The past is never strong enough

Her mother shed some tears, translucent pieces of emotion that no one needed to know about. We needed an answer.

"I used to stand to metal traffic and corruption. It costed my friends some souls, but we ended up making some change. Hence, I wouldn't do it again if I could rewind it all.

She said those words that seemed more bitter than her plain unsweetened coffee, and then sipped on the dark, bleaky drink with a look of wisdom that scared me more.

"I'm not ready to be involved in this mess. I need to be far behind to be able to secure my girl's path."

A mess. How come she called our biggest peace endeavor a mess? For once, it was discouraged to spread the Good? How many thought I was selfish; but now they are preventing me from being so? How could I stand passive-agressively another day watching the world flame, burn and die, working for my own good as if I were the only occupier to planet Earth?

"Brian and I gotta go. We have a curfew."

Mrs Iris Arnold stared at me in the most profoundly skeptical way possible. My bro and I spent a whole night with her daughter at the hospital, and now we pretend to have a curfew.

"Maybe we don't have a curfew. Maybe we just have something to discuss. In private."

Showing my annoyance didn't bother me that much, as a matter of fact. Not that I was trying hard to sound like a badass, but I just wasn't okay with not letting people know that they have vexed me.

Brian was distraught.

"It's not smart enough, you might happen to need her by your side, sooner or later. "

"It's done, now."

"We haven't even paid for our drinks."

I walked towards a young barista and gave her $30.

"For the table next to the hibiscus bushes."

She still seemed startled.

"You can keep the change."

I wanted desperately to be kind, at least for the day.

Hands tied, Brian and I went down the alley, no particular plan in mind, our gut leading mysteriously. Knocking on our parents' door, Brian surprised me by starting off :

"What if we wanted to save the world?"

"Go ahead, then." Our mother, more tired than ever, wasn't ready to argue.

"You guys have kept our secret for years and we're grateful, now what if I just want to know one thing, would you let me on it?"

"What do you wanna know? Stop beating around the bush! What's on your mind, you witty Aurora?"

"Where did we get those genes from? "

"From me. How would that help you?"

"So can you help us use them in a good way?"

"Look, daughter. I'm not willing to play mind games. What do you want from me?"

"Your experience, solely. Another woman is helping with that, but she doesn't want to get too close; and I'd rather be involved with you."

"How come she can help you? Does she have a peculiar past too?"

The way she said peculiar made Brian frown his eyebrows in the usual, unvoluntary way that made all these girls fall for him. He took the flame from me, and I was grateful ; tired of justifying my points.

"Look momma, she has. She's named Iris and her bride name is Arnolds. Maybe you'd know her, maybe you wouldn't. Unimportant for now. Can you just help us?"

"You can't decide what's important and what's not. If she's Iris Robins, you'd better cut her off your life. She was too reckless, unapologetically clumsy in times no one could afford to be. People have died in her hands, and her regrets are probably what led her to dodge implication. She has every right to do so, but if I were you, I wouldn't reach out to her for advice."

"So you do know everyone who has the 'legacy'?"

"Strange nomenclature of yours," she chuckled."I do know them all, because I inventoried them. I never realised how powerful of a job that was until you two started wondering. So, want to revive The Energy Unit?"

Brian hugged me so tight I couldn't breathe. When he got away, what I saw in his eyes was a blast of comprehension, love, and excitement. We were sharing dreams and a powerful future. Maybe this electromagnetic twins thing wasn't that bad.

And maybe, our powerful future was brighter than a flunked, bloody past. They say the past leaves a painful scar, I say it ain't even strong enough to talk.