The Toddler

The toddler let go of the stroller. His short legs, hampered by the thick diaper, carried him several steps from the reach of his mother. A mother with her head bowed over a phone. “Boy, you better get back here,” the mother growled. She moved her blood-shot eyes to look at the kid.

The toddler giggled. He let out a gurgle making several other passengers smile as he stumbled about. The train jostled, tossing the already unstable child towards the closed doors. The toddler’s feet danced several steps, keeping the tyke up right. The distracted mother kept her head and shoulders hunched over her phone. She didn’t flinch when her son lost his balance. Her fingers tapped on the phone when the child lunged for the doors.

Tiny fingers gripped the seal between the sliding doors. His small weight shifted with the rolling floor. The doors slammed open, taking the small body into the air.

Five adult passengers clambered for just a finger hold on the child. None made it.

The sixth arm wriggled through legs, the tangle of arms, and encircled the child’s torso. A swift tug and the toddler was back in the train.

All heads turned; following the arm back to the body it was attached. A tall woman blew out a breath and placed the toddler in front of his mother.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The mother dashed to her feet with a disgusted look on her face. “You’re a Meta-Human! Don’t you dare touch me!” With her phone put away, she looked at the crying child. The mother kept a distance from the child, while the child extended arms and tiny, grasping hands.

Several faces turned to look at a man wearing a dark suit with a gold MWG pin on his lapel. The man had a hand-sized detector out and scanned the area. When he put it away, he looked over his dark shades and cocked an eyebrow. “You know it’s against the law to display your abilities in public?”

“Except in self-defense or other dire situations.” The woman glanced at the toddler and his mother. “I think this counts.” A smile creased her face as she stepped towards the door.

A consenting murmur came from the surrounding people. Several backed away from the surrounding group.

“I’m that child’s mother and I wouldn’t have consented!” The mother leaned forward, but pointed a hand at the wailing child.

Heads turned to stare at the mother with wide eyes, and mouths open. Someone gasped.

The train pulled into the station and the intercom blared the garbled stop name.

“Call it in if you are so inclined.” The tall woman moved for the opened door, hitching her bag on her shoulder as she stepped on the busy platform.

“Don’t you walk away,” the mother stomped towards the leaving woman. The crying child grabbing at the legs of his mother.

The MWG member shook his head and walked away. “There is no accounting for class.”


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