The Many Faces of Tully
Jace's Story

Jace and I spend as much time as possible with each other when I’m not practicing and his services aren’t needed elsewhere. We generally get to eat every meal with each other and we still go on shopping trips together. He actually had it arranged and we took over the shopping chore completely so we went every two weeks.

In the next couple months we try to learn everything about each other, just going back and forth with questions, almost like we were surveying each other.

“What’s your favorite color?” I ask.

“Light blue, almost sky blue but lighter. Paler,” Jace answers. “Yours?”

“Purple. Favorite food?”

“Steak and potatoes. You?”

“Uh, does coffee count?” He laughs at me.

“Sure, what’s your favorite movie?”

“The Notebook.”

“Typical girl,” he scoffs at me.

“Hey, that’s no fair. You don’t know why it’s my favorite,” I defend myself.

“Then why is it your favorite?”

“Well, for someone like me it’s inspirational. To love someone like that or to have someone love you like that. That no matter how far you’re gone, like what happens to me sometimes when my powers take control, someone can reach you. And also that someone won’t stop trying to reach you. They would try all day every day just to get you to come back to them, even if it is just for five minutes. To have that kind of love that conquers dementia or my powers would be the most amazing thing ever. I love that movie because it gives me hope that maybe one day, someone will always be there for me and help me be me and not my powers.”

“I see. That makes sense.”

“What’s yours?”

“Does a series count?”

I laugh. “Sure.”

“Then the X-Men series.”

I laugh even harder. “Why are those your favorite movies?”

“Um well, besides the obvious?” he asks me.

“The 'obvious' meaning they have powers?”

“Yeah. They have powers like us but they’re called mutants. I have no idea what they would call us. We aren’t necessarily mutated like our DNA isn’t messed up. Our brains or bodies just function different than others making us able to do things that aren’t normally possible. Like certain parts of our brain are larger than average, making us able to use our powers. So yeah, I relate to this series because they have powers and they are always fighting the bad guys to save the world.”

“Who’s your favorite character?”

“Wolverine. Of course. I relate to him the most seeing as he has healing powers. Of course I don’t have the retractable claws and my skeletal structure isn’t made of adamantium but I can heal from virtually anything just like him. I’m not sure if my healing abilities slow my aging process like his does, but I don’t see why not. Also, with recent events I can relate to him even more.”

“What’s that?”

“You remind me of Jean Grey who has multiple powers just like you. Telepathy, telekinesis and her Phoenix form. And Wolverine has a huge crush on her.” He smirks at me.

“You know she goes all Phoenix-y and evil in the end right? And Wolverine ends up killing her?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Well you’re not going to sacrifice your life and then be reborn as the Phoenix and then side with the bad guys are you?”

“I don’t plan to, no.” I smile.

“See? Then there is nothing to worry about.” He smiles back at me. “I also relate to it by how I got here…” he says sadly, dropping his eyes.

He’s never told me the story of how he got here. I know some of them had just stumbled across us, like me. Others had heard about us and came to us but everyone else was sought out and asked to come here. Jace was only eleven so I wonder how he got here.

“Jace? How did you get here?” I ask him. “You haven’t really told me anything about your old life…” I’ve told him pretty much all of my past. All that was noteworthy at least.

“That’s because I don’t like to think about it,” he grumbles and starts pulling at my carpet. I just sit and wait patiently. He’ll tell me. I know he will. It’s sort of our unspoken agreement to tell each other whatever the other one wants to know. He sighs, and begins, still staring at the carpet.

“I lived here, in Iowa, but in a different town. My mom and dad both worked their hardest and we made it by pretty well. Strictly middle class. I’ve had healing powers my entire life. My parents knew about it of course.” He smirks. “Kids get banged up their entire lives, so whenever I fell down and scraped my knee or something it would glow green and heal like normal. I was home schooled because of that though. They didn’t want me getting hurt at school and everyone seeing what I was capable of. They didn’t want people to know and want to experiment on me or something.” He says it as if he is reciting a speech.

“I was even isolated as a kid, but I didn’t mind it back then. I got to stay at home all day and do whatever I wanted. I was naturally smart so I didn’t have much school work. When I was eight my dad died. Apparently he had cancer and they never told me. I also didn’t know back then that I could heal other people. I learned that here. So after that it was just me and my mom. I became a lot more responsible so she could go to work without worrying about me. She could actually hire a babysitter and not be afraid of me hurting myself to show off my powers. I did that a lot.” He smiles at a memory.

“I loved my mom a lot. She was the most amazing woman in the world to me. She helped me see that I wasn’t a freak and that I was just gifted. She loved me even though I was weird and had these unnatural powers. It didn’t bother her one bit that I was different. She actually joked some times that it was a blessing and meant that she never had to worry about medical bills with me. She was a wonderful woman.

“Then Calchas came.” His tone darkens. “He came to my house and my mom sent me to my room. I could catch a bit of their conversation so I got the gist of it. He knew I had powers and he wanted to take me away. I knew my mom would never go for it. I was home schooled for this reason. So no one would come by and try to take me away and treat me like a guinea pig. But then at dinner, she was telling me that I was going away. That I had to go with that man and that I would understand when I was older.” He shakes his head slightly, and then he finally looks up at me.

“I thought she was joking until she started packing all my stuff up.” He drops his eyes again. “That’s when I started to freak out. I started yelling and crying and begging her to let me stay. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave her. I didn’t want to understand when I was older. An eleven year old should not feel that sort of betrayal. I hated Calchas for coming by and taking me away. I understand why he did it but I hated him.” His voice drops, and I have to listen a little harder.

“I still don’t think I fully understand why my mom let him take me though. I hate her too. I have no idea what Calchas said or did to make her agree to this but I can never forgive her. She’s written me a few times but I’ve never read the letters. I’ve never replied. I have nothing to say to her.”

He finishes his story and it’s silent in my room. I don’t know what to say. It’s a very sad story. I have no idea how that must feel like. My parents didn’t know about my powers. I don’t know how they would have reacted if they did. I don’t know if they would have let me go. I don’t know if they would have betrayed me. They never had the choice. I left them. I needed to leave them. They couldn’t have a murderer for a daughter.

I scoot off my bed and sit next to him on the floor. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and comfort him. There really are no words some times. How come he leaves me speechless like this all the time?

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