:)---Meet the Family by nghtcrwlr
[This is a rendition of a visit to my home. To all of you, my friends, I treat you with the best salutations and wish you the best for these holidays and the new year. Cheers!]
“Come on in, there’s nothing to be worried about.” The round, hazel eyes looked up and a reassuring smile widened in a futile attempt to ease the nerves of the tall young man standing next to her at the front door. The tall young man, that is, covered in blue fur and a tail that kept swaying impatiently from side to side with nothing to do and nowhere to go.
“Look, I know this really isn’t your world and you really can’t wait for the portal to open up again and take you home, were it will up to you to beat the livin’ daylights out of whoever decided to tinker with whatever toys it is you have back home … but… face it, for now you are stuck in my world. Given that there aren’t any, uhm, homo superiors here, you’ve got to go somewhere safe to spend your time. My family is really friendly…really…and we love guests over for the holidays. So just relax and let me do the talking, ok?” The girl was being helpful, extremely so it almost seemed, and how this plan was going to work out was actually beyond him, but not knowing what else to do, and considering he had spent the entire day trying to escape being embraced and torn from group after group of overexcited frauleins, the thought of a few moments of peace was comforting given this one girl hadn’t attempted to tear his shirt or anything.
“Alright, I trust you liebchen. You seem safe.”
“Yeah, I am … for the moment,” and before he could react, she rang the doorbell and instantly the door opened, to reveal a small boy of about 9 staring up at him.
“Wow! Nightcrawler!!!!”
“Hey! How’d you get to the door so fast?!”
“I heard voices and knew it was you”
“You were eavesdropping, you little twerp!”
“No I wasn’t! … H-hhhhhi!”
“Were too!”
“Were not! … Are you really Nightcrawler?”
“Ja, that is mein name. How did – how did you know?”
“Oh, never mind that. It’s a long story, I’ll explain later. Let us in, shorty.”
“Who are you calling shorty?!”
“Me, your OLDER sister, who is TALLER than you.”
“Ha! Say that to HIM!” and with that the boy stepped aside. Nightcrawler, or rather Kurt Wagner, instinctively stepped back to let the girl in, but instead found himself being shoved in first through the door, surprised at the eagerness and sudden strength in the girl.
No sooner were they in, that quick short heels were heard and swiftly a petite woman around her forties, dressed in a short black dress and with short dark hair appeared in the hall, gracefully yet loudly clattering her way up to them.
“Uat’s go-ing on, Bichu? … Oh!! …H-hi! What … Hou arr ju?”
“Mom, this is my friend, Kurt. I invited him over for dinner tonight. He works at a Party company and he hasn’t been able to remove his costume in time… he has to let some of the glue wear off. But I told him to come anyways. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, it was really short notice.”
“Oh, that’s ok, Bichu. Nice to miit ju Kurt.”
“Nice to meet you too, Frau Vega.”
“Ah, German? A pleasure to meet you! My sister’s husband’s family is German. Please, come on in. I uill go tell the rest of the family in the livin ruum. Please, give yur coat to Mari and make yur self at home.”
The woman quickly turned and sped over to the living room, where other voices had muffled, and the boy started following her, but quickly back and with a playfully naughty look:
“I know you’re lying!” and he sped off to catch up to his mother.
Kurt nervously looked at his host, and she returned a full-fledged, tooth-filled grin, as she hid behind her back her trembling fingers. Kurt took off his coat and gave it to the girl and as they started to make their way down the hall, another boy who seemed to be 13 appeared, coming from the living room. He was wearing a Fubu shirt and silky basketball shorts, with the rim of his underwear showing. He stopped short, however, and his mouth fell open as he saw the blue mutant.
“Oh, God, you didn’t…No way”
“Do you mind, Pico? Para’ de mirarlo ya! Queres dejarnos pasar?” [stop staring at him already! You want to let us pass?]
The boy recovered, raised his chin at his older sister, and defiantly passed between them.
“No. … And you should’ve brought Batman instead…”
“What?! … Traitor!”
“Whatever” and the boy walked out the door.
“Batman?” Kurt was confused.
“Never mind my brother, he’s a teenager.” And with that, she took his arm and led him into the living room.
Seated in the sofa was an elderly couple. The man was dressed in simple old khakis and a worn gray fleece sweater. The woman, on the other hand, had heavy round earrings and a long, elaborate beaded necklace. She had on a brightly colored silk shirt and white pants, and was the only one of the three ladies in the house that had much make up on…perhaps quite a bit at that. The French doors that led to the patio held back a black pooch, no taller than half-way up his knee if on all fours, which kept yelping in excitement as it jumped up and down like a spring in an endless, almost constant rhythm (you could very well rely on this dog to pace yourself while playing the piano or for counting the seconds it took for someone to finally break the silence). Thank goodness the mother had already explained the “costume” of their granddaughter’s friend, but they could not ever get used to the bizarre ways of youngster’s these days and had to take the time to examine the handsome young man. Perhaps he was with another one of those fashion groups, instead of a Party company, or perhaps he had just come from impersonating an elf to Santa Claus.
“Kurt, these are my grandparents. Abuelo, abuela, este es mi amigo, Kurt.”
“Mucho gusto” the grandpa blurted, as he leaned to shake Kurt’s hand, trying hard to raise himself to his feet, but ending up only half-way up as Kurt quickly stepped closer to prevent having him stand.
“Mucho gusto, como esta?” Peeped the granny, standing up and extending her hand.
“A pleasure to meet you,” Kurt elegantly kissed her manicured fingers, and as a consequence earned himself constant adoration from her for the rest of the evening.
Soon, at the table, the grandfather gave him a whole spiel on the history of the family, leading the boys constantly trying to either leave the table or entertain themselves by provoking each other with their feet without their mother noticing. Kurt tried to keep up with the names and history: the grandfather’s parents had left Spain as their marriage was not approved of and how the sister of the his mother had remained instead in Cuba and later gone to the US, how the grandmother’s mother had married 3 or 4 times, had been separated from her own mother from Brazil when just a child, and raised a pack of children on her own, and how the grandmother’s father had come from Italy during hard times with nothing on his pockets and in a few months paid the debt of his voyage, sent back his mother and sister money to come, and set up his own flower company. He heard of the duck his host’s mother used to have, which greeted her every evening when she arrived from the 2 hour long trip from the university, or how as a child, the grandfather had tormented the neighborhood cats and buried in a field, point up, all the nails from the toolboxes of some construction workers while they were on a lunch break.
At the same time, the grandmother in turn terrorized Kurt with a thousand questions which Kurt barely dodged as he tried to avoid revealing too much, or overwhelming his hostess, as the poor girl was loosing her voice trying to translate for both grandparents, who were talking at the same time. Dodging questions wasn’t all too hard however, when the meal was served, as the mother filled the table with plates full of oven roasted chicken and cuts of asado (barbequed steak cuts), warm mashed potatoes, pasta, homemade sauces and gravies for all of those, salad, Argentinean empanadas (think of homemade hotpockets filled with meat, olives, egg, cheese, etc.), wine and juice, and coffee with apple pie and ice cream with fruit for dessert. What was hard was trying to avoid a second serving, especially as the mother and grandmother constantly insisted if the guest would like some more and the younger of the boys was all too willing to speak with the guest and advise him on what sauce was best for what plate. It was dark outside, his hostess had put some soft holiday music and the lights of the tree had been lit, despite Pico’s upsetting when he was given duties as official family electrician.
The phone began ringing, and the mother began calling from the kitchen for the boys to come salute the relatives, the grandmother all throughout the night “give tips” on the preparation and serving of the meal and spoiled Kurt with bigger servings, charmed as she was. The mother eventually gave in too, as the young man seemed to have quite kind eyes (though strange lenses) and was very well-mannered. And the grandpa proved an avid linguist, as though he was of age and could not learn a new language, he had managed to memorize some words in English and German (thanks to his son-in-law) and after his history learned a few more in exchange for teaching Kurt a few words in Spanish and Italian.
At around 11:30pm, Kurt sat up at the chimes. It was time for him to go. The grandmother and mother were saddened and gave him some homemade sweets to take with him as a gift, the grandfather shook Kurt’s hand … and shook and shook and shook … in great respect and gratitude, proudly saying “Auf Wiedersehen!” to show off his new knowledge. Pico extended his hand too, with airs of being a refined adult, despite his brave falling shorts, which clung ever so enthusiastically to him. And Fede, youngest of the boys, in his tie and khakis, which he had insisted was the proper wear for such an occasion, just stared, eyes awonder, and took Kurt aside to whisper in secret to him to refer his buddy Logan or any of his friends to feel free to come by any time. With great pains, his hostess dragged Kurt outside into the solitary street, as Kurt was lazy with all the food and wine, and her family just never seemed to finish with their goodbyes…grandma still would not let go of him!
Once alone outside, a gap of light tore in the air in the middle of the street, and voices were heard from the other side.
“Hey, elf! Ya there, bub?!”
“Yeah! C’mon, jump in before this thing closes up again!!” Bobby’s head popped through the gap, curiously looking for any sign of Kurt, only to have a hand grab him by the head and pull him back in.
“Get outta there, popsicle!! I’ll go get the elf!”
“Oh, no! Logan!” cried Ororo.
Logan’s head peered out, and saw Kurt standing right in front of him.
“Well, what are ya waiting for elf? Ya want us to come and carry you back?” And noticing the lipstick smooches, “And what the hell happened to you?”
“Don’t worry, he has just been tortured all day, that’s all. Here you go, a fully spoiled, stuffed and drunk elf with sore ears. It’s been nice to meet you, and by the way Kurt…”
“Ja?”
“We knew your names ‘cause in this world, you are a comic book hero.”
“A what?!”
And with that, the girl, with a quick kiss on the cheek and a wish for happy holidays, shoved him into the gap, back home.
:
: Besides, I'm not very good 
: and this was just a second attempt. I'm glad you two liked it though. I just wanted to do something for everyone. 
:
:P
and i perfectly understand you.