’s automobile since he had dropped off the girls. From there, the deformed, wild-haired teenager had found a bag of chips in the glove compartment and helped himself to them. He held the closed bag of chips and, through his palm, the obnoxious crunching sound could be heard. John did all that he could to concentrate on driving; he had even switched the radio to pulse-pounding hiphop to drown out the insufferable noise. Nonetheless, he still had to keep the radio low. The car was out after the government-mandated curfew, John Jenx was a young black man, and Dylan Jenx was barely even recognizable as human anymore. There were times when John almost chuckled about that. Dylan Smie, “son of the rich,” had been hit the hardest by a mutation that he could, obviously, no longer hide.

Dylan’s new appearance had made his fall from humanity obvious. The newly-formed Jenx family was walking on eggshells as Brittney constantly shuttled her little Dylan off to any doctor who would reasonably see a suspected mutant to treat them; until they saw the spawn of the rich face-to-face. John knew what it was like to be ostracized by the community and almost took pity on his stepbrother. Maybe that was why, for as foolish as it was to be seen with him, he kept inviting Dylan along on these trips.

Somehow, the car had not only left the driveway unnoticed two hours before, it miraculously returned now without raising too much suspicion; and, this time, “Invisibelle” wasn’t there to render them unseen. Success!

John cut the car’s engine and got out of the driver’s seat before helping Dylan out of his. There was only one other important matter to discuss and the taller, stronger coed hooked the teenager by a skeletal elbow.

“Smie-gul.” He muttered as one of the house’s security lights came on to announce the boys’ late-night arrival. Oops…! Nevertheless, John sensed that the rude pet name had Dylan’s attention and kept going, albeit that the pair hid themselves in the shadows of the stairwell.

“…Not a word about this to your dear old mom; or my pop, for that matter.” John warned.

As the warning words came out, he tensed his arms to activate his superior strength and finish making his point. Dylan took in the show of superior strength and he let out a grating cackle.

“…I like the pet name, though you mean it as an insult!” Dylan declared at the only decibel that he had.

The boys had an understanding and John could be relieved. Besides, he knew his brother by now; providing that he had said not to, Dylan would oblige him.

“Get up to bed; it’s too late to be caught out here, or out of bed in there.” John added with a yawn.

Dylan bobbed his head in agreement and took the stairs by all fours. John merely shook his head and suppressed a smile as he fished out his housekeys. Most blended families either got a stepsibling or a pet; the Jenx family practically had both in one person!