Orson

by David Delaney

  Mr. Kelly stood. I tracked him with my eyes as he walked to the doorway leading from the dining room to the front of the house. He paused and turned back toward me. "No thinking being can avoid superstition. It's encoded into our brains to wonder what may be hiding in the dark. For us, that thing is the Ollphiest, and the fact that that term may describe what kind of shifter you are has rattled some nerves. Wait here. If I can't convince them to go away, then when I bring them back, just remain calm and answer any question they ask, if you can. There is no need to lie or make up what you think they want to hear. Understand?" I nodded. He walked out of the room.

  Mrs. Kelly smiled at me. "It will be okay." I wasn't sure who she was trying to reassure: herself or me.

  My mouth was dry. I picked up my glass and took a long swallow of juice. Elyse reached up, adjusted my collar, and ran her fingers through my hair in an attempt to make my bed head more presentable. Somehow, I didn't think the people at the door cared about what my hair looked like.

  The three of us remained quiet. I heard Mr. Kelly open the front door and speak to the uninvited visitors, but my super hearing not having kicked in yet. I couldn't make out the conversation.

  It was frustrating, because I knew Elyse and her mom could hear every word. "What are they saying?" I whispered to Elyse.

  Elyse put her finger to her lips. She picked up her cell phone and started typing. Only when my phone buzzed did I realize she had texted me.

  If we can hear them, they can hear us,

  even if we whisper. Uncle Tommy wants

  to meet you. Dad is saying no

  Uncle Tommy? One of these guys was related to Elyse? I responded to her text with that question.

  He's your uncle?

  No. old friend of family, known

  him forever always called him uncle Tommy

  Mrs. Kelly motioned for us to put our phones away, just as I heard the front door close. Mr. Kelly had been unsuccessful in turning them away, because even I could tell there were multiple people walking back toward us. I set my phone down and took a deep breath. Elyse placed her hand on my leg.

  Mr. Kelly walked back into the dining room, followed by a man, almost as tall as Mr. Kelly, with skin the color of chestnut, a shaved head, bushy eyebrows and goatee. Uncle Tommy, I presumed. There was also a man who looked like a younger version of Uncle Tommy, with the exception he had a full head of hair. A son, maybe. It was only the three of them. Mr. Kelly must have worked a compromise, allowing only the two of them to come and meet the extinct shifter freak.

  Uncle Tommy was all smiles. The only problem was that nobody had informed the rest of his body. You could see the tension in the way he moved. He leaned down and kissed Mrs. Kelly's cheek, saying "Katie," and as he winked at Elyse, "Sweet pea." When he finished greeting the ladies, his eyes locked on me and didn't waver. The younger guy just stood in the doorway, still as a statue, looking from Elyse to me.

  Yeah, I didn't like these guys at all.

  "Hello, Tommy," said Mrs. Kelly.

  Mr. Kelly introduced us. "Thomas, this is Orson Reid. Orson, this is Thomas French and his son Kyle."

  I stood and offered my hand. I might not like the guy, but my aunt raised me with manners and to respect my elders. "Mr. French," I said.

  Uncle Tommy hesitated, almost as though he thought I might be contagious or something. But he quickly recovered and grasped my hand. Firm, but not a dominating crushing shake like some guys feel is necessary to assert their manliness. No, Thomas French was as confident and cool as they came. "Orson, nice to make your acquaintance."

  Liar, I wanted to shout. Instead, I nodded, pulling my hand back. I glanced at Kyle, who hadn't moved from his position. I nodded my head at him, and he gave me the barest of nods back, his hands clenched in fists at his side. Jeez, the guy looked like he was ready to pop. I wondered what his deal was. I sat back down, and Elyse took my hand in hers in a gesture of solidarity. Man, I love her. Uncle Tommy's eyes flicked briefly to our hands, and then he turned his attention back to Mr. Kelly.

  "Have a seat, Thomas. Kyle, have something to eat or drink. There's plenty." Mr. Kelly gestured toward the table.

  Uncle Tommy seated himself next to Mrs. Kelly, which put him across from me. Kyle continued to stand where he was. The guy was starting to give me the willies. Uncle Tommy got straight to the point.

  "I'm here, Orson, because you present a quandary. I'm sure Richard has been explaining." He paused and stroked his goatee. "Explaining how the world you thought you lived in is much more than it appears."

  "Yes, sir," I responded.

  "Thomas, or Tommy, please." He smiled and I couldn't help it: images of shark-nurse flashed through my mind. He didn't have the rows of pointy teeth that shark-nurse had, but he had the same predatory vibe. "You can understand that keeping the knowledge of our existence secret is of utmost importance. Displays like the one you engaged in yesterday are a no-no, and to be recorded on video . . . well, laws are laws."

  "Actually, Thomas, we hadn't broached the specifics of the law just yet. We were trying to lay a foundation first, a reference point to help Orson not be so overwhelmed," Mr. Kelly told Uncle Tommy.

  "Oh. I see. Well, Orson, public displays of power are strictly forbidden. We can't have the media crying 'superhuman smashes up local Wal-Mart' now can we?" Tommy asked, the condescension dripping off of every syllable.

  "It was Costco," I mumbled.

  Elyse tightened her hand around mine a fraction. I could read her warning loud and clear. 'Watch it, dork,' she was saying, without even looking in my direction. Kyle shifted his weight.

  "Excuse me?" Uncle Tommy's eyes narrowed.

  "I said, it was Costco. The place where I work." I would not let this jerk intimidate me. "And I can assure you, sir, I'm not one for displays of attention. I reacted to a life-threatening situation. As the video clearly shows, my coworker and I were in serious danger of being smooshed. As Mr. Kelly said, he was just getting me up to speed on the laws governing this sort of thing, but I have to imagine that a 'save your ass' exemption must be part of it?" I gave him my best smile. My, I just pulled a 'straight to your three of kind, and I'm taking all your money, you stupid noob' smile.

  Tommy's eyes bored into mine. He was giving it all he had trying to force me to look away. No way. Not today. I'd had a really stressful night and the morning wasn't starting off great. I wasn't about to let this jackass dominate me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kyle shift his weight again. He was barely keeping himself contained.

  Mr. Kelly slammed his hand down on the table, not hard but enough to rattle the dishes. It worked. Uncle Tommy and I dropped our eyes at the same moment, and we both looked at Mr. Kelly.

  "Thomas, the decision was made last night." Mr. Kelly held up a hand to stop Uncle Tommy from interrupting. "Katie, Elyse, and I are going to help Orson through the transition. The council agreed to that course of action."

  "Not unanimously," snarled Uncle Tommy.

  "No, not unanimously, but a unanimous vote isn't necessary and hasn't been since the rules were amended — by you, I might add, decades ago."

  So, good old Uncle Tommy had forced through a rule change. From my brief encounter with the man and his less than sunny disposition, I was guessing he changed the rules to push through some nasty piece of business he couldn't garner enough support for. But now he was on the wrong end of a decision, and he was pissed.

  What a tool.

  Mrs. Kelly spoke up, "Tommy, you know we would never do anything to endanger Elyse. Let us work with Orson." She smiled at me. "He is smart and a fast learner. There is nothing to worry about."

  Uncle Tommy stood up. "I hope not." He once again locked eyes with me. "I will be monitoring the situation closely. No need to show me out."

  Uncle Tommy spun on his heel and walked out of the dining room. Kyle hesitated and it looked like he might actually speak, but he reconsidered and followed his father out. A moment later, I heard the front door open and
slam shut. What a jerk.

  I started to voice my opinion of Uncle Tommy, but Mr. Kelly waved me off. "Wait."

  The three Kellys did that head cocked to the side thing again, listening. I strained to hear what they were hearing and faintly heard a car door slam and a car pull away.

  Mr. Kelly turned his attention back to me. "Thomas and Kyle and those with them have hearing every bit as good as ours. It's always best to wait until hostile visitors are in the car and down the driveway before resuming conversation."

  "Hostile? It seemed to me that if he could have killed me and buried me behind the back fence he would have," I said. "And what's up with that creepy kid of his? It was like he was trying to murder me with his eyes."

  "Tommy's scared, Orson. They all are, even those who voted to give us time to work with you," said Mrs. Kelly.

  "And what was up with you getting into a staring contest with him?" Elyse asked.

  "I . . . it was . . . he started it." Oh man, that was lame. What am I, a five-year-old?

  "Seriously?" Elyse dropped my hand, turned in her seat, and crossed her arms to give me the full body disapproval.

  "I know it's lame. It's just . . . I can't explain it. From the minute he walked in, he just made me angry."

  "It's perfectly normal," said Mr. Kelly. I watched Elyse's face go from ticked off to surprised, at her father's words. "Isn't it obvious? Orson, your body is transforming from the cellular level up. The anger you felt is a natural reaction to another shifter trying to dominate you."

  "Dominate? Like an alpha dog kind of thing?

  "Exactly. I'm assuming you don't normally challenge people you've just met?" Mr. Kelly asked.

  "No." I looked to Elyse for support.

  Elyse exhaled loudly. "No. He's usually totally easygoing." She offered her hand palm up, and I took it in my own.

  "Sorry," she said to me.

  I shook my head and crossed my eyes at her. "So . . ." I looked at each of them, stopping with Mr. Kelly. "You've been given time to help me transition, get up to speed. When do we start?"

  "As soon as you do two things. First, you will need to quit your job." Mr. Kelly held up a hand. "No. Let me finish. Second, we need to leave, this afternoon, for our cabin in Lake Arrowhead. Do you think it will be a problem getting convincing your Aunt?"

  "No, it shouldn't be. I'll just tell her you guys have invited me up to the cabin for a long weekend. She'll probably want to talk to you." I inclined my head toward Mrs. Kelly, "Just to make sure it's a real invite. But why do I have to quit my job? I kind of need the money for school."

  "All that will be taken care of. The only thing you need to concentrate on for the next few days are the changes occurring in your body. It will get very difficult, both physically and mentally. I need you to prepare yourself for that."

  "The store opens in about an hour. I'll head over there and give notice," I suggested.

  "Sorry, no notice. You will not be going back." I searched Mr. Kelly's face. I had never seen him this serious.

  "If that's what's required, you got it."

  "Good. We have to get a few things ready here. It's 9:00 am now. Can you be back by noon?"

  "Yes."

  "I should go with him," said Elyse.

  I was pretty sure her parents would say no to that suggestion. I was the Boogeyman, after all. Mr. Kelly surprised me when he nodded his head. All he said was, "I agree."

  CHAPTER 9

  Oh, man. My Corolla was in bad shape. The passenger side door was completely buckled. Someone had brushed out all the shattered glass from the window. I tried to open the door for Elyse, but it was stuck. I pulled with everything I had.

  "This would be a good time for my super strength to kick in," I told Elyse. "Is there, like, a special power word or something?" I asked her.

  She giggled. "No. Right now, your abilities are still in flux. If you're in danger or stressed out, they can trigger, but otherwise — not so much." She snuggled up to me. "You want to let me give it a shot?"

  I stepped aside. "Please, knock yourself out."

  Elyse stepped up to the door. She ran her hands over it, testing the handle. She squatted down to inspect the dent. "I don't know, Orson. This door may be history." She stood back up, slipped the fingers of both hands in between the door panels, and flexed. The dent popped out. She tried the handle, and the door opened with a loud metal groan.

  "Is it wrong I'm turned on right now?" I arched an eyebrow at her. It was a total Spock move, and I nailed it.

  Elyse reached up and grabbed a hold of both my ears, pulling my face toward hers. "Dork." She gave me a quick kiss and slid into the passenger seat, pulling the protesting door closed behind her.

  The drive to Costco was quick. The store was only ten miles from her house, but in L.A. traffic that could mean anywhere from fifteen minutes to twenty-five minutes, depending on time of day. We were hitting medium traffic, with it being the middle of the week and the late breakfast crowd was out, but I was cool with that because it gave me time for some strategic questioning. I knew her dad had given her strict instructions to avoid answering my questions. He wanted to be there for the question and answer sessions, and I couldn't blame him. He wanted to make sure everything was done properly, so the council wouldn't get all worked up over proper protocol.

  Still, I needed to know stuff.

  "So, you can turn into a giant cat?" Smooth opening, Orson. You're such a wordsmith. I don't know how the ladies don't swoon on your every word.

  My ridiculous lack of skill stringing together a more coherent question was not lost on Elyse.

  "Really? That's the best you got?" She asked.

  "I'm still in shock or something from recent and ongoing events. Give me a break." We stopped at a red light and I gave her my best puppy dog look, or at least I thought I did, because she laughed.

  "You look like you have gas," she said. So much for the pity play. The light turned green and saved me from further embarrassment.

  "There are certain things, a lot of things actually, that you need to wait for my dad to explain. But ask me what you want, and if I can answer I will. If I can't, I'll tell you so. Deal? She turned in her seat to face me.

  I kept my eyes on the road, no need for unsafe driving. "Deal," I agreed.

  Where to start? I had so many questions, but most of them I'm sure she would defer to her dad. I figured sticking to her experience, growing up and living every day with her abilities, was a safe place.

  "It's called shifting? When you turn?"

  "Yes. It describes it perfectly. 'Are we going to shift?' 'Did you shift?' See? It works well for just about every usage. We also use the term form. 'Was she in cat form.' Like that."

  "You can shift anytime? It's not, you know, contingent on the full moon?"

  "Yep, anytime. The moon thing came about because it's just a lot more fun to go running in the moonlight."

  "As a kid, or a baby, how did you control your shifting?"

  "That is a great question." She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "The answer is in depth and technical, but what I can tell you is that, until we hit puberty, we don't mingle with the public much. I attended a private school until junior high."

  "So, there are control issues?"

  "For the young, yes."

  "But for adults, there isn't a problem?"

  Elyse was smart; she was able to read between the lines of my question and her posture stiffened slightly. "Are you asking if we're dangerous?"

  "Well, yeah. You can turn into a pretty wicked-looking panther, and your mom went full beast-form last night. Knowing if control is ever an issue seems like a valid question." I snuck a peek at her, to see if she was upset at my question.

  "You weren't afraid of us, were you?" Elyse asked, and the worry in her voice drew my attention away from the road for a moment.

  I reached over to hold her hand. "No. Absolutely not. You guys were awesome," I assured her. "But that guy today, Uncle Tommy, he see
med like he could do some serious damage and didn't seem as cool and in control as you and your mom and dad."

  Elyse didn't answer right away. I glanced over at her again. The evidence of an internal struggle was written across her face. That was answer enough for me. Uncle Tommy was a jerk of the first order, and I had pissed him off. Super, Orson, just super.

  When she spoke, it was in much quieter voice. "I can't say much. You get that there are rules — laws — that govern our behavior?"

  I nodded.

  "There are some of those rules that, if violated, carry a . . . heavy penalty." She paused, waiting for me to comprehend her words.

  Okay. A heavy penalty like what: shape-shifter jail? Then, I realized what she was saying. "You mean, like the death penalty?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

  "Orson, you have to understand: if the Society were exposed . . . The world just isn't ready. You love the X-Men. How does being a mutant usually work out for them?"

  "It's okay," I tried to assure her, but my voice wasn't cooperating. "I get it." But I didn't get it. I'm a product of growing up in a world where people weren't put to death for telling secrets. Sure, there was the death penalty, but that was reserved for serial killers, and even then, it was super controversial. In California, convicts could sit on death row for years, decades even.

  "My dad can explain it better."

  "So, our buddy Uncle Tommy, he's like what? An enforcer or something?" I'm pretty sure I knew the answer to that one too. The guy had stared at me with menace in his eyes.

  "He is on the council and they decide things like that, yes. I don't think I should say any more. Dad can explain it so much better."

  "All right. But should I be worried that he obviously doesn't like me?"

  "No. He was just trying to be intimidating."

  "Well, it worked. He's a scary dude. Uh, what does he turn into, a panther also?"

  I glanced at her. She was biting her lip. It was her tell. If Elyse was nervous or anxious, she nibbled that bottom lip. I've always thought it was cute, but in the current circumstances, I didn't think it was a good thing.