seymoure

25.

It was amazing how quickly after the plane took off that the boys found themselves with nothing to do.

There was a movie, but they didn’t have headphones. They had some food, but it was as tasty as notebook paper soaked in lima bean gravy.

They both had brought a stack of comics and soon they were submerged in that world. By the time they were through the first stack, both of them were sleepy and took a nap.

When they awoke the flight was coming down into the airport.

How long did it take? Neither of them had any idea. It seemed forever, but they were never good judges of time.

As they exited the plane their eyes fell on a man holding a sign that said “McCauley brothers.” The guy holding it could have been a vice principal in any elementary school in the world. Balding, with glasses and an overly large mouth with teeth to match, he was about 5 foot and a couple of inches tall.

The man was wearing a suit that would have fit into a 1940’s movie better than anything current.

When the boys presented themselves to him he looked annoyed rather than relieved.

“Well, at last,” He looked around and waved at another, younger man, “Follow this man and he will take you to your plane. I have to wait for the last one.”

“Where’s Colonel Stonedragon . . . “ David started.

“He’s already at the plantation, “ the man said, while looking around for another sign he had set down, “He will meet us there.”

The younger man, with blond hair and a sad attempt at a pale mustache, gathered the boys up.

“What about our bags?” Mickey asked.

“All taken care of,” Blond man smiled, “Being loaded into the Leer as we speak.”

After three or four steps the boys were joined by a girl about 16 years old. She had short red hair and freckles, and walked with the slightest limp.

“This is Carvine Dandoval, she is going with us, along with the boy who has yet to arrive.” He turned to the girl and said, “These are Mickey & David McCauley from America.”

She gave them a nasty look and then they walked in silence.

They left the terminal and walked out on the tarmac, and in the midst of the giant airliners was a small private jet. With no ceremony the four of them entered it and took seats in a comfortable cabin which could have been part of a home’s living room area.

The boys saw that Carvine was listening to some music on headphones, and the Blond Man was working on a computer terminal.

They found a deck of cards on one of the tables and the two of them played a rather headed game of slap jack. They even enjoyed that it seemed to disturb both of the other occupants of the jet from time to time.

Finally in came the Vice Principal with another boy. The boy was about Mickey’s age with a shock of red hair sprouting straight up from his head for about 5 inches. It looked a bit like a buzz cut on steroids.

The boy was dressed in a blazer and short pants. He also had that look some guys get who are working on a plan to make trouble at the first opportunity. Mickey liked him already.

The stodgy man got the boy in his seat and walked to the front of the cabin.

“My name is Francis Throop, and I will be in charge until we reach the plantation. That, thank God, will only be for an hour or so more. Then you will fall under jurisdiction of others.”

He took a seat facing them and, while buckling his seat belt, continued. “You may have expectations of what is coming, but let me explain some things that are not going to be happening.

He looked sternly at his charges and said, “We are not going to Hogwart’s and you will not be meeting with the X-Men. The only Professor X you will be meeting you have already met.” He pointed at the Blond
Man, “That is Xavier Position and he will do your orientation. And what you will spend the next month doing is finding out if you will survive in a world that only wants you to have the powers you if you are working for them.”

He reached out and took a piece of plastic with a chord, pushed a button on it and said, “Now!” The plane began to move and Mr. Throop closed his eyes and pretended he was alone.

The boys returned to their seats and strapped themselves in.

The girl continued to listen to music.

The boy was fiddling with something in is coat pocket, with an air that said there would be trouble coming from there soon.

Mr. Position was back on his computer.

The boys looked at each other with a single thought.

“Superhero school!” They smiled at each other about the time the sound of whoopee cushion disturbed Position, annoyed the girl and did nothing to bring Throop back into the same space as the rest of them.

When the boys laughed, it had nothing to do with the sound.