EXTRA-ORDINARY
PART I
Dani sat on the curb, alternating red and blue lighting playing across her face from the police cruiser parked just across the street. Nearby, a once-beautiful, cherry red Mercedes was smoking, its front end caved in by a bollard on the sidewalk. Dani was not looking at the Mercedes, nor at the officer circling the scene and making notes on his clipboard; she was merely staring at a fixed point in space and imagining how nice it would be to be anywhere else at that precise moment. At the feel of something wet, she brought a finger to her nostril. Her fingertip came away bloody, and a few rogue droplets dripped onto her oversized, vintage Deftones t-shirt.
“Shit.”Hours later, Dani sat beneath cold fluorescent lights at the precinct. They had parked her on a wildly uncomfortable bench in the processing area, not far from the bathrooms and within earshot of a vending machine which was not long for this world, judging by the sound of its humming. Dani was cold, but she was damned if she was going to let anyone see her shiver. Instead, she just pulled her arms and legs tighter and tried not to count the minutes. Every so often, another cop would pull her to a desk and ask the same series of questions:
“What's your name?”“Have you been drinking tonight?”“Who was driving the car?”“Do you know where he went?”They'd given her cotton balls until her nosebleed stopped, at least, and had even provided a cup of coffee – which had been sitting too long in the pot – upon request. Dani knew that a quick word would have been enough to secure her release, but she wasn't going to play that card. Not if her life depended on it. She was going to wait it out like any
normal person. That also meant that her one phone call couldn't go to Harlow, which left an even less desirable option.
Elena Reyes stayed up past ten P.M. exactly one night of the year, New Year's Eve, and even that begrudgingly. As she came into the precinct, long coat wrapped around a pair of sweats, it was clear that she'd gotten dressed in haste. Dani was surprised to see first concern, then relief in Elena’s eyes upon finding her daughter; anger, however, did not wait long to make an appearance. Once it was clear that Dani was more or less alright, the two women shared perhaps no more than ten words from Dani’s discharge to when they finally reached the car.
Dani would have been all too glad for the silence to continue, but the inevitable talking-to started right away.
“This boy you were with,” Elena began, voice dripping with contempt on the word “boy,”
“the one who was driving… was he drinking, too?” Dani’s silence was all the answer she needed.
“You realize he could have killed someone? Including you!”“I would have stopped the car,” Dani insisted, though even she could not explain how she would've accomplished that safely. Sitting in the passenger seat with her right leg up, she hugged her knee and stared out the window at the passing buildings.
The older woman merely shook her head.
“To say nothing of what a disaster it would have been if any of them had recognized you.” But they hadn't. They never did, not without the light show.
“You know, I went to bat for you with the Paragon people. I thought it was great that you wanted to focus on your education. If I had any idea this is how you would be spending your time… I mean, what were you thinking, hija?”A boy liked me, she answered silently,
and it felt nice. Of course, it had been less nice when he up and left her there with hardly a word of apology. She hadn't ratted him out, even with all the police’s relentless questioning; not that it would take them long to track him down from the vehicle registration. She supposed she didn't blame him. They hardly knew each other, anyway. Sighing, Dani finally said,
“I wasn't thinking, okay? For once in my life, it was nice not to think.”Elena shot her a glance as though they were speaking completely different languages. Now, it was her turn to sigh.
“I don't know where I went wrong. Dios mío, ayúdame. I was never meant to be a single parent…”At that, Dani began to tune her out. The invocation of her father's memory had become a staple of their fights. In the beginning, when the wounds were fresh, it had really gotten under Dani’s skin. Mentions of Michael would devolve every situation into a screaming match. But overuse had left a callus, and now it was merely her signal that any hope of a productive dialogue was over. Closing her eyes and letting out a long exhale through her nose, Dani opened them again to see their car blowing past signs for Calder State University.
“Mom, campus is that way,” she pointed out.
“You're not going back tonight. You're coming home,” Elena stated, never taking her eyes off the road.
Dani scoffed.
“You're grounding me?”“Danielle,” her mother said in that tone which suggested further counterargument was unwelcome,
“I am tired. We will talk about this in the morning.” And that was that.
The rest of the drive passed in grateful – if tense – silence. With the towering skyline of downtown fading in the rearview, they rode across the Lexington Avenue Bridge towards the quiet, tree-lined borough of Elmhurst. PRG had offered to procure the family a high-rise apartment, but Elena would have none of it. Too noisy and impersonal, she claimed. Life moved slower in Elmhurst, which was much more to her taste. Gone were the monoliths of steel and glass, replaced by cozy brownstones and single-family homes.
The Carter house was a small, detached Colonial with an enclosed brick porch and faded yellow siding. As Elena pulled the car into the driveway, she said,
“Leave your shirt by the utility tub. I'll soak it with cold water and salt in the morning.” The fight was far from over – dawn would bring renewed tempers – but for the night, she was calling an end to hostilities. With hardly a glance back, Elena killed the engine and made for the front door, with her bedroom immediately to follow.
For her part, Dani was less ready for bed. The cops’ coffee had been stronger than it looked, and besides, she kept a college student’s hours. A growing pain behind her forehead suggested that some water might be in order. Kicking off her Doc Martens by the door, she padded down an unlit hallway towards the kitchen. Halfway down, on the right, a single lamp had been left on in the den. Dani hesitated a moment before mustering up the courage to enter.
In most respects, the room was like any other. It had a TV which might've been cutting-edge in 2010. It had a couch, the same one they brought with them from Austin. (You had to know exactly where to sit to avoid the spots where the padding had all but worn away.) One wall consisted entirely of a built-in bookshelf; neither of them were prodigious readers, so it held nearly as many knickknacks as books. But it was the back wall, the one on your right as you entered, which gave Dani pause.
It would have been an exaggeration to call it a “shrine,” but not by much. As any proud mother would, Elena had collected some of her favorite newspaper clippings and had them framed. Each and every one concerned Aurora’s exploits:
“TEXAS'S NEWEST STAR.” – Austin American-Statesman.
“‘AURORA’ OFFICIALLY TAKES TO THE SKIES.” – Texas Monthly.
“BLINDED BY THE LIGHT: GUNMEN FOILED BY TEEN HERO.” – USA Today.
“AURORA DEFEATS MAELSTROM IN HARBOR CLASH.” – Calder City Chronicle.
Outside the Statesman, which had a screenshot from the viral ACL Music Festival incident, Dani recognized herself in none of the accompanying photos. She was allowed only a single set of earrings when in costume, her hair was professionally styled, and she always had that perfectly neutral “no-makeup” look which took twice as long anyway. Aurora was a
product, not a person.
The power, that at least she recognized. Even now, she felt it like a hum under her skin. It was always there, waiting at her beck and call. She had not used her powers in months. Her fingers itched at the thought of it. With furrowed brow, Dani suppressed the thought. She would let the light out again… just not tonight. Turning away from the wall of her accomplishments, she crossed the room towards the still lit lamp.
As she bent to turn the knob, Dani saw it out of the corner of her eye: a flag, folded in a triangle and displayed behind glass. On the shelf next to it was a portrait of Michael Carter in his dress uniform. Beneath a bit of black ribbon tucked in the corner of the frame, the dead man smiled at his daughter.
I'm sorry, Dad, Dani thought and turned out the light.