Discovery (22 page)

“Yeah, but that doesn't really help when my whole goal in life is to avoid being the center of attention, now does it?” Grace said.

“Grace,” Ben's voice took on a serious tone. “You are the last of your family line. You're all the royalty we have left. It's kind of a big deal for the Misfits to have you here. It's truly an honor for them and it makes them feel good to be helping you. I know you hate it but let them be respectful and treat you like royalty for now — at least until I can figure this whole Anti-Powers situation out. Okay?” Ben's blue eyes intentionally tore through Grace.

“Okay,” she nodded.

“Thanks. Now get up. After breakfast I'm going to show you the town. Literally.” Ben patted Grace's hand and stood up. “And I can't wait for you to watch the ballgame. It's quite a … spectacle.”

Ben left Grace smiling even though she still felt uncomfortable as a royal guest in the Misfit community. Shaking off her shyness, she quickly changed into the jeans and tee shirt Petra had laid out the night before. Seeing The Who's Roger Daltry screaming across her chest in the bathroom mirror, Grace assumed Dave and Petra must have been concert junkies in their younger days. Without thinking, Grace began to pull her hair back into her usual tight ponytail but, looking at herself in the mirror, she stopped. She released her hair and it fell full along her shoulders and down her back.

“There. That's better,” she said to herself before throwing the rubber band in the trash and heading to the kitchen.

The breakfast table looked more plentiful than the night before, if that was at all possible, and once again, Petra had brought out her fine china.

“Did you sleep well, Your Majesty?” Dave asked, placing a heaping bowl of scrambled eggs directly in front of Grace's plate.

Grace glanced over at Ben knowingly, the regal greeting ringing in her ears, before she smiled up at Dave and said, “Yes, thank you.”

“Good, good. Glad nothing … interrupted your dreams,” Dave said, nudging Ben behind his back.

“You're real funny, Dave,” Ben whispered in his host's ear as he pushed Dave aside and sat down next to Grace.

Like the night before, the foursome practically licked their plates clean and, watching Petra's slender arms reach for her twelfth slice of bacon, Grace wondered if the Misfits ever gained any weight. If living here meant she could eat that much processed meat and still keep her weight down, Grace was moving in to stay.

After the hearty breakfast, and after Grace had washed the dishes despite Petra's shrieking protests against royalty doing any type of labor in her home, Ben led Grace back down the mountainside to the dirt road running through the center of the Misfit community. Unlike the day before, the community was bustling with people and, as expected, everyone already knew about Grace because each person they came across either bowed or curtsied in a grand fashion.

“I'm sorry,” Ben whispered in her ear after they had encountered the umpteenth bow. “I know that makes you uncomfortable but thanks for being such a good sport about it.”

“If that's what makes them happy, then I'll live with it,” Grace whispered back. “But if you ever start doing that, as royalty I will have no choice but to have you killed by the palace guards.”

“Got it,” laughed Ben.

They passed by Ted's General Store and found Numbers hanging around the old wooden steps leading up to the front door. “Your Highness,” he said with a bow. “Welcome to my humble establishment.”

“You? You're Ted?” asked Grace pointing to the sign on the side of the building.

“Yes, Madam,” Numbers chortled. “My real name's Ted. Numbers is only a nickname Vector gave me a long time ago and it just kind of stuck.”

“Is he in his shop?” asked Ben, peering around the side of the building.

“Yes, sir. Go on back. He was hoping you'd stop by.”

Ben took Grace's hand and led her to a building behind the General Store. It too, was a log cabin, but it had various satellite dishes in all shapes and sizes covering its green tin roof. The large modern steel front door, measuring at least five feet wide, resembled the entrance to a bank vault and looked very out of place sitting in the middle of the cabin's log walls. Beside the front door was a small red button which, when Ben pushed it, sang Aretha Franklin's “Respect” both inside the shop and out on the front porch.

“Cool doorbell,” Grace grinned.

“Yeah. Vector had a thing for Aretha back in the sixties. Rumor is that she still visits him here from time to time.”

Grace raised her eyebrows. “You mean she's a — ?”

“With that voice? What do you think? I told you Grace, Powers are everywhere.”

Inside the shop, amid more than a few grunts, Vector unlocked the large door and attempted to pull it open. Hearing the old man struggle, Ben used his superhuman strength to push the door open the rest of the way.

“Thank you, thank you, young man. I really need to work on that thing but I never do seem to find the time.” Vector was stooped over his cane but, upon seeing Grace, attempted to straighten himself, notwithstanding the physical impossibility of his effort. “Welcome to my shop, Your Majesty.” Vector swept his arm out in a broad stroke as if he were showcasing a game show prize.

The shop was larger than it looked from the outside. Despite the numerous computers, monitors, and metal gadgets that filled the room and made it look like a high school science lab, it still had a few homey touches. In the far right corner of the room was a small stone fireplace anchored by an old red leather club chair. The chair held a square needlepoint pillow depicting a pheasant and beside the chair was a small table stacked high with books and papers. An ashtray sat on the table to the left of the books and a pipe leaned on its rim with a thin line of smoke disappearing up into the air.

“I hope we aren't interrupting,” Ben said, eyeing the still-lit pipe.

“No, no, of course not,” Vector shook his head. “Just studying some charts I pulled from last night. There's something strange going on right outside the fourth quadrant but I'm sure it's nothing.”

“What do you mean ‘strange'?” asked Ben.

Grace immediately tuned into Ben's altered tone.

“Oh, I promise, it's probably nothing more than my paranoia,” Vector said shuffling over to the nearest computer screen. He punched on the keyboard, his crinkled fingers moving faster than expected for such a stooped old man. “See, here,” he pointed to the screen.

A large blue blob filled the computer screen and blurred red images outlined in yellow moved sporadically throughout the blob.

“The red indicates heat,” Vector said. “I just haven't seen this much heat in one area before. It's been accumulating all night.”

“Could it be a herd of deer or something?” Ben asked.

“Maybe. But I don't think so.” Vector pointed to one of the red images on the screen. “See how that thing is moving. Deer don't move like that.” He smiled over at Grace. “But, as I said, I'm sure it's nothing.”

“Do you want me to go check it out?”

“No, son, but thank you. I'll send one of the Triplets to look into it. We'll get their report soon enough.”

Ben feigned a smile at Grace. “I'm sure it's nothing. Like Vector said.”

Grace's eyes smiled back but her hand nervously reached out to clutch Ben's hand behind his back.

“Would you like to see my masterpiece?” Vector asked Grace proudly.

“Sure,” she said hesitantly, her eyes still on Ben.

Vector shuffled over to the largest computer in the room. It hummed warmly and looked as old as a Smithsonian relic. “This,” he beamed, “is what keeps us hidden.”

“How?” Grace asked skeptically.

“Let's just say it makes mountains,” Vector chuckled.

Ben shook his head. “What Vector means to say is it pretends to make mountains. Somehow, only Vector knows how, this invention has hidden the entire Misfit community under a fifteen-mile, translucent covering that, from the outside, looks and feels like one of the many mountaintops filling the Appalachian range. Humans drive and hike all over this covering never knowing there's a whole community under here. The Misfits live inside a mountain that is not really there.”

“The hardest part was making it translucent,” Vector beamed. “But we got it, didn't we young Benjamin?”

Ben nodded. “Vector is pretty proud of that part. Air, sunlight, even rain, filters through the covering as if it were not even there. Makes living here a whole lot easier.”

“Yep,” said Vector. “Sure does. We have everything we need right here. And with the Boulder Triplets guarding the only entrance and someone constantly watching these computer screens, no one gets in or out without me knowing.”

“I told you we'd be safe here.” Ben squeezed Grace's hand and glanced at his watch. “Well, Vector, we better get going. We have another stop to make before we head out to the ball game. Are you going?”

“No, son, I went to the game last night. I need to stay here and keep an eye on my computers so my assistant, Marshall, can make the game today. If you decide to play, the Mentals are going to need all the help they can get, and Marshall is pretty good with a ball. But you all have fun without me and tell Dave I'll see him later,” Vector chuckled, waving Ben and Grace out the door.

“Where are we going?” Grace asked once they were outside.

“You'll see.” Ben bent over. “Now climb on.”

Now accustomed to following Ben's instructions without question, Grace hopped on Ben's back and clutched his chest. She had not noticed the other day, but Ben's chest felt firm, muscular, not at all like she thought it would.

Ben ran his invisible run and instantly they were standing in another part of the forest. Grace looked back but the Misfit community had disappeared.

“Where are we? Are we still under the mountain?” Grace asked as she eased off Ben's back.

“Yeah. Don't worry. We're still hidden if that's what you mean. Come on.” Ben pulled Grace through the trees and up a small hill. They were nearing a clearing when Ben said, “Now close your eyes and no peeking.”

Ben placed his hand over Grace's closed eyes and led her into the clearing. She could feel the sun's warmth on her face and the smell of lilacs filled her lungs.

“Okay. Now open them,” he said, his fingers lightly brushing her cheek as he took his hand away.

Grace blinked and before her stood the most brilliant display of lilacs she had ever seen. She was standing right in the middle of the clearing and everywhere she looked, large clusters of lavender and white flowers, in every shade imaginable, screamed at her. The lilacs encircled the clearing like a halo and had grown so thick and tall, the forest behind them was almost invisible.

“Ben!” she exclaimed. “This is gorgeous!”

“I thought you'd like it,” he beamed. “Aren't lilacs your favorite?”

“Yes,” she breathed. Grace stood there turning in a circle, taking in each flower, each color, and each smell that surrounded her.

“These are magnificent. And they're everywhere! I can't believe a place like this exists.”

“Yeah,” said Ben wistfully, looking around the clearing.

“Why … how did they get here? Are they wild?”

“No. Well, they may be considered wild now, but they didn't start that way. Mom planted them,” Ben quietly answered.

“Your mother? Why was she here? I thought she didn't have any powers? I thought she was from my family?”

“She was and, no, she didn't have any powers like you think. But Dad got special permission from the Council to tell her about the Powers so she got to come with us when we visited Dave. While we were off messing with our Powers, Mom would come up here and doodle and plant and do whatever it is gardeners do.”

“Special permission? So your mom knew about me … about my family?”

“Yes. Not to sound sexist, but Dad argued to the Council that he and his two sons would not know what to do with you, a girl. So the Council let Dad tell Mom so, you know, she could help with you.”

“You make me sound like a project.”

“Well, for my family, you were … are … kind of.”

“Thanks.” Grace rolled her eyes.

Ben playfully elbowed her. “Gracie, my parents loved you like a daughter and you know it.”

“I know. But why lilacs? Why did your mom plant all these lilacs?”

Ben's eyes softened then. “Because they were her favorites … and yours.” He shuffled his feet and stared down at the thick grass blanketing the ground below. He felt Grace move closer and his heart stopped. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he just could not bring himself to say the words.

But he didn't have to.

Ben looked up just as Grace's arms were reaching around his neck. Her closeness was dangerous now, he knew it, but he didn't stop her. She pressed her body against his and he felt her breath on his neck when she said, “Thank you. They're beautiful.”

“You're welcome,” he whispered in her ear.

They stood there in silence for a long time, breathing in their embrace, their arms wrapped tightly around each other for no reason at all. Finally, without forewarning or permission, Grace's head turned. Her lips lightly brushed against his cheek before they softly started to make their way down Ben's face toward his waiting lips. Her arms wrapped tighter around him the closer her lips got to his and Ben knew he was about to experience the first kiss he had waited so long to savor.

The first kiss he was forbidden to experience.

The first kiss that belonged to his brother, Tom.

The first kiss he needed to end before it even began.

“No.” Ben softly shook off Grace's lips and pulled her arms away from his neck. “Gracie, I can't,” he murmured.