Discovery (20 page)

“No problem.” His eyes were soft as he slowly and reluctantly released his hold on her.

“Are you hungry?” asked Dave.

As if on cue, Grace's stomach growled. Ben and Grace looked at each other and hysterical laughter overcame them. It was a good laugh, one they had not had in a very long time and it took a few minutes for each to catch their breath.

“I'm afraid that food hasn't exactly been high on our agenda the past few days,” chuckled Ben. “So, yeah, you could say we're hungry.”

“Great.” Dave had a funny look in his eyes. “Because I can see that Petra has dinner ready now.”

Dave started walking down the middle of the road with Grace and Ben following close behind him. They passed cabin after cabin along the road. Most of the buildings appeared to be residences with wide front porches and roughly hewn rocking chairs obviously recycled from the woods' discarded branches. The cabins without front porches resembled storefronts from an old western town. One looked like a blacksmith's shop, one a woodworking shop, but the largest cabin on the road was “Ted's General Store” as indicated by the large, faded blue letters painted on the side of the building. Despite the numerous buildings, however, not a soul could be seen on the road, on the porches, not even in the cabin windows. It was like a ghost town.

“Where is everyone?” asked Ben.

“Ballgame.” Dave glanced at his watch. “Should be about over by about now. But there will be another one tomorrow so you haven't missed anything.”

Ben looked over at Grace. “Wait until you see a Powers ballgame. I promise you'll finally have some fun tomorrow.”

Grace smiled like she knew what Ben was talking about, but, as usual, she did not.

Dave's cabin was toward the end of the road but was built behind the first row of cabins and on the other side of the creek. It sat a little way up the mountainside and appeared to be one of the most hidden cabins in the entire community. It had a wide front porch with six rocking chairs strewn haphazardly all over it and Grace had to fight her impulse to orderly realign them. The cabin's position on the mountainside gave the front porch rockers not only a fantastic view of the creek but also of the entire road and community below. Grace assumed Dave had intentionally chosen this cabin site more for this voyeuristic view than its inherent camouflage qualities.

“Petra!” Dave called through the cabin's screen door. “They're here!”

Upon Dave's loud announcement, out of the cabin walked one of the most beautiful women Grace had ever laid eyes on. She wore blue jeans and a faded Rolling Stones tee shirt, and appeared to be slightly older, around Dave's age, with gray streaks throughout her thick blonde hair and around her temples. The top of her hair was pulled away from her face with a wooden clip, leaving the remaining long strands cascading down her back. But her face. Her face was unlike anything Grace had never seen. Her skin was porcelain, her lips a deep rose, and her eyes the bluest of blues. She wore no make-up and, even with laugh lines dancing around her twinkling eyes, her face had the softness of a very young child.

“Benjamin!” Petra wrapped her slender arms around Ben and gave him a squeeze. “How we have missed you so! Just look at you. So tall and grown up! I'm so happy you're finally here.” Her sweet voice made her words sound almost lyrical. “And you must be Grace,” she said taking Grace's hand. “It is such an honor to finally meet you and have you in our home. I am so sorry I didn't see you coming sooner or I would have had everything ready. But you know how we Misfits are. Always one step behind.”

“Uh … nice to meet you too.” Grace looked puzzled and stood a little closer to Ben. She had no idea what Petra was talking about.

“Oh, shoot! Forgive my manners, dear. Here I am going on and on and I know exactly who you are and you have no idea who I am. I'm Dave's wife. At least I am until he finds someone else to put up with him, but we all know
that
is never going to happen,” she giggled and winked.

Dave grabbed Petra from behind, his large arms folding around her lean body. “But I don't want anyone else.” He grinned and nuzzled the back of her neck.

Petra waved him off. “Oh, pooh. Let's get these young people some supper. I know they're starving. Come on inside, you two.”

Grace and Ben followed the happy couple into the cabin, which had an interior that belonged more on the pages of
Architectural Digest
than in the middle of a clandestine forest. To the left was an expansive living room with a stone fireplace that reached halfway across the far wall and several large tufted sofas and chairs that invited afternoon naps. Two floor-to-ceiling windows that were at least fifteen feet tall flanked the fireplace and, looking upward, the high ceiling revealed an upstairs loft area with skylights that captured the dusk's remaining sunlight. To the right of the front door was the kitchen with pine cabinets and a long rustic dining table that stretched between two sturdy benches. The table was filled with more food than was needed for four people and the glistening fine china and crystal place settings looked a little out of place next to the hosts' blue jean attire.

“Please, sit, sit.” Petra motioned Ben and Grace over to the table. “Ben, I made your favorite. Hash brown casserole. And Grace, Dave couldn't exactly see what you liked so I made a little bit of everything for you.”

Looking at the bountiful table, Grace thought a “little bit of everything” may have been an understatement. Spread over the table were silver dishes filled with chicken, ham, potatoes and more salads and fresh vegetables than Grace had ever seen in her life. “It all looks wonderful. Thank you,” she said. “But, um … do you mind if I wash up a little first?”

“Of course! Of course! Right down the hall there and first door on your left,” Petra replied.

Grace leaned into Ben and whispered, “Come with me.” Her small voice leaked insecurity.

Ben silently obliged and stood guard outside the bathroom door as she requested.

“She's good looking,” Dave whispered to Petra as soon as Ben and Grace had left the room. “It's too bad Ben is not the Chosen One. They would have made a good couple.”

“Dave,” Petra quietly scolded. “No matchmaking. Ben's in enough trouble with the Council as it is.”

“Hello! Remember me? Powers guy here!” Ben called out from the hallway. “I can hear you two whispering!”

Dave opened his mouth to reply but before he could utter a word, Grace and Ben reappeared in the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Grace said, still drying her hands on her jeans.

“Okay. Now let's eat,” said Dave.

The four sat at the long table with Grace sitting closer to Ben than usual. Remembering her own clumsiness, she used extra care when she picked up the stemmed crystal water goblet and slowly moved it to her lips.

Seeing Grace's noted cautiousness, Petra said, “I hope all the crystal and china doesn't make you uncomfortable, dear. We just haven't ever had royalty in our home and I wanted to make a good impression. Besides, I tried to look and did not see you breaking anything on the table so you can relax. You won't hurt anything.”

Once again, Grace had no idea what Petra was talking about. She looked over at Ben with the puzzled expression he had now grown accustomed to over the past two days.

As if reading her thoughts, Ben said, “For Dave and Petra to see means something a little different than it does for the rest of us. Petra can see the future — sometimes. She isn't always accurate and doesn't always see everything but she tries.”

“That's why we're so good together,” Dave said. “She's into the future and I'm into the past. An opposites attract kind of thing.”

Ben looked at Grace. “Dave, on the other hand, can see the past — at least some of it,” Ben grinned.

“Yeah,” continued Dave. “Your father and I used to have a lot of fun with that at training camp. To know who had a crush on whom, who cheated on which test. We had a blast messing with our classmates. Too bad the Council didn't think my powers would be helpful in protecting the humans. Together, your father and I could have stomped the Anti-Powers and you all would not be in the situation you are in today.”

At the mention of his father, Ben shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “Dave, about Dad — ” Ben started.

Dave held up his hand. “I already know. For once, my powers worked exactly the way they were supposed to and I knew it right after it happened. I'm sorry Ben, real sorry. Your parents were good people. Petra and I lost our best friends that day and they will never be replaced as far as we're concerned.”

Tears welled up in Petra's eyes. “I just wish I had seen something coming. Anything. Maybe I could have stopped the Anti-Powers.”

Dave put his arm around his wife's shoulders and looked at Ben. “She's beat herself up pretty bad over not seeing their future.”

“Petra,” Ben soothed. “It's okay. It's not your fault. It's not anybody's fault.”

“Except for the Anti-Powers,” Dave added. “I'd love to get my hands on one, just one!”

“Ben killed two Anti-Powers,” Grace piped in trying to steer the conversation away from the topic of Ben's parents.

“Well,” Ben said. “At least one. Maybe two.”

“Attaboy! Two down! That's fantastic,” Dave proudly beamed. “Now that's the kind of stuff we used to send in to Stan Lee. He could have really used that!”

“Stan Lee? The comic book guy?” Grace was in the dark yet once again.

Dave looked at Ben. “How much have you told her? I can't see.”

“Not much,” Ben lied. “Just what I thought she needed to know. I told her about the Salem murders and that rogue Council member that started the Anti-Powers. That's pretty much it.”

“Hello! I'm right here. Remember?” Grace uncharacteristically interrupted. “No need to refer to me in third person. Now what's this about Stan Lee?”

Dave leaned in and looked hard at Grace seated across the table. “Miss Grace, it appears you need a history lesson.” He leaned in even closer to Grace. “Well, if you know about the Salem murders, then you know why the Powers are such a secretive bunch. To tell you, a human, anything is a huge Council code violation, sometimes punishable by death.”

Grace's eyes widened as she looked over at Ben, but Ben just stared down into his plate and pushed his food around with his fork.

“But around here,” Dave continued, “we don't pay much attention to the Council. Just because we only have one power and just because that power may or may not work the way it should, well … I mean … they seem to think they don't need us to protect the humans so, in turn, we don't need them and their stupid Council code. The Misfits, as they like to call us, well … we live by our own rules.”

“Dave? You were telling her about Stan Lee. Remember?” Petra prodded him.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Okay. Anyway, after the Salem murders, the Council decided that all Powers should go into hiding. At first, most were okay with that. They could protect the humans and hide their powers at the same time. No problem. But as things became more modern and weapons deadlier, it became harder and harder for the Powers to protect the humans without openly using their special abilities. So, early in the twentieth century, the Council came up with the idea that, if the humans could view the Powers as their protectors instead of as freaks, then the humans would be more accepting and the Powers would be able to use their abilities out in the open.”

Grace was so engrossed by Dave's lesson that, as she leaned closer across the table to hear her host, she unconsciously shifted her hand from her lap to Ben's knee under the table.

Ben smiled to himself but was otherwise afraid to move. He liked Grace's hand just where it was.

“So,” Dave said, “in walks Mr. Stan Lee, public relations man extraordinaire. He was genius. Pure genius. The Council secretly hired him to work on the Powers' image with the humans. His idea was to introduce the Powers through comic books to the younger humans. He thought if he could hook the children early, make them understand that the Powers were real and good and all that, then, when they got older, they would accept the Powers as their protectors and the Powers would not have to hide anymore.”

“Comic books? That was his great PR strategy?” Grace questioned skeptically.

“Yeah. Sounds simple, I know, but it was a fantastic idea. All the kids loved us. And he had all the great Powers in there. He and his associates filled the Marvel and DC comic books with them. You'd know them as Spiderman, Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman … there are too many to count now.”

“Superman was … was real?” Grace was almost laughing now.

“What do you mean ‘was'? He's retired and living in Boca Raton now.” Dave spoke as if that was a well-known fact.

“He always sends Dave the funniest birthday cards,” Petra added.

Grace just sat there shaking her head. Ben had been a comic book junkie when he was younger. Now she realized he was just studying up on his history.

“Who else?” Grace asked excitedly. “Who else is still around?”

“Well,” Dave continued. “The guy you'd call Batman is living in Montana. Huge fly fisherman. Even ties his own flies. Loves nothing more than to be out on a river.”

“He has the most beautiful cabin up there,” inserted Petra. “We actually got some ideas for our cabin from visiting his.”

“And Robin?”

“San Francisco, of course.” Dave rolled his eyes as if Grace should have known that.

“What about Wonder Woman?”

“She lives in Atlanta,” Petra answered. “Owns the cutest little antique store in Buckhead. She needed to live near a major airport since she's always going back and forth between Boca and Montana, if you know what I mean. And since Atlanta was right in between, it was the perfect place for her to retire.”