2010-04-09: Calling Ma Baker



Date: April 9, 2010


In the aftermath of horror, Micah mothers a woman who really needs one.

"Calling Ma Baker"

Central Park

Micah should be tucked away in the apartment he resides (it's not really his though), safely reading, rebelling, or playing Robot Unicorn, but then when has Micah done what he's supposed to? He hasn't exactly been obedient the last couple of years. Yet he's out and about on a small walk, stretching his legs and trying to clear his head. It's been a crazy few days, particularly regarding the rebellion. He's feeling a little off these days, but he still believes in what they're doing — in what they're trying to do.

It's midday just around noon as he reaches Central Park. It's not a terribly unusual time of day for a kid to not be in school — assuming he goes to school somewhere around here, and the park is a little crowded anyways. He walks through the park, studying the people and keeping his eyes open for any unusual activity.

And then something or rather someone comes into view. Under a tree. Passed out. Glancing around, the young hero ponders whether any of the adults around will help the poor person. Seeing that no one is stopping to check it out, he marches up to the figure under the tree.

The figure is that of one Cody F. S. Baker, dressed in a pair of cargo pants, her combat boots, and and white long sleeved t-shirt. She seems to be sleeping(?) under the tree. In her left hand is a paper bag, the shape of the item within is square, telltale but the way her hand is wrapped around it.

When the teen's shadow crosses the sunlight shining down on her face, she scowls and then slowly opens her eyes. "G-go 'way.." she hiccups, even from where he's standing the liquor smell is fairly predominant. "I hhhate… shtupid'country… fuggit…"

The figure would be shocking if Micah had led an even more sheltered childhood, but then his mom was a stripper. Seeing someone intoxicated isn't that big a shock in comparison to knowing your own mother took off her clothes for money. This isn't to say that it's an image Micah is okay with, it's just not as shocking as it could be. "Cody," he says softly as he sits next to her. "It's Micah… do you recognize me?" he tilts his head in concern as he gets closer and tries to pry the bottle from her hand. "What happened to you?" is his quiet question. He may be only fourteen, but he understands that most adults don't drink themselves into this kind of stupor on a regular basis.

"She's pertectin'em.." Cody slurs, her head bobs slightly as she tries to lift it to look over at him. Her head isn't being very cooperative at the moment, lolling from side to side. She tries to focus on the boy but is distracted as he tries to steal her bottle away from her. No, bad Micah, this is Cody's Southern Comfort. Boy is she in need of comfort. "They 'ad me.. They 'ad Mark… We's chained teh chairs, fer weeks.. No sleep 'less they let us."

Micah's eyebrows furrow. "Cody, it's worth it. You're doing your best and while I might not agree with everything — " he tilts his head at her thoughtfully. "When were you chained to chairs?" he reaches for the bottle again, "You don't want to drink anymore. You shouldn't… we have things we need to do… who else is gonna save the world?"

The bottle is given over, not willingly because she's trying to take one last gulp of the amber liquid before it's finally pulled away, but her strength has left her. "World.. doesn' want pertectin'… Em'ly.. She jus' wanstuh work for 'em.. doesn' care.. Who cares.." Cody mutters quietly, her lips curling in distaste at even mentioning the name of the woman. She smiles a little bit and then lets off a sardonic chuckle as a memory flashes through her mind. "Mark.. 'e's a hhhero. Doesn' do it for hisself. Does it fer other people. Y'know wha'? Mark's my hero…"

"Oooookay," Micah is still moderately unsure, but there are some things he can't disagree with that she's said. "The world doesn't want a hero because if they knew what was going on — if they knew what we do and how we're protecting them, they would live in constant fear." He's convinced on this point. "And I care. And deep down you care. We want to save the world — why? So families can stay together. So kids can be raised by their own parents instead of strangers, and so at the end of the day we can look ourselves in the mirror and know that we've done everything we can for a world that will never remember us when we're gone." He blinks quietly. "And this isn't for yourself. This is for everyone around you. Every child. Every baby. Every American. Heck, every citizen of the WORLD. Cody, you're doing this for them…" His eyebrows furrow again. "And we do it for hope. Hope that tomorrow will be better, that we'll live in a world where people like us can live in peace, and that there's something greater than us…"

"Y'know.. Molly n' Mattie, they're good kids. Parkman's go'good kids." Cody says this with conviction, if not a little drunkenly. She likely won't admit to having that little revelation when she sobers up, but right now, she means it. "They need Janice 'n Matt. Need a good fam'ly." A good nuclear family, the kind that Cody didn't have.

"Three weeks." Cody says suddenly, "Three weeks they 'ad us chained up…" Then she begins rambling in a foreign language, something Arabic sounding. She closes her eyes and tilts her face up to the sun, letting out a long sigh. Still, she's rambling in that strange tongue. It becomes obvious that she's telling the teen a story, with how animated her voice is, it's certainly a compelling tale.

Molly. That name makes Micah's heart skip a beat. He should tell Molly that he's leaving. Maybe. "Molly is… Molly is beautiful," he manages. It's the first time he's said it aloud to anyone — himself included. His cheeks flush a pale pink as he shakes his head. "She deserves a family. Everything about her is goodness and light and perfection. Her heart, her soul… it's… it's amazing. She deserves the best of everything. Always." His cheeks flush even more before he shakes his head. He's confessing his crush to a drunken woman.

Who chained you?" he can't understand what she's saying, but he can tell it's a very involved story. "Cody, you're one of the good guys… I'm, I'm sorry for what I said earlier. The other day. I know you're doing your best — "

"Y'know the terr'rists Em'ly's workin' for? They got Mark n' me… long time ago. We goddem though.. kapow.. Kaboom!" Cody's story descends into a series of explosion sounds. Then she pauses for a moment and looks up at him. "Y'like Molly, huh? S'good… Yer a good kid. Bet yer mom n' dad'd be real proud. Y'don' need teh be doin' this, y'know.. Jus'… Jus' do wha' yeh do. People like me.. we'll do the dirty work. 'Kay?" Then she stops and stares at him, her expression quite solemn and serious.

"I — I'm following this through to the end. I started the rebellion to rescue people who were caught and to keep people free. Now — " Micah glances at the horizon. "This is what it means to be a hero. I'm trying hard to do what I can. I have to. We all have to." Resolve is written on his face. "And you are a hero, I'm just a kid." He shakes his head as he smirks just a little. "Just remember why you're doing what you can. I do it so kids like me don't lose their parents." He swallows as his eyebrows furrow. "And you're doing it because you remember what this country was. Because you know that no one should be forced to lie as someone else's play thing, let alone their weapon… remember that."

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