Time Warps
 

I don’t remember my mother, or even if I had one, but I’m sure if I did she had all sorts of advice for me.  Like, it’s rude to stare.  That sort of garbage.  Boy, she would have had a fit if she’d seen the little show I put on last night.

When I came back, I told myself it was because I was getting pretty sick of the life I was leading.  Fighting and living in a camper only hold so much interest, you know?  ‘Sides, I was kind of missing Jeannie.  The old redhead kept me company on many of my lonelier nights, if you know what I mean.

After some searching at that place Xavier told me about, I realized it was going to be a Hell of a lot harder to dig up anything on my past.  I got a couple of clues, some misleading, some promising, but nothing that satisfied me.

So, I headed to the only place I could possibly call “home”.

Three years had passed, but I didn’t think much of it.  Actually, time passes pretty quickly for me.  Months go by without my noticing.  So, when I showed up at the school, I pretty much expected everything to be the same. And, for the most part, it was.

I chatted with the professor when I first got there. Told him all that I’d found out, which wasn’t much.  He seemed pretty all right with my showing up.  He told me I could stay for as long as I wanted. He even showed me to my room.  Yeah, Wheels is real hospitable.

My meager belongings got shoved into a closet, and I headed out to see what I could do.  First person I ran into was Jean.  She looked pretty good I have to say.  She was nice. Asked me the exact same questions Xavier did. She smiled and told me it was nice to see me again, that sort of thing.  Still, for some reason, she didn’t live up to all the fantasies I’d had.  Maybe, all that time dreaming her up in cold Canada distorted the reality.

I was around a day or two before I realized I hadn’t seen Marie.  It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about seeing her; I had.  I really was wondering how she was doing, how the geeks were treating her. It’s just, like I said, time passes me pretty fast.

Tracking her down was pretty easy.  All the kids knew who she was, at least by reputation.  I guess when there’s someone around who can kill with a touch, you want to find out who it is.
 
When I asked one of the little bastards where Rogue was, he looked at me like I was crazy, or something. “The one with the gloves?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s her,” I said.  I could smell the fear on the kid. I don’t know what he was afraid of. Me or Rogue.

“Uh, she usually hangs out in the library right now.”  That was all he said before he disappeared.  Actually vanished before my eyes.

So, that’s where I found her. Reading in the library.

I have to admit, time had passed.  I mean, she’s grown up a lot.  I told her so, too. And that’s what she replied, “Time passes.” Goddamn, but it does.

Her outfit was similar to what she’d been wearing when I left.  There was the whole scarf and gloves thing going.  But she was wearing a skirt that showed off these delicious tight-covered legs. She hadn’t changed that much physically.  Not really. It was the way she was sitting there, holding her book.  Like she’d grown into herself.

Honestly? I didn’t know what to say.  I kind of looked at her and decided it was maybe safer if I didn’t. She probably thought I was really interested in that painting over the fireplace.  I couldn’t have cared less, really, but I had to look at something.

She asked what I’d been doing and I told her and I could tell she was upset about it.  Maybe she was mad ‘cause I hadn’t called. I don’t know. Well, maybe I do but I was never one for picking up a phone. I would have said so but, right then, I didn’t think she wanted to hear it.

Then she stood up and told me she’d go get them.  Just then, I wasn’t paying much attention to what she was saying. Frankly, my world tilted a little when she stood up and left me looking up at her.  I had to stand up too, just to keep from getting too dizzy.  Them?  The dog tags, she clarified.

Ah, the dog tags.  I can’t say I didn’t miss them a little.  They were my only constant for fifteen years.  When I didn’t know anything about myself, or anything else, I had those tags. I’d given them to her because I’d wanted her to keep a little piece of me. The tags were all I could giver her.

And she was going to give them back.  I shrugged it off; told her I didn’t need them just then.  I forgot to add that she should keep them forever.  I really wanted her to have them. If she had them, maybe it was proof I existed, I don’t know.

She got kind of nervous then. I could tell she was itching to get away. Told me she’d see me around.  As she was walking away, shaking that ass of hers so that I shouldn’t be looking, I did something really stupid. Even for me.

I told her she looked good. I was trying to pay her a compliment, I guess. Because she did look good. Maybe it freaked her out; she left the room pretty quick after that.  Maybe, I’m like her daddy and she doesn’t want to hear that sort of thing from me.  That thought makes me sick. It really does.  I kind of want to believe she’s still taken with me, like Jean said she was.  Then I remember how long ago that was, and I realize things could be very different.

Then, last night happened, and I don’t know what to think anymore.  I was minding my own business, eating, when I smell her come into the kitchen.  I didn’t turn around because I was still a little peeved she hadn’t taken my compliment the way I’d hoped.  And, anyway, I’d figured she’d get whatever she’d gone for and get out.

Whatever she was doing, it took her forever.  I could feel her watching me. My back was to her, so she had to have been looking at my back.  I honestly didn’t know what she was up to, but I didn’t turn around.  Finally, she went and got her drink. I thought that was it, but she was still staring at me, sipping at her damned water.

At that point I had enough and broke down and said hello.  I guess she was waiting for that acknowledgment because she finally asked what I was doing up.

Turning around to answer was the wrong move. I should have kept my back to her. Sure, it would have been rude but, so what?  Since when did being rude bother me?

That thing, that poor excuse for a nightgown she was wearing… I didn’t think she was allowed to wear that sort of thing. It was this gauzy material. Just transparent, really. It was like she was wearing nothing at all. Yeah, I stared. I couldn’t help myself.

There was so much skin lying beneath that gown. It made me forget it was untouchable.  The thin material silhouetted her long legs. My fingers were itching to touch them, run my hand up those silky legs. What my fingers couldn’t, I let my eyes do.  I ran them up and down her legs. And back up, and up until they settled on her breasts. Geez, I must be old. I almost had a heart attack right then and there. Craving the touch of the young.

Then, she crossed her arms in front of her.  My brain switched back on when she did that and I was very angry.  Angry that I’d let myself stare at her that way. Angry for having forgotten who she was, and what I was to her.

I washed my plate then, just so I’d have something to do.  I had to move pretty close to her to do it.  I can’t say I’m proud of myself for the things that were running through my head.  But I’m not apologizing for them, either.

Then, I asked her if it wasn’t time for her to go to bed, because I really wanted her to leave. I wanted her to leave me the sterile kitchen where maybe I’d down a couple of beers and try to forget I ever laid eyes on that gown of hers.

She whispered a little something but I was mostly paying attention to the lilt of her voice. Her siren call.

I was dead already so I just plain told her to go to bed.  And the girl had the nerve to smile that crooked, beautiful smile of hers and teasingly remark, “You’re not my father.”

Oh, that did it.  I wasn’t her father. I’d known that all along.  But I didn’t want to find out how she’d react if I tried showing her just how
much I wasn’t her father. So, I told her to “go to bed, kid” even though every part of my body knew she very well is not a kid.

The smile faded and I could tell she was hurt.  Maybe she doesn’t like being called a kid anymore. Maybe she realizes she’s not a kid as much as I do. She turned to walk away from me, and I was left staring at her backside.  I really couldn’t win. I wasn’t thinking straight anymore.  I was angry that she had that sort of effect on me.

So, I told her, not so subtly, that she’d catch cold wearing something like that, that she should wear a robe.  She turned back and gave me this wide-eyed look that floored me.  Those eyes of hers are amazing.  I’d noticed before but that moment really had me intoxicated. Everything was magnified to an extreme. She told me it wasn’t cold.

What the Hell did being cold have anything to do with it?  I told her to wear a robe anyway and I walked out of that room as fast as I could without breaking into a run.  I passed by her so closely I could feel the bottom of her gown against my jeans.

I nearly exploded.