(no subject)

[seymoure]

1.

Mickey was excited. It was going to be the first day of his classes.

He had made it though the orientation in a breeze. Having done actual combat, being kidnapped and battling the soldiers of “the other side,” had let him get more of a feel for the “super”
life than he had ever thought he would.

Now he was going to study the history of the Inheritors, the science involved and get personal training to find the extent and potential of his own powers.

David was going to get out of the hospital unit today, but he would take a couple of more days before joining the school program.

To his surprise and joy his parents had stayed on and were helping the faculty in ways he hadn’t yet discovered.

His mother had left hours earlier, so his father was the one who had fixed him breakfast. When he had asked how an accountant could make such good pancakes he got back a puzzling answer.

His father had said, “Mr. Harvey was absolutely insistent that all the cooks in his restaurants were skilled in breakfast above all. You had to be able to send folks off on the railroad with a good stack of griddle cakes in their bellies.”

His dumbfounded gaze was answered with, “You’ll understand it all soon. Just get finished dressing.”

With that his father turned and left the kitchenette of their Thunderbase apartment.

Who was Mr. Harvey? Griddle cakes on the railroad? You shouldn’t be confused on your first day of classes, but Mickey was.

And it would only get more . . . well, weird . . . as he began to understand the world of which he was now a part.

People with amazing powers were the smallest part of the wonder that waited to be discovered.

Somehow an old “Firesign Theatre” album his father had played for him came to mind. It was called something like “Everything You Know Is Wrong.”

He had not the least idea.

© 2005 by C. Wayne Owens