Valorie

Chapter Four

  Valorie stared at her reflection on the mirror hanging on her bed room wall. She was standing in a frumpy, black dress. The material was baggy, noisy, and uncomfortable, and the shape of the dress was unflattering on anyone. The chest piece was super short, with poofy, transparent lace sleeves that wrapped around her boney shoulders. Her hair was already ratted, greasy, and tangled, because she hardly washed it or brushed it for school, let alone on a weekend where she had no obligation to look presentable. She didn't wear nice clothes outside of the house, and mostly owned sweats, leggings, and t-shirts, so she certainly didn't have much formal wear. This was probably the nicest garment she had, tucked in the back of her closet, and it still fit her after at least half a decade.
  If I still had my mom, Valorie thought, maybe I'd be more into this girly stuff, like Janis is. Her Dad wasn't much of a fashion man, and he didn't know the first thing about girl's or women's fashion. As long as she was dressed and decently clean, that's all that mattered to him.
  Valorie really couldn't care less, because she was far more concerned with Janis than she was with the silly dance. Every day she had a new story to share about her new endowment. How she figured out a new trick, like leaving the scolding-hot water running in the sink or bath, and then stick her appendages into it like it was a cool, summer stream. She could pull hot pans straight from the oven with her bare hands. Eventually, it seemed Janis didn't really feel the heat of hot burns, even if her skin was melting at the touch. She would heat up the end of a sewing needle and draw shapes into her skin, then watch them disappear seconds later. It was unbearable for Valorie.
           Every time she complained about Sylvester, Valorie's heart raced with anxiety. She had to convince her to keep up the charade, but the more he acted completely ungrateful for Janis, the more Valorie felt like she was grasping at straws trying to keep them together. The biggest convincing factor at this point was to fuel her fantasies of going to that school dance. As much as Valorie hated it, she had to do it. She decided this ugly dress was good enough, and then immediately crawled out of it. She wasn't looking forward to wearing that thing all night, and she was starting to regret not looking around for a better one when she had the chance. It was too late now, though, as the dance was tomorrow night. She had almost completely forgotten the fact that she'd be living in another city in two weeks.
           There was a knock at her bedroom door.
           "Val? Honey? Family dinner's tonight, remember?" Her Dad asked as he peered through the door.
           "Okay..." She sighed, still gazing at her reflection.
           "What's with the dress? We're you plan on wearing it to dinner?" He chuckled, picking her old dress up off of the floor. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Why not? It'd be cute!" He grinned. She stared up at him for a moment, and decided it was a good idea to finally let him in on the recent events.
           "It's for the dance. A boy asked me to go." She sighed, causing him to look up at her in surprise. He smiled for a moment, and then he began to glare, eyeing the dress as he thought about a boy going anywhere near his daughter. Then he smiled again after shaking his head.
           "Honey! This is great! See? I told you you'd be asked to go, you're too pretty to not have a dance date." He chuckled, walking over to her. She was frowning, and staring sadly at the ground, "What? You're not happy?" He sat down next to her, "This guy a jerk or something? You know if you ever needed me to deal with a dumb boy, I would—"
           "No, Dad," she chuckled, "It's not that... I mean, the guy who asked me is... okay... but it's not that."
           "Well, then what is it, songbird?" He asked, resting a gentle, comforting hand on her opposite shoulder. She bit her bottom lip, thinking about everything that had been bothering her for the last week. She sighed deeply.
           "It's Janis... she... she got her endowment before me..." Valorie's voice was nearly silent, just barely getting the words past her quivering lips. She felt like something was weighing down her chest, and squeezing her eyeballs from behind their sockets. Her Dad was shocked, and stared at her glassy eyes and weak expression. He was speechless for a good thirty seconds.
           "My dear..." He finally whispered, wiping a stray tear from his daughter's eyes, "It's going to be okay. You know, it's okay to be mad about this... I understand why you would be." And just as he finished his sentence, Valorie broke down into a pitiful fit of sobs. She covered her face with her tiny, pale hands, soaking the ends of her sleeves with tears and snot. He sighed, pulling her close so she could cry into his snazzy black button-up.
           "Why does the world hate me? Why can't I just be a normal kid with normal friends, and normal powers, and a normal family, and a normal mom, and..." Her words faded into more soft wails as her father pet the back of her hair. He hushed her crying, and sighed deeply.
           "Val, I have no idea why you don't have your powers yet. And your mother... Well, she kept a lot hidden from me... there's a lot we both don't understand," He explained, finally causing her breathing to slow down, "If there was something I could do... to fix all of this... I would do it today, right now. But... I don't even know where to begin..."
           His words comforted her a lot, surprisingly. It was nice to know that she wasn't the only one who felt so lost and helpless, and to know her father wasn't hiding anything from her was even better. Still, it hurt. It all hurt so bad, and no matter what he told her, it would never go away. It just wasn't fair. She couldn't stop wondering what she'd done to deserve the miserable life she was living now. At least she had her Dad, though. He was the only good thing about it.
           "Janis said I'm going to get mine soon too, since she got hers..." Valorie mentioned quietly, making him smile.
           "I like that sort of positive thinking. And I don't see why that wouldn't be true. If she waited this long and turned out fine, then the same could be said for you, too." He said, making her nod in agreement.
           "Dad... what if I never get my endowment? And I mean really. You've told me for years that, medically, I should have one... it's present in my genes... but what if it never awakens? What will happen to me?" She asked. He didn't have an answer, just a worried, thoughtful expression that swept across his face, "Will they ship me to U.S.I.D.D.?"
           "I'm not gonna let that happen, Val. Even if you are disabled, I won't ever let them take you away from me. You're my baby girl. I'll hide you away forever if I have to." He smiled, patting her back. She smiled softly, burying her head into his shoulder. She really needed to hear that.
  Eventually, she pulled herself together. They began talking about dinner, and her Dad brought up the moving pods coming that week, reminding her of the big expedition that had completely left her mind the past few weeks.
  "Yep, so grandma, grandpa, uncle Don, auntie Cath, and your cousins are coming." He warned her as he turned the heat down on the stove. Valorie rolled her eyes. She only had two of them in the whole world, but she hated when her cousins came over. D.J., who was about the same age as her— only a few years younger— constantly made fun of her for not having powers whenever he came around. Little Mark was much younger than the two of them, only four years old, but he, of course, already had his endowment too, making a mockery of Valorie just with his young presence.
           She was, however, excited to see her grandparents. This would be the last time their family ate dinner together before the next holiday, since they would soon live thousands of miles away from them.
  There was a knock at the door, and Steven went to answer it. As the door swung open, three identical old ladies burst through the door.
  "Hello, Steven!" They all smiled and cheered in unison, each of them placing a kiss on his cheek as they came inside.
  "Hey, Mom! Or, I guess, Moms." He happily greeted each of her clones as they busily ran through the small living room.
  "Oh, Stevie, your house always looks so lovely! Do you need help packing, dear?" One clone chimed, smiling around at all of the furniture gradually being tucked into cardboard boxes.
  "How's dinner going, sweetie? Did you season this already?" Another clone questioned at nearly the same time, having a taste of the soup that was simmering on the stove.
  "Valorie! My darling! How are you, my sweet girl?" The third clone cooed at her granddaughter, wrapping her in a big hug.
  "Hi, grandma." She giggled, hugging her back.
  "Oh, Valorie!" The other two clones quickly abandoned their tasks to go suffocate the girl as well. Valorie laughed as she was smothered by three identical grandmas.
  "Where's Dad and Don?"
  "Oh, they're outside, sweetie." The three clones creepily responded in unison once again.
  "Clone number four is grabbing the casserole I made." The first clone said.
  "It's your favorite!" Another sang.
  "Lancashire hotpot!" The last one finished her statement.
  "Yes! You're the best, mom!"
  "Hello! Anyone home?" Grandpa questioned as he barged through the half-shut door, carrying in a box of sodas, with his large beer belly hanging out from under his polyethylene fishing shirt.
  "Hey, Dad! Hey, Don. D.J.! My favorite oldest nephew!" Steven greeted his family as his older brother followed their Dad through the door, carrying his small, preteen son on his back. D.J. hopped down and ran to give him a hug.
  "Don't move away, uncle Steve! Who's gonna clone my five-dollar bills in order to have ten dollars?" He asked, making his uncle laugh.
  "D.J., you know I can't do that anymore, anyway, I could get in big trouble for doing that. It's called counterfeiting, and it's totally illegal."
  "Ple-e-e-ease! No one will know!" He smiled, wrapping around his arm and climbing on his legs.
  "Hey, last time I cloned money for you, your mom got really mad. She yelled at me, remember?" He smiled.
  "I won't tell her, either!" He grinned. Steven laughed again, and scooped him up to throw him over his shoulders. Grandma's fourth clone walked through the door, holding a casserole covered in tinfoil in her arms. There was even a fifth clone of her— which was usually a work out for Valorie's little grandmother, because five clones was her maximum clone capacity— holding a bulging, heavily pregnant aunt Cathy by the arm.
  "Hey, Cath! Wow, you're glowing!" Steven set down her eldest child and gestured to her invitingly. She rolled her eyes.
  "Oh, stop it. We can address the elephant in the room... it's me... I'm frickin' huge..." She huffed before immediately taking a seat on the nearest armchair. Grandma's fifth clone helped her get comfortable, and then shuffled towards her other clones.
  "What? Huge? You're hardly even showing!" He smiled at her with a hint of sarcasm, and she stared back at him with an annoyed expression, resting her exhausted arms on her beach-ball sized lump of a stomach. They both shared a small chuckle as she shook her head.
  "So, you guys finally figure out a name for her?" Steven asked towards his brother, leaning against the back of his sofa.
  "Not really. Cathy's always been worried about having a girl, because she always knew she'd be super indecisive about a name." Don said, gesturing to his miserably tired wife.
  "Well, I do like the name Piper." Cathy commented breathlessly.
  "Piper? Yeck! Why would you give her such an ugly name?" Grandpa blurted from the kitchen, causing Cathy to shoot him a dirty look.
  "Well she hates every name I've come up with so far." Don shrugged.
  "That's not true! I liked the name Kimberly. Until you told me you had an ex-girlfriend named Kimberly..." Cathy explained, glaring at him even harder. He put his hands up in defense as Steven laughed aloud.
  "I like the name Mary." Grandma's first clone said.
  "Oh! Or Bethany." Said another, fusing into the first clone, resulting in one less grandma.
  "I also like the name Charlie, for a girl, or Elvira, Donna, Dianna..." She explained as her clones fused into each other one by one, until there was only one elderly woman in the room, "I do always wish I had a daughter. But instead I got stuck with two smelly sons!" She declared with a laugh.
  "I want to name her Echo, like Echo Evans!" D.J. said, referring to the famous superhero that was well-known for her powerful ability to destroy buildings with just her voice. She was regularly seen on the news, along with hundreds of other celebrity superheroes and villains, who mostly reside in the larger cities near the coast.
  "Son, everyone and their dog is named after Echo Evans. I've either met or heard about at least three new Echos in the last year. Besides, she's not going to have any vocal or hearing abilities, so it wouldn't make sense to name her Echo." Cathy explained.
  "How do you know?" D.J. crossed his arms.
  "Because nobody in our family has vocal or hearing abilities." She said.
  "Maybe she'll have a mutation and develop a power that nobody in our family has!" He smiled.
  "Sure. And maybe your Dad will finally fix the toilet in the downstairs bathroom..." Cathy shot her husband another look, and Don rolled his eyes at his wife's constant nagging.
  "I want to name her... Bob." Mark smiled, causing the adults to laugh.
  "I like the name Bob. What about you, sweetie?" Don laughed, picking up his younger son.
  "Yes, that would be the perfect name for our daughter." Cathy responded in a tired, sarcastic tone.
  "What? How is 'Bob' better than 'Echo'?" D.J. complained.
  "They don't really mean it, stupid." Valorie laughed, making him turn to her. That was a huge mistake, and it was the first word she had spoken to the rest of her family.
  "Oh. Look. It's my freakazoid cousin who doesn't have a power." He answered her, causing Valorie to glare.
           "D.J., remember what I said about you talking about Valorie's endowment problems...? it's rude." Don said.
           "What? She's fine, she's used to it by now," he laughed. Valorie grumbled and crossed her arms, wishing her uncle and aunty would just take the stupid brat home.
           "Knock it off." Don spoke through his teeth, staring his kid down.
           "Okay, okay! So-rry! I'm just joking around, jeez... hey, Valorie, guess what, I just got a new PR in my last track meet," he immediately began, and Valorie continued to glare at him, already knowing exactly where he was going, "You know what in? Hurdle jump relays. Wanna see?"
           Before anyone could protest, D.J. darted to the back of the room and reared himself towards the couch.
           "No, D.J., not in the house!!—" His mother yelled before he used his endowment to spring his legs, sending him six or seven feet into the air, nearly slamming his head into the roof. His head hit the ceiling fan, and he just barely missed the coffee table, knocking only a few things over as he stumble into a landing.
           "D.J.!!" His mother shrieked.
           "I-It's okay! My fault, Cathy! Last time he was here I had my furniture moved around because I had just finished a really big project... D.J., just because we have half of our belongings packed up, doesn't mean you can jump around my house right now, bud. You're endowment is very impressive, but my couch isn't tucked up against the wall, and there's half a dozen people in this room." He explained to him sternly, giving his enraged mother a little peace of mind.
           "Stop being an idiot! You could've killed yourself!" She told him.
           "And your uncle has a nicer house than us, so if you break his shit and we have to pay for it, you're dead meat, kid." His father pointed at him, making him cower a little.
           "Really, it's okay, everything of importance is already tucked away in the boxes. This stuff is all replaceable. Besides, he's just showing us his ability." Steven reiterated, causing his older brother to roll his eyes, but D.J. smiled in response to his Uncle's words of encouragement.
           "Yeah, Dad. You don't get to be head of the track team for nothing." He began showing off his ability once again, stretching out the length of his legs and torso, growing and shrinking back and forth. The size and structure of his face never changed along with his body, so it gave him the distorted appearance of an adult with a child's tiny head. But he used his ability to give him an extra spring with his jumps, and that's what made him so good at running and hurdle jumping.
           "Da-a-a-ad!" Valorie whined, pissed that her Dad didn't see that her cousin was mocking her yet again, "He's still making fun of me!"
           "D.J.!" His mother began with a helpless scoff, hardly able to get out of the chair to scold him.
           "Alright, enough! Val, it's fine. I really think you should stop taking everything so personally..." Her father told her. She frowned at him, and looked back at her obnoxious cousin. A malicious, cocky look crossed over him as he continued to stretch and compress his body.
  "D.J. I swear, I don't give a flying rat's butt what your uncle says, if you're being mean to your cousin, I will slap you." Cathy told him, ballooning her hand up to the size of her head in a threatening manner, as it was all she had from the baby weighing her down to the chair. Her endowment was the ability to inflate any one part of her body at a time to an exponential size.
           She actually had serious ambitions of expanding her uterus after she went into labor in order to have an easier birth, which she had actually done before with the first two boys. Although, the sight of it probably wasn't as beautiful and simple as one might imagine. Valorie had seen hospital pictures depicting her aunty with an abnormally swollen stomach, as if she was giving birth to ten kids at once. For a long time she didn't understand why that happened other than, "she was using her endowment to help her feel better". To Valorie it looked excruciating, and it wasn't until she learned exactly how babies were born that she actually got the gist of it. It also took a lot of effort for Cathy to expand her body parts, so it wasn't like she could hold herself in that position easily. Aunt Cathy compared expanding her uterus during childbirth to holding a plank, at least after the first twenty minutes of labor. It helped a lot with the pain, at first, and she also said it made both deliveries very fast and relatively easy. After that, it was a battle between fighting contractions and birth pains, and pushing her expanding ability to its limits.
  "She won't even have to get up from her seat. I'll just smack you from over here." Don lifted his arm, and they all watched as it stretched and contorted its way towards his son from across the room. D.J. squealed slightly, running away from his wriggling fingers. His brother giggled and followed him as he ran by. His Dad's arm got more elongated and distorted the farther they moved away. This was a pretty normal sight for the two boys, but it was still pretty unsettling whenever Valorie saw him do it. Arms just aren't supposed to stretch and bend like that... his hand eventually caught the two boys and reeled them back towards him in a sweeping motion.
           Valorie has always been slightly put-off by her aunt and Uncle's abilities, but they were pretty average, all things considered. Her uncle Don was an architect and construction worker, and Aunt Cathy was simply a receptionist at some bank. She didn't have to use her endowment very regularly at work, unlike Don, who was constantly doing the heavy lifting with his stretchy arms within his career.
           "What do you think the babies endowment will be, mom?" D.J. suddenly asked, stopping next to his mother after prying away from Don.
           "I have no idea," She answered him bluntly, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I just hope it's not unmanageable. You boys have pretty easy abilities. So I know I'm in for a treat with this one..." She told him, staring worriedly as she stroked her belly.
           "D.J. was not easy... by the time he was seven, he was able to reach for his iPad off of the top of his bookshelf whenever I grounded him." Don reminded her, giving his son a playful stink eye, making him giggle as he leaned into his mom. Grandma laughed too.
           "Just like his father! I used to take away Don's toys and games like that too, but he'd creep his little arms up my china cabinet and snatch it behind my back!" She said, causing everyone to share another chuckle.
           "Yeah, but between our family's weird genetics, who knows what she'll be able to do. It could be a mix of anything. The possibilities are... overwhelming." Cathy sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose and rubbing her eyes with her thumb and first finger once again.
           "Oh please, if David Bolt could raise his hell-spawn of a daughter, then how hard could it be?" Don laughed.
           "Oh, god. Can you imagine raising a toddler that can phase through solid matter..." She heaved, looking to her husband with eyes almost as big as her pregnant stomach.
           "Well, I imagine it'd be easier if you can run faster than a sports car." He shrugged, nudging his brother, who during the course of the conversation, stood there looking between them with a nervous expression.
           "How could you even baby proof a house for a kid like that? They could get into anything. Constantly get out of their crib or bedroom... Can you imagine if they wandered off through the wall of some random building?" She shook her head. The family nodded in agreement.
           "I'd say she'll probably have some sort of shape-shifting ability, like you two." Grandpa said, finally barging his large frame into the room. He looked down as his current youngest grandchild, and rubbed his dark head of hair, "Marky's endowment was actually quite a surprise to me."
           "I know. You think he got that from you, Dad?" Don smiled.
           "Oh, I bet he did. Marky, show grandpa your eye ball." Grandpa instructed, bending down towards little Mark and squinting at him with one eye. Mark smiled shyly, before a large, glassy eye suddenly opened on the center of his forehead. It worked in unison with his other two eyes, including blinking and sparkling beautifully. Everyone cooed at him as he looked around with a big smile. Grandpa laughed, and suddenly two more arms slipped out from his big, baggy short sleeves on his shirt.
           "You see? Our endowments are kinda the same, huh?" He nudged him with one of his new arms, "We both gots retractable body parts. You gots a retractable eye ball, and I gots retractable arms!" He exclaimed, wiggling twenty fingers above Mark's head. He laughed.
           "What does retrac-able mean?" Mark tilted his head in a questioning manner, all three of his eyes blinking inquisitively.
           "It means we can pull them back in and look like regular guys!" Grandpa explained, suddenly retracting his arms back into his sleeves, leaving no trace of them underneath his shirt.
           "Oh yeah!" Mark giggled, closing his third eye, and allowing the skin of his third pair of eyelids to fold over into an unnoticeable forehead crease. Valorie stared at Mark with her eyebrows furrowed, unable to conceal her jealousy any longer. She actually quite adored Mark before he got his power. So really, not since he was a little baby. He was a very sweet, adorable kid, who she'd often help take care of, played with, and even sort of related to, whenever her Aunt and Uncle would come around. But then a bump appeared on his forehead one day, and after an unusual day-long nap, and plenty of worrying from his parents, he woke up yawning and rubbing a third, retractable eye on the center of his face. It only made him more heart-melting. Valorie would love to have an endowment like his.
           "Oh, what a darling. Come here, sweet boy." Grandma sang with delight as she sat down on the sofa, gesturing for the little boy to come to her. He ran over and hoped on her knees like a lap dog.
           The family sat down around the living room and continued to visit. Valorie migrated to the empty kitchen, self-isolating as usual. She stared at her phone, and listened in on the conversations, but she was a little too timid to be apart of them. She wished she could retreat back to her room, but she knew this would be the last time she'd see everyone, so her Dad wouldn't allow it. She stared at the pot of boiling soup, and the Casserole that, remarkably, still had little clouds of steam sneaking out past the foil. It smelled delicious, and Valorie was starting to get hungry.
           "D.J. got his endowment when he was four, and Mark was just about to turn two... Don and I both got ours pretty early, as well as you, Steven." Cathy explained, partly just thinking out loud as they discussed their new child's possible endowment further.
           "And don't forget, your sister. She developed her biophysical augmentation as a survival reflex when she was just an itty bitty little thing, right?" Don reminded her.
           "Oh, right. She developed it at birth because she was premature and her lungs weren't fully developed. But my sister has always been a fighter." Cathy explained.
  "I think Steven got his earlier than mine, too." Don mentioned.
  "That's not right, no, I distinctly remember you getting your endowment far before Steven ever did." Grandma said with a puzzled expression.
  "No, mom, I mean Steve got his when he was like three, and I was almost five when I got mine. I only had mine for a year before he got his." He said, gesturing to his little brother with a slight roll of the eyes. Grandma laughed aloud, and grandpa chuckled along with her.
  "Oh, yes, that's right. You were so bitter and jealous about it." She said with a wave of her hand.
  "How come he gets his endowment when he's three?" Grandpa said, mimicking his young son from the past. The family laughed again after Don shot them an annoyed look, "Yeah, I reckon she'll get hers pretty young, too, if she's anything like her uncle."
  "I think four or five years is better. At least by then they're toilet trained!" Cathy spoke, causing another laugh from the room, "That's one less thing to worry about. But even a little older than that would be nice. Steven, how old was Valorie again when she got her endowment?" Cathy questioned him before realizing the severity of her sentence. She only understood the impact of her words when the laughter suddenly died, and everyone was gawking at Steven and then immediately averting their gazes anywhere else. D.J. covered his mouth to conceal his vindictive smile, and he had to force back a laugh. Steven winced, his shoulders became still in a tensed up position, and he just stared dead at the ground as his face flashed between a nervous smile and a look of constrained despair.
  Valorie stood frozen in the kitchen. These types of moments paralyzed her, and she shook as all of the words and scenarios that could possibly follow filled her head. How could aunt Cathy forget? She was her father's only child! It's not like she could get her mixed up with anyone! And then again, she hand multiple siblings and several of her own nieces and nephews. She knew it was just an accident, but she wanted to run out and punch her aunty in the nose.
  "Oh..." Cathy slapped a hand over her the lipstick speared across her mouth, "Shit... I-I always forget that—" she cleared and scratched her throat with her long, red polished nails, desperately hoping for someone to change the topic for her.
  "Valorie is uh... she's fifteen now. She... still has no endowment..." Steven let out a nervous chuckle, letting the words fall very slowly and carefully from his mouth. Valorie felt her heart drop deep down to the pit of her guts. She choked down the glob of saliva in the back of her throat and took a step forward to peer into the living room. She felt betrayed. Why did he say that? What was her dad thinking? Everyone was looking at each other in a slight surprise.
  "But... she's a normal little girl. She has friends, and hobbies, and a regular schedule. She has a date to her school dance tomorrow night! She is healthy in every way, except..." Steven trailed off as he saw his family's eyes began to nervously wander again.
  "I'm only saying all of this because," Steven looked back and caught a glimpse of his daughter's eyes from the kitchen before she quickly stepped back. He sighed deeply, "I don't know what else to do. I've been taking her to pediatrician after pediatrician, doctor after doctor, and all of her tests come back positive. They come back good. I just don't get it... she should have her endowment by now, she should have awoken it..."
  Valorie wanted to scream. She clutched handfuls of her half-brushed black hair. Why was he saying all of this? Everyone already knew this about her, so what was the point of dragging all of her business out into the open again in front of the whole family? She stuck to the wall, trying to look at them again without being seen.
  "Honey... we're all starting to really worry. She's fifteen and she still doesn't have an endowment?" Grandma repeated the reality once again, crushing Valorie's self esteem a million times over, "That's not right... at this rate..." she looked towards her husband, who she had been married to and experienced life with for over forty years. He took her wrinkly hand in his with a solemn look on his face, "Well... we've seen what they do to those poor people... it's very rare, but some people never get their endowments their whole lives. If Valorie hasn't gotten hers yet... the odds aren't looking good for her future... You won't have any control over what they do with her..." She shook her head, speaking in a very soft tone.
  The room went cold, as if someone had just been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Valorie stared at the ground with glassy eyes, with a hurricane of thoughts swirling through her mind. She wanted to crumble to the floor, and she felt her knees buckling, but she leaned onto the counter to keep herself from being found in such a pathetic position. Her family loved gossip, but rarely did they mention any of Valorie's issues on more than a surface-level basis. It was one of those things that was just a little too serious to laugh about. To them, and all of the staff at her school, they were supposed to treat her like a normal person. Treated like her cousins, as if she developed at a normal rate, and was bestowed her abilities in a timely manner. She wanted to cry yet again.
           "I-I think the city will be really good for her. I've been doing some research about it... Nison's culture is so much different than ours. They have this standard in their society— where people don't use their endowments as much! See, their state government has this product called Ultrinide, have you heard of it?" Steven began to explain what he'd learned about the city, but his mother interrupted him.
           "Honey, I think the city is what's best for you and Valorie, but that doesn't erase the fact that if she doesn't receive her endowment soon, the government will get involved." She said, causing her elderly husband to nod.
           "You're lucky so much has changed since we were your age. They used to cart people off to U.S.I.D.D. for... well... nothin' it seemed." He said with a shrug and a look of disbelief.
           "It was different times. We weren't as technologically advanced as we are now. And the cities used to be a terrible place to live if you had disabilities... We didn't understand the complete science behind them. But... just because we've solved people's deficiencies with the endowments they were given... we have little knowledge or understanding about people who have no endowment at all," She said, looking to her son again, "It's just such a rare condition... The only thing that gives me hope... her positive test results." Steven shook his head in agreement.
           "What about her test results?" Cathy questioned, still not entirely caught up in Valorie's deep, dark, not-so-secret secret.
           "Well, the few people who are born without endowments don't have any trace of the Gods' genetic coding in their DNA. They are simply... disabled... but Valorie does. She has her own version of the Gods' bestowment running through her veins, and it matches mine and her mother's perfectly... it just won't manifest itself..."  He sighed.
           "That's so strange..." Cathy commented, and her husband nodded as he pursed his lips.
           "Honey..." Grandma said, looking at Steven from across the living room. His eyes were filled with concern, and his shoulders hadn't relaxed since Cathy raised the question about Valorie's endowment, "Things are going to be okay... you can cross that bridge when you get to it, but for now, just focus on your fresh, new start in the city. We've put this conversation on the back burner for so long... but it's because... we don't know what to do for her either..." She shook her head. Steven looked at the ground, and an almost identical glassy appearance became of his eyes, just like his young daughter's whenever she was on the verge of tears.
           "God... I wish Cecilia was here... She always... knew what to do..." He sighed deeply in a broken voice. The two couples all looked at each other with ache and concern. The two young boys looked around at their family members with confusion, yet a sadness that they could vaguely understand. Valorie already had tears running down her face from the room over. She took the long sleeve of her filthy sweater and scrubbed her eyes with it. Many seconds of agonizing silence passed, and finally, Grandpa jumped out of his saddened daze and clapped his hands together very loudly.
           "Ah, come on, now! I can't have my last meeting with my whole family be all serious and grim... I'm starving!" He boomed towards the small crowd of people. Valorie gasped slightly, and quickly finished drying her face.
           "Come on, son. Didn't you make your famous French Onion soup?" Grandpa pulled out his other two arms, and reached around, grabbing Steven firmly by the shoulders with two hands, and guiding him towards the kitchen with the other two. His father's familiar, contagiously joyful aura lightened the atmosphere once again, and he finally relaxed at his dear father's heavy touch as he was pushed into the kitchen. When he stepped in, Valorie was nowhere to be seen. He went ahead and grabbed the plates and silverware. Grandma brought out two of her clones to help him set the table. Don pulled out a seat for his pregnant wife and got his boys settled and ready to dine. Grandpa was sneaking tastes of all of the side dishes and the entrée, as well as helping ladle soup into several bowls.
           There was a flush from the bathroom in the hallway, followed by Valorie shuffling out the door with a blank expression, and her cell phone in her hand.
           "Hey!" Steven greeted her. He looked back at Grandpa, who was looking between them with a slightly questionable expression. Steven looked back at his daughter, and in her eyes, he knew she heard their entire conversation, "Uh... you didn't sneak off to your room again, did you?" Valorie stared at him. Sometimes the vacant, emotionless faces she made really scared him. He knew she was terrible at concealing her emotions, so when she seemed to have none, it was almost eery to him.
           "Yeah... I did..." She finally lied in a quiet tone. Steven sighed with ease, and smirked at her. They both knew the conversation was needed. At least to help him handle their situation as a father. She felt good knowing she didn't have to be apart of it. Grandpa seemed to have a mixed look of relief and approval as he walked away with a bowl of soup in each of his four hands.
           "You little butt. You better eat with us." He said, and then handed her a bowl of soup for herself. She looked down at the hot, yellowish, creamy liquid within the ceramic pottery. Then she finally smiled back at him. They walked back to the table together and enjoyed their meal with their family. Nobody mentioned Valorie's endowment again, not even her snarky cousin.