The First: EVO Uprising

by Kipjo Ewers

  “Say it again?” her mother asked. “Me hearing not too good dese days.”

  Sophia knew her hearing was perfect, she just wanted to hear her repeat it again.

  “You have… a granddaughter.” She emphasized each word.

  “You’re pregnant?” was her mother’s first and obvious question.

  “No.” Sophia lowered her head running her finger in a circle pattern on the table. “I never miscarried during the trial. I gave birth, and Charles helped me to fake her death. She was adopted by a family in Boston.”

  Awkward silence held the kitchen captive as her mother tried to process what her daughter had just said.

  “Why?” was her mother’s next question, encompassing a series of questions.

  “I did it to keep her away from the General,” she sighed, beginning her explanation. “I knew he would try and take her even if I left her with you. I didn’t want him to do to her what he did to Robert. Then those bad people who killed Robert that I told you about also killed the adoptive parents and kidnapped her, because she’s just like me. Actually, she’s the reason I am still alive. She’s the first superhuman, not me. Somehow, when she was in my womb growing inside me, I inherited her powers. She’s the reason I survived the lethal injection chamber and everything else.”

  It was far more complicated than that, but her mother was a simple woman who did not need to hear the technical jargon, just the truth.

  “I hate dat man.” Mrs. Dennison scowled her face. “God forgive me, you not suppose fe hate, but I hate dat man for what him did to you, us, and his own family.”

  ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜

  Sophia slowly nodded in agreement. Although she and her family had survived and recovered from events that took place almost ten years ago, the General’s actions shattered the Matheson legacy he tried so hard to build and protect along with his family. Alexis, after her final tour, left the army with no desire to deal with anything military again. Her relationship with her husband, who was still a Navy Seal, had not been the best because of it. Mrs. Matheson went into a deep depression rapidly increasing her Alzheimer’s. She passed away in her sleep a day before her birthday in 2010.

  The General also appealed his case for only four years and was executed via hanging at Leavenworth.

  She never attended his execution but, three months after the death of Mrs. Matheson, she went to see him. The warden, with full knowledge of who she was and what she was capable of, did not stop her visit. She remembered the General shuffling in with head bent and eyes to the floor. The once proud Marine General was a broken down terrified old man in her eyes that day.

  They sat there for almost five minutes not uttering a word to each other.

  She looked at him with evil thoughts running through her mind. He just looked at the floor.

  “Look at me.” Sophia grinded her teeth.

  He did not obey as he continued to look at the floor. Her voice made his body violently quake. He uttered a whimper shifting in his seat.

  “Look… at… me!” her voice boomed while her eyes blazed.

  A now teary eyed and sweat drenched Matheson raised his head gazing on the consequences for his actions.

  In Sophia’s glowing eyes that poured with tears, he saw rage, hatred, hurt, and sorrow. He saw his loss and his shame.

  “Was all of this… worth it?” her voice quivered, fighting the urge to tear him apart. “Was it?”

  “No,” he broke down. “It was not.”

  She stared at him for one more minute, making sure her image was burned into his final memories. She left not uttering another word, as he sobbed controllably at that table.

  ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜

  “Where is she now?” her mother asked.

  “With me now, before that she was staying with a friend in Washington,” Sophia sighed. “She didn’t know I was still alive until a couple of days ago. Not until an accident activated her abilities and she got stronger. I stayed away from her because I wanted her to have a normal life, and I didn’t tell you until now because if people found out who she was they would come looking for her, which would put you and everyone I know and love in danger.”

  “Okay,” Mrs. Dennison said, leaning back in her chair, “so what now?”

  “Aside from finally telling you the truth,” she shrugged, “I don’t know.”

  “Of the three of my children,” her mother began to speak, “you were always the most independent and intelligent. Not dat your brother and sister are stupid. But where Anthony and Gemma would give me a one word answer, you would go into detail and say, ‘Well, Mom, I think you should do dis and dat for dis reason.’ I use to call you Miss professor.”

  Sophia nodded as she waited to hear where he mother’s story went.

  “I pray daily for good things for all my children,” she continued, “but for you I knew I did not need to pray too hard, because you were destined for great things. My one fear is that your independence would keep you from looking to family for help.”

  Sophia, now annoyed, half rolled her eyes not liking where this story was going.

  “Mom,” Sophia sighed, “with all due respect, I had no choice in my decision. This was the General we’re talking about, an extremely powerful man with a lot of influence, and I highly doubt a prayer group session would have stopped him from taking my child from you. This wouldn’t have been some normal custody battle. This was a man with the power of the United States government in his back pocket, and who was creating death squads.”

  “Yeah, and normally you should be dead,” her mother let out.

  Her comment stunned Sophia. She waited for her to take what she had just said back.

  “Yeah, I said it,” she scoffed. “Wha you gonna tell me? A science save your life? You can say it if you want, but I know it was a praying mother and father bowing and scraping to the Lord every day and night that released...”

  “Oh Lord, another sermon!” Sophia threw up her hands. “I get it. God is good and hallelujer! Why are you even going there?”

  “Okay, you don’t want a sermon.” Her mother clasped her hands together placing them on the surface of the island. “Then tell me what you want me fe say.”

  “Nothing, Mom.” She leaned back in her seat huffing, “Nothing.”

  “Alright, you did what you did to protect her,” Ms. Dennison nodded, “I probably would have done de same ting. But what happen dese last seven years? Where was she?”

  “At the Armitages’,” Sophia lowered her head.

  “Tu rass.” Her mother shook her head. “All dis time? Why?”

  “I wanted her to have a chance at a normal life, Mom.” Her frustration came out again.

  “And we’re not normal?” her mother leaned back.

  “I’m not normal, Mom!” she snapped.

  “You betta shut ya mouth before me throw dis tea inna ya face!” Ms. Dennison barked back. “Ah, me give birth to you! What is not normal about you? Huh? You have de same head, same skin, same nose, five toes, four finger, and a thumb. What’s not normal about you? Because you’re taller, ya eyes have a glow? Because you can fly? So what? Enough of you is out dere flying, running, and breakin up tings! So don’t tell me about not being normal!”

  “You done?” Her eyes began to glow as she sneered at her. “Because, trust me, you can’t make me feel as bad as I already feel. You want me to say what I already know! I screwed up! I made a judgment call and it was wrong. There is nothing you can tell me that I have not already heard from my own little girl! I thought I was giving her a chance at something that was taken away from me, but the truth was I abandoned her and left her alone! So don’t think you can make me feel more shitty then I already am!”

  “Ya betta watch ya mout,” her mother warned her. “I am still ya mada!”

  “Yeah, you are,” she nodded, “and I apolo
gize for using that language around you. But don’t think you know anything about me anymore, what I’ve been through, or the weight I have to carry. In this world of humans and superhumans there is no one like me. No one has had to endure what I suffered and went through, no one. If I told you in detail what really happened to me… inside that mountain. What it felt like to be in the heart of a nuclear bomb! You would fold, crumble, and die.”

  Her body trembled as her eyes blazed brighter from the anger churning within her.

  “I keep myself busy, sometimes going nights without sleep,” she scowled, tapping the side of her head, “because I know the second I close my eyes, and I lose control I can relive everyone of those nightmares as if I was actually there. I’m surprised I haven’t gone mad yet. And I was afraid of subjecting my child to that. I didn’t think it was fair to do that to her, because she had been through enough! So forgive me, dear Mother, if I did not make the ‘right decision’ concerning you and my child. You didn’t have the opportunity to ‘teach me’ what to do in this type of scenario.”

  The kitchen became dead silent as sheer discomfort fell like a thick fog. She knew it would not be a pleasant conversation, but she was not expecting to be judged so harshly for her actions, especially from her mother. No one had the right in her mind, other than her daughter, to judge her for anything she did. She prepared herself to leave while contemplating when she would return.

  “Why ya decide ta build dat village?” her mother asked.

  Sophia turned to her mother with her eyebrows furrowed wondering where she was going with this line of questioning from left field.

  “I’m just curious,” Mrs. Dennison shrugged. “You raised dat island and built your house to get away from people. Yuh didn’t even have to raise an island, yuh could have went to de North pole, an…”

  She gave her mother a glare telegraphing to her that she was not in the joking mood anymore.

  “I’m just asking,” her mother said seriously. “After all you’ve been through, why create a village? You don’t owe anyone anyting, especially me, and you wanted to be left in peace. So, why create more headache for yourself? Why?”

  She shifted in her seat as she fought to find the words to answer her mother’s semi-innocent question.

  “I had too much wood,” Sophia huffed.

  She leaned forward clasping her hands as she stared off into space. Her mind took her back to the day she had finished her new home.

  “I finished the garage and backed Robert’s car into it,” her lips trembled, “and then I realized I bought too many supplies. So I decided to build a shed to store the leftovers. But as I started building, I just kept adding on, until I ran out again. And then I had to buy more supplies to finish it. Then next thing you know, I had built another house, but then I had more leftover supplies than I had before. I didn’t want to be wasteful. So I just kept building, trying to use everything out. But there was always too much wood, or too much cement, or too much varnish left. Before I realized it, I had built eight friggin’ houses.”

  A smile formed on her mother’s face as she bobbed her head.

  “Then I was, like, great.” Sophia threw up her arms. “What am I going to do with eight houses! Why didn’t I stop?”

  “Then something told you to fill them up,” her mother answered for her.

  “Yes,” she nodded.

  Tears fell from her eyes as she trembled like a leaf. Mrs. Dennison reached over and grasped her hand, rubbing it to comfort her.

  “You are right,” her mother whispered softly. “I will neva know or feel what you have gone through. None one will eva know. And, honestly, I don’t want to know because I’d probably go crazy if I did. Because when you hurt, I hurt, and I would go insane knowing how much pain you had to endure, and I was unable save or protect you from it. And that is what you will neva know, what it is to be a parent and powerless.”

  Sophia looked up to see her mother’s eyes glassed over as she held tightly onto her hand.

  “I gave birth to you,” her mother’s voice crackled. “I raised you, watched you grow. I came to Ursuline school and threatened Principal Moore that I’d run my minivan through her school and over dat big fat McGrady girl, the next time the teachers stood by and let her mess wit you. Not that you were a pushover, but you are my child.”

  The memory of the incident brought a smile back to her face.

  “And on October 15, 2004,” Mrs. Dennison fumbled her words as her tears fell, “I had to stand there and listen to Judge Kevin Coleman tell me that my child was guilty of a crime I know she did not commit and that he was going to kill her. And there was noting I could do about it.”

  The roles were reversed as Sophia now held her mother’s shaking hand as she began to shrink right in front of her.

  “I cursed God on that day, and I wished for that heart attack to kill me,” Mrs. Dennison said, “the second worst day of my life, and he would not let me die, guess what was the first?”

  She lifted her gaze to the ceiling as her eyes blazed from falling tears. Her leg twitched as she groaned imagining the ordeal her parents went through on that day.

  “September 1, 2008. I didn’t go to work the week before,” she continued. “I didn’t go to church, I didn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, didn’t answer de phone; I didn’t pray. I sat upstairs in you and Gemma’s bedroom watching the clock countdown to midnight… just numb. My tears fell, but I could not cry. Ya poopa downstairs started to bawl like a baby. Him cry so hard I don’t know why him neva had a stroke. I had to run downstairs and hold him and massage him to calm him down. And at 2 AM in the morning, your brother drove us to de airport so that we could make de journey to collect your body, only to find out when we got there, that you were very much alive, and broken out of prison.”

  She began to cackle, wiping her eyes as she leaned back.

  “May he be resting by God’s bosom,” she shook her head, “but I neva believed that foo foo story Mr. Armitage tried to sell me about you joining some terrorist organization. I knew something was up, so I thanked him for telling me, brought yuh poopa home, and I waited. And on September 8, 2008, the plan was revealed to me. The night before I saw you on CNN, this whole block was filled with police, FBI, you name it with them big guns, waiting for you. And when you shot into the air of Washington DC for all the world to see, I was de first to run outside yelling, screaming, and strutting up and down the block like I’d won the lotto! Every last one of them jackasses didn’t know what to do with themselves!”

  She nodded with pride while rubbing her daughter’s hand.

  “So you have to forgive me, my child,” her mother said earnestly, “if what you went through has not only restored my faith a trillion fold but has turned me into a powerful prayer warrior because, by the laws of man, and by logic and science, you were suppose to be dead, and I, your mother, was suppose to be forced to bury you.”

  It was an argument Sophia could not refute as she lowered her head. Mrs. Dennison leaned and raised her daughter’s head as she gazed into her eyes.

  “You tink anyting is new about you, or anyting that is going on?” Mrs. Dennison smiled. “God gave Samson strength to kill a lion, slay an entire army with only de jawbone of an ass, and destroy the temple of Dagon wit de Philistines inside of it. Him give Solomon great wisdom fe rule over de people of Israel, and my God sent Him only Son to walk on water, cast demons out of man, feed masses with a bit of fish and bread, and to die at the hands of man for the sins of the world only to raise again for the dead. Dat bwoy wit de hamma. What him name? Thunda god? Him have nothing on my Jesus Christ!”

  A slight smirk appeared on Sophia’s face from her mother’s humorous, yet serious, remarks.

  “And you can believe its science or whatever that saved you, but I know…” Mrs. Dennison paused as tears began to pour from her eyes again, “that my God is Who saved you from death, to show the world that He is God, and only He has power over life and death! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”


  Mrs. Dennison clutched the table weeping; Sophia wiped away the tears from her own eyes as she leaned over and gently rubbed her mother’s back.

  “And the thing all three of those heroes of the Lord have in common is that in their most weakest of moment dem called upon a Higher Power for help. Even the Son of Man Himself called for His Father,” her mother said through her sobs. “You are not an island! You cannot keep holding tings like these inside and dealing with them on your own, when you have a family and a God willing to share your pain and burden with you. Dat is what makes you normal! And then you just pop up out of nowhere and go ‘by the way, I’m going through dis and dat.’ Dat is unfair to us, and it is unfair to you! You ah doctor, and you nuh no stress kills? Family was created to ease stress and to carry each other’s burden to make the load lighter! Dat is why we are here!”

  She grasped her daughter’s hand, holding it up tightly, and kissed it.