Watchers on the Walls

Chapter 1: Exordium "So when do we get to meet the X-Men?" "Forget that. When do we get totry outfor the X-Men?" "Hmf. Why do they call them 'X-Men' when half of them are women? What is this, 1963?" John Chang let the other students' voices wash over him as he followed them inside the stately mansion that housed the Xavier Institute of Higher Learning. He found their prattle to be pointless, just a release of nervous energy. By now they all knew the basics; like him, they had all been sought out by Professor Charles Xavier -- or one of his grown former students -- who had invited them to enroll in the institute, where they could be schooled in a nurturing environment that would help them learn to accept and master their special gifts, et cetera, et cetera. By now they had also been made aware that the school was the home base for the mutant superhero team known as the X-Men, and that they should therefore not be surprised if occasionally a high-powered jet plane emerged from the swimming pool or a horde of alien bounty hunters descended upon the Westchester campus. (That last had not been in the formal introduction, but rumors abounded.) But this was the start of the new semester, the first time all these teenaged mutants had come together to drink in the reality of it all and compare notes. John supposed he could forgive them for their excitement. He felt a similar anticipation of his own. But he preferred to keep quiet about his. After a lifetime of standing apart, his difference making him a target of scorn and persecution, it was refreshing to be able to go unnoticed in a crowd. However, as the students mingled, filing into the large parlor in the north wing to await their instructors, John noticed that the universal tendency toward segregation was playing out even here. The kids who had cool powers were showing off to one another, evoking oohs or laughter as they levitated or wove electricity between their fingers or chameleon-blended with the wallpaper. The rest -- those whose mutations only made them look strange or served as handicaps -- ended up marginalized, grouping together by default in the corner. John fell into that category himself. He had no gifts beyond the human norm; if anything, his eyesight was rather poorer and his strength below average. He was simply small and pale with four-fingered hands, beady eyes, no nose, and four pairs of canine teeth. The only noteworthy ability he had was a natural immunity to telepathy. According to Professor Xavier, John's presence had come as a surprise. Cerebro, his mutant-detecting computer, which worked by telepathy somehow, had detected only one mutant in their Canton, Ohio, neighborhood: Harry Mills. But Harry had befriended John when the latter had arrived in Canton the previous month. (Or rather, Harold had, John reminded himself. Harold had stopped answering to the nickname "Harry" when his mutant power had manifested, causing fast-growing blond hair to emerge all over his body, leaving him looking something like an angora gorilla. Everyone else had still called him that when he hadn't been around, though.) When Xavier had come for Harr -- for Harold -- Harold had introduced him to John. And once the professor had learned how John's foster parents had mistreated him and called him a freak, he had done all he could to expedite the boy's admission to the institute. So here John was, in the place where freaks were welcome, yet he was already getting shoved into the corner. Well, that was fine with him. He'd be content to go unnoticed. Harold, however, had other plans. He was a gregarious youth, and he was wasting little time in introducing himself and his friend JohBennett, Christopher L. is the author of 'Watchers on the Walls ', published 2006 under ISBN 9781416510673 and ISBN 1416510672.