Early Risers

Posted on Thu Oct 10th, 2024 @ 8:13pm by Kurt Wagner & Kennedy Kelly

8,667 words; about a 43 minute read

Mission: Episode 5: Days of Fortune Past
Location: X-Mansion
Timeline: November 7, 1990

Kennedy had passed through every stage of grief over Jace’s demise. She knew he wasn’t actually dead but the feelings of loss and heartache that follow certainly felt like he was. Collapsing into nothing more than a sniveling melancholy mess, she hid under the blankets of her bed with only the milkshakes that Bliss had brought her for sustenance. Kennedy remained like this until the sadness was replaced with ennui which thankfully dissolved quickly and allowed her drive to do more to return. It was one of the beautiful things that Xavier saw in her, Kennedy’s desire to live, to find herself and her purpose. It had served her well when she was abandoned, when her father had been murdered, and now with Jace’s betrayal. So after days of tears, she had finally emerged and was ready to do something for herself.

Always the early riser, Kennedy got out of bed even earlier than usual thanks to the lack of schedule that past few days in bed had provided. There was no dawn light in the November sky, only the darkness of night. With the mansion eerily silent as everyone else slept, it made it easier for her to be careless with her morning routine. Heading down to the gymnasium, she didn’t bother to close the door before she turned up the volume on her portable stereo as loud as it would go.

The time difference between Winzeldorf and New York was quite substantial, as much as one-sixth of the entire distance around the globe. As a result, Kurt had been struggling to adjust to life in the Western hemisphere, at least as far as circadian rhythms went. It seemed impolite to wander about the mansion at odd hours, so he took his restlessness out on the subbasement below. This place was truly a marvel. If he was to be of any benefit to those he was tasked with aiding, he needed to acclimate. So many of the mansion’s hidden features were beyond his experience; it sometimes felt as though he should be the student. But such was life, he often mused.

The haunting sound of a solo cello accompanied by a piano filled the hallway as Camille Saint-Saëns's Le Cygne played, its slow melody of the single cello felt broken and sad as it floated through the air. It created a curious and beautiful sound that was impossible for Kurt to ignore. Making his way to the gym, he found Kennedy alone and ballet dancing to the piece of music.

Dressed in a simple black leotard with pale pink tights and pointe shoes, she was performing the sad dance known as The Dying Swan, a short ballet performance that showcased the last moments in the life of a swan.

While he didn’t know the specific title, Kurt felt the familiar tug of recognition pull at his recollection. He had seen this before. Although he could not remember where, he recognized the simple, fluid movements were deceptively complex. Where her technique might have faltered under an overly critical eye, her passion more than compensated. Kurt slowly canted his head as he watched with curiosity.

With arms folded and en pointe, she dreamily and slowly circled the area of the gym that had been cleared as a makeshift stage, Kennedy moved as a weary swan forced to leave the sky one last time. Using even, gliding motions of her hands and feet she floated across the open space. The dance showed the swan striving to reach towards the horizon, as though with one more fruitful motion she just might take flight again and escape the confines of the stage along and her dimming soul. But inevitably fatigue took over and the building tension to fly gradually relaxed and Kennedy’s body language began to crumble as she danced with arms waving faintly, as if in pain. Then faltering with irregular steps toward the edge of the stage her leg bones quivered like the strings of a harp until one swift forward-gliding motion of her right foot sunk her to the earth. Kenney fell to the ground as she embodied the aerial creature struggling against its earthly bonds; and there, transfixed by pain, she died. Motionless and somber, Kennedy remained broken and collapsed on the gym floor until the final note of the cello finished.

His yellow eyes widened in wonder. Kennedy was quite good. Unable to contain himself, Kurt began applauding, even if the sound was unusual coming from his uniquely shaped hands. It was nothing short of a moving performance.

“Bravo! Gut gemacht!” Only then realizing that he had not made his presence known, Kurt bamfed closer to Kennedy so that she could see him. Shadows tended to cover him like a blanket, so he placed himself in direct lighting. “Zhat was simply beautiful, fraulein.”

Kennedy jumped in response to the sound of his voice and his subsequent appearance closer to her. “Oh gosh, Kurt you scared me half to death!” Connor already snuck up on her on a regular basis and the idea of having yet another person who could do the same made her bristle and puff like a scared cat.

“Thank you for your kind words but you have to be careful with surprising me.” She got to her feet and turned off the CD player before the next piece began to play. “I’m better than I was, but sometimes I accidentally set off my powers when I’m startled.”

“It happens to ze the best of us,” Kurt said reassuringly. “You dance vith such excellence! I have no doubt you vill learn to master your gifts just as vell.” He couldn’t stop smiling. “I zhink I hef seen zhis performance before but I cannot remember vhere or vhen. Could you tell me ze name of ze particular number?”

“I knew you were a performer so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you enjoy the arts too.” Sitting down on one of the weight benches, Kennedy made herself comfortable. She was slowly getting used to seeing Kurt, the glow of his eyes and looming presence of his tail no longer distracted her. “It’s called The Dying Swan, it was composed at the request of a Russian prima ballerina in the early 1900s. The piece is from Camille Saint-Saëns’s The Carnival of the Animals musical suite. I saw it performed in New York City when I was ten and I fell in love with it.” Kennedy turned nostalgic for a moment as she remembered how magical that performance had been but then reality returned and she snapped out of her daydreams. “Your praise is nice but I’m just an okay dancer. I’ve never been a real ballerina or anything but I’ve been dancing since I was four, I mainly use it as a way to exercise and express myself… no one here has seen me dance. I only do it when I’m alone.”

Kurt nodded in understanding. “I hef never actually… been… to the ballet,” he admitted. “Ze circus had dancers of all kinds, alzhough I do not zhink many were classically trained. Be encouraged, Fraulein Kennedy! You are fit to dance for ze circus!” He chuckled at the juxtaposition. “If I am ze first to see your dance, zhen I count myself blessed indeed. Precision comes from hard vork, but talent comes from above, and before God I can say you hef both.”

“Thanks, you’re too kind.” Kennedy sheepishly accepted the compliment. Years in strict ballet classes had told her otherwise but she appreciated Kurt’s ability to find joy in the mundane. It seemed like a rewarding outlook. “I have never been to the circus.” Kennedy countered his confession with one of her own. “So it appears we have a leg up on each other.”

A shrug and a smile, Kurt conceded her point without comment. She was certainly agreeable enough for someone who didn’t accept praise for her accomplishments. There was no need to pursue it.

She stood up and started to collect her things before moving the lighter exercise equipment back into place. Kennedy knew where each piece went without a second glance, her familiarity with this whole breakdown and setup routine made it feel like it was a common occurrence for her. “You’re up awfully early, I’m usually by myself at this hour of the morning. Are monks early risers?”

“Ja, but sleep has been elusive even vizhout Lauds to avaken me.” Kurt said before sighing, giving away his exhaustion. “My gift allows me to travel around ze world and yet I never stayed avay from Europa long enough for my body to make ze change.” He chewed his lip for a minute, emphasizing his enlarged canine on the one side. “I zhink you call zhis ‘jet lag’? God send zhat I change sviwftly, or I vill haunt your home like a poltergeist forever!” Kurt chuckled at his melodramatic description.

“I’m sure you’ll adjust once you’ve settled in a bit more. I think the trick is to acclimate to the current timezone as quickly as possible, so stay up and stay busy today so you can sleep tonight.” Kennedy picked up her gym bag and portable stereo. “I’m going to make some coffee, would you like some too?”

She had a feeling Kurt would say ‘yes’ before he even answered so she began to make her way down the hall toward the rapid transit tubes that served as elevators. Kurt seemed personable and enjoyed the company of others over seclusion, seeing as how she was the only person awake right now, he would most likely follow. “So you can travel the whole world in just the blink of an eye? That must be nice. What’s your favorite place you’ve been to?”

In reply, Kurt said, “I hef been to every country in Europe, and many regions of North Africa and Asia. I cannot decide vhich is my favorite. God has created such a beautiful vorld and His greatest creations hef built such vonders zhat it feels unjust to rate zhem.” He thought for a moment and then smiled at a fond memory. “I can say you hef never seen ze sun rise until you vatch it from ze top of ze Great Pyramid in Giza.”

Rather than catch up, Kurt bamfed to Kennedy’s side, took her by the hand, and said, “But I cannot travel ze world in ze blink of an eye,” before bamfing them both away. They appeared upstairs in the main hall, not far from the kitchen.

Kennedy made a small squeak of surprise in response to the teleportation. One minute she was in the subbasement, the next the hallway upstairs. It happened in the blink of an eye and while painless and instantaneous it still caught her off guard.

“Line of zight is best,” Kurt said once the wisps of brimstone dissipated, “zhough with concentration and familiarity visth ze environment, I can surmount barriers vizhout difficulty. I hef a limit of a few kilometers as vell, so my travels are still a journey.”

She wrinkled her nose from the fleeting smell of brimstone. The gesture would have been considered offensive had it not made her look like a rabbit. But the cute scrunch of her nose was quickly removed as Kennedy’s manners returned.

Stepping back to allow Kennedy her space, Kurt waited for her lead to the kitchen. It was a bit of a forward gesture, but Kurt was a performer at heart beneath the humble monk demeanor he employed for most polite situations. He couldn’t help but grin at his brazen demonstration.

“So you can’t just go anywhere at any time.” She clarified the limitations of his abilities as Kennedy began walking towards the kitchen. Despite her candid responses to his teleportation she adjusted to it quickly. Then again that seemed to be her attitude towards Kurt in general, initial shock that soon faded to acceptance. Maybe she wasn’t accustomed to someone like him but she was willing to make the effort to get to know him. “It still seems incredibly useful.”

Kennedy began to move about the kitchen as she bypassed the coffee maker for different coffee making supplies. A glass French press and coffee beans from the freezer, both excessively labeled with her name. “I think most people have a touch of wanderlust in them but it’s crushed by life and its limitations, but you have seen and get to see the world. You’re lucky.”

“I do not vander much,” Kurt said. “Even zhough I was abandoned at birth, I hef alvays had a home. Not much has taken me far avay from it. Ze circus did not go beyond Europe. I…” He cut off then, a surge of emotion choking him up a little. It took a few seconds for him to compose himself. “Zhere was someone special who always liked to see vhat lied beyond ze next hill. Ve vould spend all night togesther, jumping again and again until ze sun rised upon a new land neisther of us had ever seen before.” His yellow eyes turned dreamy in his account of yesteryear until his words finally trailed off. Realizing he had stopped talking, he said, “You might say zhat travel is alvays better vith a second person.”

“Yeah, that other person is nice to have.” Her back was turned towards him and Kurt watched as her whole posture slumped in painful defeat. Her time with Jace had been short but like with all teenage love, she had jumped in with both feet. Kennedy had given Jace everything so it hurt when things ended, especially like the way they had.

She sniffed and jerked for a moment before Kennedy regained her composure and continued with making their coffee. “What was her name?”

“Vanda…” The name was spoken with heartache. “Vanda Maximoff. You may know her brother, Pietro. Ve performed together in ze circus. Vanda and I were trained by the same master acrobat, so ve vere together day and night.” Pain turned bittersweet as fondness overtook Kurt's voice. “Zhere was no technique ve could not do. Our bodies flowed togesther likes drops of vater.”

After giving a sigh, he said, “And zhen she left. Zhat is vhy I returned to ze monastery.” Kurt's voice took a harder edge to it. “Magneto came on ze night I vas going to tell her my true feelings. He seduced her vith lies of grandeur into joining his evil Brotherhood. She vas lost to me even zhen, alzhough I did not believe it.”

Kurt realized that Kennedy had turned away from him. The coffee wasn’t brewing, yet she had not turned around. It finally dawned on him that she was crying.

“Fraulein Kennedy! Forgive me if my voes have troubled you. Zhat was not my intention.” He came up behind her and placed a tender hand on her shoulder. “Do not veep for me. I pray for God's mercy vhich is new every morning.”

“No, no there’s no need to apologize,” Kennedy wiped her tears away with the back of her hand as she mentally cursed herself for being so fragile in front of someone who was still a stranger to her. “I’ve just been through a lot these past several months and losing Jace was really hard… I understand what you mean when you say having someone makes all the difference. I thought I had found that person too.”

Kennedy moved away from him and reached out for a pair of coffee cups because doing anything was better than remaining underneath his sympathetic gaze. “The wounds are still fresh so they’re easy to tear open. I’m sorry to hear about Wanda.”

“Zhat is vhy I am here,” Kurt said. “Your friends hef been helping Pietro search for her as vell. If ve vork together, I believe ve vill find her. I prayed, you know, for God’s help, and He sent it to me in the form of my greatest rival. Pietro talked Vanda into joining Magneto. She joined ze Brotherhood because of him. And zhen it was him who led ze others to find me. God is good!”

Realizing he was still talking about himself after Kennedy had bared her heart, Kurt inwardly chastised himself. “Tell me about Jace. He vas good once, ja? Vhat led him to become ze awful man I saw in New York City?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head in disapproval as she attempted to find the answer. “I thought we were the same, that he was looking for the same things as me. Now I think I’d go mad trying to answer that question. Whatever happened to him changed him forever...” Kennedy inhaled deeply as she fought to suppress the surge of emotion that threatened to knock her down. “I gave him all of myself and in the end… he frightened me.”

“I believe it!” Kurt was emphatic in his graciousness. “I vas frightened on your behalf, Fraulein Kennedy. It vas a terrible zhing, the vay ve found you.” He thought for a moment, pondering whether to speak from the heart. In the end, he did. “But zhat place? It is a den of robbers. As it is written, ‘It is easier for a camel to pass sthrough ze eye of a needle, zhan for a rich man to enter ze kingdom of heaven’. Vealth can be a great temptation that so few of us can resist. But for ze grace of God, zhere go I. It is vhy I took a vow of poverty. Ze only riches I can ever possess are those vhich are common to all mankind. God owns ze cattle on a sthouand hills, vhich is to say all the vorld is our inheritance for safekeeping. And, in zhis vay, I truly vant for nothing.” He bowed his head for a moment. “I vill remember your friend Jace in my prayers. May he be granted repentance and ze acknowledgement of zhis truth, zhat he find peace and redemption.”

“Shinobi.” Kennedy said with a touch of bitterness “His name is Shinobi. If you’re going to pray for him, call him by his real name.” With a firm press of her palm across the top of the French press, she pushed the coffee grounds to the bottom of the glass container, trapping them there so only the freshly brewed coffee remained.

“God knows his name and his heart,” Kurt said meekly. “He knows who it is I mean.” That wasn’t the point and Kurt knew it. But a broken heart was beyond any mortal man’s ability to mend. “And Jace… Shinobi… vill not be ze the vone in my prayers.”

He watched as she leveled and centered herself right before his eyes, as all those hard and painful feelings were dampened and a more composed young woman stood in front of him. Kennedy was a fighter and she would always claw her way back to that place where she could stand on her own two feet again. But those blue eyes of hers, they remained sad.

“I can’t dwell on him forever, I can’t undo the things that happened, and I can’t lie to myself about the reasons why everything happened the way it did.” She poured the hot coffee into the two cups and slid one across the counter towards Kurt. “Do you like sugar or milk in your coffee?”

The question gave Kurt pause. Coffee was a luxury he had sampled before, but he was far from a connoisseur of it. “I’ll hef vhat you’re having,” he said at length. “You seem to know vhat you’re doing.” Her setup was rather impressive. There was pleasure in watching someone perform a simple task that brought them joy which was, in this case, a cup of coffee. “Is ze French press your favorite?”

“Of course! It makes the best coffee,” Kennedy said with such matter-of-fact frankness. “But coffee is the only thing I know how to make, so it better be good.”

She poured a splash of milk into each cup before raising her own and gently tapping it against his. “Cheers,” Kennedy said before taking a sip.

“Prost!” Kurt replied before sipping his cup. “Mmm… is good,” he said with a happy moan. “Takes me to ze time I visited Monastère Saint-François in Nice.” Kurt’s French pronunciation was impeccable. “Ze monks zhere offered me French roast, much ze same as zhis…” He paused to savor another sip, though it was large enough to slosh around his mouth. “Except ze cream vas zhat of a goat!” He chuckled a moment and added, “Zhis is much better.”

“Now you’re making me envious.” Kennedy said before taking another sip of coffee. “I have always wanted to go to France. I’ve been speaking French for as long as I can remember but I didn’t really devote myself to it until the prospect of spending the summer in Paris was presented to me.” She examined the hardwood floors of the kitchen for a moment as Kennedy recalled all the opportunity that her future once held but she squashed those feelings of remorse, those dreams from the past had to die so she could survive. “But that plan was part of a different path for me, a life I no longer have. Still, it all sounds lovely - Europe as a whole sounds beautiful.”

“Oh, it is,” Kurt confirmed, “but so is America. So far it is quite astonishing to see such similarities besides ze differences.” He sipped more of his coffee and considered Kennedy’s words. “I hef been to Paris but only in passing. Vhen I travel, I stay close to ze shadows, mostly in ze old cathedrals vhere I cannot be seen by osthers. Europe is good for zhis. America is so big and open. It feels hard to hide. But… perhaps zhis is vhy God led me here. Perhaps it is time to come out of hiding, ja?”

“You shouldn’t have to hide.” While Kennedy had initially been surprised by Kurt’s appearance, the idea that he had felt the need to hide made her sick to her stomach. “You have just as much of a right to go places as any of us do.”

She delivered those words with such firm conviction and Kurt got the impression that she would defend him in any position where he was prosecuted or made to feel less simply for being different. It was a momentary glimpse at the X-Men that was inside of her.

Kurt felt the full gamut of emotions from everything that Kennedy was saying. Shouldn’t have to hide? That had never been a consideration for him, just a harsh reality. “Zhank you for your kind vords,” he said meekly

“But I like churches and cathedrals too, they are beautiful and serene. Aside from the spiritual aspects they were the cornerstone of a city, the art and history inside of them deserves reverence.” Kennedy took a sip of her coffee before she continued. “We have a beautiful one in Boston, the Holy Cross. It’s grand and immaculate inside and was beautiful at Christmas time. I wouldn’t mind seeing St. Patrick’s in the city but it seems like a weird day trip to take, I don’t think anyone else would be interested in going.”

“A day trip?” Kurt chuckled at that. “Ve could be to New York City and back before breakfast.” Realizing he may have been too forward, Kurt began to backpedal. “I do not know Boston. Is it far from here?”

Kennedy ignored his talk of travel, it felt more like a musing than any type of actual invitation. Besides, the last time she had run off to New York City it had resulted in a broken heart.

“It’s about 3 hours east of here, it’s one of the bigger colonial cities of America, so it has lots of history and political significance.” Kennedy shrugged as she summarized Boston for Kurt. “But I’m estranged from my family, so I don’t anticipate going back anytime soon.”

“Oh, dear, I am sorry to hear it.” Kurt had been ready to ask her to be his guide to Boston, but news of her family estrangement shot that idea down. “So many sad memories, Fraulein Kennedy. Now I see vhy you dance vith such passion. You have known so much pain. Now tell me more of vhat brings you joy. If it is dance, I vould hear more of zhat, or anosther passion zhat makes you feel alive.”

His question moved her in a way that she hadn’t been expecting it to. Kennedy had spent so much time simply trying to survive that it left little room for anything else. At that moment she realized that she had spent very little time thinking about what made her happy. “I like words and stories, poetry that’s so beautiful it makes my heart hurt, sunshine and the woods, the smell of the ocean and the crash of waves, I love the arts and fashion because it’s how people bare their souls, horseback riding and city lights, history and to learn, because people are beautiful. And you’re right, I do love to dance, when I lose myself in the music that’s when I feel free.”

Kurt watched as her mood lightened while she spoke, like a great weight was lifting from her shoulders. He reminded her of a tree that was barren and dormant in winter, all it took was spring to make her blossom and grow.

“Thank you, Kurt. I haven’t thought about all those things in a long time.” Kennedy looked over at him with a genuine smile “Now you, what brings you joy?”

The transformation took the sympathy in Kurt’s iris-free yellow eyes and turned it to wonder. “You hef me at a disadvantage, Fraulein Kennedy. I confess you said so many of my favorite zhingks zhat I have not much left to tell! Land and animal husbandry vas my favorite part of monastery life. It is one zhingk to believe God created ze heavens and ze earth, but after you till ze earth and care for zhe creatures who live upon it and sleep under ze heavens, zhat is vhen ze truth becomes so real. Sharing zhat revelation with a beast of burden in a peaceful ride sthrough ze forest or wisth another soul by partaking in a beautiful work of art zhey made…” He paused a moment to chuckle with glee. “... it is like ze eighth day of Creation. Ze echoes of God are to be found in all His children.”

The excitement in his voice heightened his pitch a little. When he realized it, he laughed again. “I’m sorry. I do not mean to carry on so. But you asked vhat brings me joy. It is zhat. Vith as much darkness as can be found, I take joy in finding ze bright spots vherever zhey may be.” He canted his head to one side and grinned wide enough to show his fangs. “Zhere is ze fencing. Next vill you tell me you hef studied ze swordcraft?”

“No,” she shook her head in defeat but her smile remained. “I’m an archer. My mutation makes me an expert marksman. I suppose I could fire a gun or use shuriken but my favorite movie is the old Errol Flynn Robin Hood. So I think the bow and arrow will always be my preference.”

“I have dodged ze arrows but I hef never loosed any,” Kurt said. “Ve had a horseback archer at ze circus but he vas very protective of his bows. It is not an easy talent, ja?” The contrast between sword and bow was a fascinating one. The use of a ranged weapon had never occurred to him. Then again, his swordplay had been more for show rather than combat.

The mention of Robin Hood stirred up another memory. “Ve vent to Shervood Forest one time, actually. Ze circus vent as far as Ghent in Belgium and ve took a few days to cross ze Channel and see England. Rufford Abbey in Sherwood Forest is not like you vould zhink. Nosthing is left of ze original structure except ze undercroft, but ze new country house vas still beautiful.” As he shared that story, Kurt circled his pronounced toe on the floor. “Zhat might be my roundabout vay of saying zhat I hef never seen zhat movie… or any osther movie for zhat matter…”

“You’ve never seen a movie?!” Kennedy scoffed at the statement at first but then she saw that he was serious. She suddenly felt bad for not believing him at first. Connor had lived a rather sheltered life before coming to the school, why not Kurt too?

“Do you want to see a movie?” Kennedy suddenly became shy with her own proposal. “We can go to a movie if you want. Asfriendsofcourse.” She blurted out the last part so quickly that she didn’t really have time to consider it and then instantly regretted how stupid it sounded.

“I don’t see vhy not,” Kurt said slowly, not understanding Kennedy’s sudden discomfiture. Perhaps there was some cultural nicety he was overlooking. “You can show me zhis Errol Flynn, or anosther if you vish. Zhey all vill be new for me.” Was it a matter of money? Kurt had money he might never otherwise use and Kennedy had mentioned estrangement from her family. “Ve can make it my treat. Herr Professor has provided a stipend along visth my room and board, so it vould be my pleasure.”

“Oh I can pay for myself, you don’t have to spend your money on me.” Kennedy didn’t want to give Kurt the wrong impression, things were still so raw and terrible for her and he spoke about Wanda in such a way that he appeared to still have feelings for her. Half the school already hated her for her outburst with Bobby, she didn’t need any more rumors or drama surrounding her.

“But my favorite movie isn’t in the theaters anymore, it came out over 50 years ago. Plus, no one else really cares about movies like that, new movies are much more flashy and exciting. I have to watch it on VHS by myself when I want to see it.” Kennedy nodded towards the front door, “The morning paper is usually delivered by this time, we can look up today’s showtimes if you’d like.”

Those were words and Kurt knew what they meant individually, so only from there did he piece together her meaning. “Ja, I zhink I vould like zhat very much. But I vill hef to leave ze selection to you. Ve seem to share similar tastes, so I trust you to choose a good one.” Kurt opened and closed his mouth a few times in attempts to compose his next question. “Are zhere… a, uh, any kind of formalities vhich I should know? Should I vear a hat inside ze cinema?” His eyes grew wide at the other side of that coin. “Do zhey allow men visths hats inside ze cinema?”

“No, you don’t need to wear a hat to the movies,” Kennedy replied with a touch of laughter, she didn’t mean to make fun of him, it was more that his question was cute rather than absurd. “You can wear casual clothes and I think a hat would actually be frowned upon if it obstructed someone’s view.”

She disappeared for a brief period of time and came back with 4 different newspapers. “The Professor stays up on everything going on in current affairs.” Kennedy commented as she looked for the local paper in the bunch.

She opened up the paper on the kitchen counter and flipped through the sections until she found the local showtimes for the theater in Salem Center. Along with the showtimes there were half a dozen ads and a synopsis of each film that was available. Kennedy read through them and final decided on what she thought would interest both of them.

“This one.” She pointed at the ad of two men in profile, one a Civil War soldier and the other a Native American. Buffalo on the prairie made up the background. “It’s called Dances with Wolves, it’s about a soldier who befriends a Lakota tribe. You mentioned how big America seems to you, this one would definitely showcase that plus its cowboys and Indians which is the epitome of America.” Kennedy looked over at Kurt, it was the first time since they met that she actually made eye contact with him. “What do you think?”

“I regret zhat I do not know vhat any of zhat means,” Kurt admitted with a chuckle, “but I vould love to find out.” He processed some of Kennedy’s phrases and tried to put them in order. “America had a Civil Var and it involved Native American tribes? Which side had ze cowboys?”

“I guess they don’t teach a lot of American history in Europe, do they?” Kennedy chuckled and reached out for her cup of coffee. “Yes, we had a civil war but no, it didn’t involve native people. The man in the movie was a soldier in the war but his new mission involves dealing with the tribes while living in a part of America that wasn’t America yet.” She pushed a loose blonde curl from out of her eyes as she pursed her lips and tried to explain things better. “He’s not a cowboy per se but that dynamic of white men and native people is the struggle that occurs. Does that make sense? Or does it make it worse?”

Kurt gave a few slow nods. “Ja, it makes more sense zhat way. He is an explorer like Henry Morton Stanley and David Livingstone. Zhis is a good choice. I look forward to it.”

With that decided, Kurt gave her another toothy smile. “Vhat time is ze showing? I may need more coffee if it is late in the day.”

“How else would you get over your jet lag?” Kennedy said with a shrug as if it was obvious that there was no other way. She reached out for the press and topped off his half drunk cup with more coffee. “We’ll go to the earliest show but that’s close to lunchtime and it’s not even technically breakfast time yet.”

Kennedy refilled her own cup before she took another sip. “But it won’t be too much longer until everyone else is up. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before you’re busy and won’t have time to be tired.”

Kennedy wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to admit that she liked his company, that she wanted to ask him dozens of questions until she knew more and more about him. It felt wrong to bogart his time when he was so kind and friendly to everyone at the school. In that moment she convinced herself it was just his outgoing nature that kept him here, that Kurt was this way with everyone.

“Don’t you have German lessons to hold and teleportation training?” Kennedy tried to keep her tone casual and nonchalant in her attempt to remind him that there was a whole school wanting to talk to him and keep him busy.

“German lessons?” Kurt laughed loud and hard at that. “Besides Fraulein Iris, nobody vants to speak German, not even me. I hef not spoken English in all my life as much as ze past veek and it is a joy.” Turning more serious, he said, “Zhere is a training area on school grounds. Ze Danger Room, I believe Herr Professor called it. Zhat vill be vhere I provide ze physical training for all who wish to study acrobatics, fencing, and other feats such. Ostherwise, I can provide tutoring in humanities and divinity studies. If any of zhat sounds appealing, I vould be happy to help as I can.”

Not that Kurt had spent much time with young ladies in his life, other than Wanda of course, he found himself enjoying Kennedy’s company. She was cultured and brought out the poet in him. Her pragmatism was also refreshing, often turning the conversation back to the here and now. It was a wonderful thing not to feel like a social burden or a nuisance as several of his brother monks had occasionally ascribed to him.
“And if osthers are soon to awaken for ze day, zhen I suggest preparing some breakfast.” Kurt looked toward the refrigerator and cabinetry. “I make good polenta and eggs.”

“You’ll be everyone’s friend if you feed them, meals are like currency around this place.” Kennedy took a few steps out of the way as he began to rummage through the school’s sundries. She knew next to nothing about cooking and decided it was best to simply get out of his way.

So she took a minute to reflect on the skills he had offered for tutelage and training. The suggested classes he had decided to offer were an additional insight into who he was, but there was a constant trend amongst just about everything he did or said. “Your faith, it’s very important to you, isn’t it?”

The question tickled Kurt in a way he had not expected. Living at the monastery afforded him with the luxury of being on the same page as everyone around him. The circus was as diametrically opposed to that as could be, fully multicultural to the point where his identity was treasured for its uniqueness. So few Catholics studied acrobatics. He had wondered on which side of that coin Xavier’s would land. Perhaps now he would see.

“Yes,” Kurt said simply, keeping his initial answer short. He found cornmeal, salt, and butter, which were really the only ingredients he required. “Vould you be a dear and fill a pot of vater?”

The action gave Kurt time to compose his thoughts and formulate an honest answer that did not involve a full homily. “I know ze concept of God is scandalous and I do not mean to be overbearing. My faith… it is like sunlight. Alzhough I cannot look at God, it is only sthrough God zhat I can look at anything else. Zhere hef been many great Doctors of ze Church and I do not presume myself to count among zhem. Vhat I do know and confess is zhat zhere is good in zhis vorld zhat did not come to be by mistake but visth purpose and intent. Faith is not just belief but fidelity to zhat goodness.”

Lowering his head, Kurt thought back to his own hardships and disappointments. “Zhere are times, like vhen I was chased by an angry mob who vanted to kill me because of my appearance, vhen I asked myself, ‘Vhere is God?!’” He bit his lip for a moment, a feeling of anguish coming over him. “But zhen I passed through zhat same village and saw a child who had nosthing to eat… I looked at her face and I heard God ask, ‘Vhere is Kurt?!’”

Kurt rubbed a tear from his eye. “Vhen you at last see ze vorld in zhis vay, then faith is ze only true response. As ze heretic Martin Lusther said, ‘Here I stand, I can do no osther, God help me’.”

“I don’t mind it,” Kennedy timidly confessed. “I actually think it’s kind of nice.” She rummaged through the under the counter storage until she found a pot, Kennedy appeared just as new to this kitchen as Kurt was. “I find myself seeking direction and purpose.”

She filled what she hoped was a large enough pot with water and brought it over to the stove. “My family rejected me when they found out I was a mutant, the life I knew was taken from me when I was abandoned here. My father was a rather well known politician who built his career on being strictly against mutant rights. He was shot on live television last month, I watched it happen. So I have been in this prolonged state of mourning and grief over a life, and a family, and a father that no longer wanted me. Then I met Jace, and he was the first person who made me feel normal and like my old self again. I really loved the idea of being with him, I didn’t feel so alone and lost, I belonged with someone. That feeling of being accepted and cherished, it was something I wanted so badly that I jumped into a relationship with him so fast. And he turned out to be this awful, hurtful, evil person… and I was alone all over again.”

Nodding but staying silent, Kurt began to put the pieces together. Some details were new while others were not, but they began to paint an altogether too familiar picture.

Kennedy took a few steps away from the stove and wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to self-soothe that empty ache inside her heart. It was such a common trend amongst mutants, even those who looked like Kennedy, the rejection and isolation that simply being born different created. It changed people, some for the good and some for the bad. But there was a strength to Kennedy, a refusal to completely succumb to the sadness that threatened to swallow her whole and just as he had witnessed before, she stabilized herself and regained whatever composure she was struggling to maintain.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t ask for any of that.” She waved a dismissive hand through the air, she had just met Kurt and she was already dumping all this miserable, horrible stuff on him. “To get back to my original point, I like the idea of someone maintaining their faith and their identity in moments of hardship, it creates purpose and motivation. It’s nice to know you can walk through hell and keep your soul intact.”

“You vere commiserating and it vas beautiful,” Kurt said gently. “I sthank you for sharing it.” Seeing her resilience and the way Kennedy bounced back from the pit of despair which had risen up to claim her, Kurt couldn’t help but feel admiration. “As it turns out, Fraulein Kennedy, ze path out of hell is a chain formed by one person holding hands visth anosther. Do not lose hope. If true love did not exist, zhen ve vould not be harmed vhen someone’s love proves untrue. Your pain is truly a promise zhat vhat your heart desires is out zhere.”

“Maybe. Someday,” Kennedy said with a touch of longing. “For the time being, I’m sick of having my heart stepped on.”

The water came to a boil, at which point Kurt poured in the cornmeal and added salt. “Polenta is so easy to make. You just boil your base, vhatever it is, and ze salt helps visth zhis as you stir. Reduce heat if possible once it boils again, then add cream and continue stirring.” He was stirring and watching the pot as he spoke. “It does not take long.”

“Are you teaching me how to cook or making some sort of metaphor?” Kennedy said with a chuckle as her hands relaxed from their defensive hug to a more relaxed position across her hips. “Or are you just trying to change the subject to something less depressing?”

Kurt gave her a sidelong glance with a twinkle in his glowing yellow eyes. “Perhaps… all zhese sthings.” As he stirred, he said, “Ze heat is necessary over time. Hell is ze heat wisthout time for it is everlasting. Darkness is eternity wisthout ze heat to purify it. But both of zhem togesther can sustain us by turning ingredients into nourishment. Zhat is vhat hope is. Vhen born from suffering, it never disappoints.”

Once it thickened, Kurt lifted the wooden spoon and blew on it. A small blob of yellow polenta sat with wisps of steam wafting off of it. Kurt took just a taste with a lick of his lips and darted his eyes sideways in consideration.

“Ja, zhis is good!” Kurt offered the spoon to Kennedy. “Try it!”

Kennedy took the spoon from him with some skepticism. While she had never made polenta, she had eaten it before and it seemed like something more than salt and water went into its creation.

As soon as Kennedy took a bite, a look that was half scowl and half disgust came over her face before it soured into a look that matched that of a Persian cat. “Oh Kurt, that’s terrible!” It took all the willpower she had to not spit it out. “It doesn’t taste like anything and it has the texture of wallpaper paste.”

“Ah… then perhaps we add more cream…or cheese if zhere is any.” Kurt went to the refrigerator and opened it up. An array of food options struck him mute. He just stood there and stared with mouth agape.

“Eggs…sausage…peppers…tomatoes.” While he knew what a refrigerator was, this was the first time he had used the oversized one in the mansion kitchen. It was no mere larder. This was a miniature market. “I should have cooked those togesther!”

“What?! You mean this isn’t some monk thing?” Kennedy looked down at the pot of gluey polenta as she dropped the spoon back into it in outrage. “We could have been eating something better for breakfast this whole time!?”

“Ja, ze monks eat it every morning!” Kurt chuckled in mild embarrassment at his terrible choice of cuisine. “But vhen in Rome…” He took the egg carton and assorted produce from the crisper. “I am open to suggestions if you hef any. Everything is good vith eggs.” He looked at the polenta with a long face. “Do you zhink someone else may vant it or should ve dispose of ze evidence before zhey find out?”

“I don’t know what goes into making something taste good, I just eat it afterwards.” She looked down at the polenta, in her previous life she wouldn’t have thought twice about the wasted food. But her time at the school and seeing Beat Street made her a little bit more grateful for things. “I dunno, maybe we can try and salvage it?” Kennedy picked up the wooden spoon that had been thrown into the pot, she stirred the polenta as she contemplated it. “It tasted creamy and cheesy when I had it, so we should probably add those to it.”

“I thought you had crazy monk rules that only allowed you to eat bland, boring food.” She chuckled a little as she thought about their previous interaction. “Just to be clear, you’re not a monk? But you lived with monks and followed their way of life, what’s the difference? Doesn’t that make you a monk by default?”

Kurt chuckled at Kennedy’s question and idly waved his spade-shaped tail behind his head as he explained. “Zhere are different levels. I vas raised from a baby at ze monastery in vhat vas called postulancy until I vas old enough to run avay to ze circus after it came to Winzeldorf. I vas zhere for several years, discovering my gifts and learning ze art of showmanship. Zhat vas vhere I fell in love vith Vanda. I vas only sixteen years of age vhen I vanted to marry her, but she left…”

He let out a hard sigh. Even after all these years, the pain was fresh. “And so I returned to ze monastery as a novice. I lived among zhe monks for two more years and took temporary vows vhen I came of age at eighteen years. Soon I must decide if I am to continue in my formation with more temporary vows or to take solemn vows in perpetuity. Only zhen would I be a fully vested brosther of ze Order of St. Francis.” A smirk came over his face, like he was about to reveal a secret. “Searching for Vanda zhese past months has led me to set zhat aside for now. I must find her and see her safe before I can do aught else.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t realize you were at such a major crossroads in your life.” Kennedy stopped grating the wedge of Parmesan cheese into the polenta to look over at him. Kurt was on the precipice of taking vows to become an actual monk but his drive to find his lost love was preventing him from committing to what Kennedy assumed was a rather quiet and humble life. “What do you expect to happen once you find Wanda?”

“I… I ask myself zhat every day,” Kurt said. “I vish I had an answer. My heart hopes zhat… zhat perhaps ve can…” He looked away and down at the floor. “No, zhat is folly. I just cannot be at peace until I know she is safe. God vill understand.” A wry smile returned to his blue lips. “He has all eternity. A little bit of time to rescue a lost lamb vill surely be all right.”

“You hope that she still has feelings for you. It’s okay to say that and to hope for that.” Kennedy said with a shrug as she went back to grating cheese, “You guys called it off because she left for the Brotherhood but now that her brother has left Magneto, you’re hoping now that the wedge that was placed between you has been removed you two can rekindle what you once had.”

Kennedy stirred the polenta, it was now only half cornmeal, the other half was cream and cheese. “You still love her. Why else would you spend months looking for her?”

“I do,” Kurt admitted at length. “And I don't know if I should. Not in all ze vays zhat I do. Zhis quest is a proving to reveal whesther I have ze grace from God for a solemn vow or if I hef another calling somevhere else.” He gave a wistful smile. “If she does love me as before, zhen that would be a sure sign.”

“Just one more reason to find her then and I hope you do.” Kennedy dared to taste the polenta again, it was now much smoother and creamy in appearance compared to what it had been before.

“Oh that tastes so much better.” She offered the wooden spoon to Kurt just as he had earlier. “Now try it.”

Kurt slurped it and blinked his eyes in surprise. “Oh my! You must hef put half of a week's vorth of cheese into ze pot but now I see vhy! Zhat tastes so much better!” Remembering where the serving plates were, Kurt retrieved some bowls. “And now ve eat!”

"Yeah, a little ingenuity and positivity and this turned out okay..." She spooned the polenta into the bowls as Kennedy considered everything that had happened these past few days along with this morning. She would be alright as long as she didn't surrender to her heartache, the world had a way of providing beautiful and happy things as long as you looked for them. "And cheese, cheese always fixes things."

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