A series by November

Chapter 34: When the Brave are Coming Out II

"When the brave are coming out,
the dry fight and the dusty shout...
--Duran Duran

It was summer and despite the lack of classes, the mansion was full of activity. Xavier was working on a five-year expansion plan for the school. Part of the program involved application for government funding for school subsidies. Another was planning a new building with dorm and classroom space, to be set in the woods behind the mansion.

A third project involved networking with youth counselors and guidance counselors all over the US, giving them information about Xavier's, giving tours of the facilities, taking calls.

Rogue was spearheading this project for the summer and she loved it. She was getting calls from all over the world, from word of mouth, from ads placed in NEA newsletters. Most of the calls were professional, from callers who wanted to know about tuition and scholarships and admissions requirements.

Some were from parents whose children had just manifested, and who were panicking. Rogue was always friendly and inevitably some of the callers’ questions turned personal. Was she a mutant? Was she an alumnus? Rogue was forthcoming, professional, and matter-of-fact with them and they seemed to appreciate that. More satisfying for her, it allowed her to demystify what it was to be a mutant. She laughed with them, got to know some of them, even exchanged sad stories.

Some calls were from mutant teens and even younger children. They were often terrified because they just manifested and had told no one else. Some had been given Xavier’s number from suicide hotlines which didn’t bother to address their suicidality, and at these times Rogue was furious and overwhelmed by a situation that she wasn’t trained to deal with. As far as she knew no one died on her. She tried to give them hope. More than she knew, she succeeded.

Part of her job was carried out on-line, and there was hate mail at times. These people seemed more comfortable expressing their vitriol in badly penned emails than in talking to a real live mutant. Rogue answered them, if at all, with an elegant brief rebuttal and an invitation to tour the school. To her knowledge, none of them ever accepted.

This made her feel a part of something larger and gave her immeasurable satisfaction. The world was changing, humanity was changing, and she had found her niche in helping people transition. She had no illusions about the smallness of her contribution, but it was a contribution nonetheless. She had never been happier.

One day she got a call from a scared girl who had just manifested. The Southern accent was unmistakable. The girl sounded young and Rogue instantly turned maternal.

"Where you from, Sugar?" She asked, trying to focus the conversation on something neutral, if only to calm her down for a second.

"Mississippi."

"That so? What part?"

"Savannah Grove."

It was the town adjacent to Meridian, her own hometown. Her pulse quickened.

"Do you like living there?"

"I did but people here are afraid of mutants."

"I know- small towns are like that, huh?"

"There was a girl here who had poison skin and put my uncle into a coma for three weeks."

Oh.

Cody. She hadn’t thought of him in so long. He wasn’t even in her head anymore, not enough to even raise his head when his niece spoke.

"That must have been scary."

"I was just a baby. I didn‘t really understand it."

Rogue was torn between helping the girl and pumping her for information. She decided to do both.

"How is your uncle now, is he okay?"

"Yes." Rogue closed her eyes in relief.

"I’m scared. I don’t know who to tell."

"That’s understandable. That’s a very scary thing to deal with at first, and not knowing who to tell makes it worse."

"Are you a mutant?"

Yes, I am, she wanted to say. I am that girl with the poison skin and I’m doing just fine.

"Yeah, sugar, I am. And I’m from down south just like you. Do you know anyone in your town who isn’t afraid of mutants? Someone who is sympathetic?"

"I dunno. My fourth grade teacher."

"Yeah? Maybe you could talk to them. How about your uncle, the one who was touched by a mutant? How does he feel about it?"

"He doesn’t mind them. He knew it wasn’t her fault. He really liked the girl."

The relief that flooded Rogue was so profound and strong that it shocked her. She had to swallow down tears for a second.

"Do you think maybe he’d be safe to tell?"

"Yeah."

"Well maybe you can tell him. What about your momma and daddy?"

"I don’t have a daddy."

"That’s too bad. What about your momma, how does she feel?"

"I dunno. Can I come to your school?"

"Maybe. Though we only have classes for big kids right now but that‘s gonna change."

"Can you read minds and stuff?"

Marie laughed. "No sugar, that’s not my thing. Can you?" "No. I can make fire."

"One of my very good friends can do that. He’s gotten very good at controlling it too."

"You can do that?"

"With practice. That’s one of the things we teach here."

"I wanna come to your school."

"Tell you what, sug. You talk to your uncle. If you want more info you have him call here and ask for Rogue, allright?"

"Okay."

"It’s gonna be okay, honey. One day at a time, okay?"

"Okay."

"You call back here if you need to, allright?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

She hung up the phone and stared into space. Cody was alive. Cody was well. And he didn’t hate her. Part of the burden she carried, constant as the weight of her own body, slipped away.