Part Seven
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Max looked away from the file he held with a shaky hand. He was already aware of the attempted suicide and mental illness but her promiscuity, the extent of her self-harming, the drugs…they were all new pieces of information that, though sad, could all be explained away as the actions of a mentally ill woman but the age when all of this began…
He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at the thought.
Thirteen years old.
There had been no signs of mental illness before that, she was social, well-liked, popular, president of the science club. She had all the attributes of an overachiever until…she didn't. Until she was thirteen years old and he, Maxwell Evans: Son of Dianne and Phillip, brother of Isabelle, who was also thirteen years of age used his powers for the first time.
What was worse though was what was happening to her now. She had immediately been ordered to be put into solitary confinement and tranquilized after the incident. She had been wailing and screaming and her doctor, Dr. Culling, had thought it important to separate her from the population and give her time to calm down. She'd stayed there for a week and then was released only to be caught not taking her meds.
That led to another fight and another outburst and another stint in solitary confinement that, if these files were as up to date as they should be, she was still in. His heart cinched, his hand opened of its own volition and the papers fluttered to the floor without his notice.
"No," he said lowly, getting up and beginning to pace the length of his floor. He glanced at the clock, 6:32 A.M. and groaned. He had to be at school by eight and if he didn't try to get some sleep now, he wouldn't be able to rest until after three.
Max took a breath, made himself walk to the bed and lie down not even bothering with the covers. He wanted to stay up, think about what he had read, how it may or may not involve himself, how he might be able to try and help Liz but his eyelids were getting so heavy and it had been three days since he had sat down long enough to sleep.
-
Max's eyes opened and then closed again against the sun streaming into his room. He groaned and thought about getting up when Iz burst in. "You better get up. It's 7:30 and..." She looked over her shoulder before lowering her voice. "If you skip again they'll call mom and the shit will hit the fan."
He wanted to reply but she was already yelling, "he's up," down the stairs and was gone as quickly as she'd shown up.
He pulled himself into a seated position slowly, trying to work the crick out of his neck. He considered changing out of the clothes he'd had on last night and had fallen asleep in but the jeans and green t-shirt, though rumpled, would have to do. Otherwise, he was going to be late. He ran a brush through his hair quickly, rolled on some deodorant and sprayed on some cologne before running downstairs and grabbing a slightly burnt piece of toast to munch on during his drive.
"Bye mom," he said, not stopping to hear a reply or kiss her. He ran to his jeep, jumped into the driver's seat, stuck the key in the ignition, turned it and…nothing. He repeated the sequence once, then twice and when it still didn't start, jumped out of the car and wandered back into the house grouchily.
"Something's up with my car, it won't start." There was a slightly whiney quality to his tone that he didn't like but couldn't control.
Dianne looked over shoulder then at the clock, 7:50, before dropping what she was doing and grabbing her keys. "Come on, I'll drive you," she replied breathlessly moving out the door and towards her car.
"Iz do you…," she started yelling back into the house.
She shook her head without looking up. "A friend's coming to get me. Thanks anyway."
Dianne smiled and blew her kiss before hurrying Max to the car.
"Give me your keys and I'll have it checked out while you're at school."
He hopped in and clicked his seatbelt into place before handing them over.
"Thank you for the ride," he muttered sheepishly.
She started the car and they rode in silence. He loved his mother but at times like these, he never really knew what to say to her. Should he mention the school he hadn't really been going to recently or the job he just got fired from, or the patient who knew his deepest secret and thought he might be the alien she had been looking for for four years.
"How's school been going?"
School it was then.
"Alright I guess," he replied, trying to be casual.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Because I just got a call from them saying you haven't been showing up to class."
There was a charged moment of quiet between them when he opened his mouth to reply but she spoke over him. "I know you've been having a hard time lately and I'm willing to give you a few passes. You're a good kid and you've never caused me undue trouble but I just want to say, if there's anything you need to talk about I'm here."
"Mom…"
She put her hand up to quiet him. "That's all I'm saying. Well that and you better start making your way to school regularly again."
"Of course," he added, relieved that she was giving him some leeway. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and thought about telling her what was going on in his life, what was stopping him from going to class, what was making him bite his nails down to the quick but instead he questioned, "have you ever noticed anything weird about me?"
"What," she asked, glancing at him then looking back at the road.
He caught himself beginning to chew on his nail and stopped, bringing his hand to his lap. "Just anything strange while I was growing up."
She looked lost in thought before saying, "no, I don't think so."
"While I was a baby?"
She shook her head.
"While you were pregnant? Anything?"
She seemed like she was ready to say no again but stopped. She looked as though she suddenly remembered something long forgotten.
His heart kick started and he turned his whole upper body towards her.
"What? What is it?"
Then that look was gone. "Nothing. There was nothing strange."
"But you just looked…"
"Max, you and Iz were a great pregnancy and a fairly easy delivery. There was nothing noteworthy about it besides the two beautiful children I had at the end."
She pulled over and parked on the curb in front of the school, unbuckled her seat belt and turned to touch the side of his face gently. "What answer are you looking for? What's wrong?"
He took a deep breath and smiled softly, said, "nothing," as he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. He glanced at the clock, 8:15, before getting out of the car and making his way inside. He walked down the hall slowly and peeked into his first period civics class waiting until the teacher turned his back away before opening the door and trying to quietly make his way to the back of the room. He was just about to sit when Mr. Dennis turned toward him with a big smile.
"Mr. Maxwell Evans! It's good of you to finally show up on this glorious Friday morning how have you been?"
He froze in a half seated, half standing position and looked around with wide eyes, hating that he was currently the center of attention. "I've been…sick. But I'm better now."
"Sick huh," The older man asked, exaggerated sympathetic face in place. Mr. Dennis was in his early to mid 50's, balding and one of the few teachers who bothered to wear button downs and trousers every day.
He was also a major hard ass.
"…yes."
Awkward giggles began to sound around the room and he finally took the initiative to sit down.
"All better then?"
"Yes, thank you for asking."
"Good, cause you've got a week's detention. See me after class."
"What for," he asked before he could stop himself.
Attention switched back to him quickly in surprise, Max Evans never got detention and he definitely never spoke back.
Except now it appeared he got and did both of those things.
"Because you were late, and I'm adding a day onto that because I don't like your tone," he replied, taken aback by the usually quiet, put together and studious young man's outburst. Mr. Dennis took in his disheveled appearance, his suddenly erratic attendance and behavior and made a mental note to speak to the counselors about talking to him as soon as possible.
Just in case.
The requisite ooooooohhhhhhh's went up and Max apologized as he pushed his hair out of face, opened his book, and decided to keep his mouth shut.
-
"Iz…," he called don the hall only to be cut off.
"You've got detention, I know. I'll tell mom to swing by and pick you up later," she said breathlessly, throwing a few books into her bag and trotting down the hall to meet up with two girlfriends. He watched them disappear out the swinging doors.
He turned to go up the stairs to the second floor and ran directly into someone with long tan legs, a short skirt and a tight shirt topped by a cloud of blond hair.
He felt his chest knot up, it was Pam Troy.
Her books scattered across the floor and his first thought was to run as fast as possible in whatever direction could lead him the farthest away from her but she was already glancing up at him, giving the evil eye.
"Well are you going to help me or what?"
He sighed and knelt down gingerly, trying to smile. "How have you been?"
She didn't say anything for a second, just gathered up her things and stuffed them back into her bag stiffly. "Fine, you?"
"Pretty good I guess."
He had wanted to catch up with her for awhile and explain what happened after their date but then everything with Liz and his job came up and it just…slipped his mind. He let his eyes wander to her downturned face and decided to just go for it. "I wanted to tell you I was sor…"
She stood up quickly and put her hand out palm first, not even making eye contact. "Forget it. I'm not interested," before briskly making her way down the hall and out the same double doors Iz had disappeared through.
He started after her but it was already 3:15 and he didn't need to get in anymore trouble by being late so he decided to put it off until later. He glanced in her direction once more before slowly making his way to room 211 and loitering outside the door only to catch sight of Michael with his head on a desk.
He let out the breath he wasn't aware he was holding and walked in, sitting down next to his friend.
"What's up?"
He opened a sleepy eye and smiled. "I heard you got in trouble."
"Yeah, you and everyone else."
He raised his head up and rested it on the palm of his hand, eyes still half closed and looked Max over.
"You look awful."
"Right back at ya," he sighed and continued. "You should really get a new job."
"Well if there was anything else that paid as much I would go but there isn't so…" he shrugged, "I'll just keep working there then being late for school and getting detention until I graduate."
Max looked at his sleepy countenance and tried to keep the empathy he felt for his friend off of his face. Knowing Michael, he wouldn't appreciate it.
"So," he said after a moment. "Did you find anything in her files?"
Max hesitated for a moment. "Nothing important."
He nodded, looking relieved. "So will you please let it go now?"
Max sighed and glanced out the window, imagining what Liz must be feeling locked up, drugged up and tied down in that room…
Then he looked back at Michael.
Looked at him and lied.
-
"…so you should have it back by the end of the week."
Dianne Evans looked at her son with a confused smile when he didn't answer. "Did you hear me Max?"
He looked at her with blood shot eyes and a forced smile. "Yeah, thanks for taking care of that for me."
If he was half as perceptive as he normally was, Max would've noticed the thoughtful look that crossed her face but he didn't. He opened the door and moved to step out, already thinking of his bed, when she stopped him with a touch on his shoulder.
He turned back, "yes."
She opened her mouth, then closed it again with a smile. "Nothing. I'll be making chicken lasagna tonight. Is that good?"
"That's my favorite," he replied with a smile before he got out of the car.
-
Dianne watched her son walk inside and pulled the key out of the ignition, got out and made her way inside as well. She started toward the kitchen to start cooking when she thought better of it and made her way up to his room only to find him asleep laying horizontally across the foot of the bed. She touched his forehead, concerned about his mood changes, his sudden lack of interest in school, the constant nail biting.
She picked up his hands and grimaced at the mess of torn skin and bleeding cuticles before she laid it down beside him gently. Dianne considered shaking him awake and telling him what had happened that night, the night he was born, but he had been looking so tired and run down lately. She was happy to see him finally getting some rest. Dianne stood and went to the hall to grab a throw, laid it across and stared down at his prone body for a moment before making her way back downstairs.
No, she wouldn't tell him now, it wasn't important anyway.
-
He wandered downstairs four hours later to see his mom at the table, picking at the lasagna with a fork in one hand and holding a book she was reading with the other. She looked up and he smiled hello before going over to the counter and cutting a piece to bring to the table.
"Where's dad and Iz?"
"Work and out with friends," she marked her page and set the novel down. "It's just you and me tonight."
He nodded and went to sit down to start shoveling the food into his mouth. He tried to think of the last time he'd eaten and realized he couldn't remember. Max only noticed his mother agitated state when she reached out and put her hand on his and he looked up long enough to meet her eyes.
"Yes?"
"Are you on drugs," the words fell out of her mouth quickly. "I just want you to know that your father and I love you and if you're in trouble we'll do everything possible to try and help you but you have to be honest with me first."
He was so shocked he didn't have time to get upset as he said flatly. "I'm not on drugs."
"It's just that you've been acting so out of character since you left your job."
"I didn't leave, I was fired and for the second time. I. Am. Not. On. Drugs," he repeated in a sharp staccato.
She pulled her hand back and sat up straight, "I just wanted you to know that no matter what, we would be there for you."
He closed his eyes, feeling like an ass for talking to her that way before opening them again and saying quietly. "I didn't mean it that way mom, I'm sorry. I know you're just worried."
She smiled tightly, started picking at her food again and tried to change the subject. "Is it good?"
He nodded and started eating again.
He watched her sneak peeks at the side of his face before she worked up enough courage to say whatever she had on her mind.
"Max?"
He looked up.
"You know how you asked me if there was anything strange about you that I could remember?"
He nodded again, eyes wide and curious.
"Well, there's something's that happened that I had completely forgotten about."
"Like what," he asked, trying to be casual, trying not to spook her.
"I was about a week and a half overdue and your dad had to go on business trip. I wasn't supposed to be traveling but I drove to New Mexico to see your grandmother. I was so scared and I just…," she looked like she struggling to describe it but he didn't help, just waited.
" I needed someone."
"That's understandable," he responded, trying to spur her on.
"Two days later I had to leave. Your grandma tried to talk me into staying but I wouldn't hear it. I had to be with your father when I went into labor. She wanted me to get a plan ticket but I didn't want to leave my car and she couldn't come along because of her job so I set out on my own."
The further she got into the story the vaguer her eyes became. The more disconnected she seemed to the present.
"I remember I left really late so there wouldn't be as many people on the road and I could get back here faster but something happened."
"What," he asked breathlessly, unconsciously leaning forward in his seat.
She swallowed and looked at him, "there was… a light. Not a bright one, like a spotlight or anything, more like a reflection of something shiny and I lost my breath and…I don't know."
"What do you mean?"
She shook her head, "I don't know what happened but I woke up on my back on the shoulder of the road with a lady kneeling over me. My contractions were coming fast and she drove me to the hospital. The weird thing is that when I was getting in her car the clock said it after 2 A.M but I remember right before I passed out that it was around 11. One of my favorite DJ's was on and he always came on at 11."
She ran her hand through her hair. "I was out for 3 hours."
He couldn't think about the other things she revealed tonight so he latched onto something easy. "Did the woman take you out of the car?"
She thought before she shook her head. "She said she found me there. I don't know when or why I got out."
Dianne laughed suddenly and leaned on her elbow. "There were other interesting things too. When you two were little, we had locks on the fridge and on the cabinets and oven but they would never keep you out of things. Locks on the doors too, the bedrooms, the bathrooms…we could never keep you out. At first we thought it was something we were doing wrong but Isabelle couldn't open them and neither could we when we tested them but you always could."
He felt sick but his mother was on a roll and would not be stopped.
"Once, when you were around 3, we found you outside walking down the middle of the road and it was like you were in a trance. We thought maybe you were a sleep walker but it never happened again."
She licked her lips. "I'm sorry I said nothing happened when you asked earlier but I honestly hadn't thought of those things in years and I never even told anyone about passing out in the car."
"Why," he asked in a monotone.
She shook her head, as confused as he was. "Something in me just said not to and then after awhile I just kind of…forgot."
She looked back at him, sitting across from her with shiny eyes. "Why are you crying? What does this mean?"
He smiled absently, more afraid and bewildered than he'd ever been in his life, before he whispered, "I don't know."
