Our Picket-Fenced Illusions

[Jacob Foley]

9:30am

Jake woke with a start and a sharp intake of breath. The grating electronic buzz of an alarm clock pierced his dreams and flooded his hazy attic bedroom. He mashed the buttons under his palm until the infernal racket died. In the sudden silence, he released his breath and sunk back into the pillow. Overhead, the garish day plunged in through the skylight and, to counter it, Jake slotted his palm heels firmly against his eyes. He turned irritably, feeling the cool damp of sweat-soaked sheets sucking at his back, and cursed the day.

9:35am

The alarm bleated again. Jake scrambled out of bed, tearing the sheets off with him, and pitched the clock into the wall. Plastic chips showered the floor and what remained fell onto the matress with a sprightly bounce. Now fully awake, Jake pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and marched to the bathroom. He splashed himself with cold water, applying it to his face and neck like aftershave before shaking it off like a dog and speckling the mirror with shimmering droplets. He took a moment to inspect himself; his hair was a mess, he was pale and had lost weight. His body was lean and unremarkable, except for his upper torso which was a canvas of colourful art. A golden koi fish cascaded from his left shoulder into a rippling azure pool peppered with swirling crimson lotus flowers. Jamie liked to make that one swim the length of his arm then leap into his belly button. His face softened and he retreated downstairs.

The house was still. Anna had taken the kids to school and had made plans to have brunch with a young mutant couple wishing to foster a child of their own. She was building for herself quite a positive reputation amongst the mutant community and Jake couldn't decide which he felt more: pride or concern. Aidan was working today, the thought of which burned Jake a little, since he hadn't been able to pay his sister rent in six weeks. Still between jobs, it was his intention to help Apollos with some work today, as to what exactly, he wasn't sure. He traipsed across to the fridge and retrieved from it a half-empty carton of orange juice. He drank from it in large gulps, and collapsed lazily against the sink, the warm daylight from the kitchen window greeted his bare back and a cool breeze from the open back door kissed his clammy skin. He stiffened, and called out.

"Apollos?"

[Feral]

Feral called from the newly built porch. "Hey Jacob. You ready to lend me a hand today?"

Feral--or rather, Apollos as he was known to the House residents--was yet again busy with a project to improve the house. Today it was a picket fence.

The wood was all laid out in the yard-thicker posts to be put in the ground for support and strength, long pieces to go from one post to the next, and the decorative boards to go in between.

According to Feral's measurements there would be five of the decorative boards between the posts. It turned out to be quite a bit of material. But Feral was confident, as always, that he could finish the project before the day was out. The posts, in fact, had already been sunk. Because he hd to pour concrete around the posts to make them stay better, he chose to take care of that days before. Now all that that was left was to set up the rest of the fence.

"Doing ok this morning? I heard a loud noise come from your room."

Feral went in to where he heard Jake's voice. "Good, you're dressed. Get some shoes on and we'll start."

Jake looked like he was underfeat and a little scrawny. The work would do well for him and add some muscle and definition to his body. "We have a lot to do today. First you're going to help me put the fence up, then while I'm building the gate, I want you to start painting. Sound good?"

[Jacob Foley]

"You started already?" he asked, glancing through the window at the arranged wooden posts.

Jake sometimes wondered where Apollos got the energy from since he always seemed to be doing something. He was a very pro-active man, much like his own adoptive father, and just the sight of his lightly glistening brow was enough to make the sloth in him quiver. He finished off the orange juice carton and binned it.

"I'm game for anything today, once I wake up," he said groggily, glancing down at himself, "Let me get dressed and we can start... or we can re-start since you've already... started..."

He mumbled wearily as he skulked out of the kitchen, "Oh, and my name's Jake. How many times, man? God damn..."

[Feral]

Feral smiled and scratched the back of his head. "It's your given name. I'll do better on trying to call you Jake, since you prefer it."

Jacob. The Usurper, in the Hebrew. Jacob was a crafty person who cheated his brother out of his inheritance, his father-in-law out of a fortune in sheep, wrestled God and lived. Quite a man. Feral was not much for Christianity, but the stories from its holy book were sometimes amazing.

"I started the posts yesterday. I needed the concrete to set. It was very wet and needed a good long time to dry. The wetter concrete is and the longer it takes to set, the stronger it is. I've filled the holes in already this morning."

Feral waved Jacob up the stairs. "I hope you wake up, fast Jake. You're going to need to be very alert and attentive to detail for this job."

[Jacob Foley]

He even sounded like his padre, Jake thought grimly as he disappeared upstairs. Once dressed, he returned to the kitchen and appeared in the doorway looking over the back garden. On the patio, Apollos was inspecting and recounting the pieces of wood lined out before him. Jake folded his arms and grinned.

"Did you get Anna's blessing for this?"

[Feral]

Feral's brow knit up as he considered Jake's question. "I think so. I had her give me a list of projects that she cleared for me to do."

He started to check his pockets, but came up with nothing. "I think it's in my truck. But she didn't scream about the posts yesterday, so I figure I'm ok."

Apollos reached for the first long plank and motioned for Jake to get the other end. "Ok, Jake, here's the deal. These planks are long enough to cover three posts. In between each post we're going to nail down five of the short decorative boards. It's very important that this plank is level. Otherwise, the other planks won't line up right and neither will the other boards."

Feral pointed at the far corner on the left of the house. "We're going to start there. The level is already over there. Now you can choose what you want to do. Hold the plank level while I nail it down, or nail the plank while I hold it level. But you're going to have to make sure the bubble is in between the two black lines, ok?"

[Jacob Foley]

"I know how a spirit level works," he said, amused.

Some time ago, Jake had come to a decision concerning Apollos. It was easy to take offense to what could be percieved as his condescending nature but it didn't take a psychic to realise that his intentions towards the house and its residents were sincere. If anything, Jake figured, it was simply an absence of tact. Now he took it in his stride; he laughed it off when he found himself being instructed in something he'd known since before high school and he particularly laughed it off when Anna threw a hissy fit over it. He stepped out and helped him with the plank.

"If it's all the same, I'll do the hammering. I don't have the steadiest of hands."

They manouvered the plank until it was in place along the length of three posts. On the floor, there was a tool box containing, amongst myriad other things, nails and a hammer. They eased the wood down and Jake retrieved the tools. It was a perfect day for this kind of work, the sky was clear but the sun wasn't baking them in their skins. While Apollos kept the wood still, Jake crouched at the first post, positioned a nail and poised the hammer over it. He glanced back, his face creased in the early light cresting over the roof of the house.

"How's that?"

[Feral]

Feral smiled. "That's good. once we finish with this one, we'll do a second one to make it stable. Then we'll move right on down the line."

The second board went on quickly. Jacob was certainly moving quickly. The energy of youth. Feral was very proud of Jacob. Jake had a lot of good qualities and tons more potential. Feral felt for him like he was his own son or younger brother.

"So, how is life?" Feral asked as they moved down to the next set. Feral set up the board and let Jake instruct him on how to hold it steady. "Any luck in finding work?"

[Jacob Foley]

"Like hell," he muttered darkly, "The job market isn't very accomodating for mutants with a criminal record. Mother... fucker!"

He hissed angrily through his teeth, stood, and nursed his aching thumb. Sticking out of the wooden beam there was a crooked nail and the contents of the toolbox rattled when the hammer fell into it. Jake stood rigid, fighting off a strong urge to break the plank in two under his foot. Instead, he lashed out verbally.

"So because I'm clinically unemployable I'm forced to hang around at home doing this shit!"

A moment passed between them in which only his rattling breaths could be heard. His shoulders slumped and he turned to Apollos looking like an infant caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Look, I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean that."

[Feral]

Apollos shrugged. "You are right to get mad. You have incredible odds stacked against you and all you want to do is survive."

The older mutant expertly held the beam up with his foot and set the nails straight. He finished the board himself while he gave himself time to consider his next several words. He was quickly learning that around Redencion House, he needed to be careful about his tone, words, and intentions. Apparently he was easily misread.

"You are not clinically unemployable," he said at last. "You have a great many talents and skills that you have yet to tap into. As for your criminal record, I was not aware that you had at one point in your life you were at odds with the law."

Apollos set up the next board and gave his next question some consideration. "So, what are your skills and knowledge sets? Include the skills you developed during your life of crime. Leave nothing out. Yes, being a criminal is a dark mark on your record and your life. But you must own it. It is a part of you. We all have darkness that we must embrace and own if we are to do much about it or with it."

Feral set up the board and nailed it to the middle post so it could rotate on the nail. "So, your skills."

[Jacob Foley]

While Apollos worked, Jake watched him and listened, gradually his tension evaporated, leaving him feeling sheepish to be standing around doing nothing. He approached Apollos and retrieved the hammer. Returning to his duties, Jake noted the tone in his voice when he asked for a briefing on his skills, and suddenly he felt like he was at another job interview. The familiar prickly heat crawled up his neck.

"I play guitar," he said indifferently, then forced himself to think about the question. Bang went a nail.

"I... can drive," he began, "I speak Spanish. I aced Spanish at school, it was the only subject I was good at, other than music. Psychology and history were interesting but I was never any good at them."

That board finished, they strolled around the side of the house to retrieve another length of wood from the garden. The neighbourhood was uncharacteristically peaceful and the only sound to be heard was the gentle rustling of the trees in the garden next door. Jake found himself increasingly at ease with the topic of conversation, Apollos hadn't spoken at all, he just listened and put no pressure on him to answer. He continued as they guided another plank out front, allowing his gaze to float to a couple of young women on the opposite side of the street.

"I enjoy working with people, I know it's the sort of thing you're expected to tell an employer but I do, I like the company of others. Even kids," he added, as they settled down to position the board.

"Since Jamie came to live with us, I've started to enjoy being around kids, they have a funny way about them, you know, help take your mind off things. And I love Jamie, she's the best, and she's so smart. It's got me thinking..."

He hesitated, feeling like he'd just reached the precipice of an uncomfortable confession, Apollos looked up and he saw no way of back-tracking. He shrugged, and buried another nail in the wood.

"About education, you know, maybe it's not too late."

He glanced across at his fellow mutant, and housemate, and presently acting careers confidant, and asked, "What do you think?"

[Feral]

"I think education is a wonderful idea, and I think it is something you could do well at."

Apollos set up the board. "Guitar, Spanish, and driving. A love of being around people. These are good things to have. And let's not forget your gift. You are a telepath, which gives you an edge around people."

The board was set and nailed down, then the second one went on after. It was taking several trips, but they were already making good headway around the house.

"Bearing these things in mind, what sort of career would you want? Especially your joy of working with kids. There is teaching to be considered. Your love of music and Spanish might make you a good fit to teach those subjects. But what do you want from an education?"

[Jacob Foley]

"I couldn't be a teacher," he said, amused by the idea, having barely scraped through school the first time around.

"A job that makes me feel like I'm doing something. Making a difference, like Anna, changing things. First of all, I just want the brains to back it up. There are all kinds of night schools and courses for adults, right? I can make up for lost time if I get in on that."

The constant contact with the wood was starting to dry out his palms and callous his hands, he liked it, it felt like justification. Apollos was busy testing the sturdiness of the fence.

"What did you want to do before you came over here, man? Did you have a career?"

[Feral]

The fence was doing well.

"Before I came here, I was a carpenter. I did a lot of work with wood, building tables, chairs, cabinets, stools. I crafted plain objects for heavy use and I made intricate fine things for wealthier people. Most of the pieces were made special, so I had to carve out the wood to make the shapes and cut out the patterns and things myself."

They were making good progress.

"I also learned other handyman things for when work was slow. That's how I know how to fix pipes and build decks, fences, and things of that nature."

Feral brought over several planks over his left shoulder and they continued to work. "You talk about a job where you feel like you are doing something? Nothing gives that satisfaction more than work like this. It might not feel like we have been at this long, but look behind you: From where we started we have already reached the first corner. We have accomplished quite a bit."

Apollos felt very proud. "The work is hard, but it builds muscles and toughens your hands. Sometimes the hours are long, but there is no feeling at all like being able to see for a fact that you earned your keep that day."

[Jacob Foley]

"I should've guessed you were a carpenter," Jake said, grinning.

Manual labour was always particularly taxing to him, he wasn't unfit but he certainly didn't train to keep himself in good shape. His habits didn't help, he thought, noticing the broad bulk of Apollos's chest and the tight ripples in his upper arms. He thust his hands into his pockets.

"Something tells me I'm not cut out to be a handyman," he said, then quickly added, "Not that I don't enjoy this. I do, but I can't see myself on a construction site; laying bricks, sawing wood, giving it the whole plumber ass, you know?"

He laughed, rocking back and forth on his feet. They had paused for a moment, and he was thankful for it, already feeling the sticky damp of sweat on his brow. Nestled behind his ear was a finely rolled joint, he plucked it out and lit it poised between his lips.

"Can you see yourself taking it up again? I mean other than tearing up Anna's porches and doors?" he asked, gesturing around at the house with the glowing spliff, before offering it to him.

[Feral]

Feral wrinkled his nose at Jake's joint. "I can see why you would think that."

He made an effort not to lecture Jake on that particular bad habit. He didn't seem to do it around Jamie and he kept most of it to himself. Still, if police were to show up at the house with a search warrant, anything Jake might be keeping stashed away could lead to a lot of trouble. After all, the house used to belong to a drug lord.

"I wouldn't mind working as a carpenter again," he said after a long pause. "Go somewhere else with that until you're finished," he added. "The smell makes me sick."

[Jacob Foley]

Jake froze, then removed the roach from his lips, eyeing Apollos warily. A plume of smoke jetted upwards out of his mouth. There was a silence between them for the briefest of moments before he snuffed the lit end between his thumb and forefinger then returned his attention to Apollos.

"You like Anna," he said, it wasn't a question.

[Feral]

Feral was glad that Jake had put the joint out, but didn't appreciate the change of subject. "That was sudden."

He motioned for the younger mutant to continue the work on the fence as he decided how to answer the telepath's question. "Of course I do," he said at last.

Apollos decided he didn't need to set any qualifiers or reasons on that statement. He did not have to answer to anyone, particularly Jacob, about anything he said, thought, felt, or did. He was confident in himself and his ability. He would not be made to regret anything.

Still, he wondered if Jake was planning on giving him trouble over this. As long as work got done, he would be ok.

[Jacob Foley]

"No, you really like Anna," he said, annoyed that Apollos had excused himself, and turned on the spot to keep him in sight.

"And I want to know your intentions."

[Feral]

Feral put every thing down and stood to his full height. "Ok."

Feral took a deep breath and looked at Jacob squarely. He locked eyes with the young man and did not once waver. "Your sister is the single most incredible woman I have ever met. She is beautiful, but more than that it is her spirit and her energy that I love. She works tirelessly to make this house available to mutants and give them sanctuary and rest. Though she worries about where the money will come from, she works her hardest to see to it that no mutant ever, ever gets turned away from her doorstep."

Feral got closer to Jacob. "She knows what she wants and she knows no limits in accomplishing her goals. She has ambition and desire to see that the world to any extent is changed for the betterment of an oppressed people. I cannot help but find her fascinating. She holds me riveted with how she manages to accomplish all these things and I want to be a part of that--to any degree at all."

Feral set his jaw and squared his shoulders. "My intentions for your sister are good. I want to be a part of her life and a part of her work. And even now, as we are, I am happy. Just to know her and work with her has been far greater an honor and a privilege than anything I have ever known in my life and in all my travels."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Have I satisfied you, Jacob?"

[Jacob Foley]

"No, you haven't, Feral."

[Feral]

Feral flushed with anger. "You play with me?" He snarled. "Why do you ask when you are pulling all the information you want from my mind? Do not play at asking for information when you plan to take what you want anyway."

Still, he did not lay a hand on Jacob. "She is matronly. She cares. She really does. As do I. And I admit, I have entertained ideas of marrying your sister. But you probably already know that."

He knew Jacob's ability would be a danger to him from the start, but he was not so afraid of losing what he had gained so far that he wasn't going to try to have it. Still, he needed to know. "I gather you've been picking through my head since the start. What do you think you know about my intentions?"

[Jacob Foley]

"Nothing, and that's why I asked," he said frankly.

"You're an odd person, I had my doubts about you from the beginning but it wasn't until I noticed you had an interest in my sister that I started poking around up there."

He pointed a finger at Apollos's head, noticing his face flush with anger and he couldn't help but feel a brief glimmer of satisfaction knowing for once he had the upper hand over him. His expression remained nonchalant.

"I got a name and decided to hold off until I confronted you about it. Do you blame me for wanting to protect my family and home?"

[Feral]

"Feral is a name that you will not speak here. It is good you stopped there. I do not blame you at all for keeping watch over the people and things close to you. I do the same. I guard my people very jealously, which is why I am interested in the House."

Feral smiled. He was proud of Jake, but at the same time couldn't keep the ferocious edge out of the expression on his face. "You have nothing at all to fear from me. I want you to understand that fact in its total fullness. Neither you, nor your sister will ever have anything to fear from me, no matter if I'm Apollos or Feral."

He took a step back out of Jacob's face and bent back to the work. Suddenly he was less wild than before and was more like what he was before the confrontation. "Only those that threaten the ones I choose to protect will ever have to fear me."

He picked up the hammer and some nails. "Let's work." He had a lot of rage to work off.

[Jacob Foley]

As he watched Apollos return to the tools, the corners of his mouth curled into a grin of both amusement and relief. If he was decieving him, Apollos was very good at hiding it, and while not wholly purged of his suspicion, Jake was content. Almost.

"Before we get back to work," he began with swelling confidence, "A couple of ground rules. First of all, don't ever presume to tell me what to do. It may be just your way but it pisses me off. Secondly, if Feral is a name not to be spoken here then neither is Jacob."

"Now, Apollos," he said, and fished the unfinished joint from behind his ear, he lit it, "Would you like me to smoke this elsewhere?"

He took a long drag, his way of unwinding differing substantially from his fence-building counterpart, and waited for his response.

[Feral]

"Please," he said with terse voice. "Jake."

Feral was very very angry at Jacob. "You know what will happen to Anna and the House if you keep that kind of thing around here."

Feral drove the nails in quickly, with no more than three strokes per nail. The second board went up just as fast and it was fastened in place with blistering speed.

"I say it as your friend, not as your better. I'm worried that this habit of yours is going to do you more harm than good. I'm only concerned," he said with a grunt as a third board was set, "for your safety and your future. Again, as your friend."

[Jacob Foley]

The relentless pace with which Apollos worked was impressive and while handling the wood, his practiced hands never faltered. Jake watched him impassively through winding wisps of smoke, he leaned against the house next to the trash cans which was far enough to spare Apollos from the sickly sweet smell. Inside he was smiling. He finished the joint and discarded the charred stub into one of the bins.

"I know the health risks," he said, rejoining him in the work, "But imagine this: inside your head is a radio reciever, it's on all the time and sometimes picks up images too. You see murders, rapes, fires, violence, and pain. And the thing is this, you know these things are going to happen and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

He paused and looked him in the eyes, "So what do you do?"

[Feral]

Feral thought over what Jake said. Suddenly he didn't feel angry anymore. But there was that question hanging there, looking for an answer.

"You do what you can," he said at last.

Feral continued to work at the fast pace, allowing Jake to simply hand him materials as he needed them.

"When these things happen to you, Jake, can you tell if they are happening in that moment, or are they future events?"

[Jacob Foley]

"The visions are always of the future," he answered, then took a moment to elaborate.

"They don't play out in my head like a scene from a movie but more like a collage of images, sounds, and impressions. I have worked out though that the closer a vision is to the present and closer to me in terms of distance, the images gain clarity."

He helped hold a board steady and double-checked the green bubble on the spirit level.

"It's a curse."

[Feral]

Feral nailed the board.

"It's not a curse," Feral said emphatically. "Your power is not ever a curse. It's just wild. Unfocused. If you can control it, you can be quite powerful. You can keep danger from the House before it even arrives. You can even stop most of the crime that happens in this neighborhood. With your ability to see future events, you could even be unstoppable in a fight provided you could always keep a sharp eye on the enemy's next move."

He chuckled. "You could be almost omniscient."

[Jacob Foley]

"Do you always see the silver lining, Apollos?" he asked with unmistakeable irritation, he shook his head, incredulous, "I've lived with this all my life. My head is a psychic dumping ground for all the heinous shit that goes on all around us, it's a byproduct of my mutation that can't be controlled, and I've come to terms with that. So please, don't patronise me with that kind of talk."

He dusted his hands and left to retrieve another piece of wood. It was the last of the long boards that needed to go up and then they could begin on the fence. He hefted the wood in his arms then carried it out front.

"This is the last one."

[Feral]

"Already?"

Feral was proud of the progress they made, but it was curbed somewhat by Jake's defeatist attitude towards his powers. Still, Jake wasn't interested, so he wasn't going to press the subject.

"Ok, so once we get this one in, we can work a little separately to make this faster. I have space at the front of the house for a gate. We can start each on a side and work for a while."

They finished the board. "There's boards enough for five to go between the posts. If you place one right next to the post, then put the second one next to that one, you can space them out just fine. Then just keep doing that until the five are set up."

Feral went and got some of the boards. "Like this," he said. He placed two of the boards next to each other so that one of the boards touched the post. He nailed the second board, then took the first once and placed it on the other side of the second one. The third board went next to it and was nailed in place. "You might need an extra board to space the fifth one, but it checks out."

Feral stood and stretched. "You want to go ahead and get started, or shall we stop for a break?"

[Jacob Foley]

"Feeling the burn already, old man?" he asked, a small smile creeping on his face. He straightened up.

"I'll start over there, okay? And I won't ask if you want to race, we both know who'd win."

Then he took off at a jog around the side of the house to retrieve an armful of unpainted pickets. The work was taking his mind off things and even though he said to Apollos they wouldn't race, he suddenly had the urge to complete his half of the fence quicker than the experienced craftsman. Dropping to his knees, he aligned the first board and fumbled for the hammer. He called out across the garden.

"Hey, how much could you charge for doing a job like this?"

[Feral]

Feral decided not to answer Jacob's challenge with words. Instead he simply did his job.

"For this? Oh, maybe a few hundred dollars. the length of the fence, height, materials, and style would change the price. But I would say two hundred dollars would make a good price for a small fence. Most manual labor is unskilled, but for things that require attention, it gets better. As a carpenter I made a lot of money building cabinets."

Feral dashed over to the pile and picked up several planks. He rested them in his arms longways and let them fall on his chest. He took them over to the fence, prepped several nails (held between his teeth) and set up the boards. He was advancing at a quick pace.

"For this fence, I would charge around five hundred because of the size of it. If it was taller and needed more material, I might make it seven."

[Jacob Foley]

"That's not bad," Jake said to himself with an approving nod.

He peered around one of the larger posts and saw that the other half of the fence was coming alonger quicker. Cursing under his breath, he doubled his pace and ran for more wood. There was a healthy sweat on his brow and he could feel cold wet patches under his arms, it was the most excercise he'd had in a while.

"Mi padre works in construction," he said, over the sound of pounding hammers, "He started off as a contractor and now he runs a small business of his own, providing hardware and materials for large sites. My brother Tonio is setting up a sister company in Bilbao. He's doing well for himself."

Two more posts to go, he thought, then he'd have to make another dash to the back garden. The fence would give an entirely new look to the house and the fact that he had a hand in its construction put a smile on his face. He wondered what Anna would say and was reminded of his school days, shortly after his adoption, when he ran home with bright paintings of his new family all stood holding hands outside his new home with a sun smiling above and a white picket fence below.

"Do you still keep in touch with your family?"

[Feral]

"No," Feral said. "I don't have any family."

The boards went up and he couldn't help but be amused at Jake's attempt to keep with his pace.

"My family disowned me when my powers manifested. There's a lot that happened during that time that keeps me from going home to where I grew up."

[Jacob Foley]

"Sorry, I knew you lost a lot on account of your mutancy, I didn't realise that included your family as well. Do you suppose there's a single mutant out there with a happy history?"

It was a rhetorical question. They both worked vigorously at the fence and between the cracking of metal and knocking of wood, there was steady panting. The last of the five boards up, Jake stood, wiped his brow, then retreated to the garden to collect another bundle of pickets. He stopped dead in his tracks, caught in the shade halfway between the front and back of the house, there was a stranger in the garden staring at him.

"Who-"

There was a rush of air to his left and he turned in time to see a second stranger bear down on him from the fence separating the neighbouring houses. He gasped as he was pushed against the wall, the air rushing out of him from the force of the blow, and he heard the footsteps of the other youth closing in. The assault was fast and brutal; the sound of scuffing shoes and rattling grunts, quick flailing desperation, groping at clothes, and the deep smacking of relentless body blows. Jake collapsed to the floor, his arms took the kicks instead of his head, he called out.

"Apoll-" he was silenced by a boot to the gut.

[Feral]

Feral heard a sound he was well familiar with: someone getting beaten.

He jumped over the fence and into the garden where three gang members had Jake pressed against a wall and were beating him senseless. Feral grew spikes and blades along his hands and forearms and lunged. He tore the gang members off of Jake and sliced one of them along the chest. The sight of the youth's blood nearly caused him to fly into a rage.

Luckily Feral was still aware enough of the situation that he held back. The gang members broke away and ran off out of the yard and down the street.

"I don't know what they were thinking, but they will think twice or more about coming onto this property. Jake, are you all right? Nothing broken?"

[Jacob Foley]

"I'm- I'm alright," he said, shaken.

He sat upright and fought for breath, clutching his side. His body ached but was undamaged, the attack ended as quickly as it had begun. In the street there was the angry sound of an overworked engine, a silver Ford Taurus raced past with one of his attackers leaning out of the window, he shouted to them.

"Hey hombre, take that message back to your La Raza homeboys!"

Then they were gone. Jake winced and buried his head between his legs while the dizziness subsided.

"Thanks, man."

[Feral]

Feral pulled back the exposed bones and nodded. "Not a problem."

He stood next to Jake for a moment while the younger man recovered. "You sure we don't need to make a trip to the hospital? Apparently they think you're a member of something called La Raza? What are they?"

[Jacob Foley]

"I don't know. A local gang, I think."

Slowly, he climbed to his feet, declining help from Apollos. It was a miracle his clothes were unscathed, he thought, dusting himself off.

"Last I heard," he said, rubbing the back of his head, "They were led by a mutant."

He shrugged, "Guilty by association, I guess."

[Feral]

Feral nodded, but still wasn't sure. "Ok. But don't most gang members around here wear something to show that they belong to the gang? A particular color or a tattoo? You're not wearing any of that, are you?"

Still they were gone. That was more important. Still, it irked him that they would show up. "Have you been talking to anyone from this La Raza gang?"

[Jacob Foley]

"What? No!" he blurted immediately, his face scrunched with disbelief, "Why would I want to have anything to do with a gang?"

He turned away and headed for the garden with a slight limp.

[Feral]

Feral raised an eyebrow. "Well, if that's not an interesting thing to say," he muttered to himself.

He followed the younger mutant into the garden and considered him carefully. "Jake, I know about your sister's run-in with the 311's a few days ago. Now I need you to be honest. Did you go try to take some sort of revenge on that gang?"

Under normal circumstances, Feral would be offering to help slaughter the bunch of filthy normals, but that was not his place or personality here. He was far more interested in preserving the house and keeping its residents safe than aggressively destroying humans where they lived.

"It's ok if you did. I think I would have too if I knew where they were."

[Jacob Foley]

Jake froze. He kept his back to Apollos but made no move to collect the pickets, instead his fists clenched at his sides. He took a deep breath.

"Apollos," he said through gritted teeth, his voice strained, "You're talking shit. Now drop it."

[Feral]

"Not until I understand just what exactly caused those guys to come onto this property and attack you in broad daylight. I won't have them stepping into this yard as they please to hurt the people who live here."

Feral's fists were likewise clenched and his voice got low. "Jake, for the sake of the people who live here, I need you to swallow your pride and admit to me what's gotten these people thinking you're part of a mutant gang. We need to take steps to see to it that they don't view this safe house as a gang den."

[Jacob Foley]

"This has nothing to do with you, Apollos!" he spat, wheeling about to face him. He closed the gap between them rapidly.

"You don't know what you're talking about, man, no-one's in danger. No-one's going to get hurt. No-one."

They were so close he could feel the heat of the Greek's breath on his neck. His eyes bore into him.

"I look after my family."

[Feral]

"Doesn't it?" Apollos replied. "They might not be my family, but they are my friends and I care about them very very much."

Apollos straightened up a little more and squared his shoulders. "Now on that point we have more in common than anything. Two men trying to protect people they care about."

He was trying to stay nice, but Jake's exclusionary attitude was grating on Feral very quickly. "How are you taking care of your family? Are you making use of your gift to prepare ahead of time? Are you out playing vigilante and taking down hostiles where they're at? What are you doing?"

Feral folded his arms across his chest in an effort to press Jake against the house wall again. "I'm not here to judge you. You have nothing to be ashamed of in telling me what went on to make you a target of this gang. If I can, I will help you take care of this problem. But I need to know the background details first."

[Jacob Foley]

"Who do you think you're talking to?" he asked with sneering revulsion, "You're ever the fucking father figure, aren't you?"

Glancing skywards to catch his breath, he snorted, then his wild eyes regarded Apollos once more. He reached a decision and nodded.

"Okay. Okay. I went to them. La Raza. I spoke with their leader and those Three Elevens bastards saw me. It's on my head and I don't owe you a goddamn explanation."

The wall pressed against his back and he tensed, feeling trapped and unable to exorcise the inexplicable rage he felt expanding from within. He surged forward and went nose-to-nose with him.

"It. Has. Nothing. To. Do. With. You!"

[Feral]

Feral's face was tight with anger. Inside he felt proud that Jake could face him and stand for his actions. He only wished that Jake had been able to do that with his family's protection.

"I am not playing at being anyone's father. Especially not yours. But if you think I visit this house to put it back together and lecture everyone on what to do, then I won't disappoint your expectations. You want to get mad at me about holding you accountable for your actions, then you do that. But I've been where you are. I learned a long time ago to watch out for my own. And one thing I have never ever done is left my problems to people beneath myself."

Feral pressed Jake to the wall with the palm of his hand. "These La Raza guys aren't much better than the Three Elevens, only that they are mutants. What happens when La Raza comes knocking and decides to eat you and yours out of house and home because you owe them for the favor of kicking that other gang off your streets? What will you do about them then?"

It was Feral's turn to sneer. "I have always seen in you a great potential for leadership. You see the big picture. You know the needs of the people under your wing and you take steps to accomplish that. You're certainly brave. But I have never in my life seen anyone who acts as hastily as you. Did you think through that decision to go to La Raza? Did you follow it to every last conclusion?"

Feral took his hand of Jake's chest. "You're right. It has nothing to do wit me, and I won't be getting involved. But if you don't play your cards very very carefully, things will get much worse before they get better. And in the event that things unfold as I have told you, I will not say a word to you. No 'I told you so,' or judgemental chiding. I'll just clean up your mess and let you go back to whatever it is you do."

Feral saw the rage in Jake's eyes and expected the younger man to hit him at any moment. Jake did not like criticism and did not take any sort of advice well. "I'm going to let you learn on your own. My mouth is shut and I wash my hands of this gang warfare. You want to handle this on your own, so you got it."

[Jacob Foley]

Jake hesitated. Air hissed through his teeth and his shoulders rose and fell with every breath he drew. His lips clamped as though about to form a word but instead he closed his eyes, his red face contorted and his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Then he released, a pained exclamation issued forth from his lips and he shoved his way past Apollos.

"I'm... taking a break," he said, his voice ragged, "You carry on."

He disappeared inside the house and quickly enough came the sound of the soft roll of feet ascending the staircase within. All was still.

[Feral]

Feral finished the rest of the fence in time for lunch like he planned. He installed the gate last and went to his truck. In his truck was a rented paint sprayer and several gallons of white paint. Not even he was going to paint the whole fence by hand. It wasn't the Karate Kid. He needed the job done and fast. He wanted the fence finished by the time Anna got home.

He was still angry at Jake when he pulled the sprayer from the bed of the truck. Even so, he couldn't help feeling that perhaps he had been too harsh.

It was time to eat. Feral left the machine by the place he wanted to start and went inside the house. Never one to eat Anna's food without an express invitation, he found the paper bag with the food he brought for lunch.

He had bought enough for Jake to eat as well. He wondered if Jake would still want to eat with him after what happened. He set out the food--mostly sandwich materials--and went up the stairs to where Jake's room was located in the attic.

Apollos knocked on the door. "Jake? I finished the fence. Was going to have lunch before I got to the second step. Did you want to eat? I brought some food to make sandwiches."

[Jacob Foley]

Underwater, his cries bubbled furiously past his face until he ran out of breath. The surface of the water became still and with the cold biting at his skin, Jake's anger subsided. He surfaced for air, panting at first, then he sighed and rested his forehead against the hard ceramic edge of the sink. He listened to his breathing as it steadied and mulled over what had transpired in the garden.

Rage had blinded him and he was unable to recall half the things he'd said or done. He cast his mind back in an attempt to recall what had made him so angry in the first place. His body ached from the attack but it wasn't that; he and Aidan had both come to terms with the ramifications of their decision before leaving the house for their first meeting with Pedro Calaveras. He slumped down on the toilet seat and rubbed his head with a towel. In the dark, he suddenly recalled getting right into Apollos's face.

"Jesus..." he muttered to himself, grimacing, "You wanted him to hit you."

It was true, he remembered now, if only Apollos had raised a hand to him in anger and struck him down, everything he suspected about him would've been confirmed. He had been so sure he could've provoked an act of violence out of him, and he had been wrong. Even now it pained him to accept it. There was something else, too. Everything Apollos had said, everything about the gangs and the danger the house was in and even the things he'd said about Jake and his hasty decision making, it was all true. That was it: Apollos was right and he was wrong.

"Greek son of a bitch!" he grunted, tossing the towel away.

He recalled his excuse for leaving, about needing to take a break, and silently chided himself for it. Even in his own company he flushed with hot embarassment. Finally, he'd allowed Apollos to lecture him and walked away without throwing a single punch. He was a coward. He was stupid and wrong. He stood and left the bathroom. Apollos was on the landing with an armful of food.

"Wh- what are you doing?" he asked, puzzled.

[Feral]

Apollos turned towards the bathroom door as Jake emerged. "Oh, there you are."

He gestured with the sandwich meats and the loaves of bread he bought. "I was about to make lunch. I brought some really good stuff. Some high quality meats and cheeses, fresh tomatoes, onions, lettuce, some green peppers. Lots of good stuff. You want some? I got ham, turkey, Swiss, provolone. You interested?"

He wasn't sure how angry Jacob still was, but he was starting to calm down and was ready to continue with the day. As angry and wild as Feral could be, he never really held grudges. The moment had passed, now things needed to be normal.

[Jacob Foley]

Jake watched Apollos intently while he divulged a long list of sandwich fillers, he was curious and a little apprehensive as if he expected some sort of punchline to follow, but it didn't. His thumbs hooked the belt hoops on his jeans, his back arched and he considered Apollos with a look of distant scrutiny. He couldn't hold it. He snorted with amusement and glanced down at the floor, feeling a little sheepish.

"Yeah, um, sure thing, um..." he muttered, trying to supress a grin, and nudged his bedroom door open, "Wanna chill in my room?"

[Feral]

Feral nodded and handed some of the things he had with him still. "I don't really know why I brought all this upstairs. Let me get the vegetables, a cutting board, and a knife and we can make them in your room."

It did not take him long to gather what he needed and return to Jake's room. He had never been into the younger mutant's room before out of respect for his space. It was a good feeling to be invited in.

[Jacob Foley]

The ceiling of Jake's room sloped away from the door. Twin columns of hazy light plunged inside from windows in the roof, giving the bedroom a warm albeit dusty atmosphere. The floorboards were smooth and shimmered with varnish and in the middle of the floor was a large worn rug full of faded Aztec patterns. The bed was located in the corner of the room where there ceiling was at it's highest, it was unmade and still peppered with the remnants of an alarm clock.

"Just put them over there," Jake said, motioning to a desk where he'd already set down some of the items he'd been given. He shook his head, grinning at the sight of Apollos cradling the cutting board, and returned his attention to a tank of tropical fish. He dropped flakes of food on the rippling water and watched them surface and dive in a flurry of colour.

There were posters on the two flat walls all around the bed, some of bands like The Smiths, one of Johnny Cash and Bob Marley, then there was one of Goldfrapp, a black and white Tori Amos, and a full colour Halle Berry in hotpants. Kings of Leon played softly through four speakers dotted about the room. There was no television, no computer, and very few books in sight. A black Martin D-35 acoustic guitar rested against the nightstand.

"This looks good," he said, eyeing the food, his stomach growled, "And not a moment too soon."

[Feral]

Feral nodded, drew two long blades from his fingertips and cut the onion and tomato. "Your room might smell a bit strongly of onion for a while."

He started setting up a sandwich. "Oh, in that bag should also be some mustard and mayonnaise. Get those."

Feral took a moment to look over Jake's room. The women and the musicians were no surprise to him, but the fish were totally unexpected. "Tell me about the fish in the aquarium."

[Jacob Foley]

"Hm?"

Jake gave Apollos a surprised sideways glance, he sounded like a school teacher. Dropping the puzzled look, Jake straightened himself and left Apollos to the sandwiches, returning to the tank. It stood in the darkest corner of the room, the walls slanted around it, and at four feet long it gave off plenty of its own light.

A layer of stones covered the floor of the aquarium, upon which sat larger rocks, giving the fish plenty of nooks and cavities to hide inside, bubbles trickled to the surface from the filtration outflow, long blades of hairgrass sprouted out of the stones and other emerald plants wound their way to the top of the tank. A clownfish weaved through the greenery into the open, Jake pointed at it.

"Scotty," he said, then turned to Apollos with a smile, "Not Nemo."

Drifting past the clownfish was a small flatfish, it had a dark blue body with an electric blue rim and verticle orange stripes on its side. He gently tapped the glass, catching Apollos's attention.

"She's a Coral Beauty, I call her Uhura, and you're probably beginning to see a theme emerging. There's Spock, he's a Longnose Hawkfish. Then, of course, we have Kirk..."

A striking colourful fish emerged from behind one of the large rocks, it flushed hot magenta from its head through shades of violet until it became a bold yellow hue at the tail.

"Kirk is a Royal Gramma, which seems fitting, and the other one you'll see hovering around is McCoy, he's a Doctorfish."

Jake shrugged off the geekiness of it all, grinning at Apollos, and to clarify, he added, "It was my favourite show as a kid."

[Feral]

"I see."

Apollos didn't see, but he decided to just go with it. Jake enjoyed his fish and that television show, whatever it was. He would look into what that show was later.

"You mentioned the guitar outside. How long have you been playing it?"

Apollos was musically inclined only in his voice. He had a rich baritone singing voice that was the envy of the people in the choir back in Greece. Some people suggested he take lessons, but Apollos had been too busy trying to save money to get married at the time. He wondered if marriage would ever become a priority for him again. But in the meantime it was enough to just to love Anna from afar and spend quality time with the House people.

"This is quite a room you have. Does it temperature well? Uh, that is, does it stay hot or cold along with the rest of the house, or are you more subject to the weather outside?"

[Jacob Foley]

"This place houses between eight and twenty people at a time. Heat rises," he said, gesturing haphazardly at the roof, "I keep the windows open whenever it's not raining otherwise this room becomes a sauna."

The sandwiches made, he turned away from the desk and retreated to his bed. First his shoes came off then he sat amongst the creased sheets and scattered pillows, tucking into his lunch.

"I've played guitar since I was eleven, my dad introduced me to it, he's an excellent guitar player. Look, this feels like an interview or something, it's your turn. Quid pro quo. What did you do after you realised you were a mutant? Did you come straight to America?"

[Feral]

"No, I've only been in America for a few months. I spent several years after the development of my powers traveling across Europe. Thanks to the EU, it was made much easier. I took jobs where I could and generally just tried to survive."

Survive was putting it mildly. He learned to spot empty houses, abandoned buildings, vacant apartments, spare flats, and other places to sleep. He also began his systematic destruction of normal people somewhere after that. With his knack for keeping a low profile he was never actually caught. Also he could change his face by adjusting the bones there so he looked different.

"I met a few mutants along the way, helped them as I could and then tried to make sure they were in good situations when I moved on."

[Jacob Foley]

"The Good Samaritan," Jake said idly, recalling an old story from school. He met Apollos's gaze.

"Do you believe in all that 'helping your neighbour' crap?" he hesitated, realising how harsh it sounded, then added, "I mean, you see what Anna does and you have also helped other mutants. Are we expected to come to the rescue of our own? Where does the charity end? We now have that normal dude, Cameron, living under our roof. When he found out we were mutants, Anna said he was afraid it was contagious. Contagious! I don't know how I feel about sharing my home with people like that."

[Feral]

"Actually, I do believe in helping my neighbor. Especially my mutant neighbors. Not many of them have the courage to face themselves and the world and love themselves for who they are despite what others think. It's important that they come to learn their true identity and their place in the world."

Feral's nose wrinkled at the mention of Cameron. "I have not met him yet." then he chuckled. "Were that mutancy were contagious. If everyone were mutants, life might be much simpler."

Apollos dug into his sandwich. Such a delicious combination of fresh vegetables, meats, and cheeses! He swallowed and shrugged. "If he doesn't cause a problem and makes himself useful, I suppose it would not be that bad if he stayed. Maybe he'll gain some valuable insight and appreciation for mutantkind."

[Jacob Foley]

"Hmph! I don't think I care much for turning this place into a rehabilitation centre for people with mutant prejudice. This isn't a damn petri dish!"

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, dusting his hands free of crumbs. Apollos was still eating but he'd had enough of the conversation and would rather get some air. He gathered up the things which didn't belong in his room and headed for the door.

"I'm done here. Do me a favour and turn off the music when you're finished. And thanks for the lunch, man."

Then with that, he slipped out of the room and disappeared downstairs.

[Feral]

Feral nodded. He immediately got up, turned off the music, and took his sandwich downstairs.

"You know," he said, "I didn't mean to imply that your sister was turning the house into some kind of immersion therapy for normal people. I only pointed out the possible benefits of Cameron's stay at the house. You know all your sister saw in him was someone who needed help."

[Jacob Foley]

"There's no need to explain," he said, setting the assortment of plates a cutlery down with an unruly clatter, "I'd just lost interest in the discussion. And don't be so defensive, if you'd annoyed me you'd know about it, I don't know if you've noticed but I'm not that good at bottling things up."

Jake busied himself with washing dishes while Apollos ate. Finally he turned, casting aside a dishcloth, and folded his arms.

"If the Registration Act goes full swing what do you think will happen to this place?"

[Feral]

Feral tore off another hunk of his sandwich. He finished the morsel before he spoke up. "The government will either try to offer money to the House to get all mutants registered, or try to prevent the House from helping non-registered mutants. If the House does not comply, it is likely the government will try to shut it down."

Feral turned the sandwich so he could get a better mouthful. "Either way, it's going to get very invasive."