|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Dec 31, 2006 10:24 pm
That's right. This is the one I DIDN'T send in. gonk
Maybe I should'a.
-----------
The jokes had flown for WEEKS after she came. Friends. Fellow Agents. Anyone who vaguely KNEW Vilden Keth. Someone had left a baby in front of his apartment. No name, no mention of where she'd come from. A baby who couldn't even perceive emotions, let alone project them.
For the first week, the joke was "So I hear those fertile offworlder chicks put out on the first date!" After all, that was the assumption. That Vilden had obviously knocked up some hapless young damsel on another world, which would explain the baby's complete lack of empathy.
On the second week, it was discovered that the baby's DNA didn't match any known pattern in the military database. And considering all the worlds they'd made contact with? That was saying something. That was the week the jokes got biblical. "Hey, Keth! How could you have this kid, anyway? You DO know the touch of a man!"
On the third week, the jokes began to fade as hushed whispers took their place. Agent Keth had begun the legal adoption process.
"Didn't he say he wasn't ready for children?"
"She doesn't even have a hint of mental strength, bless her little heart..."
"He's got such a powerful mind. If he were going to adopt, why wouldn't he adopt someone he could actually train after himself?"
"There are institutions for children like her. They can teach her to live a productive life, even if she is mentally challenged..."
"Wasn't his sister mentally challenged?"
"Oh, yeah! Not enough for the institution, though. She's got enough empathy to get by."
"You know that Keth. A heart as big as the eastern continent, that one. I hope he knows what he's getting into..."
"He isn't going to try to put her through the Academy, is he?"
"You know those Agents. What they want, they get."
"Can you imagine a child like that getting preferential treatment in the Academy instead of a child who deserves it? Oooh, it boils my blood!"
"Well, I think it's a beautiful thing he's doing for that poor child!"
The rumors and statements got back around to him; they always did. But still, he seemed unfazed. The gawkers and the tongue clucking, he ignored. The comparing of him to a saint for taking in that poor little mentally challenged girl, he simply shrugged at.
But once in a while, there would be some kind soul who looked past all that, as Vilden had. Someone who would see the baby in the carrier on Vilden's back, grin, and approach them warmly.
"My goodness!" It was a supermarket, this time. The produce aisle. An old woman, probably in her eighties, at least. And she was holding out her finger to the baby, who happily took it into her mouth and chewed as if her life depended on it. "Those beautiful eyes of hers... they just capture your heart, don't they?"
Vilden grinned awkwardly, tilting his head to better see the lady who'd offered her finger to the baby. "...Yeah." A shy laugh. "They really do."
"Does she have a name?"
"Yeah." Vilden reached back to pat the baby on the head, eliciting a delighted squeal. "Sofi."
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 09, 2007 12:53 am
OKAY THIS WAS THE ONE I SENT IN, COMPLETE WITH MAJOR TYPO.
------------
Sofi hated gym class.
It wasn't that the physical activity was difficult, or that the rules of the sports they played were difficult to understand. She just hated that she felt so exposed in her gym shorts (which always did manage to give her a wedgie), and the knee-high sports socks she had "borrowed" from her father were too large for her legs and always needed to be adjusted at the most inopportune times. She just hated that she was always picked last for teams since she was the "Special Ed" kid. As if a lack of empathy from one player was going to contaminate the entire team! And above all else, she hated that the class managed to suck the fun out of something like running around in circles. How could ANYONE suck the fun out of running in circles? Obviously, Coach Swank.
And her special aide, Millie, got to spend the entire class lounging comfortably on the cold, hard plastic -- all right, maybe not so comfortable bleachers. As far as Sofi was concerned, not being on the gym floor was comfortable.
It wasn't Millie's fault. Sofi didn't really need someone to inform her of the important empathic projections that Sofi couldn't hear. Not in gym class.
Which left Sofi on her own. On dodge ball day, of all days!
She didn't need empathy to see what her peers had in store for her. Once again the last to be picked (much to the dismay of her teammates), she was unceremoniously shoved to the front lines.
"Ah--" she finally spoke, her breath catching in her throat. "You want maybe I... I should stand in back?" She stuttered, attempting to push her way to the back of her team's side.
"Take your spot, Keth!" Coach Swank called. Damn, was HE on their side, too?
"But--"
FWEEEEEEEEEEEEET!
Aaaaaaand that was Sofi's cue to duck and cover as a salvo of bright red balls hurtled toward her. That first volley miraculously missed her, but as she stood up to regain her bearings, she found herself once again under attack. Her stomach turned her ice, and her knees to jell-o. Perhaps literally, considering the ease she suddenly found in dodging.
So maybe all that practice finally paid off! Wobble left! Wobble right! Be a noodle! Be THE noodle!
She was so wrapped up in her newfound dodging ability that she didn't at first realize the volley had stopped. Well, that could mean only one thing!
"Who's the target NOW?" She crowed.
No response.
"What with the silence?" She turned to face her own teammates. "What with the stopping already?"
"Dude," one of the students breathed. "The body was NOT meant to bend that way."
"Seriously."
Now Sofi was REALLY confused. "I don't unders--"
FWEEEEEEEEEEEEEET! "C'mon, game on!"
"But w--!" Sofi began, but was cut off by a dodge ball to the face. WHAM! Now, the gym ceiling. That was something she was used to seeing. And that pain in her nose, too. But her teammates (and foes) standing over her looking like they'd seen a ghost? "Wuhd? Wuhd wong?"
"DUDE. Now that is MESSED UP."
"Holy s**t! Coach, we need you!"
"What is it this-- HOLY--!"
NOW Sofi was beginning to feel a little panicked. "W...Wuhd? Wuhd Abben?"
"Uh..." Now Millie was standing over her. "...Sofi... sweetheart?"
"Uh?"
"...Your nose..." Millie swallowed nervously. "It's... caved in. It's like... it's like... it's just... It's an innie!"
"WUHD?!"
"Nurse. NOW!"
Well, this was weird. Her nose was beaten into her face? That sort of thing happened all the time in cartoons, right? And Sofi didn't really feel a thing aside from the normal sting of having the ball's brand name imprinted into her forehead. She didn't THINK her nose was broken.
She chewed on her thumb nervously, eyes darting from student to student as they gawked at her face. And, almost reflexively, she blew onto her thumb, as if it were a kind of inflation nozzle.
POP!
"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"
And as her peers leapt away from Sofi, she could suddenly find herself able to breathe out of her nose again! Sure, it was sore, but her nose worked! And she could FEEL it! "It's all right!" She called. "I'm... I'm O-KAY!"
No. Apparently not, upon closer inspection. After all, there seemed to be a fainted girl on the court, dropped jaws all over the place, and the coach on the phone demanding to speak to the government.
"Oy," Sofi muttered, holding her knees to her chest. "Third time this month."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
