Mike & Karen Ch. 10

Karen turned out to be superior to both families in every conceivable way. Her personal brilliance was obvious -- be it in mathematics, physics, music, dancing or languages, she easily outshone her peers and family members. She was regal and beautiful, with bronze hair carrying hints of red, like her Gordon family. But neither family had her eyes, those unique, almost golden eyes, like a wolf or hawk's. No one had ever seen anything like it.

Her singular capacity for numbers and sciences had been a direct gift of her father, as were her cool aloofness and patrician air. But from her mother came a willful defiance and individuality. Few changed Karen's mind by advice, none by force. Even her parents knew better than to try.

And for the first eighteen years of her life, Karen had lived without a rival, someone who matched her or could keep up with her.

Until an oversized man from Kapuskasing had happened by.

"I'm glad you're having such a good time," Mike texted back. "Text me or call me whenever you like. Sleep well."

"Ahbak ya 'aeaz!"

"QamuSha!"

He put the laptop aside and settled down into the bed, noticing how odd it felt, how ... wrong ... that Karen wasn't there with him. He would manage, of course, because it was only a week, but that didn't mean he had to like it. And he certainly had no intention of getting used to it.

The silvery moonbeam touching her side of the bed through the window was a cold companion.

***

1986 ...

Mike was walking down College, heading west on his way to get some falafel from a place that was popular with the students. Crossing Spadina, he walked by the Scott Mission, which seemed abnormally busy for this day of the week.

He wasn't far past it when he paused. Turning around, he peered at the building suspiciously for a few seconds before turning and continuing on his way.

And paused again. Something was off.

Almost against his will, he found himself turning about and heading back toward the mission. He made a wry face as he noticed people lined up to get inside. Stranger still, he could see some students leaving the mission. What were they doing there?

It occurred to him that he'd heard a rumour that hospitality students were being recruited to help with an understaffed charity, but he'd been so focused on his current quantum challenge that he hadn't really paid any attention until now.

He made his way through the lineup and crowd easily enough, since no one seemed intent on stopping him. He could smell the food from the kitchen and the dining hall, so whatever had drawn the crowds would no doubt be found in there.

But what was this niggling suspicion of his?

He walked through the doors, strode into the hall and froze, a look of sheer bewilderment on his face.

Standing behind the food line wearing chef's aprons were his mother and father, Orion and Anna, along with his uncles Phil and Mordecai and their sister Dorian. Rushing around the room, grabbing plates and refilling glasses were his own siblings, Connor, Veronica and Joshua, along with his cousin Cameron.

There were even other members of his family scuttling by.

"Mike!" his burly father out cheerfully, waving at him with a spatula and beckoning him over. "Are you just going to stand there like a lump? Come help your mother with the lasagna already!"

Mike did not heed his progenitor's command, however, but just stared in disbelief. Ronnie waved at him as she hurried by, carrying an armful of plates. What the Hell was happening?

Then he saw three familiar women. Mona was trundling a wheeled tray of foil-covered food into the kitchen, while Janet, his occasional lover, was spooning out gravy onto people's mashed potatoes and talking with them all. He noticed Lisa come around the corner out of the pantry, but she saw him staring at her, squeaked and darted back out of sight.

His expression and mood darkened, because he may not have known what was going on, but he had a fairly good idea of who could tell him what he wanted to know. His gaze scanned over the room, but he didn't see his quarry anywhere.

No, if she wasn't here ...

Taking no further notice of his parents' calls to him, Mike strode through the dining hall, towering over everyone, his family included. And they were not small people. No one seemed to notice him make his way to a door at the back and exit the hall, heading for the administrative offices. He had just turned a corner when Karen Gordon came bustling out of an office, her hands full of folders full of paper. She stopped dead in front of his imposing bulk and looked up at him.

Outside, she remained resolute-looking, but inside, the sight of him sent a shiver or exquisite terror up her spine. It would be a minor miracle if she didn't pee herself, he'd been so unexpected.

Dammit, the girls were supposed to tell her if he showed up. Did she have to do everything?

"Annnnd what can I do for you today, kind sir?" she asked, hoping her voice was louder and firmer than it sounded to her.

"Do I really need to spell this out for you, Gordon?" he asked, trying to not sound too forceful. He didn't want her to think he was trying to bully her. "What on earth is my family doing here? Last time I checked, they were in Kapuskasing, a thousand kilometers away. Now, they're here in a soup kitchen in Toronto. No offense, but this reeks of you."

"Well, one might ask what the big deal is," Karen reasoned, still not backing down. "The Scott needed help, immediately. I asked them, and they were kind enough to say yes. It was really very lovely of them."

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Mike said, his fingers twitching. "You live in a city of nearly three million people. My family lives a long, long ways away in a Northern Ontario town of a few thousand. You got access to a university with a student population larger than my hometown, many of whom would be more than happy to donate their time to a worthy cause. Why, then, did you feel the need to import your temporary labour? New York City is technically closer to Toronto than Kapuskasing is."

"These people needed help," Karen replied. "Their entire staff, except for the kitchen manager, up and quit yesterday. Volunteers are required until they can rehire or replace the staff. It's a great honour to help these people, DeBourne, and I immediately thought of your family when I realized the mission's plight. They were flattered I'd thought of them and asked them to help. Why is this such a bother for you?"

"Gordon, they're from Kapuskasing," Mike said, straining to keep the hiss out of his voice. "In fact, dad's from Moose Factory, which makes Kapuskasing look like Toronto, and mom's from Head-Smashed-In-Buffalo-Jump in Alberta originally. A shiny gum wrapper discarded on the sidewalk here in Toronto would be exciting for them. How on earth did you subvert my family?"

"I did no such thing," Karen announced, trying to stand tall next to him and losing badly; she barely cleared his sternum. "I asked them to help, because I could not think of people more deserving of this chance than them. They are the nicest people I know, without question."

"You don't know them at all, you ding-dong," Mike shot back. "And not to put too fine a point on it, but I am reasonably certain that they can't afford to be doing this on a whim. They'd saved up for that last visit they made; how on earth will they pay for this? Or get down here so quickly, if you only asked them yesterday?"

"Oh, that's no concern," Karen replied, waving off his inquiry. "I had them brought down and they're staying in a hotel on my dime, since I am the one that invited them."

Mike stared down at her silently until Karen shifted around uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze and frowned. "What?"

"Your family is the kind of rich that warps minds, isn't it?" he stated, still staring at her. "You're like a monocle and a Persian cat away from becoming a Bond villain."

Karen scowled but looked at the floor, unwilling to admit that she, in fact, owned a Persian cat.

"Okay, let's try a simple question, where the ethics are not so complicated," Mike sighed, still blocking her egress. "When did you plan on telling me that you'd brainwashed my family into this little scheme of yours and then kidnapped them to a world they know nothing about?"

"They're not as bad as all that," she insisted. "They're not total rubes who would get lost if they stepped out the door."

"Yes, they are," Mike pointed out. "They got lost on the campus the last time they were here. And as far as that goes, may I point out that you have lived in Toronto most of your life and you don't know your way around on the transit system. You get lost the moment you're off campus."

"That is not true," she said haughtily, lifting her chin. "I know the subway system wholly and completely."

"Since when?"

"Yesterday afternoon," Karen stated. "I memorized it, and all the bus and streetcar routes I am likely to need while attending this institution."

"Back to my question," Mike said dryly, not letting her pass until he had answers. "When did you mean to tell me?"

Karen paused and didn't look up at him, but cast her gaze to the wall. "I ... might have not considered that little detail. I forgot, okay?"

She then scowled at him and swatted his forearm with the back of her hand. "And apologize for calling me a ding-dong, now! I am not a ding-dong, and you were being rude!"

Mike raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her. She stared back up at him, but he could almost sense her trembling. Fear? Was she genuinely upset by the name? Anger?

This was a contest of wills that she could not afford to lose, and one he had no business trying to win. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Sorry, Gordon," he said finally, giving her a wry smile. "I shouldn't have called you a ding-dong. You may be a lunatic --"

"Better," Karen sniffed.

" -- but I had no business demeaning you. This whole situation is just exceedingly strange, you have to admit. No one else would ever think of something this outlandish."

"I see no point in being conventional and thinking like everyone else," she said airily. "You, of all people, should understand that, DeBourne."

"I freely admit, I'm used to improvising, Gordon. Necessity is the mother of invention, after all," Mike pointed out. "Did you really think of my family before you thought of the endless students on campus?"

She looked up at him now, and her eyes were shining with honesty. "They were happy I thought of them, Michael. They ... appreciated that I think so much of them that I'd let them help me do this thing. I know it seems insane, but genuinely nice people should be afforded every opportunity to help others as they can be presented with. There is no one I would rather have asked."

Mike stared down at her for some seconds before bursting out laughing. "You almost had me there, Gordon. You are so very full of shit!"

Karen sniffed again and looked up somewhere on the wall, wearing an annoyed expression, the folders clutched to her chest.

"You are the most dangerous person on this planet, no question in my mind," Mike added. "Your gift for subverting others is beyond belief!"

"Fine, Brainiac, just don't let it get out, hm?" she replied testily. "With you around, what else have I got going for me?"

"Oh, I am not your match, at least not without a sword in my hand," Mike chuckled. "You are so dangerous, Gordon."

"Well, this dangerous woman is asking you to put on an apron and come help with the lunch rush," she replied. "Besides, I'm sure your family would love to see you."

"Not in preference to seeing you, their new favourite child ..." Mike laughed again, gesturing grandly and allowing her to pass, and then following her back to the dining hall.

***

Tuesday morning found Alex, Freja and Jeanie sitting around at a cafeteria table, laughing with some other students. Since all three were in different studies, they had different people sitting with them, talking about a wide variety of subjects. Freja, as a foreigner, was something of a minor celebrity, and everyone wanted to hear about her life in Denmark. They were fascinated to hear about how her best friend (and everyone's favourite erotic fantasy) Alexa had lived there with her. Alex only had to insist that a few young men not make candid remarks about his aunt, at least while he was there.

Jeanie, meanwhile, was chatting gaily with some other students from Health Studies, even while sitting next to her wife and holding her hand. Everyone knew they were married, and nobody cared or minded. None of Alex's Linguistics cohorts were to be seen, so he was engaging the other students, asking questions about engineering and macro-nutrition.

Students being students, however, and since any conversation involving Jeanie rarely went without references to her vagina, the subject matter eventually turned to sex. Freja and Jeanie were rather well-known to be libertines, but someone finally asked the question.

"Okay, so it's one thing to say you're up for anything," reasoned a young woman sitting across from Freja. "But there's gotta be a hard limit, y'know? The thing that turns you off and makes you say no. What is it for you?"

Freja considered, looking at the table, and people around her seemed somewhat bewildered by the amount of time she was taking. Finally, she looked up and answered. "The necrophilia?"

The girl's eyes widened. "That's it?! That's the line? Not amputee midget rape-play, not pterodactyl furry porn, it's dead bodies? Who are you?"

The Danish girl looked side to side and then shrugged. "Freja Kjaer?"

"And I love you for it," Jeanie cooed, leaning in and kissing her cheek. "Yeah, when we hear other people talk about how racy they are, Fre and I gotta resist the urge to smile, pat them on the head and say 'That's cute,' y'know?"

"No shit ..." the girl muttered, shaking her head and scowling at the table. Her anal date with her boyfriend the night before seemed really tame all of a sudden.

"How about you, blondie?" asked another girl from across the table, looking at Alex. "What breaks out your safety word?"

Alex shrugged: "I dunno, I'm terminally white and hetero, so my proclivities are pretty vanilla. Don't try to use my butt for anything and keep your dick out of my face, I guess."

"Oh, c'mon, DeBourne, there's gotta be something," Jeanie said, smiling at Alex wickedly. "You expect us to believe you don't have a secret kink?"

Alex gave her a deadpan stare.

"Yeah, nothing even a little kinky?" asked the girl who made the mistake of interrogating Freja moments before. "I mean, no one'd blame you if you had the hots for your aunt, right? She's fine, and I'm not even bi."

"You people are all pervs," Alex sighed, putting his face in his hands. "She's my aunt; do none of you see the squick factor here?"

"I'm just sayin'," the girl added, shrugging. "She's the hottest girl on campus, and she lives with you. That's gotta fuel some masturbation fantasies."

"And I have been her lover, in times past," Freja now added, looking at Alex and smirking, her chin resting on her hand. "Even as recently as earlier this year, when I first arrived."

"Me too," Jeanie said, putting up her hand. "I've done it with her. Fre and I have done it together with her."

"So if you are thinking of her in these ways, then it is almost as if we have had sex too, you and I, ja?" Freja teased, reaching over and pinching Alex's cheek while he rolled his eyes and everyone else laughed.

"Yep, y'got me there," he said sarcastically. "Incest is my kink, for sure. I totally wanna do my aunt, and my mom, too."

"Well, Lady Prof is insanely hot," Jeanie pointed out. "Those Gordon-Blackwell sisters are gifts from Heaven. And don't get me going on your dad."

"Ohhh, mercy!" said another girl, fanning herself for effect. "That man can pee in my butt any day, any time he likes."

"You're all insane ..." Alex grumbled while everyone laughed and discussed the merits of sex with his parents.

***

1986 ...

They were sitting around a large table at a pub not far from the campus, laughing, eating and enjoying themselves. Karen sat between Lisa and Mona, who was next to Janet. Beside Janet sat Mike, and most of the rest of the table was taken up by his family. His father and mother sat at the head of the table, near to Karen, who was more or less hostess for the evening.

"How is your work with the SuperDarn going, Mister DeBourne?" Karen asked, taking a sip of her wine.

The older man grinned: "I'm not working with the radars, my dear, I'm just one of the workers providing steel and iron for the stations. And please, call me Ry."

"I can do that," she said pleasantly. "You said you're an iron and steel worker, so you must be helping fabricate the molds and shapes, yes?"

"As long as you don't think I have anything to do with its actual operation," Orion said cheerfully. "No, I'm just a labourer, getting it ready for when it begins operations, whenever that is."

"Do I want to know why you know about what my dad is doing a thousand kilometers away?" Mike asked, looking at Karen.

She shrugged: "He said something about it the last time your family visited, and it stuck with me, because those coherent scatter radar systems will be used to monitor E region ionosphere irregularities, potentially telling us a lot about global convection."

"Ooh, big words," Connor said, looking at his older brother. "She uses big words as well as you do, bro."

"Thank you, Connor, that's quite the compliment," Karen remarked, slicing into her cordon bleu.

"What was that thing you were blathering at me about, son?" Ry asked, looking at his eldest. "About why they settled on our town for this?"

"If you're referring to the complications brought on by the Appleton-Hartree Equation, I imagine they settled on that location due to the fact that it's far north in the Shield," Mike replied.

"Yes, that's the one," his father agreed, nodding. "Never knew anyone with quite your gift for bafflegab and technobabble."

"Boy, are you in for a treat," Mike said under his breath, causing Karen to shoot him a look.

"Well, I do appreciate you coming down on such short notice," she remarked, holding up her wine glass as a personal toast to them all. "It was very kind; I knew I was right to ask you."

"It's a pity we'll have to go back home tomorrow, because Ry does have to get back to work, and the kids can't really miss much school," Annette said, smiling at their hostess. "Maybe during a break, you can come and visit us, dear."

Mike almost choked on his beer, but no one seemed to notice, except possibly Karen. She smiled charmingly. "I'm delighted by the prospect, Anne. While I can make no immediate promises, I'll absolutely put it on my to-do list."

"You could come camping with us!" Ronnie said excitedly. "We do it all the time, the Cree let us camp on their lands because they like us!"

"It's hard to imagine anyone not liking you," Karen quipped, smiling at Connor and Veronica. "And yes, it is a pity you cannot stay longer, I've quite enjoyed out time together."

"Your parents must be lovely people, to have raised such a polite and friendly girl," Anne remarked, smiling at Karen. "Your whole family must be lovely."

"Well, your son has only punched one of them, so they can't be all bad," Karen quipped, smirking at Mike.

Anne's head swivelled to stare stonily at Mike. "Michael! What have I told you about punching people?! You'll never make friends that way!"