Two-year-old Sikudhani McCoy looked out the window, her little eyes wide. Two weeks ago, part of the wall that surrounded the mansion had been destroyed in a bad storm. Her uncles and a few of her aunts had rebuilt it, and now the debris was being hauled away. She was absolutely fascinated as she watched this happening; her eyes fixed on something bright and shiny.
When the job was finally finished, she turned from the window. Her daddy was gone for the day and she was just bursting to let someone know the wonderful sight she had seen. She looked over at the couch, where Bobby was watching a re-run of "My Favorite Martian" "Unca Bobby?"
"Yeah?" Bobby looked over at her.
She toddled over. "I saw a truck!" she exclaimed. "A red truck."
"Really?" Bobby smiled. "That's nice."
"It was so big and so red!" Siku exclaimed, sliding onto the sofa. "And the men took the junk away. In the red truck. The big, red, truck."
"Wow, that's great," Bobby murmured.
"Big truck. Red truck. Big, red, truck." She shook her head, still fascinated with what she had seen. For a little while, the disappointment at her father being gone diminished as she marveled. "Men were in the truck. An' they took the junk away. In the truck. The red truck."
"Uh-huh," Bobby said, not really listening. His own interest in the subject had waned. "Why don't you watch TV with me, Siku?"
She snuggled up to him, looking at the TV, but who cared about Martians when something so much more exciting had happened, right outside her door? "It was a big truck," she said. "Big and red."
"Yeah, big," Bobby said.
Siku frowned. She knew Unca Bobby was more interested in the silly TV show than in her news. She slid off the couch and walked into the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Gambit was making himself a sandwich. "Petite Bete!" he called out, when he saw her.
"Unca Remy!" She ran over to him, throwing her arms around his legs. "Hi Unca Remy!"
Remy put down the knife he had been using to spread mustard on his sandwich and scooped the child up in his arms. "What's new, Siku-Belle?"
"I saw a truck," she informed him.
"You did!" he exclaimed. "Where did you see the truck?"
"Outside. It was a big truck. Big an' red!"
"Oui, big and red," Remy said, nodding. "An' what was de truck doin'?"
"Some men got out of the truck. And they took the junk away. They put it in the big, red, truck an' drove away."
"Wow." Remy lowered her to the ground. "Do you wan' somet'in to eat?"
Siku shook her head. "No. I not hungry. It was a big truck."
"Oui. And was it red?" Remy asked, deciding to amuse the child.
"Yes. Big and red! An' the men took the junk away." Every time she repeated this information, she could see the whole incident happening again, and each time it never failed to seem more fascinating. How could something be so big and so red? "It was big an' red!"
Gambit finished his sandwich and went over to the table with it. Siku scrambled over, climbing into "her" chair. "Gonna join me while I eat?" he asked.
Siku nodded. "Unca Remy, I saw a truck!"
Dis is not an observation, it's an obsession, Remy thought. "I know you did, Siku. A big, red, truck."
"Yeah!" She grinned, her whole face lighting up. "Big, red, truck. An' it took all the junk away."
Remy was searching for something to say about the subject when Rogue walked into the room. "Hi!" she called out, cheerfully.
"'Ello, Rogue," Remy said, smiling. "Me an' Siku here were jus' talkin."
"Oh, really? About what?" She went over to the refrigerator and took a can of soda out.
"I saw a truck!" Siku exclaimed.
"You did!" Rogue opened the soda and came over to the table. "Really?"
Siku nodded her eyes wide. "A big truck."
"Yeah, Ah'll bet. What color was it?"
Remy suppressed a chuckle. You didn' 'ave to ask, he thought. You jus' 'ad to wait.
"It was red!" Siku crowed, happy that someone finally wanted to hear her news. "Big an' red!"
"My!" Rogue smiled, overly bright. "That must have been quite a sight."
"It was!" Siku exclaimed. "It was big, an' red! An' the men inside took all the junk away. Drove it away in the big, red, truck!" She smacked the table with her palms, emphasizing the wonders of the vehicle. "Big an' red!"
Rogue looked over at Remy, one brow raised. Remy shrugged and smiled. "What else did ya do today, Siku?" Rogue asked, wanting to get her off the subject of the truck.
Siku stared at her. Was she not listening? "I saw a truck!" she exclaimed. "A big, red, truck!"
For several minutes, Remy and Rogue tried to get the child onto another subject, but it was of no use. Everything came back to the truck. "Who's supposed to be in charge of her?" Rogue finally asked.
"Jean an' Scott, I believe," Remy said.
"Well, maybe they should be listening to this instead."
Siku heard none of this. She was too busy telling them about the truck, whether they wanted to hear about it or not.
When Remy finished his sandwich, he scooped up Siku. "I t'ink I'll take her over t'Scott an' Jean's."
He found Scott and Jean sitting on the porch of their private house on the estate grounds. "'Ello," he called out. "I t'ought I'd bring Siku over."
Scott rose from the porch and came over to take the child from his arms. "Hey there, Siku."
"Hi Unca Scott!" She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him.
"Thank you, Remy," Jean said, smiling. "We were going to head over there in a couple minutes. She was watching TV with Bobby earlier, and he said he would keep an eye on her for awhile."
"I t'ink Bobby got too engrossed in de TV show," Remy said, "So I volunteered t'bring her."
"Guess what I saw?" Siku grinned, looking at Uncle Scott.
"What did you see?" Scott asked.
Sucker, Remy thought, trying not to laugh. "Well, I'll see you later. 'Ave fun." He turned and walked off.
"I saw a truck!" Siku exclaimed, not even seeing Remy walk off. She had a new audience!
"You did?" Scott said, looking over at Jean and smiling. There were times when they envied Hank for having a daughter. They were hoping to have children of their own someday. In the meantime, they loved "practicing" with Sikudhani. "My!"
"It was a big truck!" Siku told them. "Big an' red!"
"Wow!" Scott said, pretending to be more excited than he actually was. He carried Siku up to the porch, and put her on the swing chair between himself and Jean.
"The men came, in the big, red, truck," Siku exclaimed. "An' they take all the junk, an' they put it in the big, red, truck, an' they drove away."
"Where did you see this?" Jean asked, reaching over and stroking her hair.
"Right outside the house!" Siku's face lit up; thrilled that someone new was here to listen. Maybe Uncle Scott and Aunt Jean would appreciate this. "They drove up in the big, red, truck. Oh, it was so big!"
Twenty minutes later, Scott was sound asleep, lulled by Siku's little voice talking about the same thing repeatedly. Jean looked over at him, frowning. It did not seem fair that he could just get out of this by falling asleep. She looked down at Siku. "It seems that your Uncle Scott is asleep."
Siku looked and nodded. "Uncle Scott take a nap!" she crowed.
"Maybe we should go over to the mansion," Jean suggested. "So we don't wake him up."
"Okay." Siku took Aunt Jean's hand and slid off the porch swing with her. "Aunt Jean, I like trucks. Big, red, trucks!"
"That's nice," Jean said, absentmindedly.
"There were men in the truck," Siku said. "An' they took all the junk away. The junk from the wall. The wall broke in the storm. An' they took it away in the big, red, truck!"
"Yes, I know, you told me," Jean said.
They found Bishop in the recreation room, reading a book. He only made it through five minutes of listening to Siku's story of the truck when he made up some flimsy excuse and left the room.
"Would you like to play a game?" Jean asked Siku, desperately searching for something to take the child's mind off the truck.
"I wanna play I'm a truck!" Siku said. "I be a truck. A big, red, truck." She got down on her hands and knees and began scooting over the rug. "See? I'm driving to the house. I'm gonna get the junk an' take it away! The junk from the wall!"
Jean sat down on the sofa, burying her face in her hands. "How about we talk about something else?"
"Okay," Siku got up and looked at her. "What we talk 'bout Aunty Jean?"
"Uhm... how about flowers?" Jean said.
"Okay. I like flowers," Siku said.
"What kind of flowers do you like best?" Jean asked.
"Roses!" Siku said. "I like the roses."
"So do I," Jean agreed. Storm had a wonderful garden in the back with some exquisite rose bushes. "Shall we go outside and look at your Aunt Storm's roses?"
"Sure!"
They went outside together. Storm was not in the garden, but Logan was. "Unca Logan!" Siku cried out, running over and hugging him.
"Hey Peanut!" Logan scooped her up. "How ya doin'?"
"I'm fine," Siku said, giggling as he tickled her. "Aunt Jean an' I came out t'look at the roses."
"Well, you picked a fine day for it. They're looking real pretty." Logan put her down and looked over at Jean. "The storm we had didn't do much damage to the gardens at all."
"Yes, remarkable, isn't it?" Jean said, a small smile on her face.
Siku trotted over to the rosebushes. "Yellow roses, pink roses, white roses," she called out, naming the colors.
"Very good!" Jean said, encouraging her. At least it was something different to discuss.
"An' red ones!" Siku shouted. She ran over to Logan. "Guess what I saw!"
"What's that, little darlin'?" Logan asked.
Oh, no! Jean thought, shaking her head.
"I saw a truck!" Siku told Logan, proudly. "A big, red, truck!"
"You did?" Logan said.
"Yeah. It came up to the house an' some men got out an' they took the junk away. The junk from the wall. They took it all away in the big, red, truck!"
"Huh, well, that's good," Logan said, looking over at Jean, who was looking very tired all of a sudden. "We didn't want those old bricks and stuff messing up the yard anyway. You might have tripped over the mess and gotten hurt."
"Yeah," Siku agreed. "So they took it all away in the big, red, truck!"
While Siku babbled happily about the truck, Logan looked at Jean. Let me guess, she's been on the same subject for awhile? he thought.
You better believe it, Jean communicated back. And nothing seems to distract her from it for long.
"When I grow up, I wanna drive a truck!" Siku exclaimed. "A big, red, truck!"
Well, I'm sure this is a major event in her life, Logan thought, He managing to keep looking at Siku, nodding his head when he thought it was appropriate. She's just a kid; she hasn't seen all the things we have.
Yes, but that doesn't mean I want to hear about it for the next four hours or so, until her father gets home.
"An' the men hauled the junk away in the truck!" Siku continued.
I agree with you, Logan thought. How does Hank put up with it?
Maybe something happens when you become a parent, Jean thought back. Maybe you get some sort of special gift that enables you to listen to the same thing a million times without wanting to scream.
That must be it. Logan grinned.
"It was a big, red, truck!" Siku babbled happily. "Red, like the roses are red. But it was bigger than the roses. But it was red, like the roses!"
Any suggestions on what to do? Jean asked.
Logan though for a moment. I might have an idea. Do you trust me?
If it helps keep her amused without having to hear about the truck, then yes!
"Siku, wanna come with me?" Logan asked, bending over so he was eye to eye with the child.
"Sure. What we gonna do?" Siku asked.
"You'll see," Logan said.
An hour later, partially motivated by guilt, Jean decided to check and see how Logan was doing with Siku. She found him in the observation area of the danger room. Siku was not with him. "Where is she?" Jean asked.
"In the room," Logan said. "I designed a special program for her."
Jean came over and looked. Siku was sitting on a holographic version of her father's lap, hugging him and talking happily. The holographic version of Hank was listening intently, nodding, as if the discussion they were having was the most fascinating one he had ever heard.
Logan grinned and turned on the sound for a moment.
"An' Daddy, I saw a truck!" Siku was exclaiming.
"Wow, you did?" Holographic Hank exclaimed. "What color was it?"
"It was red!" Siku said.
"Really? Are you sure? Maybe it was green."
"No, it was red!" Siku giggled.
"Was it a small truck?"
"No, it was a big truck!" Siku said.
Logan turned off the sound in the room and leaned back in his chair. "Problem solved," he said, looking a bit smug. "She's got a perfect audience. One who will listen to her as long as she wants to talk."
Jean suppressed a chuckle. "Aren't you at all worried about the damage this might do to her self esteem?" she asked. "When she's older and realizes she was pawned off to a holograph?"
Logan shrugged. "I was more worried about what damage we might to do her physical self if we had to keep listening to her babble. Don't get me wrong, Jeanie. I love the kid, we all do. But love doesn't mean you have to be fascinated with every word she says. That's her father's job."
"Mmm, I suppose." Jean remembered, not too long ago, when Siku was being toilet trained. Hank found the subject fascinating and enjoyed relating in excruciating detail, every single moment and triumph of the sacred event, even though the other X-Men were far from interested. She looked down at the scene in the danger room. Siku's eyes were glowing with happiness. "Well, she seems to be enjoying herself."
"Sure she is," Logan agreed. "I'll keep an eye on her, make sure nothing happens. Not that anything really could. All safeties are on in the room." He looked over at Jean. "Don't worry about her, she'll be fine."
Jean hesitated, then walked over to Logan. Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek. "I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you properly."
Logan reached up and touched his cheek. "That was moren' enough," he said, gruffly.
At six o'clock that evening, Hank returned home. Everyone, including Scott and Jean was in the dining room, finishing dinner. He walked into the room, holding a large bag from Kay-Bee toys. "Hello everyone!"
"Daddy!" Siku shouted, trying to slide out of her chair. "You're home!"
Hank put down the bag and walked over to his daughter. "Yes, Sunshine. Daddy's home." He scooped her up out of the chair, embracing her. He nodded in greeting to the other X-Men, who smiled at the sight of father and daughter.
She hugged him as tightly as her arms would allow. "I missed you!"
"I missed you too, Sunshine." He put her down. "But I brought you a present."
"Really?" Siku's eyes lit up like two blue stars. "What you bring me, Daddy?"
Hank picked up the bag and handed it to her. "Why don't you open the bag and see?"
Siku opened the bag and looked inside. "Oh, Daddy!" Pulling the bag away, she held up the gift for all the X-Men to see.
It was a toy truck. The polished red surface reflected the light from the room, sparkling brightly.
A collective groan rolled through the room. Several members of the team began shaking their heads.
"What?" Hank asked, looking bewildered. He had seen the truck in a display window and knew Siku would love it. "Don't tell me you think the truck is an inappropriate toy for a young girl. You know I have never believed in gender defining toys for Sikudhani. She should be allowed to play with whatever toys she wishes."
"Never mind, Hank," Logan said. He rose from the table and grabbed his plate, walking into the kitchen.
One by one, the other X-Men followed suit. Hank watched as they filed out, feeling increasingly perplexed. Why should they be perturbed at a gift purchased for his daughter? It was not as if they had not bought her many gifts themselves for Siku. Even gifts that some would say were toys for little boys rather than little girls. He shook his head and looked at his daughter, who was trying to get the truck from its cardboard wrapper. "Here, Sunshine. Let me help."
She handed the toy to him, smiling happily. "Daddy, guess what I saw today?"
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