Approached
October 15th 2006 14:24
Approached
Tuesday 7 April 2054, 17:10
Kitchen of Marie McComber, McComber Farmhouse
Outside of Harville Iowa
Marie McComber’s head still was in a bit of a fog long after General Kinomoto’s limousine had left the McComber Estate. She read, and re-read the video mail that she had just received from Lieutenant Harker, informing her that Roscoe McComber was being successfully transported to the East Coast Space elevator. She had said nothing to Charlie when they spoke outside earlier, other than letting him know that their guest might be able to help out his father. Charlie had seemed uninterested, and so she waited until suppertime to approach him with the General’s offer.
At a certain point, she began dinner, and puttered around her spacious kitchen. Like Charlie, Marie was a devout vegan, and she began making the evening meal by dicing no less than six pounds of tofu, drizzling it with peanut oil and marinade and letting it soak in. She then began to slice about ten pounds of produce, mostly carrots, peppers, onion and celery. About half way through she called out to the house’s computer.
“Computer, call Charlie.”
Within about four seconds, she heard her son’s voice.
“Ma?” He asked.
“I’m working on supper, boy. Go grab me some tomatoes.”
“You got it, ma.”
Inside of twenty minutes, Charlie came up through the back door, and opened it. As he was about to step his dirty bare feet inside she called out the kitchen window, “wash up, young man.”
She heard the customary teenage grumbling, followed by the hose. From the house’s external camera, she watched him watch his hands and feet, and then the tomatoes. He knew, from his experience as a child that mom could tell these things, but never quite made the connection that she monitored him quite that closely. Once clean, he came in.
“Excellent, these are beauties, I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving!” He cried, as if he had not been fed in over a week.
“Uh-huh, you’re always hungry,” she poked at him. “You eat enough for an Army.”
“No way. I’m a growing boy.”
“Yeah, growing out of the house.”
“Well there’s always the barn.”
“Like you don’t spend enough time out there anyway. I’ve always liked the pitter patter of little feet,” she looked at him and decided to needle him further, “maybe I’ll have another baby.”
Charlie’s eyes grew wide, “you’re preggers?”
Marie threw her head back and laughed a long, uproarious laugh. Charlie did not find this amusing.
“Now I know you’re joshing me.” He declared.
Marie wryly smiled at him, and quick as a cat, dropped her cleaver, she stuck her fingers against his ribcage and began to tickle.
“Hey!” He shrieked.
Marie backed him against the corner and with her quick fingers, ran from his armpits to his waist. Despite being a foot taller than she was, Charlie was at his mercy. Only when he started gasping for air did she back off.
“Gee you’re in a good mood,” he said.
“Wouldn’t you be if you knew that your husband’s life was going to be saved?”
Charlie’s mouth went slack-jawed.
“Dad? He’s going to be okay? What about is heart?”
“Just fine. Our government’s gonna take care of him, like they always do.”
Charlie’s face turned from surprise and happiness to one of puzzlement.
“Because of you, Charlie,” She said.
“What?” He mouthed the word.
She held out for him the sheeted document that the General had asked her to read and sign. His eyes got wide and he tried to scan it quickly, but she interrupted his reading.
“Basically it says that just by my talking to you right now, your dad has a chance to get a new heart, Charlie. The government wants to make you an offer, and I said I’d pass it along. They said, just by talking you to, as a sign of good faith, they’re gonna start the cardiac cloning process.”
He blinked at her, trying to digest what was happening.
“Charlie, the government wants you to come work for them.”
“I’m fourteen, I can’t work for anybody,” Charlie declared.
“You can if I say you can. You can go before a judge.”
“Huh?”
“It’s called emancipation. If you can prove yourself responsible as an adult, I’ll help you become one.”
Charlie looked confused. Just the other day she had lectured him about how irresponsible he was. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.
“Charlie, it’s time you stepped up to the plate. Time you became a credit to your country. You’ve had it pretty easy here. Dad and I have made sure that you’ve had your privacy, and the government has stepped in, Charlie. They have given your dad a new lease on life.”
Charlie swallowed.
“Our government takes care of its’ citizens, son. Your dad and I will end up working for them, with a good retirement for the rest of our days.” Her voice was smooth, even, like a sales hawker.
Charlie fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.
“So, um. What do I do.”
“Not much. Pick a service, enter into training. You’ll become elite, Charlie. A hero.”
Charlie’s eyes got wide.
“You mean like on the vidnews?”
She smiled at him.
“Yes, Charlie, just like on the vidnews.”
He muddled this over for a bit. “You mean G-teams? Right? The Government wants me for that? But I’m a kid. A nobody.”
“Charlie,” she said quietly, “you’ve never been a nobody to me. You’ve always been my little boy, and I’ve always loved you. It’s just now there are people that are seeing you the way I see you, as someone special.”
Charlie bit his lips and thought for a few moments. He watched as she took a spatula and mixed up the tofu again, and then slid it into the over, scant inches underneath the broiler. Soon, the sharp, spicy odor of the marinade being baked into the tofu rolled into his senses. He smiled at the smell.
“Good stuff, ma.”
She nodded, “I’m starving myself. That chat with the General has me drained.”
“That’s who that was?”
“Yes. General Jean-Paul Kinomoto of the Gteams Heartland Division. He told me that if you had any questions you could vidmail his adjunct, a Lieutenant Harker. The contact information is in the main house address book on the common folder.”
Charlie nodded.
“I don’t know if you want to send them a vid or not, but it might be something to do, to try and introduce yourself. You’ve got to look at this like a job interview, Charlie, a very important one. These people saved your dad’s life. Otherwise, he’d be a goner.”
The enormity of those words struck Charlie like a ton of bricks. What did it matter, if they wanted to give him and his parents a job, so long as they saved his dad? Not much, as far as he was concerned.
He began to get the plates out, a large ceramic serving dish for himself and a small bowl for his mother. As the tofu began to crust over, Marine pulled out a house stainless-steel cooking wok and tossed the myriad of vegetables on there. They began to work fluidly, as a team, she moved back just enough for him to get the door of the oven open, the crispy tofu chunks sizzled to a perfect brown. He pulled them out with a hand-knitted potholder and then deftly took a spatula and served up the tofu on the platters.
She worked the wok briskly over the propane stove, shaking its’ long wooden handle to flip the vegetables over and over. Once they began to sizzle, and the onions began to caramelize, she began to add some additional powdered herbs and spices from her garden.
Charlie already had the tomatoes diced and ready. He stood beside her with the cutting board, and waited patiently for the other vegetables to finish. Charlie was a better assistant than cook himself, for he did not quite understand the finesse’ and timing issues it took to deliver a good meal, but he could cut, and dice and things of that nature.
When the scent of the stir-fried vegetables was nearly overwhelming to his senses, she pulled it off the fire and dropped it over the still-sizzling cubed tofu. The smell was heavenly and then Charlie dropped his load of diced tomatoes, and she went the further step of gracing each dish with parsley and cilantro.
“Oh man, mom, this is the good eats, I’m telling you,” Charlie declared.
She chuckled as they carried their respective plates to the dining table, and she instructed the computer to turn off the wall video monitor and play some quiet music while they ate. With Charlie’s father hospitalized for the last three years, they had developed a powerful bond.
“So um, ma, you think I should do this?” He asked.
“I think you should sleep on it, as your pa and I have always taught you. Always sleep on an important decision. I can tell you, though, it’s a big deal. I know you want to go to college, and you know the military always pays for schooling.”
Charlie nodded.
“It probably wouldn’t just be vidschool, either, but a real live university. I know, you’re getting bigger all the time, but some day, Charlie, you’re going to have to leave that barn of yours.”
Charlie ate quietly and then replied:
“Mom, do you think I got what it takes though? These people them heroes, they save lives. They go charging into burning buildings and stuff like that. I’m just a kid.”
“Just the other day you were helping the neighbor fix his tractor, Charlie.”
“Well he jus broke down, there in the middle of the road. No jack or nothing. What was I supposed to do, leave him there?”
“That’s my point, son. In some ways, you’re already a hero, but this will let you work on a bigger scale, with training, and knowledge. You can become a credit to your country. What if, Charlie, somewhere, there’s another kid out there who has your mutation?”
Charlie thought for a moment. He had done a lot of research about his mutation, Homo Mutatus var Strongaria. He vidmailed people, belonged on email groups and read newsfeeds. He subscribed to many different e-zines that dealt with the strongarian mutation and was starting to learn a bit about mutant politics.
“There are a few hundred of us in the states,” Charlie replied.
“You see? Maybe you’ll meet others like you, in the military.”
Charlie cocked his eyebrow. The only other mutants with the strongarian mutation that he knew of were either professional mutant sportsters or villains. He knew of no strongarian heroes. He might be the first, and that thought helped him a great deal, it made him feel special, to be the first.
“Well I don’t know, about that, mom, but I tell you, I’m gonna vidmail that Harker guy.”
“Take a shower first, comb your hair, wear a good shirt.” She said.
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Yes ma’am.” He muttered. Hero or not, he imagined he’d always be her little boy.
Tuesday 7 April 2054, 17:10
Kitchen of Marie McComber, McComber Farmhouse
Outside of Harville Iowa
Marie McComber’s head still was in a bit of a fog long after General Kinomoto’s limousine had left the McComber Estate. She read, and re-read the video mail that she had just received from Lieutenant Harker, informing her that Roscoe McComber was being successfully transported to the East Coast Space elevator. She had said nothing to Charlie when they spoke outside earlier, other than letting him know that their guest might be able to help out his father. Charlie had seemed uninterested, and so she waited until suppertime to approach him with the General’s offer.
“Computer, call Charlie.”
Within about four seconds, she heard her son’s voice.
“Ma?” He asked.
“I’m working on supper, boy. Go grab me some tomatoes.”
“You got it, ma.”
Inside of twenty minutes, Charlie came up through the back door, and opened it. As he was about to step his dirty bare feet inside she called out the kitchen window, “wash up, young man.”
She heard the customary teenage grumbling, followed by the hose. From the house’s external camera, she watched him watch his hands and feet, and then the tomatoes. He knew, from his experience as a child that mom could tell these things, but never quite made the connection that she monitored him quite that closely. Once clean, he came in.
“Starving!” He cried, as if he had not been fed in over a week.
“Uh-huh, you’re always hungry,” she poked at him. “You eat enough for an Army.”
“No way. I’m a growing boy.”
“Yeah, growing out of the house.”
“Well there’s always the barn.”
“Like you don’t spend enough time out there anyway. I’ve always liked the pitter patter of little feet,” she looked at him and decided to needle him further, “maybe I’ll have another baby.”
Charlie’s eyes grew wide, “you’re preggers?”
Marie threw her head back and laughed a long, uproarious laugh. Charlie did not find this amusing.
“Now I know you’re joshing me.” He declared.
Marie wryly smiled at him, and quick as a cat, dropped her cleaver, she stuck her fingers against his ribcage and began to tickle.
“Hey!” He shrieked.
Marie backed him against the corner and with her quick fingers, ran from his armpits to his waist. Despite being a foot taller than she was, Charlie was at his mercy. Only when he started gasping for air did she back off.
“Gee you’re in a good mood,” he said.
“Wouldn’t you be if you knew that your husband’s life was going to be saved?”
Charlie’s mouth went slack-jawed.
“Dad? He’s going to be okay? What about is heart?”
“Just fine. Our government’s gonna take care of him, like they always do.”
Charlie’s face turned from surprise and happiness to one of puzzlement.
“Because of you, Charlie,” She said.
“What?” He mouthed the word.
She held out for him the sheeted document that the General had asked her to read and sign. His eyes got wide and he tried to scan it quickly, but she interrupted his reading.
“Basically it says that just by my talking to you right now, your dad has a chance to get a new heart, Charlie. The government wants to make you an offer, and I said I’d pass it along. They said, just by talking you to, as a sign of good faith, they’re gonna start the cardiac cloning process.”
He blinked at her, trying to digest what was happening.
“Charlie, the government wants you to come work for them.”
“I’m fourteen, I can’t work for anybody,” Charlie declared.
“You can if I say you can. You can go before a judge.”
“Huh?”
“It’s called emancipation. If you can prove yourself responsible as an adult, I’ll help you become one.”
Charlie looked confused. Just the other day she had lectured him about how irresponsible he was. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.
“Charlie, it’s time you stepped up to the plate. Time you became a credit to your country. You’ve had it pretty easy here. Dad and I have made sure that you’ve had your privacy, and the government has stepped in, Charlie. They have given your dad a new lease on life.”
Charlie swallowed.
“Our government takes care of its’ citizens, son. Your dad and I will end up working for them, with a good retirement for the rest of our days.” Her voice was smooth, even, like a sales hawker.
Charlie fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.
“So, um. What do I do.”
“Not much. Pick a service, enter into training. You’ll become elite, Charlie. A hero.”
Charlie’s eyes got wide.
“You mean like on the vidnews?”
She smiled at him.
“Yes, Charlie, just like on the vidnews.”
He muddled this over for a bit. “You mean G-teams? Right? The Government wants me for that? But I’m a kid. A nobody.”
“Charlie,” she said quietly, “you’ve never been a nobody to me. You’ve always been my little boy, and I’ve always loved you. It’s just now there are people that are seeing you the way I see you, as someone special.”
Charlie bit his lips and thought for a few moments. He watched as she took a spatula and mixed up the tofu again, and then slid it into the over, scant inches underneath the broiler. Soon, the sharp, spicy odor of the marinade being baked into the tofu rolled into his senses. He smiled at the smell.
“Good stuff, ma.”
She nodded, “I’m starving myself. That chat with the General has me drained.”
“That’s who that was?”
“Yes. General Jean-Paul Kinomoto of the Gteams Heartland Division. He told me that if you had any questions you could vidmail his adjunct, a Lieutenant Harker. The contact information is in the main house address book on the common folder.”
Charlie nodded.
“I don’t know if you want to send them a vid or not, but it might be something to do, to try and introduce yourself. You’ve got to look at this like a job interview, Charlie, a very important one. These people saved your dad’s life. Otherwise, he’d be a goner.”
The enormity of those words struck Charlie like a ton of bricks. What did it matter, if they wanted to give him and his parents a job, so long as they saved his dad? Not much, as far as he was concerned.
He began to get the plates out, a large ceramic serving dish for himself and a small bowl for his mother. As the tofu began to crust over, Marine pulled out a house stainless-steel cooking wok and tossed the myriad of vegetables on there. They began to work fluidly, as a team, she moved back just enough for him to get the door of the oven open, the crispy tofu chunks sizzled to a perfect brown. He pulled them out with a hand-knitted potholder and then deftly took a spatula and served up the tofu on the platters.
She worked the wok briskly over the propane stove, shaking its’ long wooden handle to flip the vegetables over and over. Once they began to sizzle, and the onions began to caramelize, she began to add some additional powdered herbs and spices from her garden.
Charlie already had the tomatoes diced and ready. He stood beside her with the cutting board, and waited patiently for the other vegetables to finish. Charlie was a better assistant than cook himself, for he did not quite understand the finesse’ and timing issues it took to deliver a good meal, but he could cut, and dice and things of that nature.
When the scent of the stir-fried vegetables was nearly overwhelming to his senses, she pulled it off the fire and dropped it over the still-sizzling cubed tofu. The smell was heavenly and then Charlie dropped his load of diced tomatoes, and she went the further step of gracing each dish with parsley and cilantro.
“Oh man, mom, this is the good eats, I’m telling you,” Charlie declared.
She chuckled as they carried their respective plates to the dining table, and she instructed the computer to turn off the wall video monitor and play some quiet music while they ate. With Charlie’s father hospitalized for the last three years, they had developed a powerful bond.
“So um, ma, you think I should do this?” He asked.
“I think you should sleep on it, as your pa and I have always taught you. Always sleep on an important decision. I can tell you, though, it’s a big deal. I know you want to go to college, and you know the military always pays for schooling.”
Charlie nodded.
“It probably wouldn’t just be vidschool, either, but a real live university. I know, you’re getting bigger all the time, but some day, Charlie, you’re going to have to leave that barn of yours.”
Charlie ate quietly and then replied:
“Mom, do you think I got what it takes though? These people them heroes, they save lives. They go charging into burning buildings and stuff like that. I’m just a kid.”
“Just the other day you were helping the neighbor fix his tractor, Charlie.”
“Well he jus broke down, there in the middle of the road. No jack or nothing. What was I supposed to do, leave him there?”
“That’s my point, son. In some ways, you’re already a hero, but this will let you work on a bigger scale, with training, and knowledge. You can become a credit to your country. What if, Charlie, somewhere, there’s another kid out there who has your mutation?”
Charlie thought for a moment. He had done a lot of research about his mutation, Homo Mutatus var Strongaria. He vidmailed people, belonged on email groups and read newsfeeds. He subscribed to many different e-zines that dealt with the strongarian mutation and was starting to learn a bit about mutant politics.
“There are a few hundred of us in the states,” Charlie replied.
“You see? Maybe you’ll meet others like you, in the military.”
Charlie cocked his eyebrow. The only other mutants with the strongarian mutation that he knew of were either professional mutant sportsters or villains. He knew of no strongarian heroes. He might be the first, and that thought helped him a great deal, it made him feel special, to be the first.
“Well I don’t know, about that, mom, but I tell you, I’m gonna vidmail that Harker guy.”
“Take a shower first, comb your hair, wear a good shirt.” She said.
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Yes ma’am.” He muttered. Hero or not, he imagined he’d always be her little boy.
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