I'm a Spoiled Brat

29^th  June 2010

I had treated my parents like dirt over the days leading up to the suit being taken by Dereck. Dad had retreated to his bunker under the house and our communication had reduced to grunts. I don’t think he liked it and I found it hard to stay angry with them. Why give me something only to have them take it away so soon. Mum must have felt the tension too as all of the girly chat had gone from our conversation. She helped me dress each day, but every question she asked was met with a grunt from me.

My suit had hung on its hook since Dad did the magic tricks with it. Mum tried to cajole me into it saying that any muscle stimulation was better than none. On the week end Dereck Strange collected the suit. I was surprised that they let me keep the belt and boots, but Dad had let him think they were only accessories and played no part in making the suit work. He took the original remote control too.

Over the next two weeks I researched and read everything I could find about my condition. Everyone had promise, none had a fix-all and a fix-all was what my family needed now.

There were a few things I had to learn about the suit before I was ready to venture into public. For example, the initial charge lasted only two hours, less if I used the invisibility function. I could control the power in my muscles by twisting the thumb wheel on the remote. Dad said he was working on something more elaborate, but needed Mum to plot my neurological traces to make sure things didn’t go haywire. Now I’m not the science geek they had hoped for, but I’m not completely clueless either. I love some of the geeky stuff almost as much as Aunt Chloe loves fashion and now that I can walk I want to get a little closer to my inner geek too.

A month had passed when Dad knocked at more door. He wanted to make a couple of adjustments to the suit. I was at my desk in the middle of a maths assignment when he asked me to turn around. I rolled the chair around so I could see him. My suit hung on its hook behind the door. He had the controller in his hand.

‘Watch this.’ He said.

‘Dad, I’ve got an assignment due, What?’

‘This.’ He clicked a new switch on the remote and the dress changed shape. Now I had a little black evening dress. Another click and it changed into a pants suit, anther click and school uniform. ‘Neat, eh?’

‘A school dress? Why that?’

‘Help you to go unnoticed, I don’t know? This material of fabric has so many properties the combinations are endless. I had to go through your grandmother’s sewing patterns to get about a thousand variations.’

‘Grandma’s patterns, You didn’t ask Aunt Chloe?’

‘No, why would I. I found the box in the garage, besides fashion comes and goes.’

‘Only a man could say that.’

‘Anyway, I scanned your body when you were sleeping and fed those dimensions into the algorithm. You’ll never have to shop again.’ He looked so smug I wanted hit him.

‘You scanned me?’

‘Yeah, It’s okay, I have all your dimensions now and I’ve computed your expected growth and made allowances.’ His grinning told me he didn’t get it and the hole he dug just got deeper.

‘Whatever.’ I said and turned back to the assignment.

As he left the room, I caught a glimpse of him reflected in my computer screen. He looked crushed, but he’d made me mad as only a dad can do.

I was still fuming when Mum came into my room just before eleven. Thanks to their invention my muscles were regenerating and a few personal tasks I could manage now. She picked up a wrist band and ran her fingers around one of the jewels.

‘Know what I call this stuff?’ she said.

‘No.’ I had to stop myself snapping at her, she would always try to smooth any friction between Dad and me.

‘Unobtanium.’ She passed it to me. ‘There’s a completely original name with about seventy-five letters in it and four hundred pages of text describing it, but to me, its plain old unobtanium. These little black discs have taken him over ten years to develop. So top secret that outside the family only Mr Strange has seen them.’ Mum wriggled further onto the bed. ‘Aunt Cloe’s not just a fashionista either. She works with Dereck.’

‘Not her boyfriend?’

‘Don’t think so?’

‘So why was he here?’

‘He’s military, wanted to verify if the suit worked. The government provided the finance the medical research budget wouldn’t.’

‘Why?’ I thought I knew the answer and wondered if Mum thought it too.

‘That’s why Dad wanted you to see what it could do.’ She rubbed the back of my hand. ‘You feel cold.’

‘Why did Dad show me that stuff?’

‘So you can hide.’

‘Hide, why?’

‘Dereck says some of your father’s work has been leaked. Not these little glass baubles, but the suit itself. It will take time to replicate but if our enemies get their hands on it, our country loses its advantage.’

‘Am I safe?’

‘Yes as long as we give the suit to Dereck next weekend.’

‘Mum…?’

‘For the best love?’

‘Well why all the stuff the old patterns and how the dress could change shape?’

‘I think he wanted to show you how important the project was to him, that’s all.’

‘To him, what about me?’ I was crying now and didn’t know how to feel. ‘He said he scanned me.’

‘Inappropriate, but necessary, I was here.’

‘Oh, I don’t believe you two.’ I roll turned to the wall and cried. After a few minutes Mum got up and went to the door.

‘No more Millennium Woman.’ I whispered.

I heard Mum sniffle and a tissue pull from the box on the hall stand. Everyone in my family would have a rough time searching for sleep tonight.

And so it begins

6th June 2010 Peaches Pengilly Diary 

Today, and like the thirteen birthdays before it, we started with Mum helping me shower and dress. I slid into my chair and wheeled into the kitchen for breakfast. I felt a buzz in the room, Dad was positively beaming and after getting me ready, Mum must have found Superman’s phone box, because in minutes she had totally transformed. Gone were her tired eyes and straggly hair, she was now model material.

On the table were several packages, all girly, pastel paper and ribbons. Most birthdays were marked with a new wheelchair, a computer, or stuff to make my life easier, but today looked hopeful. I wondered why Dad slipped out for a haircut last night. Maybe we were going somewhere. His beard was stylish, all salt and pepper and no longer a bedraggled birds nest wrapped around his mouth. Gone was the ancient cardigan with leather elbow patches. Today Dad wore a new shirt and a sports jacket that matched his grey slacks.

Me, I have always looked crumpled and drab, invisible to the world and the people who inhabit it. I hoped against hope the packages held something to wear, something that didn’t say cripple.

Their card is always the same and why not, after all I am their own little Peaches.

Dad was first to open his present to me. I longed to pull on the lime green bow and rip that mauve tissue to bits. Damn, I miss that thrill. Hearing paper tear, feeling it give way. A feeling so delicious and on the long list of things that are lost to me now. Even the birthday cake has become a joke, because it is hard to purse my lips and blow, Dad has made me a little fan to do the job instead. I remember his first attempt damn near blew the icing off the cake. A candle fell and caused the streamers to catch fire. I just sat back and laughed at everyone trying to pat the flames out. With my condition, what could I do?

See what happens, the moment I start feeling low about the things I’m unable to do, something funny pops into my head, and I’m laughing again. It comes from Mum. She laughs a lot, but Dad is a bit slow to get her jokes. I just look away when she has to explain them to him. His though, are the worst Dad jokes ever, and I’ll find any excuse to leave the room when he starts.

However, I just couldn’t get my head around the number of parcels this year. Dad’s gift was action wear. Not the black form fitting stuff other girls like, this was like a royal blue body suit. Just what I wanted, not. How on Earth did they think I was going to get into that? I wondered about the fabric and the gold lines that highlighted the seams. I knew it wasn’t lycra yet the elasticity made it smooth and feel like silk. Inside, the fabric was covered with threads of gold as if woven by a spider. It would look better inside out.

Dad still beaming, opened his piece-de-résistance. A maroon headscarf with gold and black motifs. Mother Theresa in an out of control wheelchair was all I saw, but he was excited, so I went with it. A balaclava was sewn into the scarf and again, the gold spider had been there too.

Mum fidgeted, and made ooh-ah noises while Dad faffed. She could not help herself, she broke into the act, pushing a Dolce & Gabbana boot box in front of me. What was she thinking? Everyone knows she loves shoes, but for me, come on? All the girls I know from school, would love to spend their lives buying shoes, but I’m in a wheel chair. What need do I have for high fashion? Mum teased the lid off and gave a big, ‘ta-da…’ Knee high boots and the same colour as the scarf, not only were they boots, but they had heels, four inch heels. This had to be a dream. I tried to shift in my chair, but the pain in my shoulders let me know I was awake.

Mum turned the boots to face me. My classmates had a name for them, but I couldn’t tell her that. If I was normal bodied, I’d love them. Just to stand and look at them in a mirror would be great, but to walk again, I can only dream. A gold zipper ran from the instep to the top of the calf, and the spider had worked his magic on that lining too. She fished a belt from the same box. It was wide, like some kind of utility belt the police wear, and dotted with what looked like coin sized black opals in gold mounts. Light danced within the stones and the spider had been here too. Gold strands connected each disc, then gathered like rope along the edge of the belt.

My aunt, a woman who followed fashion shows across the globe, always found time to be home for my birthday and today had someone with her, Dereck Strange, a name that suited him. He sat and watched until she asked him to fetch her surprise. He returned, a box in one hand and something on a hanger in the other.

I thought she was about to change, when she said, ‘This is for you, Darling.’ and unzipped the bag.

It looked filmy, something flashy like a black cocktail dress, but it wasn’t and all I could think was, how would I work as a part-time waitress in a wheelchair?

‘More feminine than your dad’s effort at jumpsuit,’ Her accent had a Paris edge to it, ‘and it goes over.’ She said.

Had my family gone mad? All I needed now was wrist bands and I’d start to look something like Wonder Woman.

Mum grabbed the joystick of my chair and steered me toward my room. Aunt Chloe gathered everything up and giggled to mum about how wonderful I’d look. She caressed the boots, kangaroo hide, chosen because it’s light and supple.

Dad said to call him when I was dressed. Told them he had to charge something. He called it something that sounded like a flux capacitor, but that was out of the movie Back to the Future, how I wanted to be just like Marty McFly, the character played by Michael J Fox.

It took a while, but Mum and Aunt Chloe pushed, prodded and shaped me into the fancy dress get-up. To slide the boots on, Mum edged me onto a stool and Aunt Chloe held me. I wriggled forward, my mother and her sister held me. I felt the floor under my feet and tried to stand. The heels were wobbly, but God it felt good. I looked in the mirror, I had shape. I was never chunky, but the body suit made me more of a woman and I liked what I saw. The dress, the boots, the body suit and scarf were cheesy, but if I were going to a fancy dress party, I was ready. However, all this was before breakfast.

Mum called Dad. For a minute all he did was gawp and whistle at me. He clipped a pouch onto my utility belt, and he also held something that looked like a TV remote, with a thumb wheel. Aunt Chloe called and Derek brought the box from earlier.

He said, ‘A girl needs some bling on her birthday.’ and he plucked at the tissue like a harpist. More paper scattered house today, than every other birthday combined.

Had everyone gone mad? And I thought after seeing how our family carried on, Derek might do a runner. He passed something to Mum, elbow to wrist leather bands, now I’m thinking I’m Wonder Woman for sure. Same accents as the belt and the boots. Little black and gold discs, spider webs and gold rope.

‘They’ll help with your Popeye wrists.’ Dad said.

He took the remote and asked Derek to steady me. Mum had her video camera, I hate it when she records me at my most ridiculous. Aunt Chloe held me too. I didn’t understand what was happening. Dad turned the knob a click. A tingle pulsed within the suit. Every little spider web seemed to be waking muscles that hadn’t worked for years. The ache in my calves, a pain I had known since I was three, drained away. My shoulders no longer drooped and my lips felt fuller. I might have looked ridiculous, but I started to re-imagine who I am.

After feeling the muscles relax, I felt confident enough to try and stand alone. I sucked hard, lent forward and shuffled my feet. After a couple of minutes, Aunt Chloe and Derek let go, and unassisted I stood. I twisted to look over my shoulder, I smiled and winked at the girl in the mirror. Millennium Woman winked back.