Spandex is Never Fun

A.N:  I’d like to thank those who reviewed.  Thanks guys, for your input!  Also, did I put this in the right genre?  It doesn’t seem to fit in any other category...bah.  On with the story!!

BTW, Silver on the Tree:  ‘causing many a peer to peer’....first peer is classmate;  second peer is stare.  :D 

Chapter Two:  The Requisite Extrapolation

To all those that knew her, Alex Ibarra was an odd girl. 

In her opinion she didn’t quite fit, in the hierarchy of the ambiguously-named Filipino-Catholic Private School for Girls.  The thespians wouldn’t accept her because, frankly, she was a lousy actor and an even worse singer (Though the former was debatable.  One could say that she was playing the role of a person who couldn’t play any role).  The fashion echelon refused to admit anyone who couldn’t distinguish between a cashmere and cotton (Actually, she could, her mother being a fashionista herself, but that Alex kept to herself, as well as the Mango shirts she routinely wore.  Thank God for her uniforms.), and the die-hard rockers would never forgive her for humming broadway tunes (and the thespians, once again, were equally intolerant of the infrequent rock-chant).  She was an average fencer, a horrible musician, and while not a first-class nerd, certainly known for waving her arm up in the air eagerly (Ah, but the fools didn’t realize that this was merely a technique to avoid the harder questions in the last quarter).  As for the assorted science-fiction, fantasy, and anime- loving people...well, they creeped her out.  They were far too much like her; in other words, in their own little worlds.

            Of course, the above paragraph was irrelevant to the matter at hand.  Simply put, Alex was an odd girl.

            So when she arrived at the destination—a nondescript, seemingly empty parking lot—she didn’t immediately resort to hysterics or whip out her cell phone to dial the prescribed emergency number.

            “That’s it?” she asked.  “You go through the trouble of acting all cryptic, and all you bring me to is a parking lot?  Where are the woods?  The laughing ladies of the fairy court?  Where’s the freaky spaceship?” 

            The more logical, somewhat ignored at this point in time part of her brain argued that she should ease up.  Parking lots seemed easier to escape from than other realms far from her civilization, comparatively.  And it probably wasn’t wise to provoke the guy, when she was practically alone and defenseless.

            Now she felt like giving in to hysterics.  But since that was a Classic Heroine Reaction, she refused to succumb.

            She supposed the brash act was also a Classic Heroine Reaction, albeit vastly preferable.  However, in most tales those who did take up the brash act were often rather if not stupid very, very impulsive...Damn.  She hoped she wasn’t the former.

            “Young lady? Young Lady, are you all right?”  Oh, of course, the old man was there.  She pushed away the irrational part of her mind for awhile, and resolved to act like a Classic Heroine.

            “I don’t seem to be hurt,” Alex said, only half-answering the question before asking one herself. “Why am I here?”

            “You saw the spheres.  For that reason, you are now one of us, one of the few chosen to guard the world from beasts that come from other dimensions—”

            Alex was mildly disappointed, as she listened to the Dear Old Man talk on about saving the world.  While a mini version of Alex was, inside her head, jumping up and down and screaming in sheer delight, the writer in her was dismayed to learn of so clichéd a plot.  Still another voice insisted in her that this was a trick, a trap, and went on raving about the heresies of demon kind.  Poor Alex now found her selves being embroiled in a debate.

            “Excuse me?  Young lady?” the dear old man was starting to sound a little irritated, now.  Firmly, she yelled at all the other Alex selves to shut up.  They complied.  She gave an apologetic smile to the old man.

            “I’m sorry.  It’s a bit hard to take in,” she said.  That was the understatement of the year.  Of course it was bloody hard to take in!  First, the denial—how was she to know that this wasn’t some sick new reality show where they watch your expressions of excitement and then say ‘Boo! You’ve just been Busted!’?  Or, from a more religious point of view, how could she tell whether or not that this wasn’t the work of the devil?

            Damn.  Now her head hurt.  It was a pity that the characters in stories didn’t suffer from the same ponderings.  On the other hand, it wouldn’t have been much of a story, with a terribly exhausting neurotic schizo like her as the protagonist.

            What an irony.

            Just then, good manners that her mother had half-ingrained into her noggin kicked it.  “I’m sorry, I forgot to mention...my name is Alexis Ibarra,” she said contritely, dropping a curtsey—it would have been harder to manage this if she were to be wearing her daily jeans.   

“If I may ask—what is your name, sir?”

            The old man smiled.  “I must apologize as well,” he returned her curtsey with a bow, “and I am Takayama Mori.”

            Okay, she felt better now.  This guy was no potential rapist. She doubted those serial killers dressed up in costumes for the sake of their victims...right?  Then she chastised herself for her nastily vivid imagination.

            “So, let me get this straight,” she said, putting on her Classic Heroine Sass Type back on, “There’s a group of people who guard this earth from other dimensions?  And I happen to be one of them?  What does seeing the spheres indicate?” Hah.  She used the word ‘indicate’.  It was the little things that made Alex happy.

            “The spheres are the life forces, if you will, of the beasts that we capture or have to kill.  We send them to their respective planes, where those who own the beasts deal with them. I knew you were one of us when I saw you recognized the spheres, and yet—” he hesitated.

            “What?”

            “It is highly—unusual—for a female to be called,” he said finally, “and normally the males that do hold the ability display it in the first calling.  I can only think of a few instances when women were chosen to protect this word...” and he trailed off, lost in thought.  Alex didn’t mind; she did the same thing awhile ago.

            “What do you mean by ability?” she asked.  If this was a hidden-camera trick, it was fairly elaborate.  She might as well use the information in one of her many unfinished story worlds.

            “There is something that is gifted in the guardians that enables them to perform what others might see as magic,” Takayama-san replied.  “This power is wielded through our minds, and like our minds, are inherently unique.”

            “Oh,” she said, brightening.  “Kind of like David Goodman’s Mind Sorcery, huh?”  She named the not-so-popular fantasy novelist, of whom she was rather fanatic about.

            The elderly gentleman gave her another searching look.  “As a matter of fact, yes, that’s exactly what it is.”  A pregnant—she giggled mentally at the term, silly little muffin—pause.  “Mr. Goodman was a former guardian.”

            Blink.  “No way!” she yelped, and then struggled to control herself from jumping up and down rapidly like those mini-skirted idiots of anime.  No sense ridiculing them if she was going to behave like one herself.  “Truly?” she inquired in a calmer voice.

            “Indeed.  As was I, until I reached a certain age.”  And then he studied her again.  “You are given a chance to accept everything I’ve said, and take up this duty.  If you do, much will be asked of you, and at first seem too difficult a task to do.  Yet the rewards would be great.”  There was a slight twinkle in his eye, and Alex wondered if he knew just what exactly those rewards would be.

            He probably did.  He seemed like the enigmatic-wizard type. 

            “However,” he continued, “if you decide not to, you can go back to your ordinary life with your memory erased.  There is nothing cowardly about this decision.”

            Something shifted in him, and a new urgency colored his eyes.  It would have alarmed the girl, had she not been staring at her feet.

            “But you must decide now.”

            The silence seemed to stretch out before them.  Alex knew that this choice she must make now will drastically alter her lifestyle.  Pain was inevitable; she wasn’t what you could call athletic, and skirmishes from dangerous dimensional beasties would produce more than just cuts.  Not only would she have to contend with an increased juggling act in her life, but with mental battles just as well.  There was a big chance that she would be driven insane...

            The theme song of Jeopardy ringing in her head didn’t help matters either.

            “I do not mean to rush you,” said Takayama-san, “but are you done thinking?”  She looked at him, and noted how tense his body was.  He seemed to be listening for something.  And then, she heard it; a dull roar in the far-off distance, gradually nearing.

            “A beast comes.” 

            She reached deep inside her, and found that she made her decision.

            “All right.  I’m in,” Alex said.  The old man relaxed, slightly.  “But there better not be spandex,” she added.

            “Excuse me?” he was startled.

            “Yeah,” she nodded sagely.  “Spandex is never fun.”