Chapter #21 “Logan’s Run, pt. 2”
Southampton, NY
Saturday, July 31st, 2004
Sometime in the early morning before light…
A warm shower hadn’t helped.
The quiet solitude of his home was now more a reminder of just how thoroughly alone he truly was.
Crushing the tall empty beer can in his hand, Logan let a powerful belch erupt from his throat that stung for barely a second. It was his last beer, and the fact that his weak buzz was quickly losing the battle against his mutated metabolism and healing factor only angered him more.
With more force than was necessary, he reared back and sent the crushed metal speedball into the pile several feet before him. Aluminum scattered everywhere, but by now it made little difference, only complimenting the rest of the destruction in the house.
For the past several hours, Logan had laid waste to his Southampton home, destroying any and everything he could. The inside of the house literally looked as though a hurricane had been born within it. Almost nothing was spared. With a clear, concentrated effort, he sought out and destroyed every piece of his lovely home that Ororo had touched.
With a dry, cryptic laugh, he thought about what he’d done, realizing he didn’t even have a bed to sleep in. The master bath was going to need remodeling as well, after repeated abuse from adamantium.
Did he feel any better?
‘Not a goddamn bit.’
Slowly he stood from the recliner, stepping through the mess around him on the floor and heading for the kitchen”or rather what was left of it. He knew there wasn’t anymore beer, but maybe some harder liquor had escaped his search earlier.
Anything to take this pain away.
After several minutes yielded only a half a bottle of scotch that tasted more like piss, Logan quickly guzzled it, then did his best Nolan Ryan impression as it sailed across the room, exploding against the far wall where the range had been gutted.
‘I dunno why yer so fuckin’ surprised, ass-wipe. You knew she was gonna find out…sooner or later. She had to.’
Growling, he cursed himself, fighting those self-destructive thoughts. His inner war with his behavior was precisely what had him emptying his entire alcohol stock into his body in a matter of a couple hours. Logan was desperate to get so stinking drunk that the rational part of his mind would either shut down or just plain shut up.
‘Keep drinkin’. All the dirty scotch in the world won’t make ya forget that look she gave ya.’
With an exasperated yell, he whirled around, sending his balled fist into the stainless steel refrigerator that had been the last appliance to survive his rampage. Quietly Logan just looked at the deep dent left in the front of the right side door. His delicate ears picked up something dropping and leaking inside, but he really couldn’t have cared less at that point.
After a few seconds, he just grumbled, shaking his head as he looked away. Unfortunately, the first thing he saw was the Little Mermaid magnet at his feet. Well, the green-tinted fins were there.
With a sick feeling, Logan dropped to his knees, sifting through the trash and debris on the floor, trying to find the other pieces of the magnet. Amahra’s favorite.
“Fuckin’ asshole…idiot muthafucker…” He mumbled, unable to find the other pieces of the now broken trinket.
He was about to give up, spootting his rumpled shirt on the floor; the one he’d worn to the reunion earlier. It was still plenty wet from the rain, and was now stained with several things that had joined it on the floor. The ruined shirt wasn’t what had gotten Logan’s attention, however. Slowly, he reached in the folds for the corner of the thick paper that peeked out.
He didn’t notice his fingers tremble as they brought the glossy paper up to his face. Logan’s eyes hardened, but inside his chest, something tightened…It hurt like hell.
Smiling back at him was Ororo’s beautiful face, close to his as she hugged him. He’d forgotten about the picture taken at the reunion. Now as he re-examined it, he shook his head, laughing bitterly at the irony of taking their first picture together on the night she dumped him.
Closing his eyes for several seconds, Logan’s head dropped, and there was a sick satisfaction he felt at the sound of the paper crumpling in his hand.
As he stood, heading for the back door, it fell from his fingers, somewhere on the floor along with the rest of the mess.
---
Outside, he breathed deeply, surprised how clear the air was and how cool the late night breeze was. As his feet dug into the white sand of the beach, Logan looked out over the dark water as it crashed against the surf lazily. He stood rooted in place, as his mind went back to a time when he had lain back against the steps of his house with Ororo and watched the waves.
They hadn’t talked at all”just watched the magnificent scene before them”and he knew then that if he were ever able to love again, it would be this woman.
---
Her brilliant white hair was wrapped tightly in a bun and then covered snugly with a baseball cap she’d ‘borrowed’ from her brother Henry. The lip of the Yankees’ cap shielded much of her face, and she kept her head down as she lifted the strap of the carry-all over her shoulder.
Despite how late it was, there was a fair amount of passengers on the ferry, and she used ‘people watching’ as an excuse to keep her mind off of her troubles. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before even that held no comfort.
Her eyes caught sight of a young couple near the railing of the observation deck of the ferry, standing very close to each other, totally immersed in one another as they watched others board, waiting for the vessel to start it’s journey back to the mainland.
Ororo’s eyes softened a little, seeing the youth’s arm protectively wrap around his beloved, the female leaning into his embrace, their heads touching as they were lost in the intimacy of their conversation.
She tried to ignore them, to stop staring at them, but it was no use; at this point, a set of kitchen knives would remind her of Logan. Taking a seat as far away from everyone else as she could get, Ororo hugged herself closer, dipping her chin in the solitude and warmth of the large coat (she’d also ‘borrowed’) that hid her body. Squeezing the collar around her cheeks, she took a deep, but ragged breath, and tried not to cry.
In times of change
My bags are packed, guess I'm leaving
the womb
Into the rain
We never found
A place to hide
Some peace of mind
God knows we tried”
Looking up toward the midnight sky, Logan inhaled deeply, watching the twinkling stars that reminded him of the silver shine of her soft hair. In the midst of all that silver, there was one bright blue star, seemingly the most luminous of them all; it was the exact color of her eyes when she looked at him while they made love in his bed.
Ooh...nothing better, babe
Across the bay--Sarasota Way
We held together
We never found
A place to hide
Some peace of mind
God knows we tried, yeah…
Into the rain:
The summer rain”
She closed her eyes tightly at the image in her mind of his hands on her body, but it did no good, because in some insane, unfair way Ororo could still feel Logan all around her; his nose in her hair, those sharp teeth nipping at her neck, his warm breath against her lips and the powerful thrust of their joined hips…
A little jolt ran thru her body just at the thought, and she angrily shook such memories away, but it didn’t matter. The deep-timbered chuckle that reminded her of a grizzly echoed in her skull. She could still see with vivid clarity the first time she’d made him laugh.
Where things began
Honey days and nights without sleep
Lost in the sand
We never found
A place to hide
Some peace of mind
God knows we tried, yeah”
Closing his eyes, Logan let his head fall back as a strong gust of wind blew over him. He could remember the last time he felt such pain, and it only made everything worse. There was a very real, literal hurt in his chest, and he shook his head with finality, realizing”not for the first time in his life”that although it was the last thing Logan wanted, the Wolverine always knew he was ultimately destined to walk this Life alone.
His dulled grey eyes softened, and a look of resignation clouded his face. Slowly he turned, and headed back toward the house.
A place to hide
Some peace of mind
God knows we tried, yeah
So we walk down to Memorial Beach”
---
A Few Days Later, the Xaviers’ beachside estate was much quieter, as most of the guests had said their goodbyes and headed for the airports back to their destinations. Only Henry, Beth, Marie & Remy remained, aside from Erik & Charles. Right then, the quartet sat solemnly at the large kitchen table, nursing their meals as Mrs. Duvahl and the staff silently did their jobs in the background.
In the aftermath of the reunion, word had spread like wildfire about what had happened. Of course, 2nd hand information turned to 3rd & 4th, and before the night was over, Charles found himself straightening out more misconceptions and out-right wrong information than anything else.
It was finally Beth that ended the round table of Twenty Questions, reminding everyone that although they were concerned about their sister and friend, this news was still very much a part of Ororo’s private life, and as such should remain so.
Charles greatly appreciated his daughter’s influence, but inwardly realized some of his family felt much the same as Ororo did about his decision to keep her past from her. He couldn’t blame them, but it still hurt nonetheless.
“Anybody heard from ‘Ro yet?”
Her siblings looked up at Marie, who was the first to break the silence among them since they’d quietly joined each other at the table. Several looks were exchanged before anyone said anything.
“Non…”
“No, luv.”
“Regretfully, I have the same news.”
“Yeah,” Marie swallowed hard, her eyes drifting back down to her bowl of cereal, “Me neither.”
“I’m sure she’s fine.” Beth tried to sound positive.
“Ah’m worried ‘bout ‘er, ‘Lisabeth.” Marie bit her lip to hold back a tear, thinking about what her older sister was going thru’.
Remy reached over quietly, taking Marie’s hand. “All o’ us are, cher.” He kept their gazes steady, letting her know he wasn’t afraid to let her in his head, to see exactly what he was feeling.
A little startled, Marie blinked several times, then lowered her eyes.
“I believe Erik tried her brownstone earlier this morning.” Henry offered, adjusting his glasses carefully. “There was no answer.”
“Same as a few days back,” Marie complained, concern etched over her features, “Dad tried her there after Ah saw her room’d been cleaned out upstairs.”
“Why Charles not simply look f’her…up here?” Remy pointed to his own forehead.
Beth’s gaze stayed rooted to her plate as she pushed food around on it, he appetite never really there in the first place. “Considering everything’s that’s happened, Rem, I doubt our father feels that’s a good idea. I tend te agree with him.”
Her siblings and friend quietly acknowledged the reference to Charles’ role in this whole mess by simply nodding or murmuring. After several quiet moments, Hank looked at each one of them, his eternal optimism struggling to show through.
“Have a little faith, everyone. I’m positive once Ororo has had a little time to digest everything, we will hear from her.”
---
Upstairs in the closed-off master bedroom…
Erik stood at the window adjacent to the French patio doors, his back hunched over, head down and fingers gripping the windowsill tightly. With a heavy sigh he turned his head just a little to his left; not even enough to fully look Charles in the eye.
“Trust me Charles, I understand how you feel”“
“I highly doubt that.” The other man interrupted.
“”but the fact remains, this trip to Genosha cannot wait. You’ll have to make a decision here.”
Charles’ weary eyes turned to his friend, but Erik had already gone back to looking out of the window and missed the look of pain and regret there…as if he had to see it to know it was there, anyway…
“You’re telling me I have to choose between my daughter and this peace summit?”
“I’m not telling you anything Charles.” Erik stated quietly.
Silence reigned between them for several tense moments, as Erik allowed his close friend the time he obviously needed to come to grips with a decision that had already been made. It was ironic, in a way; Charles had always prided himself on putting Ororo first, but it seemed when she really needed him most, he would have to sacrifice her for a ‘greater good’. With a sigh of resignation, he turned his head toward Erik, blue eyes dulled just a little more at the thought. He only hoped she could find it in her heart to forgive him.
*When do we leave?*
---
August 9th, 2004
Undisclosed Military Location…
9:37 A.M.
Dr. Gonzalez carefully looked down at her wrist watch again, noted the time and kept going over the thick file folder of notes before her.
Her large office was illuminated primarily from the natural light outside; one of the few spaces there at the base that was exposed to daylight. She remembered fighting pretty hard to get that, too. Sipping roasted hazelnut coffee, she looked over at her watch again, and sighed.
Just then, the door to her office swung open with a forceful gust of wind, and closed just as quickly. She looked up over the file folder & her small spectacles, her face as calm as though the man had never entered. “You are late, Colonel.”
“Whatever. I’m here, ain’t I?”
She looked up again from her reading, and sat up straighter as she evaluated the officer before her. His fatigues were clean and orderly as he stood erect before her, hands tightly clasped behind his back, legs braced apart. If it weren’t for the look behind his eyes, she may have believed this picture of ‘perfect’ health. But Maria knew Logan better than that.
“Only 90 minutes late. Have a seat, Colonel Howlett.” She closed the file she’d been reading, standing up & gesturing to his choice among the two soft leather chairs or the reclining seat.
Unsurprisingly, he only briefly glanced at his choices before replying, “I’ll stand.”
“Logan. Sit.” Her tone wasn’t in anger, rather exasperated humor, and she cocked her head to one side, watching him. There was something different about him today; she hadn’t seen him in over a month, but the last time he’d ‘checked in’ with her, he seemed almost calm”a far cry from his disposition today.
Fists clutching over and again, Logan growled low in his throat before picking the nearest leather chair, although his shoulders never touched the back of it as he raised his sharp grey eyes to the Doctor.
“How have you been?” She stood before him, leaning against the wide oak wood desk casually.
That question seemed to annoy him, and he looked up at her with an icy stare. His eyes seemed to say something she couldn’t understand, and before his lips opened his mind censored it. “Just ready to get back t’work, Doc. We gonna make that happen?”
She wasn’t flustered at all by his cryptic tone, and immediately responded, “Well, that actually depends on you.”
“Oh?” his brow went up and was met by his sarcastic air. “And here, I thought you were doin’ all the work.”
The Dr. only smiled, allowing his acerbic wit to slide, as she leaned back, dragging the file she’d been reading closer toward them on the desk. “Only half. But speaking of which: you’ve got this one last session today, so we’d better get to it.”
Suddenly, his posture takes a cockier attitude, and he leans to the side of the chair, resting against the arm as he keeps his eye on her. “Yeah. I got training all afternoon, if ya don’t mind.”
“Oh, I understand…” her tone was almost jovial before she paused, then cut her eyes to him quickly before asking calmly, “…so”have you seen Amahra lately?”
Just as the Dr. expected, Logan’s expression faltered”if ever so briefly”and his fingers gripped the edge of the armrest in a vice grip before slowly letting go. “Why d’you ask?”
“Well,” Maria adjusted her specs before flipping the thick file of papers open and sifting thru’ them as she spoke, “the anniversary of her passing is this week. Four days away, if I’m not mistaken.”
“So?”
“How are you feeling about that?”
“Beggin’ yer pardon Doc, but how the hell would you feel?” Logan couldn’t help it, his darkened grey eyes fixed on her menacingly.
The good doctor was beginning to feel how close she was to getting hurt, but her quest to help this man (which had almost reached its own anniversary) pushed her forward. “Logan, I’m sorry we have to speak of this”“
“Yeah, I bet.”
She stopped then, peering at him. Even an idiot could tell he was sitting there behind several emotional ‘walls’. At least she had gotten him to the point where she could mention the girl’s name without him flying into a rage. And it had only taken 11 months. But the doctor was also getting some nagging feeling that there was something else eating at the Colonel right then. “Logan?”
He only looked up at her, brow up as if waiting for her next words.
“Is there something else bothering you? Do you want to discuss it?”
His short, quiet scoff told her that no amount of talk was going to solve that particular issue, and if he was honest with himself”let alone the doctor”Logan would have admitted that he preferred it that way. They both knew he was only there because of the strict conditions set by Gen. Ackens and the Dept. For almost a year they’d done this same dance of Maria asking questions she knew she couldn’t get answers to, while Logan provided answers to questions she’d never know to ask.
This was no different.
“Got a lot on my plate, Doc; you know that.”
She nodded, but sensed”unlike with other patients”Logan did not want her to dig any deeper. “Well, I cannot stress enough, that if you have been to see your daughter’s grave, that is completely normal. Healthy, even, in the grieving process.”
‘”Process”’ he scoffed inwardly, remaining silent, ‘As if there’s ever gonna be an End to this.’ “Yeah.”
“Good. I’m glad you agree. Now, as for my question earlier”“
Knock-knock! “Excuse me?”
The two looked up as General Jason Ackens poked his head inside the door, glancing at Logan before fixing the Doctor with a look.
Gonzalez’s surprise was evident, and she stood behind the desk, adjusting her specs as though she weren’t sure she was seeing correctly. “General..! I’m surprised to see you.”
“Yeah, sorry f’bustin’ in like this, Doctor, but I thought you’d be done with ‘im by now.” Ackens came in, closing the door and standing almost against it. “Is there a problem?”
Logan looked at the doctor quickly, as if he were waiting for the same answer. Maria exchanged looks between the two men before fixing Ackens with a stern stare. She had a feeling his visit wasn’t as ‘accidental’ as he’d like her to believe. “General, this is highly irregular. I would appreciate it if you could leave Colonel Howlett and me alone for the duration of our session, and wait for my full report”as regulations stipulate.”
Ackens would later pat himself on the back for not biting the bitch’s head off at her tone with him; he could tell she wasn’t buying his ‘accidental’ intrusion, but he couldn’t help the subterfuge. He just needed her to sign off on Logan’s therapy so he could get the man back on the training field. They needed him more now than ever…
“I know about regulations, sweetheart”are ya trying to imply somethin’?” Jase asked quietly, inwardly smiling when she recoiled at the familiar way he’d addressed her.
Logan’s eyes went back and forth between these two as they ‘politely’ sparred; he could tell there was no love lost here, and wondered briefly why Ackens had chosen her as his doctor if he didn’t think she could be ‘counted on’ to grease some wheels in his speedy recovery.
“Of course not, General.” Maria bit back her tongue, speaking through clenched teeth. “I am merely reminding you”“
“Hold on.” He held up his hand and then turned to Howlett. “Logan, ya wanna take a break fer a minute?”
He needn’t ask twice, and the Colonel was out the door, nodding curtly to them both; he made a point to remind himself to thank the General later; his timing had been impeccable.
As Ackens closed the door behind Logan’s retreating body, he turned back to Maria, an almost playful twinkle in his eyes. “We’ve gotta talk.”
---
Cairo Int’l Airport
A Little Later that afternoon…
To say that the airport was ‘busy’ would have been a very gross understatement.
“Excuse me.” She nodded to the man as he hurriedly broke through the line of people waiting at the curb where cars & taxis streamed in to pick up departed passengers, arguing with someone on his cell. She couldn’t imagine where he was going in such a rush, but didn’t have the energy to get in a tizzy about it.
Absently, her fingers clutched at the nylon strap of her carry-on bag, picking at an errant piece of material; anything to get her mind off of what she was doing. One would think that the noise of the crowded airport would have been able to drown out her mind’s worried chatter, but to no avail. She realized the nervousness she was feeling wasn’t going away, and so she wouldn’t fight it. Instead, she thought back to the endless line at check-in, as the airport employee went through the seemingly monotonous job of checking passports. The short conversation was still playing in Ororo’s mind:
[Next in line?]*
[Good afternoon.]
[Passport? Thank you.]
“…”
[American?...]
“Yes ma’am.”
“How long do you stay?”
“Just a couple days.”
“Yes, okay. And, for business or for pleasure?”
“….” ‘How do I answer that??’ “Er, business.” ‘Well, it certainly isn’t pleasure.’
“Good then. (stamp) Enjoy your visit.”
“Thank you.”
Business or Pleasure. With a sad grin, she realized that question held so much weight to it, the casual way in which it was asked had almost been funny. Almost.
Sighing heavily, she looked up, squinting in the bright sunlight despite the dark sunglasses she wore now, and adjusted the wide-brimmed hat that covered her bun-wrapped hair. Just as she did so, a very large, jet-black limousine pulled up to the curb, stopping just past her. She hadn’t paid it any mind, waiting for an available taxi and hoping the driver knew as much English at least as the airport employees had. Her Arabic was rusty, as she wasn’t too comfortable with the language anyway.
Just as she ‘d thought the next cab pulling up may be hers, one of the doors on the nearby limo opened suddenly, and two women in suits got out, their eyes covered by black glasses, feet booted, and neither wearing smiles.
“Ms. Xavier?”
She looked up in surprise at the name, but quickly responded, “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person. My name i”“
“Munroe.”
Ororo looked past them to see a tall man around her age, maybe a couple years younger, standing at the limo, leaning against the open door, one foot still inside the cab of the expensive auto. He was dressed properly in a dark blue suit, matching kofia and a silk sash crossing his wide chest. “Excuse me…do I know you?”
Before he could answer, one of the women turned back to him, whispering something stern in Swahili that was too low for Ororo to hear over the noise outside. The other female kept an eye on her, but gestured toward the car. “Please, come with us…your majesty.”
Her blue eyes couldn’t have gotten wider behind those shades, and Ororo’s mouth opened without any sound as she looked from the woman to the strikingly handsome man who grinned at her before extending his black-gloved hand. By merest chance, her gaze caught the back of the limo where two small flags waved in the dry, warm wind. They were striped blue and gold just like the man’s sash.
The colors of the Wakandan Royal House.
It seems her ‘ride’ had arrived.
Nodding silently, Ororo stepped past the woman, who did a quick glance around before picking up Ororo’s other case & taking up her flank, and came up to the man. She didn’t take his hand, but looked up into his amber eyes squarely. There was something familiar about him, but also discomforting. He watched her closely, the sides of his lips quirking as though he were about to smile, but just not quite there yet.
After a moment more, Ororo ducked her head, and slid into the spacious limo’s cab. The man followed, and his personal guard secured the suitcase in the trunk before joining them and soundly closing the door, the limo pulling away from the curb quickly in a rise of dust.
TBC…
*[ ] (Translated from Arabic)
