14. Olly
FOURTEEN
OLLY
Stepping into Bob’s smallish apartment for our costume fittings was like stepping into a place where he didn’t just create costumes; he created dreams. Given the season, there were costumes all over the place on hangers, and I wanted to stop and eyeball all of them, but Clark kept me focussed and on task.
“Ah yes, I remember you well, Supes. I took your measurements, so it should fit perfectly. Just go behind that curtain over there to transform yourself. And you must be our darling Glinda. I hope you like what I’ve cooked up for you.
It’s not a copy of one of her Broadway outfits, but it’s something that I believe she would own and love.
Lots of pink mixed in with the white, and I made the tiara nice and high, and kept to the original design of her wand.
And your hair! It is perfection. Oh, get the sour look off your face, and get excited with me while I fetch your gown. ”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed at his enthusiasm and was wondering if Bob was just one of those people who can talk effortlessly with strangers, or if I was witnessing the effects of him not sleeping for a few days while sewing like mad.
He popped out with what else but a pink-and-white meringue of a dress, in a traditional ballroom shape but with poofy layers all over the place on the skirt to give it a whimsical, modern flair.
I wrestled my way into it with Bob’s help—this was no time for modesty—and it fit.
It actually fit! I side-eyed Clark in his perfect Superman outfit and cape, and me in my Glinda dress, and realized I’d never need to draw this again, because I’d take photos and have them for keeps.
As Bob was fitting my tiara in place, my nose led me to being struck with a realization: Bob was not human.
Good goddess, why do these things always happen to me?
I let out a little sigh and said, “So you made this gown just with some estimated measurements from my friend who works in an investment firm and knows nothing about women’s clothing? ”
Bob stopped and looked at me, really looked, making eye contact.
At that moment, we sort of tumbled into each other’s minds and reached an understanding.
He’d keep my psychic secret if I shut up about his...
otherworldliness. Mutually assured destruction seemed like a fine deal to me because he made this gown so perfect that I was going to be able to take it home with me tonight.
No alterations were needed. And that was when I realized what that bubbly undercurrent was in his apartment/shop: magic.
Real magic, and it was just pouring off Bob.
I sent him a message while I was getting fussed over about the skirt lying properly.
“I won’t ever reveal your secret, or tell anyone about your magic.
I swear on my life, your true nature is safe with me.
” I didn’t often come across other supernaturals in daily life, so this was comforting, actually, to feel his magic and my psychic energy mix and play off each other.
I giggled at the sensation, and Bob couldn’t keep a straight face either, when Clark asked him what was so funny.
“I’m sorry, mon cher, you wouldn’t get the joke,” Bob said, then he was suddenly all business again, removing the last pins on the dress and asking me to spin.
As I did, moon moths filled the air in the apartment, glowing even though it was day and they didn’t glow in nature, anyway.
So spin I did, amongst the beauty of the green moths until I felt dizzy and stopped to a chorus of applause from Bob and Clark.
We were so going to crush it on Thursday.
I blew kisses to the moon moths, and they retreated, fading back into whatever home they had.
“That was beautiful,” Clark said, his voice full of wonder.
Whoa. Had he seen the moths? They were like a subconscious psychic projection of mine, and should have been invisible to people with no powers.
I knew I had no choice, and I had to ask him about it.
I wasn’t supposed to be pulling Clark further into the paranormal that stalked me.
I was supposed to keep him on terra firma while I danced with moon moths in the afternoon.
“What was beautiful? The dress?” I asked, trying to sound innocent and not at all cagey.
“You, spinning and dancing with all of those fluorescent moths? Am I the only one here with eyes, or did you not see them? They were all over the place. It was pretty impossible to miss.”
Well, shit.
That night, I fell asleep far faster than usual, and who was waiting for me but my somber-looking brother, sitting on the dry sand and playing with a piece of beach grass, making it whistle by blowing on it.
He looked up as I approached, let the grass fall away, and stood.
He met me halfway and enveloped me in a huge embrace.
This was entirely abnormal for Thomas, who liked to keep his personal space to himself, but I had a feeling I was getting this hug because...
well, I wasn’t sure why. Was it because I’d had a seizure when seeing that drawing?
Or was it because something fundamental in my life was shifting, away from Thomas and Shepard, toward Clark and the possibility of keeping the baby?
I honestly had no idea, but if enough psychic power was rolling around tonight that I got to actually physically feel my brother’s arms around me, I was going to take full advantage and just relax into the familial embrace.
When he let me go, there were tears in his eyes. I gently punched his shoulder, and said sincerely, “It’s good to see you, Thomas. I’ve missed you. I know I’ve been preoccupied, but...”
“When haven’t you been?” Thomas half-joked back, raising his eyebrows.
“You know, this man in the cape, you’ve finally realized who he is, and I am so happy for you and your Bumblebee.
” He affectionately reached out and embraced my belly with both hands, while I hung on to his upper arms, not willing to break the physical connection yet.
“My what? Bumblebee...” I thought of the last bee I’d seen weeks ago in the conference room and remembered that the baby’s first movements were like a moth or something inside me, its wings fluttering against me.
I loved both the fact that I had a nickname given to the baby from its uncle, and that it was such an apt description.
“Thomas, I think a part of me, deep inside, wishes I could keep this kid. And every day I feel like that part gets bigger.”
Thomas’s mouth turned down, and he nodded his head a few times.
He then led us to a rock bench that had never been there before, and guided me to sit down next to him.
“I can tell this is ripping through your defenses,” he said.
“You do want the baby, but you’re scared.
I can see things, too, you know. I don’t need pictures to make that happen. ”
“And what do you see about this?” I asked, placing my hand and one of his back on my little baby bump.
“You, a partner, this baby, and perhaps some adopted girls, living a happy life together. After you’ve been torn apart, and only if you can find your own way back together.
That long life is still in the realm of possibility, not certainty.
Olly, The Organization is on the move. They see this like a giant chessboard, how to bring you, Clark, and the child all into the fold.
Clark is not as benign as he seems. There’s a deeper connection to The Organization there.
Something fundamental, but I’m just not sure what.
” He kicked a bit at the sand. “I do know that before you can have the long, happy life as a family, Clark will have to make some rather large decisions, stuff to do with The Organization. That’s what I’ve seen. ”
I started shaking my head immediately and turned to face Thomas.
“I will believe a lot of things, but not that Clark is willingly involved with them. I can’t believe that.
I can’t even bear to think it.” I thought about the few strange things that had happened around Clark, and tried to think of how I could verbalize it so Thomas would understand.
“Well, you better bear it, and think on it, because if he’s a regular Joe without any powers, why the fuck do they want him so badly?
Anyway, you cannot trust them, not for a moment.
They aren’t even above using Shepard against you.
They are responsible for not just our family’s suffering and Clark’s family suffering, but they are moving toward messing with forces they think they understand but in actuality cannot possibly comprehend.
” I thought of what Clark said he was working on at McGill.
The multiverse? Was that what this was about?
A feeling akin to horror overcame me as I thought of The Organization having any sort of control over something so much bigger and more powerful in ways they couldn’t comprehend.
And Clark was an astrophysicist who specifically had been trying to prove the multiverse was real, and that we could even access it.
The dangers that were being played with here were too many to count.
Psychic children being used as lab rats was just the beginning in their list of sins.
I put my hand over my belly and didn’t even try to stop the tears rolling down my face. How would I ever keep this child safe?
Thomas passed me a perfectly dried, round sand dollar.
I put it in my pocket and quietly said, “Thank you.” Thomas had that look in his eyes that was so prophetic it was scary, and said, “They are going to need you, and soon. That’s what I see.
The future, it’s just so...foggy these days.
Like you are enveloped in a fog, and a gigantic sea monster of some kind is targeting Clark as he tries to rescue you.
I don’t know what it all means. It’s too broken up, and too dependent on the choices you will make.
But Olly, I don’t see you having your freedom for too long.
” I sat there and let his revelations wash over me, the scent of wild roses and salt water making me close my eyes and just be at this moment.
There were times in the past when I used to wish I could just chuck it all and live here on this beach with Thomas forever.
It was a place of peace, of comfort, and of things lost that I could often find again.
Memories, mostly. But as I got older, I had come to see it almost as a prison.
I mean, Thomas never seemed stressed out about how much time was passing, or about events in the waking world that didn’t impact me or the people I cared about, but he wasn’t free to go anywhere else, I didn’t think.
I’d ask him about it one day soon, when I wasn’t piling all this Organization crap on him.
And now he thinks Clark is involved in something—a conspiracy? A secret plot?
“I’ll figure it out,” I said, and held his hand. “Clark, do you like him?”
“I’d like him more if I got a chance to meet him. I’ve been trying to find a way to visit him in his dreams, and then to pull his subconscious here, so he can visit you.”
“Wait, why would he need to visit me? Can’t I just talk to him in person? I don’t underst—”
I wake up with tears on my cheeks. Something big was happening, and I had no clue how to protect myself or those I loved.
The Organization’s goals were still a bit murky to me, but from the records I had seen, their methods to develop the technology to achieve what they wanted?
Those were everything from kidnapping, animal and human experimentation, murder, memory wiping, and imprisonment.
It was warm in my apartment, but I shuddered from the cold I felt creeping through me.
Who do you call in for illegal acts when your witnesses were dead and your story sounding more like poppycock every day?