by Tina Stauss
Super Three’s
Copyright 2014 Tina Stauss
Table of Contents
Acknowledgement
Chapter One
Chapter Two
About Tina Stauss
Connect Author Tina Stauss
Acknowledgement
I wish to thank my son for being the inspiration for this short story. He is the light of my life; he has given me strength in the bad times, given me cuddles in the sad times and given me reasons to write. This story was just a thought that happened one night when he asked me if he could be a super hero. I of course told him that everyone is super in his or her own way. However, I started thinking how it would be to parent a super hero child.
Chapter One
“Andrew?” Maggie says as she jerks herself conscious from a dead sleep. Hearing noises in the distance she doubts Andrew is in his bed. She allows her eyes to adjust to the dark and yanks herself up, grabbing for her robe. Maggie shuffles down along the hallway to Andrew’s room.
This isn’t new to Maggie; every night is an adventure with Andrew. Opening the partly closed door “Andrew, where are you?” she says. Looking around and feeling for the light switch, “are you hiding from mommy?”
When Maggie first found out she was pregnant she was horrified. Her family legacy was not at all a subject she ever wanted to talk about. Let alone something that she wanted to pass down. She was afraid. Her parents taught her that being super was not accepted. She knew it would be hard to raise a baby, and even more so if that baby was different. She thought of ending it, she contemplated for the first two weeks. In the end, she realized that having a family was important to her, even if that meant being a single mother, to a super.
Maggie looks around the meager nursery; there is a wooden toddler bed, a small table, red and blue dresser, and shelves filled with toys. On the floor are Andrew’s favorites; his big blue dump truck, his books, a stuffed Elmo, but no Andrew. When Andrew was born, he didn’t show any signs of special abilities. At first Maggie was delighted, she thought maybe he would be normal. However, when Andrew turned a year old that all changed. Andrew could fly. Maggie wasn’t surprised that he could fly. Her mother was a flyer. On the other hand, she was saddened to think that he did not take after her. Maggie was what her family called a speeder. She was tremendously fast, speeding bullet fast. Despite, her sadness Andrew was an exceptional little flyer. Then when Andrew turned two he started what her family called the light of death. Of course you didn’t die from the light, but it could be frightening. Basically when Andrew concentrated enough a bright light shined out of his eyes. However, Maggie thought it was great on those really foggy mornings.
Walking again down the hallway into the main living space, Maggie kept looking. Quickly noticing her son was not in the usual places. “Andrew?” she begged with a question in her voice. Tiredly glancing over the room, then down at the rugs and flooring. Tiptoeing in to get a closer look she spots a pair of feet. “There you are, you little turd,” she says. Getting down on her knees, she gently picks up her sleeping little boy, being extra careful not to bump his head on the coffee table. “You got yourself into a nice little hiding spot,” she whispers. Maggie then makes her way back down the hallway, back into Andrew’s room.
She lays the sleeping Andrew in his bed, and kisses his head. Her eyes are heavy, Maggie sighs with a breath of relief and walks back into her room and slips into bed.
“Mom, mom, mom, moaaaaaaaaaaom,” Andrew giggles head to head with Maggie. He is trying to lift himself up on the bed. “Mommy,” Andrew scolded getting a little frustrated with no answer.
Maggie slowly opens her eyes and yawns to see her little one staring back at her. “Good morning little boy,” she stretches herself awake. “Just what do you think you’re doing,” Maggie playfully warns. She slowly sits up in bed and reaches down to pick up Andrew. Tickling him as she gently throws him on top of the covers. Andrew laughs and giggles loudly. He loves to play on the bed with his mommy. “Mommy,” Andrew giggles reaching up to her.
They play on the bed for a while, throwing pillows, and playing tickle monster. Maggie loves this part of being a mother. She loves playing with her son, and watching him discover the world around him. Then she remembers he was in the living room last night.
“Let’s go make some breakfast, shall we?” she says. Picking up Andrew, she puts him down on the floor so he can walk. Then quickly clutches her robe and messily throws the covers up to make the bed. As she follows her toddler down into the hallway, she notices a darkish tint on the ceiling. Thinking that it isn’t normal, but not having time for it now, she glances into the living room and stops. She didn’t notice last night, but most of her photos and wall hangings are now on the floor. Her bookshelf is half empty, and the books are on the floor. “Maybe I need to lock him in his room?” she says. Looking around the room again, “no, I didn’t mean that,” she laughs and walks into the kitchen.
“So what shall we make?” Maggie asks as she walks over to the refrigerator.
“Mommy, toast Andrew make toast,” Andrew says.
“You want toast, then toast it is little boy,” she grins. Maggie gets out the bread and sets the toaster on the table. Andrew is playing on the kitchen floor with some of his toys. She gets out some jam and butter, then turns to put them on the table when she hears a crash. Looking around, she notices Andrew is gone. “Andrew, where did you go,” Maggie says. Hearing the crash again Maggie takes off like a flash. Using her power of speed she goes from the kitchen to his bedroom, then back to the living room in seconds.
She finds curtain rods on the floor in the living room. In Andrews’s bedroom his walls have that same gray spots in the corners. Maggie hears smashing again and races back into the kitchen. “Andrew, what are you doing in here?” she demands.
“Mom, look me,” Andrew giggles flying around the room in circles. Crashing on the ceiling, on the cabinets and landing on the floor. “Mommy, fly, mommy fly,” Andrew asks. Getting angry she yells, “Andrew no, no flying, do you hear me, no flying.” Andrew starts to cry, she feels bad that she yelled at him, but knows he needs to learn not to fly in the house. Her mother told her stories of when she was little and would race around the house and move things around. Once she kept moving her Father’s drink from the end table, he would reach for it and it was gone. Then the next second it was there again. She looks at Andrew, takes a deep breath and finishes making his toast. She walks over with the plate of toast to talk to him. “Andrew honey, your breakfast is done, come sit at the table and eat now.” Andrew, pouts and walks grumbling towards the table, “And no more flying,” she says shaking her finger at him.
The rest of the morning was filled with the same. It was her life, a normal life that she never imagined she would have. She had always wanted to be married, but since all of her boyfriends have never been hip on her super abilities, none were serious. She loved being a mom, and she didn’t mind doing it alone. Except for the clean up. Today she had to fix draperies in the living room and bedroom. She had to put away books that had fallen onto the floor, and re-hang all of her family photos and wall hangings. She also had to clean the dark spots on the ceiling in the hallway and Andrew’s bedroom. She still was not sure where those came from, thinking that maybe Andrew had some dirty little feet. She was exhausted after all of that, and was ready for Andrew to go down for his nap. Naps were still happening in her household. As Andrew grew like all toddlers, his energy levels went up. So did his urges to fly around the house, and blind you when you’re walking into a room. Or if he ever got startled he would do both at the same time often knocking things over. So she never let him go without a nap.
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“Nap time Andrew,” Maggie says. “No mommy, no nap, not tired,” he says as he rubs his eyes. “Come on, you are tired,” she tells him as she corrals him towards his room. Andrew yawns “Okay, mommy flying makes Andew tired,” he says. Maggie smiles and takes her son to his room. She tucks him snug into his bed and kisses him on the head. Looking around the room she had just cleaned up she decides to stay there in the rocker and keep an eye on him. Maggie starts to drift off while thinking of how far Andrew has come. She remembers the first time he flew. It was at a family picnic, and her mom had just set up the table with all the food. Andrew was playing with some toys on a blanket, and started calling out for her. Maggie turned her head to answer him when she saw him floating up into the air. He was giggling and stretching out is hands and legs, which made him turn and bounce up and down. He was headed towards the picnic table where all the food was freshly laid out. Maggie darted out to catch him, but he kept bouncing in all directions. Her Mother flew off to try to help catch him, and her Father ran around the table preparing to catch the food. Of course, Andrew’s butt hit the table, not only once, but a few times before Maggie was able to catch him. Food dishes went flying, food dumped onto the top of the table. Even her ability filled family couldn’t stop a one year old from ruining the family picnic. When Andrew went to his two year old doctor appointment, which was a family doctor. She was blinded when she shone the light into his eyes to have a look. Andrew didn’t like that very much and decided to give her the look back. Which gave the poor doctor a bit of a startle; she almost fell off her stool. She looked at Maggie with a disgusted look, Maggie remembers saying, “that’s new, sorry.” Maggie could hear Andrew snoring a bit, and drifted off to sleep.