Disclaimer: The X-Men, Excalibur, and their lieu of friends, enemies, and
people in between are in no way mine, not even in my dreams. However, Blue
(or, as he’s better known as Andre), Haitus, and Jeremy Maxielle ARE. What
da ya know! If I keep it up, in thirty years I might get me own book!
Lost Cries
by Jason Lewan
Part 3:Lullabye
Standing in the foreign room, I began to really worry. Where am I? How did
I get here? One minute, I’m at Muir Island, and then this little boy
comes…..
Taking a deep breath, I concentrated. Calm down, Meggan. Calm down. You
can do this. You know you can.
I realized that I was in what seemed like a sewing room. There were
curtains and a big closet, a table with a sewing machine, and fabrics draped
across the table, curtains, closet, and couch that inhabited the corner of
the room. A sewing room?
Finally, I decided to leave the room. There’s nothing I can do here, so…..
I walked to the door, checking for anything on the other side with my
powers. As far as I could tell, there was something putting a damper on my
powers…or someone. But nonetheless, I could tell there was nothing on the
other side.
Quickly opening the door and jumping into the hallway, I glanced around
frantically. Then I giggled at myself. Stop being so silly, Meggan.
There’s probably no one here. For now.
Walking down the steps, I heard the sound of an ice cream truck. An ice
cream truck? Aren’t those usually in America?
Perplexed and curious, I headed down the stairs, looking for a way outside.
Looking out a window in what seemed to be the living room of a two-story
house, I saw that there was, indeed, an ice cream truck. How could that be?
Checking again with my powers, I could sense the man in the truck. And
another presence, but this one was far away…..
Slowly I realized what was happening.
I quickly turned around and even flew in the air a bit, arms outstretched,
when I heard a voice behind me.. Instead of an assailant, I saw a TV there.
That wasn’t there before! Or was it?
"In other news, today a town suffered the effects of drunk driving. A young
couple with one son was murdered last night when hit by a large truck driven
by a drunk driver. The town has suffered some damage due to the accident, but
the local authorities are working on a solution," the anchor said. "At NATO
today…"
Eyebrow arching, I paused. Didn’t I hear that before? *
Walking backwards to the door, I stumbled out of it, opening the door by
punching through it. Why am I so unnerved? The whole feeling of this house,
though……What’s happening? The raw emotion that I can sense, the
depression…….
Heading to the levitated ice cream truck, I could sense the truck driver’s
fear.
"Help," the driver whispered once he saw me coming near. "Help me."
I noticed he had an American accent. Was I in America?
Glancing at the house, I saw that I wasn’t. The shutters…the architecture.
I recognized where I was. I was somewhere in a small town in France. That
had to be it.
Out of nowhere, shining light appeared next to me. Before I knew it, the
light formed and I saw a little boy there, with black hair and blue eyes.
The same boy I’d seen two times before.**
I suspected he was the cause of all this. I could sense it. All the clues
pointed to him. Finally, the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. I
understood it all now.
The driver squealed in trepidation. I looked at him. He obviously didn’t
know what was happening, and was way out of his league. This poor man,
pulled from America to here.
I kneeled to the little boy.
I could hear the truck’s music being played involuntarily in the background.
The little boy sat, a foot of the ground, cross-legged, smiling. "C’est
belle," he said. I knew what it meant. That’s pretty. He pointed to the
truck, grinning.
"Let him go," I said. I knew he could understand English. He’d spoken it
before.
He looked at my. "Pourquoi?"
"Why?" I said. "You know why. This is wrong. This isn’t how you deal with
the problem."
He looked at the ice cream truck, his face saddened. Forcing him to deal
slightly with reality had ruined the fantasy for him. He nodded at the
truck, and it began to disappear. The truck driver smiled, and began to
weep. "Thank you," he whispered, before he fully disappeared and went back
home.
"You can get rid of everything else now, too," I said.
The house, the lawn, the street, everything disappeared. I stood in a
little boy’s bedroom. The same boy with black hair and blue eyes lie in the
bed, sleeping. He got up, slowly. I sat by his side.
"Hi," I introduced. "I’m Meggan."
He nodded. "I’m Jeremy Maxielle," he said.
"Nice to meet you Jeremy," I said. "I think I know why you took me here."
I paused and looked him in the eyes. They began to tear. "You miss them,
don’t you?"
He nodded, slowly.
"We all do, Jeremy. One day you’ll understand that your parents will always
be alive in your memory of them. It’s a horrible thing that they died in a
drunk-driving accident, but there’s nothing you can do about it. I think
it’s time to stop all this, don’t you think?" I said. He nodded, a tear
falling down his face. I moved to put my arm on his shoulder, but by the
time I nearly put it on his shoulder, he disappeared.
Reappearing on the floor, he pointed down the hall.
I walked to where he pointed. I walked into another bed room, probably his
dead parents bedroom. I saw two people, levitated high in the air. On the
bed lie their son, Jeremy. I could sense that this was the real Jeremy. No
more tricks or illusions, no more magics. All the others ones where just
astral projections of himself. I could sense that in his astral form he had
great power. Telepathy, Telekinesis, Teleportion, and other things I
couldn’t even comprehend.
Maybe he would’ve learned how to use them.
His parents were alive, barely. I could tell that they were in a coma,
suspended there forever by a strong power. Their son.
Jeremy appeared next to me, in his astral form, crying. He walked to me,
and hugged me, staying solid this time. "I know, Jeremy, it’s going to be
okay," I said.
He sobbed, and I stayed there for a few minutes, letting him cry on my
shoulder.
Finally, I spoke. "You have to let them go," I said.
He nodded. He was a smart, mature kid, especially for his age. He couldn’t
have been older than 12. I could tell he was special. His parents probably
loved him a great deal.
His parents were slowly lowered to the floor. Jeremy walked to them in his
astral form. Still crying, he kissed them both on the lips. Waving
good-bye, his eyes flared. I sensed him releasing them.
His parents died quickly.
"That was the right thing to do, Jeremy," I said.
He turned to me, looking for all the world like a lost puppy. I knew what
was going to happen next. I walked to the bed, again sitting next to Jeremy,
but this time next to his real body. His astral form stayed standing by the
foot of his bed.
"Merci beaucoup," he said.
"You’re welcome," I said.
"Good-night," he finished. His astral form disappeared, and I began to cry.
Hugging his real body, I slowly felt the life disappear from it.
Jeremy Maxielle died, moments later, for all the world a lost child, unable
to live without his parents.
I walked over to a table where they kept some pictures. In one, his parents
knelt in a park, smiling, with Jeremy in the middle. They all looked
directly at the camera. The picture itself emitted love and care, and I
could tell that without even using my powers.
I walked to the door, turning back. "Good-bye, Jeremy," I said. Sometimes
it’s hard to let go. Sometimes it’s hard to go on.
Sometimes it’s hard to just watch.
I walked to the stairs, crying. I sat down half way through my journey.
It was just too much. The poor child. His parents carelessly murdered, his
wish not completely fulfilled through his mutant powers. Having to learn the
hard way when to hang on and when to let go. I had learned such things the
hard way, but for a twelve year old, full of power and youth, it’s a lesson
not yet learned.
Walking outside, I took to the air. Turning back and looking at the real
house one last time, I began to fly, tears flowing.
I thought of an old saying I’d heard over the times. "Time bandages all
wounds."
It certainly does, but not always completely. Not always completely.
To Be Continued
Next: The search for Kitty
All comments, request, suggestions, and criticisms, please direct to
PhaserBob@Aol.com
*Meggan first heard this news report in Just Like The Old Times: Epilogue
**Meggan met Jeremy Maxielle first in Just Like The Old Times: Epilogue and
then again in Lost Cries: Part 1
(
geocities.com/soho/studios) (
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