UNIQUE (A Powers Novel)

Six

After leaving Paragon, a tentative smile builds on my face, followed by a rush of adrenaline. Then a bark of laughter slips out as I walk down the metro steps. I'm in. A test subject, maybe. But I'm in the door. The rest I can manage on my own once I move in. Maybe wow my researcher with my knowledge.

I debate all the way home on how to tell my parents the news. Not telling them it's as a clinical test subject is certain. They don't need to know what I'm doing, exactly. It should just be enough that I have a way to make money. I'll tell them the good news over dinner. It'll lessen their stress.

The three of us sit down for dinner, and I can't keep it in any longer. The fluttering in my stomach is aching to get out. "I got a job at Paragon Diagnostics." The words just sort of fall out of my mouth.

My parents become stiff. Mom can barely even look at me, her dark brown eyes widening as she stares at her food.

Dad's shoulders tense. "What?"

The giddy smile on my face droops to match those of my parents. I thought they would be proud of me. Mom just sits there, pushing her steamed broccoli around the plate with her fork. Dad stares back at me, or possibly through me, without even a hint of life.

I don't understand why they are so quiet, so weirded out. It's what they want—for me to get a job. And it's at Paragon. What the hell is their problem?

"What, exactly, will you be doing there?" asks Dad, blinking at me.

"Genetic research.," I answer.

"But you don't have any abilities," Dad says, shaking his head.

"Then I suppose I wowed them with my brains," I say, incredulous. "And they are paying me generously, and offering insurance to all the family."

Mom doesn't say a word. Her eyes squeeze shut momentarily, but when she opens them, she notices me watching her and nods her head as if not surprised at all.

"Why would they offer us insurance, too?" he asks, tipping his head to the side and narrowing his eyes.

How do I tell them it was to help with Dad's medical bills? I shrug my shoulders and reply with, "It's just their policy. All family members are covered by the insurance."

"We have insurance," he grumbles, then takes a bite of his chicken.

"Dad, Paragon Diagnostics has the best insurance coverage in the Union." I should have expected this resistance. My dad has always been proud and stubborn.

"But why you?" he asks again. Every time it hurts a little more.

Mom gives Dad a knowing glance. Dad ignores it.

I drop my fork on the plate and sit back. "I don't get it. You screamed at me and insisted that I get a job or get out."

"I didn't scream."

"And now I get one, and you still aren't satisfied." I push my chair back from the table. The legs shudder against the tiled floor, shooting vibrations up through me. Drinks ripple on the tabletop. "You know, I came home so excited to tell you the good news, and this is how you thank me. It's never good enough, is it? I will never be good enough for you!"

"Settle down, boy," Dad growls.

I'm standing.

"Why?" My shoulders tense. "I got a job like you wanted, and I'll be out by morning... like you wanted."

"Ugene." Mom's soft tone is an attempt at calming me.

"No, I'm tired of it." I storm toward the basement to pack the rest of my stuff. "Now you get what you want. Life without me. I'll be out of your hair in the morning."

I slam the door and hear the pictures on the wall rattle.

Why won't they tell me the truth? I'm old enough to get a job and become independent, but not mature enough to handle what's going on with my dad.

#

I spend the rest of the night packing my stuff downstairs. Two bags. That's all I'm allowed to bring in.

Mom comes downstairs before heading to bed for the night. Her eyes are red. She looks at the bags I have packed around the room as she fidgets her hands.

"So you're really going?" Her voice is small. It breaks my heart seeing her like this. She's always understood me.

"Mom, I've wanted to work at Paragon for years."

"I know." Though she doesn't sound as convinced as she wants me to believe.

There's silence as I pack up the last of my stuff. Mom is poking through my books and notebooks before I reach for them.

"Your dad loves you, Ugene."

"He has a funny way of showing it." I zip the last bag and toss it by the other one.

"He's just worried."

"About me?" I glare at her, hoping she'll tell me something.

The look she gives me is much like the one she tried to hide at dinner. Knowing. Mom has always been tough, like the time when I was five, and she saved me from the bats when dad shrank back. I wanted to kill them, get rid of them, but Mom showed mercy. All they're doing is trying to survive, Ugene, she told me. Not so different from us.

"It's hard letting go sometimes," she replies. "We brought you into this world, raised you. It was our job to protect you and get you ready to go out into the world alone. We had to teach you right from wrong, watch over you day and night, fix your pain. But in the end, decisions like these are your own. We can't stop you. Not anymore."

Our eyes meet as she says this, and I can tell there's something else. A lump constricts my throat, and I swallow it down... hard.

"You did a great job." My hands are fidgeting now, and I can't look her in the eye. "Considering I'm not what you wanted."

"What are you talking about?" Her tone is sharp as she steps in front of me. Her hands brush down my arms then clasp my hands. "You are everything I wanted. Maybe you don't have an ability. I don't care. I wanted a son. One who cared about his family and wanted to make life better no matter what. You inspire me, Ugene. Despite everything, you never give up. Never let go. If only more people could be like you. If only you could inspire everyone the way you inspire me."

I can't stop tears from welling up. The lump rises back up in my throat, and I open my mouth to respond. Nothing comes.

Mom hugs me close. I can't help leaning into her. I wish I could see myself the way she sees me. I wish I understood something of what she did.

For a minute we just hug. Neither of us speaks. We don't need to. There's comfort in this hug. And a fear of letting go.

"I worry about you," she says in that hushed voice again.

"You don't need to."

"I'm your mom. It's my job."

I pull back and look at her, quickly brushing away the tears with the back of my hand. For the first time, I see the lines of age around her eyes. And something else.

"Don't forget to call," she says, turning from me to take in the room. "I expect to hear from you regularly."

"I'll call. And I'll come back to visit whenever I can. Just..." My gaze drifts toward the stairs, the door, and beyond.

"I'll talk to him. Please, for both of our sakes, just keep in touch." Mom hesitates a moment, just staring at me, then starts toward the stairs. "No matter what he says or how he acts, he loves you." She climbs, then hesitates at the door. At that moment I can tell she knows that I know about Dad. There's no hiding anything from her. "You let me know if you're in trouble, okay. If anyone gives you trouble, they'll have your old mom to answer to."

I laugh. "I'll be fine."

But before she closes the door she gives me one last look, and I realize she's serious. What does she think will happen to me?