[Reviews - 38]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story |
Printer Chapter or Story |
ePub eBook Chapter or Story |

Has been viewed 2179 times

- Text Size +




The children bullying Amiko whizzed around at the characteristic bubble-gum pop and high-pitched voice.

“Jub…..Jubilee,” all of them paled in their faces. “This is bad…bad….bad…” one of them started muttering under his breath.
“So which one of you losers is the ring leader?” Jubilation *Jubilee* Lee, threatened, her usually friendly features a stark contrast to the deep scowl gracing it now. A mere wisp of a girl, she had a well-earned reputation of being a tough cookie. Joining Xavier’s four years back, she had since then proven herself to be an intelligent, studious student, although a bit lacking in the right kind of impetus department. She was just as likely to get into some sort of trouble, as she was to complete next week’s assignment. “Which one is the ring leader?” she repeated in a lower tone, her eyes narrowing.

“He-he is…..” couple of boys pushed a third one to the front. He was trying and get to the back. He knew about Jubilee and was familiar with what happened when you crossed her….and by the swift reactions of his so called friends, so were they.

“You’re *skunk* McGee’s brother, aren’t you?” A dark menacing smirk formed on the older girl’s face, one that made the bullies lie down in a fetal position and call for their mamas.

The boy nodded his head, remembering what had happened to his elder brother. “Y…Yes”

“So do you want to get the same treatment I gave him? Complete with the shaved strip in the middle of your head and white paint on it – both of you brothers will look the same, stinkin’ skunks. Just like family.”
“N-No….” the youngster was ready to pee his pants, all his earlier bravado escaping to parts unknown. His brother used to a bully, a major one too…that is until he crossed a newly admitted Jubilee. What happened after that, what she did to him, made him the laughing stock of the school. Jubilee caught hold in a chokehold, and using her father’s razor, shaved three slim, strips of hair off his head and painted them over with while paint. His brother had to get all of his hair shaved and had never teased Jubilee or any other girl.

----

“Please….don’t do that to me” he pleaded.

“Hmph.” It wasn’t as if Jubilee wanted to hurt the bugger, just put the fear of God or better yet, the fear of Jubilee in them. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t do it,” she mused, gesturing Amiko to come towards her.

“Give me one reason, why I shouldn’t do it to all of you….” she stared at all the conspirators. “….after what you did to my SISTER.”
“Sister!” The lone girl in the group squeaked, her eyes flitting to Amiko. “She-She’s….your sister. We didn’t know.” She was practically begging for mercy. So much for her REP among the girls.
“Well NOW you do,” Jubilee stressed, pointing a menacing finger at each one of them. “All of you.”

“Now SCRAM.”

“Ye…Yes” they started to shuffle away, but stopped at Jubilee’s call.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
They looked up at her, ‘forgetting’…..what were….

“Oh yes,” one of them still had some thought process going. “Sorry Amiko,” he whispered lowering his head, the rest of them mirroring his apology.
“And…”
“And….this won’t happen again,” they continued.

“It better not.” Jubilee warned as she placed a hand over Amiko’s shoulder, and started to walk her away, but not before imparting one last piece of friendly advice. “And tell your other friends too. Amiko Yashida is Jubilee’s sister. She’s off limits, and anyone who tries to say or do anything to her will have to deal with ME.”

----

Back at Logan’s workshop,

Remy eyes shot up as the door to Logan’s office opened revealing a frustrated, pissed off and altogether exhausted looking Logan, his white flannel shirt all smudged with tears and mascara.

His leg slightly better now, Remy rushed to the older man’s side, an apologetic look on his face. He owed a lot to him. Remy had been a ‘small-time’ thief, mainly dealing with small pieces of jewelry and contraband alcohol. A couple of years ago, he botched up on a deal and his ‘customers’ came looking for him to extract their money one way or the others….most probably in the form of body parts, namely HIS. It was Logan had intervened, and that too only on ‘Marie’s request’. Paying off all his debts, Logan gave him a long, well, a two-minute talk and an option. He offered him a job in his new business – selling imported second hand cars. However, he did have one condition, no more stealing, peddling or any other nefarious activities of his. Literally grabbing for straws and just happy to be in one piece, Remy accepted it immediately and had never looked back since.

Then, six months ago, Logan gave him a second offer. He was going to get a dealership for selling new cars along with old ones. Logan gave him an offer for five percent ownership in that new venture; with an option to increase it to twenty-five percent in the future – as and when he got the funds. Remy readily took that deal too.
Things were going great. Set up at the front of the operations, doing what he did best, using his outgoing, friendly nature and his sweet-talking, glib tongue to dupe people, this time to buy cars, Remy was happy with the work he was doing. Although hard and headache causing sometimes, the fact that none of the people coming in into their showroom was likely to chop or blow his head off, certainly made things lean in favor of his current job. An excellent salesman, he had a ninety percent sales record. As for Logan’s involvement, he took care of the rest including the workshop.

---

Just like Remy, Logan had taken in two other seemingly lost causes. Both of them were young men barely out of their teens. One was Kurt Wagner, Marie’s long lost and recently united twin brother and the other a Russian immigrant by the name of Piotr Rasputin, or Peter or Pete as the others called him. Respecting their mentor, both of them looked up to Logan as a sort of elder brother and for learning about America, its culture, people and way of life. Remy used to joke about this. Logan, a red-blooded Canadian, teaching Kurt, a German and Piotr, a Russian about America…..then again, Remy himself was anything but American. Born of Cajun parents, but in France, he spent his childhood all over Europe. His father, a thief himself, would pick up and move every few months, staying a maximum of a year at any given place. Consequently, Remy as well as his older brother, Henri and their mother would have to move too. That gave the rolling stone Remy yet another cause for staying on with Logan and the others. Here, with them, he was finally having the stability that had always been lacking in his life….he was putting down roots, making a name for himself….and possibly one day, if he did not screw it up first, a family too…with his Anna Marie.

In fact, no one within their circle of family and friends were ‘Americans,’ all except Marie. She was as American as they came, right from her Southern drawl, to her her pies and cookies, to the diner she owned across the road from the workshop-cum-dealership. The rest of them had come to America to make a life for themselves and loved almost everything about this country, just as they did about their birth countries. Almost because, if there was anything that Logan could not stand American, was the *piss tasting* beer, as he called it, they sold in the bars here. Moreover, whenever there was a hockey match, the TV room was like a war zone, with General Logan, a Molson firmly grasped in one hand, barking out orders to the Canadian Hockey Soldiers. The man could not skate to save his life, let alone on ice, forget about playing on it, but he knew each minute detail and statistic about *THE* game. For him sports started and ended at Ice Hockey.

---

“Ya can go in now,” Logan grunted, walking past him. He hated acting as an intermediary between Remy and Marie. The only reason he did it was that Marie was family. For all her confidence and bravado, when it came to matters of the heart, she was as innocent as newborn lamb. She had led a hard life – facing many tragedies since childhood. She lost her parents in an accident, lost her twin brother at the same time too. Luckily, a German couple saved and later adopted him. However, when they moved back to their native country, they took young Kurt along with them…and it would be years before the two siblings met again. As for Marie herself, she was found by Irene Adler and her companion Raven Darkholme. A kind-hearted by blind diner owner, Irene, one morning literally ran into a six-year-old child sleeping on the diner stairs, starving and with a high fever. She had taken in Marie and she and Raven raised the young girl as their own. Three and a half years ago, both Irene also died of cancer, leaving young Marie once again without a parent. Grief stricken at her lover and best friend’s death, Raven also had left for parts unknown, but not before asking Logan to take care of their young charge. Logan not only took care of her as family, he also taught her the intricacies of running a business. A year and a half later when Raven finally did return, she was incredibly proud of her daughter, but to Marie’s dismay, she refused to stay in New York, let alone at the diner. Everything about the place reminded her of Irene, of what they built and shared together. A lot had changed since then and even though still not able to stay on at a permanent basis in New York, Raven did visit every few months, in between her breaks from her tarot card reading and fortune telling business. The last time she came, it was after her six-month stint in Las Vegas. Currently, she was somewhere in California.

Two years later, Marie finally got a lucky break when her long lost brother came looking for her. Kurt had followed the trail of his biological parents and managed to track down his sister. He had since then moved in with Marie, completed an automotive mechanic certification course and joined Logan in his workshop.

“This is your last chance Gumbo,” Logan scowled at the Cajun Casanova. “I told ya. You hurt her and I’ll gut ya myself.”

Remy nodded his head. “Dat won’t happen mon ami.” Heading towards Logan’s office, he slowly pushed the door open. He had a lot of explaining to do.

----

*Beep Beep Beep…*

Ororo lifted the phone receiver. It was the school intercom. “Yes?”
“There is a call for you Miss. Monroe,” the receptionist answered. Ororo looked up at the clock, a smile appearing on her face. ‘Has to be her.’
“Yes Jean,” she answered even before the person at the other end could speak.
“Don’t yes Jean me,” her best friend’s voice came loud and clear. “I know you wait for this call as much as I wait for making it.”
Ororo laughed at her remark. Jean or rather Dr. Jean Grey was one of her closest friends and probably the nearest she came to having a sister. They made it a point to talk to each other at least once a day.

“Yes Jean,” the younger Ororo repeated with a chuckle.

“So how’s your day coming along?” Jean asked, her mouth filled as she took a bite from her ‘feels like meat’ Tofu burger.
“Oh the usual, nothing much except for a new student,” Ororo started telling her about Amiko and that she had agreed to tutor the young Japanese girl in English.
“But we are still on for Saturday, aren’t we” Jean inquired about their weekly get together.

Ororo scrunched her nose as if she had bitten something very bitter. ‘No,’ she sighed internally. ‘Not that.’ Although she enjoyed the time she spent with her friends, she hated their choice of venue. ‘The Salem Center Country Club’ – a bunch of nouveau riche high society wannabes, sucking up to the old money people. Her father Professor Xavier was a respected member of the club, and was on its administrative committee, but even he knew about his daughter’s detest for the ‘showiness’. If it were up to her, they would have a private picnic, somewhere out in the countryside, away from all the pomp and show of the club. If there ever was one, she was a true nature’s child, right down to her preference for wearing and using natural fibers, silk and cotton being her favorite.

“Yes Jean,” her reluctance was clear in her voice. “We are still on for Saturday.”

Jean reminding her of their country club meeting gave her an idea and brought a smile to her face. ‘This is the last time. From next week, I have got an iron tight alibi.’ She was going to ask Amiko to move their weekend tuition time from Saturday morning to afternoon, giving her a perfect excuse to get out from going to the club….or even if she had to go there, she could break away sooner.

“So both of you are going to be there?” Jean confirmed. “Scott and I have somewhere else to go Saturday morning and will meet you there directly.”
“Of course,” Ororo put on her best sarcastic tone. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Ha, Ha, Ha….very funny Ororo.”

Suddenly there was a knock on her office door. ‘A student,’ the silhouette from behind the frosted glass told her.
“Jean, I have got to go. There is someone at the door. “Talk to you tomorrow…Bye,” with that she returned the hand piece to its cradle.

“Yes…enter,” she called out, writing down to call and confirm her date for the weekend bore-fest.

----

“Marie.” Remy called out softly as he entered the office. Marie was sitting in Logan’s chair, staring out at the workshop, a box of Kleenex on her lap.
Silently making his way to her side, Remy got on his haunches. “Cherie…” he whispered, taking one of her gloved hands within his own. Both Marie and Remy had a strange habit of wearing gloves, even in the warm September weather.

“Cherie…Remy nevah wanted to hurt ya,” he continued. Gently pulling her glove off, he kissed the inside of her hand, softly. “Please Marie….say something.”
“Why.” Marie’s voice was hoarse from insistent crying.
“Why?”
“Why’dya go with her,” Marie clarified, trying to pull her hand away from his – unsuccessfully.
“She….” Remy tried to get the right words before speaking out. “She came yesterday. She was sad and wanted a friend to talk to….someone to listen to her. You know how she misses dat man of hers.”
“Is that all you all did? Talk?” Marie’s voice tightened towards the end. “Or did ya help her some othah way….”

“NO,” Remy pressed two fingers at her lips, silencing the words just about to come out. “Remy didn’ do dat. Just drink an’ talk….not that Remy said he wait for his Marie….as long as it takes. No one else”
“Remy that woulda take a lohng tahme,” Marie reasoned. “Yer a man…Ah feel afraid, thaht ya’ will….”
“No one for this’ Cajun except his Marie,” Remy reassured her. “He….”

*Tring Tring* *Tring Tring*

The office phone ringing cut him off. It was on Logan’s personal line. “’ello,” he answered.

A few seconds later,

“LOGAN…there’s a call from the school.”

----

Much later,

“WHY?” Logan asked loudly, his face red with anger.

He was barely containing himself from losing control and his yelling at his daughter wasn’t helping any. He never wanted to scold his girls, let alone raise his voice at them. However, this was something he could not….would not let slide….not again.

“Answer me Jubes,” he demanded, rubbing his hand over his face and into his hair in frustration. “A second time….SECOND TIME…..What have you got against those boys and their family?”
“But Wolvie….” Jubilee tried.
“Don’t,” Logan’s harsh tone silenced her. “Don’t Wolvie me kid, not now. I heard everything from yer teachers…especially that *pretty boy*. How could ya do this again? I don’t send you kids to the best private school in the city just so that you can go there and act like a bully. The first time they let it go and so did I…but not this time.”

--

//Flashback//

“Mr. Howlett,” Logan looked up as the secretary called his name. He had been waiting outside the vice principal’s office.

Forty-five minutes ago, he was in the workshop when a call from the school came in. His first instinct was that something happened to the girls. However, he was informed that that was not the case and that vice principal would like to meet him relating to something involving his elder daughter….something about her threatening another kid.

‘Jubes. What did you do now?’ His mind hits the bulls-eye with the first try….had to be her. She was in trouble…again.

The woman on the other end did not give any other information, except that he should be at the school within the next hour.

---

“Yeah…” Mare D’Ancanto looked at the man who had answered her. ‘MAN’, the young woman thought….’more like raw sex poured into the tightest possible jeans. How does he breathe in those?’

“Mr. Summers is waiting for you,” she informed him, pointing towards the door, with the polished “Scott Summers, Vice Principal,” nameplate. Her eyes followed him as he grunted a thanks and walked…prowled more like it, towards the door, his biceps clear within the close fitting arms of the flannel shirt.

Reaching that door, Logan did not bother to knock, just turned the knob and entered the room.

---

Scott Summers’s eyes widened at the sight of the man who had just entered the room. From the girl’s records, he knew that their father was a Caucasian, but the man standing in front of him didn’t look old enough to be a father of a sixteen year old teenager.
“Yes? Can I help you?”Hhe asked steadily, hoping to makeup for the other man’s physical advantage and unnerve him.
“I am here regarding my daughter, Jubi….” Logan corrected himself to use her complete name. “….Jubilation Lee.” Not even ten seconds in the room and already he didn’t like the sophisticated ‘dick-head’. The asshole hadn’t even offered him a chair to sit on.
“Daughter?” Scott did not need to feign his surprise. This man was her father. “Are you….Mr….” he checked the file in front of him. “Mr. Howlett.”

“Yeah,” Logan grunted his reply, as he pulled the chair and sat down himself. Who did this four-eyed fucker think himself to be? More importantly, who did he think Logan to be? One of the wimpy, zit faced pups that he taught in his class.

Truth be told, he had expected and was used to this type of reaction from people. He used his real name very less. As far as he was concerned, he had left that name and person a long way back. It had too much baggage attached to it…like orphan, ex-thug, ex-trafficker and a whole lot of other ex-es that he wanted to forget. He had even thought of officially changing it to Logan, but the flamin’ paperwork….hah, what’s the use anyway. Its just a freakin’ name.

---

“Do you have any identification?” The words barely left Scott’s mouth when the man snarled…practically growled at him. That further strengthened his doubts. He couldn’t imagine this man being anyone’s father, let alone two girls, both of whom didn’t have his last name…two ‘Asian’ girls for that matter.

“Identification?” Already beyond annoyed, Logan was quickly heading towards pissed off territory. ‘Why the….little prick. Who does he think he is?’

Reaching for his wallet, he whipped out his license and tossed it onto the desk. “This good enough for ya?”

Taking his eyes off from Logan, Scott grasped the license. Indeed, it stated his name as James Howlett.

“I am sorry Mr. Howlett” he apologized. Pressing the intercom button, he asked his assistant to ask Ms. Munroe to bring the students in, and ask Mrs. McCoy to accompany them.

---

Five minutes later there was knock on the door and a medium statured, dark haired woman entered the room. Just behind her were Amiko and Jubilee and another woman whose immediately caught Logan’s eyes. Had the time and conditions been different, she would surely have got Logan’s onetime patent feral-leer. However, not now…now it just wanted to know why the hell were both of his daughters in the room. As far as he knew, it was to be only about Jubilee. Amiko had just started at this school and there was no way in any damn place that he was going to believe that Amiko did anything to hurt or harm others.

While both women occupied chairs placed at the right hand side of Scott’s desk, Amiko and Jubilee stood the left. It was too fuckin’ court like for Logan’s liking…..and he had some…scratch that, he had quite a lot of experience with courts. Although still sporting a defiant look on her face, Jubilee did not meet her father’s eyes. As for Amiko, she was just confused as to why she had been asked to step out of class and accompany Ms. Monroe to the vice-principal's office. Seeing her father there, brought in nervousness into that confusion.

---

As soon as every one was in place, Scott dealt with the introduction and quickly launched into what Logan correctly guessed a much repeated sales rep.

“Mr. Howlett, we at Xavier’s believe in a complete development of the child’s mind …” For the next ten minutes he continued with his monologue. If it had not been for his daughters, Logan would have walked out after the first thirty seconds. The fact that he was uninterested, was lost to Scott, who wasn’t paying much attention to the man he was speaking to, but was treating him as a student and the situation as a class lecture. He seemed to have been sold on the biker/rough/thug/wrong side of the law idea about Logan and was treating him as such.

However, neither Ororo nor Cecelia, both boggled out of their minds as to the identity of Amiko and Jubilee’s father and the fact that these two were sisters, noticed how Mr. Howlett’s hand was fisting around the padded arm rests.

----

Once Scott finished and Cecelia started with her speech, Logan almost wanted the three of them to just give them their best twenty hits and be done with it. ‘Been here fuck more than half an hour and still not a single thing of use.’

“Mr. Howlett,” Cecelia smiled at him. “I’d like to thank you for taking the time from your busy schedule and coming in at such a short notice,” she said in an effort to put him at ease. However, from the way Logan just nodded at her, it did not have quite an effect.

Seeing that she had his attention, she proceeded to tell him about the recess-hour incident.

“She shoulda decked the little…” Logan grunted, just reigning in the last word of that comment.

“Mr. Howlett!” Shit. Four eyes again. An’ what’s the deal with the funky glasses. “We do no encourage, condone or accept violence at Xav…”
“But you sure as hell do it with making fun of a person on how they look,” Logan cut him of midway.
“Its not that ei…” Scott sputtered. He wasn’t used to be interrupted, especially not by people such as Logan.

“Where are you from?” Logan completely neglected him and turned his attention to Cecelia.
“Me!” Cecelia was slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly as she caught onto what was happening in front of her. Logan was wresting the control of this meeting…literally yanking it out from under Scott. Just like Scott, he too seemed accustomed to have his orders followed. “I am from New York.”

“I meant which country did yer parents, grand parents, whatever come from,” Logan did not seem satisfied with her answer. “Which South American country?”
“Peru.”

“Mr. Howlett,” Scott tried to interrupt, not at all liking the grin that had formed on Jubilee’s face.

“So, you must really get a kick outta people calling ya Mexican.” The grin changed to a barely contained giggle, one that not even Scott’s ‘keep quiet’ glare seemed to push down.
“Or even better,” Logan went one-step further. “How about wetback? Sure must want hug an’ kiss ‘em then.”

“Mr. Howlett!” Scott nearly shouted. “There is no need to use that tone. Racial slander and slurs are also not accepted here.”
“Shove it one-eye,” Logan pulled Jubilee to him and nodded for Amiko to come next to him too. “What do you think, I didn’ see the way you look at them and me? Or how these two…ladies,” he emphasized. “How they see me and see them and think that how could a mugger wannabe like me be having two Asian girls, one Chinese and one Japanese with him. Heck, you can look all you want, I don’t give a damn. I’ve heard enough and seen enough in my life and I’ll be damned if my kids have to go through the same. Think of me all you want, but anyone even lifting an eye against my kids…..”

----

“Scott,” Ororo deliberately used Scott’s first name. She wanted to him step down a notch….before things really went out of control. Although not impressed by Mr. Howlett’s rather blunt language, she did understand and empathize with certain points. She too had experienced such comments and or actions from others….both from Caucasians as well as people from her own race. Her white hair and blue eyes, clearly spoke out her differences. Some of the comments had been so horrific that they had made her cry on more than one occasion. Anything anyone would say about her, she would be able to bear, but once another girl, an African-American girl, had called her late mother a slut….a whitie lover….bitch. Well, suffice to say; that even though the then fourteen-year Ororo had cried the whole night, the girl who had made the comment had lost two of her teeth as well as a handful of her hair.
It was Xavier who had given her the understanding to face such situations….and to rise above them. He taught her what he and her parents believed, that underneath all the external physical variances, everyone was just the same. Most people had misconceptions about other cultures and people, and that lead to distrust, which led to prejudice. He believed that instead of confrontations, they should try to impart knowledge to them…because knowledge and education were two of the greatest equalizers…even more so than money and power.

“Mr. Howlett,” she kept her tone steady and as non-threatening as possible. It was clear that he would not take anything said against his daughters. “I…we understand your….we understand you taking offense, but please try to see our point of view too. However, just as we don’t condone violence, we also do not condone racism or prejudicing of any kind, either based on basis of race, sex or religious beliefs. That is why we have a standard uniform for all the children. It is to give them all a level standing.”

“Hn.” Her words seemed to have some calming effect. “I still say, she shoulda given him at least one.”

‘You would,’ the words were on the tip of Scott’s tongue, but giving into Ororo’s better ‘personal’ skills, he decided to sit it out.

Ororo also let the comment slide. No use just going around in circles. Instead, in the same steady tone she had used earlier, she informed Logan that although no action was being taken against Amiko, Jubilee was being suspended for one week.

-----

Even though he heard her out, Logan’s grip had tightened so much that his knuckles had turned white.

“Finished?” he inquired tightly. At Ororo’s nod, he roughly pushed his chair back and stood up. Ignoring the vice principal, he kept his attention on Ororo and Cecelia….for now. He asked if he could take Amiko too. Ororo had no problem with that. Given what the girl had been through, she thought it was a good idea. She told her choice to Scott who also agreed with her.

Logan then asked Jubilee and Amiko to wait for him outside. As soon as they stepped out and the door closed behind them, he turned to Scott and gave one parting remark.

“I ain’t gonna say sorry fer what Jubilee did, ‘cause I am not. If ya believe in all the *overall development shit* ya blabbered about, then maybe ya should teach the kids how ta behave with people who don’t look like them. Maybe then yer words and punishment might have some meaning…An’ I want those ‘innocent kids’,” he spat out the words. “…to be taken care off. You suspended my girl, you better do something about them…”

Letting his words hang in the air, he turned around and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

//End Flashback//

----

“I just couldn’t let those idiots tease and bully her,” Jubilee shot back at her father.

“No…but what ya coulda done was go an’ get a teacher…not scare the shit outta them.” Logan tried to justify to her. His own reaction would have been much worse, but he did not want that for his daughters. He was proud of his girls and no punk ass kid was gonna make them feel bad about who they were.

Jubilee just huffed at him. They had been going at each other for the past hour and still could not reach a common ground.

Taking a deep breath Logan announced, “Jubes….yer grounded.”
“What!” The girl just flared up.

“Yer grounded,” he repeated again. “…fer a week.”
“Wha…this sucks.”

“No leaving the house, no phone, no games…nothing.”
“This….” Jubilee opened and closed her mouth trying to get the appropriate words for her case. Unable to do so, she fell back on the tried and tested. “Sucks.”

With that, she stomped away to her room. A few minutes later, the sound of Logan’s Harley pulling out from the garage reverberated into the night. The girls were his life and it pained him doing what he did. Heck, he wasn’t set up for these sort of things….SHE was the one who did this…until…

----

Few hours later,

Sitting in the darkest corner of the bar, his wallet in his hand, a half-empty beer on the table in front of him….Logan was staring at the wallet.

Raising his free hand, he gently slid out the photograph from the plastic casing. The photo was faded with age and use.

Caressing the face of the woman whose face was on the photo, he whispered just one word…

“Mariko”





You must login () to review.