#bonuschapter

Chapter 10

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Madeline

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At just three years old, little Madeline is the youngest and smallest member of the X-Men. After finding her all by herself at the local playground when she was no older than a year, she has been nothing but a light in our lives. When I took her back to the mansion, Hank had discovered two things during her medical examination: she was a mutant born, and she was the long-lost little sister of Scott Summers (Cyclops). 

The revolution of how Madeline could be Scott's younger sister came in the form of a breaking news bulletin. The bulletin stated that there had been a car accident caused by a drunk driver and while the baby survived, the woman, whose name was Hattie, did not. It turned out that Hattie was the surrogate for Scott’s family before their death. When she found out about their passing, Hattie made the selfless decision to raise Madeline as her own. Months of court proceedings passed and soon Madeline legally became a part of our family after the judge decided to not separate the brother and sister. 

So far, she has not yet displayed any powers despite her being born with the X-gene, but, all we can do is wait until she gets a little older and see for ourselves if they will emerge or not. For now, Madeline is like any other three-year-old girl with a big heart, a vivid imagination, and a free spirit of her own. 

-

file: therapeutic debriefing 

subfile: Madeline Summers 

code name: Maddie

password: joy 

-

I didn’ even no dat dis happened t’me, but, Scott told me this ‘tory a whole week ago an I figured Cerwebwo wanted t’hear it. 

Is da 'torie 'f how I said my fiwst word! 

I don’ wemembew how it happened but Scott told me dat it tarded b’fore Jub’lee came to live wif us and I was still a baby. I was only one finger old. 

Dat day, I was playin’ hide and seek wif Logan in the TV woom, or, was it peekie boo? An’way, when Scott found Logan an I playin’, he gotted em-em-embawesed… did I say it wigh' Beastie?…OK, good. 

When Scott saw us, he said that we needed t’go clothes shopping wif Orowo an Woge at da mall.

Logan said, "Shoppin' in the city, with the girls? You gotta be kiddin' me. Can't you go with 'em? Or Jean?"

"Jean is with the professor at his book club meeting," Scott tol' 'im, "and Gambit an I are gonna be here cleaning the mansion up. It's due for a deep clean. Oh, and one more thing. Take Madeline with you."

Logan looked at me an Scott said dat all I did was smile at Logan back.

He sighed and tolded Scott, "Alright, fine. But, if she makes a mess on 'erself again, yer on clean-up duty."

Den, Logan scooped me up like an ice cweam scoop an we were drivin' off to the mall wif Woge an Orowo. Now, Gamb't tol me one time dat giwls love ta do one fing an dat one fing takes ferever to do; shoppin'. 

Woge an Orowo were takin ferever twyin' on all differen' outfits like shiwts, dwesses, shoes, evewyfing! 

On da oder hand, Logan an I were walkin' awound da mall so we wouldn' hafta stand up da whole time. By walkin', I mean dat I was in da droller an Logan was pushin' me wound in it. 

Logan said dat I wasn't inter...uh...Beastie, how do you say dis word again?...interesssted...OK, got it! Fank you, Beastie. I wasn't vewy in-ter-wested in anyfing in da stores, until I saw... it. 

Da big it! 

It was in da toy dtore window smack dab in da front! 

It was da biggest, softestest, bestest teddy beawr I ever saw! It had fuzzy bonz bown fur, a big bwack nose, an it was perfe't fow huggin'! 

I could only say a few words at dat time, but, I cowldn' say full sentenses yet, so, all I cowld do to Logan was babble.

Babblin' means sayin' words dat nobody under'tands. 

I babbled an waved my hands 'wound, but, all Logan said to me was, "yeah, yer starvin' too? How about I grab ya some pretzels?"

But, I didn' wan' pwetzels, I wanted dat beawr! 

I kept twyin' ta talk to 'im to get 'im ta buy me dat beawr, but, he didn't listen to me. 

"I know kid, I know," said Logan, "I'll get ya some food now."

Soon, Logan an I were at da food cowt sittin' down eatin' pwetzels an drinkin' dwinks'. Logan had soda pop while I had chocowate milk. I wobe dat 'tuff. 

I kep' wookin' back at da toy dtore an da beawr was 'till in da window. I weally WEALLY wan'ed dat bewar an I didn' give up. 

I twied a'gain, but, when I twied talkin' again, all I did was babble an Logan 'till didn' understan' me. 

"Dadidididi... egooooooo... mabaga... meebaagoo," I kep' on sayin.

"Yeah, I see ya kid," Logan said, boopin' me on da nose.

I kep' on pointing at da toy dtore, but, Logan kept on eatin' an feedin' me. How hard was it ta get Logan ta bye me dat beawr? 

Ugh!

While acceptin' my defeet, as Mowph kept sayin', Logan an I heawd a cwash comin' fom da toy dtore down da hall. When we was turnin' wound, we saw a buncha wobbers bweakin fings 'pawrt an 'tealin 'tuff, puttin' dem in big bags. 

"Well kid," said Logan, "looks like we got ourselves a fight to stop." 

Logan put me back in da droller an we speeded off to da toy dtore. Now, if dis didn' get Logan ta get me dat beawr, den nofin' else will. 

I tell ya, when I was in my droller, Logan was like-

Bam!

Pow!

Smack!

He took out his cwaws an everyfing! He wooked so cool! An even when da oder guys were shootin' at 'im wif guns, Logan got back up again! 

I heawd a clickin' noise, an one of the guys pointed da gun at Logan fom behind 'im. The guy said, "You leave and leave us to do our job and we'll ease up on the shooting. Wouldn't wanna scare the kids now, do we?" 

I saw a piece of da guy's haiwr an puwled it, hawd!

Da guy 'creamed loudly whiwle I was pullin' his haiwr. Den, I got oudda da droller an tarted da wide 'im like a howrsy, 'till howldin' on tight! When I was widin' on da guy's back, Logan was able ta take cawe of da oder guy. Den, I gwabed a bat and 'tarted spakin' 'im on his head. 

Den, Logan gwabed 'im by da neck an wrestl'd 'im wike an allagader. Da guy couldn 'top wigglin' 'wound, but Logan got 'im ta shut his twap. I woawed at 'im likea dinosawr. 

"She ain't scared of ya, y'know," said Logan, "looks like you and yer little pal got some time to serve."

Afder da powice shown up an took da guys away, da owner of da toy dtore couldn' 'top fankin' us for savin' da pwace. She also said dat 'cause of Logan's bwaferrie, he got ta pick out anyfing he wanted. 

I saw da beawr on da fwoor an pick-ed it up.

“Baaaaa!” I said. 

When Logan saw me wif da beawr, he finally figered out what I wanted! 

Logan smiled at me an asked da lady, “How much for the bear?”

Well, when we got back to da store Woge an Orowo were in, I was finally happy b'cawese dis was my first ‘tuffed animel I ever had in my life. 

I plawed wif it while at da mall, in da cawr wide home, an on da cowch wif Logan in da TV woom. 

"You've been tryin' to tell me that you wanted that bear al along, were you?" Logan askeded me. 

"Yah," I said back, huggin' da beawr. 

"Well, thanks for the assist back their kid," said Logan, puttin' me on his wap, "I couldn't do this on my own. Those goons better watch their backs because no one's gonna come between you and me, the Wolverine."

I huggeded Logan tight wif da beawr wif me. Den, it happen'd. 

"Wo... Wol-W... Wool-Wool... Wolva... WWWWolverwine!" 

Logan didn' say anyfing at fiwst. Den, I saided again, "Wolverwine!" 

"Did you just say-?"

"Wolverwine! Wolverwine! Wolverwine!" I kep' on sayin'. 

Logan saided happiwy, "Way to go kid. I knew y'had it in you." 

"Wolverwine!"

An dat was the fiwst word I ever said. 

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THE END.

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Well everyone, here is the bonus chapter of the book "The Xavier Files" featuring my X-Men OC, Madeline. 

I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

Read, Review, and No Hateful Comments, please. 

I stare at my face in the weird metal mirror above the stainless steel handbasin. I’m used to seeing my face in metal now. I probably wouldn’t recognise myself in glass anymore. My hair has grown long. It is pale brown and straggly and I wear it in plaits every day to stop it knotting together but I haven’t cut it short because there’s still a bit of the washed-out lime green on the ends that was on it when I was taken into custody. They are the same ends I had when you and I were together. The same ends you once touched.

I had a tan when I first got here; a month on a boat, nothing to do but sunbathe, but now I'm back to my usual shade of Philadelphia. I’m allowed cosmetics, but I don't bother. My friend Brooke lent me some of her mascara, but I can barely remember how to use it. It keeps clumping together.

I give up on the makeup and rub off what I can with a damp tissue. I look at my face again. I look older. It’s been nearly two years since I last saw you, but I think I have aged about five years in that time. You’ll probably be a bit shocked. I’ll see it in your eyes. It’ll look like a cloud as it passes. But that’s OK. You don't spend two years in prison without it showing on your face, on your body, in your smile.

No doubt you will have changed too. I will have to prepare myself for that. In my head I have two pictures of you; the first is the way you looked that night at the Christmas disco, in that cute top with the hearts on it, looking up at me with your eyeliner wings from inside my fake fur. The second is harder to think of, but I make myself think of it often, I jam it into my head and force myself to look at it. I think of you being lifted from the boat we’d imprisoned you on, looking like a tiny toy dangling in the air in the arms of the soldier who rescued you. You’d lost all the colour that made you Tallulah, like a faded photograph. And you looked at me with hate. I might have imagined that, but I don't think I did. I called out that I loved you and you stared down at me with dead, empty eyes and I knew that you would never want to see me again. I knew it was finished.

But now you want to see me. I don't know why you want to see me, but you do.  

In the metal mirror, my metal face with the black-smudged eyes looks terrified.

I’m led through the familiar lefts and rights of the route to the visitors’ lounge. I have many visitors. I have my father, who comes once a month; having his entire family in prison has really put the kibosh on his gallivanting ways. He does all three of us; me, my brother, my mother, in one dizzying, whistle stop tour. My brother is coming out soon. He got two years for aiding and abetting a kidnapping. I got six years for manslaughter but was acquitted of the kidnap charges because of my mother drugging me and lying to me. My mother got ten years. She tried to sell the jurors the idea that she'd acted out of love. Which she did, of course. Nobody’s saying my mother is a psychopath. If she didn't love me, she wouldn't have done the things she'd done to keep me out of jail. But we both know, Tallulah, we know that the longer it went on, the more she was addicted to the control. We know she lost the plot. We know she was going to kill you. We know that. And by the end, she'd forgotten why she'd started doing it in the first place.

I also have visits from Roo and Jayden and Rocky. But not from Mimi. Mimi hates me. It’s fair enough.

Liam came to see me once. The less said about that the better. One day maybe I’ll tell you the truth about Liam, about what he did and how he set me up. But not now. I’m living with it for now because frankly, I think I deserve every single shitty thing that’s happened to me and it’s a bit late now for playing the blame game. If there’s any justice in this world, Liam Bailey will get his punishment one day. But I'm not going to be the one to mete it out. For now it was enough for me to notice that he's already started to lose his hair, and he's only twenty three.

The warden unlocks the last of the doors before the one that takes me to the room where I will see you. She has thick black hair tied back into a bun. Her name is Shelli. I don't mind her. She likes dogs and we watch dog videos together on her phone.

I pull in my breath. I pull in my stomach muscles. I clench and unclench my hands.

The door unlocks and Shelli ushers me through it. And you are there. There.

You look at me and I see the thing I was expecting to see; the flash of disgust, or horror, or disappointment – whatever. The bad thing.

‘Hi.’

You speak first. Already I know that you’re different. Completely different.

‘Hi.’

Your hair has streaks in it, coppery and exciting. You’re wearing black dungarees and yellow converse and hoop earrings. You look like a trendy young mum, like you should be pushing a Bugaboo around a park in Stoke Newington. You look like an adult.

‘You look amazing,’ I say, hoping I don't sound creepy.

‘Yeah,’ you wave your hand across yourself. ‘Well, not really, but thank you.’

I pull out a seat and then we sit face to face across a wooden table. I can see now that you are wearing makeup; eyeliner wings and blush-coloured lip balm and mascara. I don't know how to feel about the fact that you've made yourself look pretty for me. What does it mean? Maybe you wear this makeup every day now, along with your hoop earring and your adorable dungarees. Or maybe you put it on for me.

‘How are you doing?’ you ask me.

I make a strange noise; a kind of collision of all the many sounds and words I could currently use to describe how I'm doing. Then I exhale and say, ‘you know. Just …’ I can't get any further. The question is too, too huge. ‘You?’ I ask in reply.

‘Good,’ you say. ‘I’m good. I’m starting a new job next week.’

‘Social care?’

‘No. Actually. No. I sort of changed my mind about that. I’m going to be a teaching assistant at the school I went to when I was little.’

Yes, I think, yes, of course you are. Look at you. That’s exactly what you’re going to be.

‘Oh,’ I say. ‘I bet the children will love you.’

You shrug. ‘It’s good,’ you say. ‘It fits in well around Noah.’

I nod. ‘How is he? How is Noah?’

‘He’s great. He’s beautiful. You know.’

I nod again. ‘And how’s Toby?’

I see your face soften then; Toby is neutral.

‘He’s great. Really great. He and Noah are like best friends. They’re virtually brothers. It’s a gift having him. We love him.’ You run the tip of your thumb over your nails, looking for hangnails, then look up at me. ‘What will you do?’ you ask. ‘When you get out of here? Will you want him back?’

‘Well,’ I say. ‘I’m not sure. I might not be able to. Dad wants me to go and live in Dubai with him.’

‘And? Will you?’

‘I suppose. Just until I’ve worked stuff out.’

Then there is a silence and I know it is the silence that comes directly before the reason for you being here today. I close my eyes and then open them again. You’re staring at me, but you still don't say anything.

‘I’m really sorry,’ I say. ‘About Zach. That I did that. That I took him out of Noah’s life. I mean, really, really sorry. He was a dick, but he didn't deserve that. I feel sick. Every day. I hate myself.’

You don't respond. The silence pulls out. It feels like we’ve run out of things to talk about, but I don’t want you to go.

I put my hand out to touch yours, but you snatch it away from me. ‘I’m a better person,’ you say. ‘What happened. It’s made me a better person. I'm not scared anymore. I’m not scared of anything. And I used to be scared of everything. I just wanted you to know that. That whatever happened, I’m better. And I want you to know that I know you saved my life and I know you loved me and that I forgive you. But that I am moving on with my life now, that I have a relationship and friends of my own, that I have a job and a life and plans and dreams and that you will never be a part of them. None of it. And that I never, ever want to see you or hear from you ever again. Not ever.’

I pull my hand back towards myself and lean backwards into my chair.

‘That’s OK,’ I say quietly. ‘I understand.’

‘Good,’ you say.

And then you stand, and you turn and you leave.

As I watch you go, my eyes catch on the copper strands in your hair that I would love to twirl between my fingertips, run across my cupid’s bow.

The room still smells of some new perfume you were wearing. I breathe it in deeply trying to trap it inside me.

Back in my cell, Brooke is waiting for me. She pulls me to her, roughly, and sniffs behind my ear as if she's trying to catch the smell of you on me. Then she wraps her arms around her and buries her face in my neck. The smell of her hair overrides the smell of you that I was holding onto, and I stop breathing for a second.

‘Did you do it?’ she asks. ‘Did you tell her about me?’

‘Yeah. I did it. It’s over.’

‘What did she say?’

‘She said she understood.’

‘Good girl,’ says Brooke. ‘Good girl.’

I stare at the wall behind Brooke’s shoulder and blink away the tears, before she can see them.

Available from your local Waterstones.

  “Chris, where are your sons?” Robyn asked as she carefully walked downstairs into the living room. She shifted her infant daughter into the crevice of her left arm before sitting down on the couch.

“My sons? You only say that when they act up, what’d they do?” Chris replied.

“I distinctly remember telling them they weren’t allowed to go anywhere because they got suspended from school last week.”

“I know. I heard.”

“So why aren’t they in their rooms like I told them to be?”

“Not sure. I just got in the house 30 minutes ago.”

“Are you really gonna sit here all nonchalant when your sons snuck out of the house and we don’t know where they are?”

“I’m not nonchalant but there’s really nothing I can do being that they aren’t here. I’m sure they’re fine.”

“You’re sure they’re fine? The fuck are you drinking, they are 14 years old.”

“I know how old they are, I was there when they were born. Robyn, you’re being a little hormonal.”

“Hormonal? Don’t you dare use the fact I just had a baby as an excuse for being pissed off at your little delinquent children.”

“My children are not delinquents and Robyn, you are overreacting.”

“I am not. They really just snuck out of the house and you’re acting like it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not ok but I’d rather save my energy for when they get here than use it up being mad and there being nothing I can do about it.”

Robyn rolled her eyes and returned her attention to her infant daughter. Alia Gabrielle Brown was born about 6 weeks ago via C-section. She was about a month early but she was healthy enough to go home right away. Robyn had developed pre-eclampsia around the second trimester but the process of labor proved too stressful for her blood pressure and the baby so the doctor performed a C-section.

      “Ayden, where are the girls meeting us at?” Amari asked as he and his brother stood in front of the mall entrance.

“Kayla said at the front of the movie theater.”

“Oh alright. Has Ma called you or anything?”

“Nah. I’m shocked to be honest.”

“Maybe she doesn’t notice we’re gone. Whatever.”

Ayden shrugged his shoulders then followed his brother through to the mall to the movie theater section in the west wing. There were two girls standing beside the ticket box. Amari waved and they waved back, “Ay Bro, they right there.”

Ayden looked up and smirked, “You ready?”

“Always.”

Composing themselves, Ayden and Amari made their way over to their dates and left to watch a movie.

    “No these little niggas didn’t,” Amira scoffed. Tre’s eyebrow lifted as he gave Amira a look, “What’s wrong, Mira?”

“My little brothers are here.”

“Ok? And?”

“They’re supposed to be grounded and I doubt my parents know they’re here.”

“Maybe they got a pass.”

“Robyn Brown never and mean never gives out passes especially when you’ve been constantly fucking up like those two have. Excuse me for a minute.”

Amira walked out of her chosen screen room into the theater lobby and dialed Robyn’s phone.

“Hey Mira, what’s up?”

“Hey Ma, are the twins home?”

“No they aren’t and I’m waiting for their asses to show up. Why?”

“Because I just saw them at the movies while I’m with Tre.”

“The movies? Are you serious?”

“Very. Looks like they might be on a double date.”

“They snuck out for some fast asses girls. Oh ok.”

“Ma, you ok? Is the baby ok?”

“Alia is fine.”

“What about Daddy?”

“In the room watching TV.”

“Does he know?”

“He’s conserving his energy for when they get home.”

“Oh ok. My movie’s starting so I’ll call when me and Tre leave for dinner.”

“Alright. Be careful and thanks for calling me.”

“No problem. Remember you just had a baby, be calm.”

“Oh I’ma be calm.”

Amira hung up and went back to sit with Tre. She saw her brothers’ cuffing in the corner of the screen room and shook her head with disbelief.

      “Chris, I know where your sons are,” Robyn said as she left the closet and sat down on her bed. Chris looked away from the TV, “where are they?”

“On a double date at the movies.”

“Oh. What you wanna do?”

“Nothing. I got something for them.”

“It’s not gonna require bleach, a rug and an alibi, is it?”

“Nah, it won’t. Does Mira still have her garage key to get into the house?”

“She should.”

“Text her and let her know to come in through the garage when she comes home and to lock that deadbolt behind her too.”

“Alright. Robyn, what are you doing?”

“You’ll see.”

      Ayden and Amari didn’t come home until 11 pm. They got through the initial door before as they got to the first floor door, Amari turned the key and pushed but the door didn’t budge. He jiggled the handle and tried his key again but it still didn’t work.

“Mari, what the hell man? I’m tired and it’s brick in this hallway.”

“My key isn’t working. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“What you mean your key isn’t working? Nigga, move.”

Ayden tried his keys but the door still didn’t budge.

“Ah Fuck. How we gonna get in now?”

“Call Mimi.”

Ayden dialed Amira’s number, “Mimi.”

“Yes Ayden?”

“Come open the door. Our keys aren’t working.”

“Sorry little bro, can’t do that.”

“What you mean you can’t?”

“Mommy’s orders. Since you wanna act grown, sneak out and stay out all night, you can literally stay out all night. The locks were changed.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Very. Sorry little bro, guess y’all sleeping in the hallway for the night. Bye.”

Amira hung up and Ayden glared at the dial tone ringing in his ear. Amari pushed his shoulder, “what’s up?”

“Ma changed the locks and said since we wanna sneak out and stay out all night, we can’t come in.”

“What!”

“She changed the locks on us. We can’t get in the house.”

“Man, what the fuck!”

      Robyn and Amira laughed as they looked through the peephole of the front door. Ayden and Amari were sitting on the floor in the corner of the hallway.

“Ma, this was genius.”

“I told their little asses about being disrespectful and disobedient.”

“I guess. Are you gonna need any help with Alia tonight?”

“Nah, your father’s on daddy duty so he should be fine.”

“Ok. Goodnight Mama.”

“Goodnight Baby Doll.”

Amira kissed Robyn’s cheek and left to her bedroom. Robyn peeked out the peephole again and chuckled to herself again before leaving to go to bed.

      “Robyn, where’s Alia’s other onesies? Baby Girl threw up,” Chris said as he walked into his bedroom. Robyn slipped her pumps onto her feet and took Alia out of Chris’s arms, “Babe, you finish getting ready for work. I’ll change Baby Girl.”

“You sure?”

“Yea, it’s fine. I need to check on your sons anyway.”

Robyn quickly changed Alia’s clothes then went to the front door and opened it. The light from the foyer caused Ayden to jerk, as he was closest to the door.

“Good morning Sunshine,” Robyn said with a laugh, “How was your night?”

“Ma, that wasn’t funny,” Ayden replied in a muffled tone.

“Neither was y’all asses sneaking out of my house like I wasn’t supposed to notice. Get inside to your room, shower, put on some clothes you don’t mind getting dirty and meet me in the living room in 15 minutes. Either one of you are late, there will be hell to pay.”

Ayden pushed his twin to wake him up and they stumbled inside the house, mumbling to themselves.

“I don’t remember saying you could talk either. Upstairs and be back down in 15, no later.”

By the time evening came around, Amari and Ayden were sweaty, dirty and exhausted. Robyn made them clean the entire brownstone from the attic to the basement. Everything was scrubbed, dusted, swept, mopped and shined like a professional cleaning crew had come in. Grumbling and mumbling all the way, the twins followed her orders like cadets in a military academy.

“Ma, can we shower now?” Ayden asked as he and his brother walked into the living room where Robyn was feeding their little sister, Alia.

“You can shower but come back down here when you’re finished. I wanna talk to you before you go to bed.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

With heavy steps the twins made their way upstairs to the bathroom to clean up.

      “Ok, I’m gonna make this quick because you have another busy day tomorrow. I don’t appreciate you disrespecting me, your father or this household by sneaking out when I told you, you aren’t allowed to go anywhere,” Robyn said.

“Ma, we already had this planned for weeks,” Amari interjected

“I do not give a fuck what you had planned. You do not go against my rules and do what you want to do just because you think you can. You live in my house. You don’t pay for shit. You don’t own shit and you don’t control shit. I am your mother and you will do what I say. Just understand this, the next time you decide to want to sneak out of my house, don’t bring your ass back. I hope whoever you’re with got somewhere for you to stay because no child in my house will come in and out as they so choose. Not only it is rude, it’s disrespectful and disobedient. Got it?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Amari and Ayden said simultaneously.

“Go eat dinner then go straight to bed.”