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On a particularly blistering Wednesday afternoon, they were visited by a stranger.
Now, it wasn’t like Ed and Edna’s Scrap N’ Junk was never visited by people Jay didn’t know. There were always people Jay didn’t know, because NC Island was massively huge and Jay didn’t get out much.
Their junkyard, rather, was visited by clients. People that called or texted or emailed Jay’s parents (or even Jay, on occasion) ahead of time so they could find and secure all of the spare or scrap parts of whatever they needed. Specific metals, alloys, car parts, helicopter parts, bus parts, frames, a really big sheet of steel that one time…
And it was an off day anyway! It was the middle of the week, during the hottest time of the day, in a desert. They were all just lounging about in their air conditioned trailer, because what else were you gonna do? It was too hot to do anything — if you went outside, you’d instantly melt.
Jay just happened to be bopping away at his Switch closest to the door, so he had to answer the rap-rap-rap on the metal.
He sighs, before summoning his best customer service smile, forged by many years of his parents being the nicest people to exist.
“How can I help you, sir?” Is out before Jay even takes in the person outside. “We’re closed today, but if you’d like to arrange an appointment with us, you’re more than welcome to visit our website… or like, call… just not show up randomly.”
The stranger on their doorstep, huddled under their shade like his life depends on it, laughs. “Oh, uh… I’m not here for that.”
“…What are you here for?” Usually mail people didn’t take this long getting to the point, especially when they had to go so far out. A salesperson?
The stranger knits his hands together. He’s older, but it looks like he’s perfectly adapted to it, giving him a timeless sort of look. He has dark hair, lit dark brown in the sunlight and peppered with gray, with dark eyes to match. His suit is perfectly tailored, a flattering shade of green, and entirely unhelpful in saving him from the oppressive heat. He looks vaguely familiar, somewhat, and it frustrates Jay that he can’t place him at the moment.
“I’m here for Jay?” The stranger flashes a nervous grin, and even his teeth are too blindingly white. “I’m, uh, his father?”
Jay freezes, hand still on the trailer door. This was — he’s — what about—!
The handle sparks slightly and stings his fingertips, making him jump away from the door slightly. “Mom? Dad?”
When Jay was thirteen, his parents took him aside after dinner one night and told him. That he wasn’t their biological kid, that one stormy night in November Jay had shown up on their doorstep, crying so loud that they could hear him over the cracks of lightning and the rolling thunder.
He’d been a gift, his mom had said.
It’d made sense, even back then. He didn’t look much like his parents — both of them lacked his thick curls and endless amounts of freckles.
(It made Jay wonder he was even more alone than he’d thought, since he didn’t know who else felt static tickle at the ends of their fingertips.)
His parents only said that they’d tried to look for his birth parents once, and they’d been unsuccessful. All they knew is that his father was very successful. Very wealthy. He had to be if he’d been able to rid himself of such a young child so easily.
Jay, fifteen, set the glass in front of the man, then sat in between his parents. His biological father, forehead still shiny with sweat, took it, flashed Jay another blinding smile, and drained it in seconds.
“So,” Jay started, tapping his nails along the table. “You’re my biological father.”
“Haha, yeah.” He said, extending a hand. Neither of his parents, to either side of Jay, moved to take it, so Jay did — and they shook hands firmly. His father took back his hand as quickly as he’d offered it. “Cliff Gordon.”
“Cliff Gordon?” Now that sounded familiar, where…?
“You might know me from Love, Occasionally or The 67 Hour Date or The Thing About Jackie.” He seemed to grimace, but Jay wasn’t sure. “A lot of rom-coms right now. I’m set to be in this new movie that’s based on these sci-fi comics…”
Jay couldn’t help himself. “Starfarer?”
“So I take it you’re a fan?”
And oh. Jay was caught, adrenaline suddenly crackling through his veins. He didn’t know anything about this guy, and yet Jay felt like he’d stupidly fallen into a trap. “Uh. S-something like that.”
Beside him, his mom rubbed his back. To the other side, his dad placed a single supportive hand on his.
Their silent support grounded him, a lightning rod for his storm. He sighed. “So why visit me now?”
“Well…” Cliff fiddled with the cuff of his suit jacket. “When you, uh, when you’re living your life comfortably and then your soundstage is attacked by a man piloting a giant shark-themed mech, you realize just how fragile it is, it really makes you reevaluate everything you’ve done, and everything you haven’t done.”
“Y - you’re only seeing me now because you were in a Garmadon attack?” Jay said incredulously.
“Survived a Garmadon attack, and yes.”
So it wasn’t for Jay, then. It was for some procrastinated sense of duty, not something he wanted to do. He didn’t want Jay.
The teen slumped in his seat. “What about my mom, then?”
Cliff raised a brow, seemingly confused by the question. “Uh, I don’t know where she is.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know where she is?”
“That’s kind of the nature of showbiz, kid.” He wiped his brow again. “You see someone once on-set, and then you don’t see them again until another fifteen years at some awards show, winning Best Supporting Actress and you can’t help but—“
“It’s been fifteen years.” Jay grit out, crackling sparks dancing around his hands. The air of the trailer became thicker, more charged. Jay could feel electricity bouncing off the metal walls.
The man’s eyes widened. “Well — well I couldn’t find her! I couldn’t find her after she ran off with you all those years ago, and then I had shooting the next day—“
“You didn’t go after her?”
“She never came back!” He managed to snap back, regaining his footing. “She never came back to me or the career she could’ve had — she was about to hit her big break, I just knew it! She insisted on doing it all on her own, and then she had the baby, and then she just vanished! Poof! I don’t know what else to tell you, kid, one day your girlfriend tells you you’re having a d — a baby — and the next thing you know she up and vanishes on you, after all the strings you’ve pulled to convince every director you can to waste it all on some nobody—“
Electricity was building up in him faster than it had ever before — little sparks in his fingertips traveling, getting stronger as it flowed up his arms. A floaty, almost pins-and-needles feeling filled him up, like a million little ants marching incessantly on the inside of his skin. It traveled further, constructing around his throat, filling his head with static, deafening static.
And all at once, lightning struck.
“GET OUT!”
“Wh — but I’ve got—“
Jay’s eyes whirled on him, dark brown eyes replaced by a dangerous, unblinking blue. “Get. Out.”
The most Cliff could do was obey, scrambling to his feet and vacating their trailer as soon as he could.
Good.
Jay had long since had enough of him.
It turns out Cliff was trying to give Jay something.
In the next two weeks, an envelope arrived for Jay, its paper a distinctive blue. Inside was a note explaining in brief terms how he could use the other item inside, a sleek card with the Starfarer characters plastered on it, for just about anything he wanted, no strings attached.
When his mom had finished reading the note out loud, Jay picked up the credit card and really studied it. It was a good thing Cliff gave him a card with the comic designs. He didn’t think how he’d be able to look at Cliff’s face that much.
Jay had sighed and handed it to his mom, who tucked it away in her wallet. For when they really needed it, the two of them decided.
He didn’t think his birth father would send him anything else after that. But, lo and behold, a couple months later, another blue envelope showed up.
He’d called over both his parents and they watched him open it, to reveal a myriad of documents: a couple of articles about disappearances, his birth certificate, a police report, and even some photos.
Libber. Her name was Libber.
She had wild blonde curls, dark freckles, and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. In every picture she was smiling, a genuine, thousand-watt smile, in most of them she was with who had to be a baby Jay, cradling him or showing him something new or even just holding him up to the camera, presenting him as if she were saying isn’t this incredible? I made this!
She looked so full of life. But she’d disappeared without a trace, not even leaving a body behind.
Where had she gone?