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Allison was more than a little surprised when her eleven year old daughter walked up to her one afternoon and requested to fly kites that week. Of course, Allison accepted in a heartbeat, not even bothering to consult her diary for any prior arrangements. Nothing in the world could be more important to her than this. The only issue was that they didn’t have any kites. And although the natural reaction would be to go out and buy some, Allison had a better idea…
Together they lay in the sitting room atop the bright red and yellow play mat of Claire’s childhood which is engulfed by multicoloured paper, tubes of glue, glitter, wood, scissors, and sellotape. As they inspect the basic wooden structure that the kites are to be crafted onto, a gentle breeze from the open window cools them while the sunlight outside glows through the glass pains and paints the floor a pattern of golden boxes. Allison sighs contentedly and shifts onto her side, grasping a roll of red paper and holding it over the frame to see how it will fit. Meanwhile, Claire’s eyes flick back and forth from the textbook beside her and the thin blue paper which she’s already drawn soft pencil lines onto in order to mark their perimeters of her design.
“This is nice.” Allison says softly. “I can’t remember the last time we just spent time together like this.”
“Me neither.” Claire replies with one of her signature awkward smiles. The sight resulting in Allison barely resisting the compulsion to wrap her up in a hug and reassure her there’s nothing to be anxious about.
With a soft hum, Allison wraps her paper around the frame and carefully tapes the edges down, being sure not to leave a single crease or uneven fold. She hasn’t settled on a design yet, and after glancing over at Claire, realises she should have drawn an image before she attached the paper to the wood. Cursing herself, Allison considers trying to remove the tape but decides against it. If she does that, the paper might tear or some of it might come off with the tape, and she can’t deal with her work being anything less than perfect. As she gazes at the plain object, she feels an urge to just leave it as it is to not risk ruining it. It isn’t the prettiest thing in the world but it’s neat and it works, so there’s really no problem. Still, one look at her daughter reminds her why she’s doing this: to spend time with Claire. She has to decorate her kite, if only to make this moment last longer.
“Hey.” Allison prompts just loud enough to pull Claire’s attention away from using her felt tip pen to trace the pencil lines mimicking the pattern of a butterfly’s wing.
“Yes?” Claire inquires.
“I forgot to draw anything on this.” Allison says, holding her kite up. “What do you think I should put on it?”
Claire tilts her head in the way she always does during her musings. “There’s a tube of glitter over there. You could put some of that on it.”
“Oh, sure. Thanks.” Allison replies, looking back down at the kite.
She is not putting glitter on it. It always makes a huge mess. Sure, Allison is an adult and sitting on a mat, but she’s in the living room and she won’t deal with having a glitter covered carpet. ‘ It’s every parent’s worst nightmare ,’ she thinks with a small smile. But something about not honouring Claire’s idea feels wrong to her. If anything, she’s surprised Claire was brave enough to put forward a suggestion at all and she wants to encourage that. Looking apprehensively at the sparkly tube by her elbow, she picks it up and inspects it.
It’s about half full and doesn’t look like it’s been used since Claire was little. She remembers first buying it after Patrick told her how all children Claire’s age love glitter, a statement followed by fond recollection of his own childhood. And although she’d felt happy for him, she also felt jealousy bubbling below the surface. Dad never let her play with glitter, or make paper kites, or go to the park.
He’d always say something like: “Such childish behaviour is not befitting of a responsible young hero such as yourself, Number Three.”
When she was little, she tried to challenge him. “But I am a child, Dad!”
Every time she was met with a low tush: “Silence, Number Three. And don’t call me ‘Dad’.”
This went on until she stopped arguing. He was right, she was a solider, not a child. And such immature behaviour could get she and her entire family killed.
Looking at the glitter now, Allison feels a flicker of defiance. She’s going to use it, just because Dad told her not to. It’s admittedly a small victory against the years of abuse he inflicted on her, but he’s gone now so she’ll take anything she can get. Allison smears the surface of the paper with a thin layer of glue, then then unscrews the cap from the bottle and turns it on it’s side, lightly tapping it so the sprinkles are contained to the mat and won’t coat the floor.
She lets the edges of her vision blur just a little to bring out the cascade of sparkles raining down on her paper. It’s a mindless state, the most mindless she’s ever let herself be and although it feels odd there’s something comforting about it too. She isn’t really thinking about the thing she’s creating anymore, she’s enjoying the moment. It occurs to her that she could do this forever. Not thinking about looking perfect or going out to fight crime, just hanging out with someone she loves and enjoying their company.
“Are you alright…?” Claire’s hesitant voice shakes Allison out of her near comatose state.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” Allison responds, zoning back in to see the absolute mess she’s made of her kite. She feels a hot flush cover her face, she must look so foolish.
“You looked happy.” Claire says with a soft smile. “It was nice.”
The embarrassment fades away and replaces itself with a warm, cozy feeling. How long has it been since Claire spoke to her this openly? “Well, it’s been a while since I just relaxed. And what about you? How’s your kite coming along?”
Claire doesn’t say anything, just holds it up with what Allison notices as a tinge of pride in her movement. It’s beautiful, each stroke of ink meticulously placed to replicate the exact image Claire was using as reference. The light overhead shining through thin blue paper gives it the translucent appearance she had obviously been aiming for.
“Woah. That’s brilliant, Claire!” Allison praises. “Really great work, I’m so proud of you.”
Allison feels a sense of triumph as Claire’s face lights up with pride at her compliment. Allison has been making an effort to tell Claire that she’s proud of her or that she loves her at least once a day, and she’s happy to see it’s having the right effect.
“Thank you, Mom.” Claire whispers. Then, looking over at Allison’s kite: “You did a great job too.”
Allison chuckles. “Thanks, but you don’t have to say that just to be nice. I know it looks a bit of a mess.”
“No, really. I mean it. It looks so joyful, like whoever was making it was having a really good time.” Claire insists.
Allison smiles. “I suppose you’re right, it was fairly relaxing.” Then she turns to look out the window at the golden sun and the bright sky. “If they’re both ready, we can take them up to the moors to fly them now.”
“Really?” Claire asks, eyes wide and hopeful. “You’re sure you’re not too busy?”
“Oh, baby…” Allison whispers, feeling her heart break just a little. “Of course not. Nothing is more important to me than being with you. I hoped you knew that.”
“Oh- yes… er. Thank you.” Claire mumbles awkwardly, and quickly stands up to leave. “I’ll go and get my coat on then.”
Allison stares after her daughter as she disappears down the hallway. She bites her lip, allowing it to sting just a bit. She really hopes Claire didn’t take that as any kind of criticism. If only Allison could understand what went on in her head then she could check to make sure. Yet again she curses her powers. Why couldn’t she have been born with mind reading instead of mind control? It would be so much more helpful with things like this.
She decides to wait for Claire to work through whatever’s going on and takes advantage of the time to tie a spool of string around each kite so they could be held and flown properly, all the while being careful not to damage either of them. When you’re about to watch them glide in the air it’s easy to forget they’re fragile things and can be torn with a slight slip of the hand.
After making sure both strings are secure in place, Allison stands up and makes her way out of the sitting room and into the hall where she finds Claire standing still and staring into space with her coat half on.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Allison asks, startling Claire and causing her to jump .
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” Claire responds quickly, pulling her coat fully on and zipping it up. She then turns around to look at her mother for a long time before sighing. “It’s just… I’m worried there will be other people there. What if they see us?”
Allison closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath, remembering how complaints like these from Claire used to result in her fly off the handle and more often than not using her powers. “Listen…” she says in as reassuring a tone as she can muster. “I can’t promise you there won’t be, but I do promise you it will be fine. Nobody’s going to disturb our day.”
“But what if they try?” Claire mutters through tearful eyes.
“I’ll tell them to leave us alone, okay? I won’t let anyone get in the way of us having this time together.” Says Allison firmly.
“Okay…” Claire responds not sounding at all convinced. In all honesty, it makes Allison long for the days when Claire would just kick off about things like this. She used to hate that, but it was better than Claire always avoiding confrontation like she does now.
Allison manages to restrain herself from prying any further and hands Claire her kite. “Let’s get going, we don’t want to miss the good weather.”
——————
When at last the pair step out of the car, they are greeted by the sight of sun soaked hills and scrawny shrubs. Allison closes her eyes and lifts back her head, letting the rejuvenating light wash over her while Claire’s pinprick eyes scan the horizon over and over again for signs of disturbance. Allison relaxes when a few minutes tick by and nobody’s there. She won’t have to calm Claire down and they can have a nice peaceful outing.
She holds out her hand to Claire in a way she hopes strikes the correct balance between inviting but not too pushy. Claire looks nervously from Allison’s hand to Allison’s eyes and quickly glances back again. Slowly, as if frightened she’ll be shoved away at any moment, Claire takes Allison’s hand in her own and shifts slightly closer to her mother. Allison sighs contentedly, lightly stroking the top of Claire’s head and running her fingers through her daughter’s hair, noticing how it’s slightly thinner than her own.
Sure, she’s known that Claire’s entire life, but after everything that happened in Dallas things like that get to the forefront of her mind much more often than they used to. Her therapist told her noticing things like that are nothing to be ashamed of, that with her kind of trauma it’s to be expected. But even so it gives her a deep feeling of guilt at the pit of her stomach. She worries her trauma might get in the way of her loving Claire like she should. Hell, her childhood under Reginald has already done that and she can’t bear the thought of something else making it worse.
Allison takes in a calming breath and then looks down at her daughter. Her sweet, nervous Claire. The girl who spends every night studying, the girl who is too nervous to walk into town alone, the girl who she loves more dearly than anything. Her little girl. She goes through this kind of thought exercise all the time when it comes to her siblings, remembering what she adores about them, remembering they would never hurt her.
At least it’s easier with Claire. For all their differences in appearance, she and Claire both carry elements of that community Allison fought so hard to protect in the sixties. She thinks of Raymond and Odessa, and of how, with no questions asked, she was taken in on the night she landed in that alleyway. Despite her bleached hair and unusual outfit she was one of them, and she knows that if it had been Claire in that situation she would have received the exact same treatment.
Feeling relaxed enough to move again, Allison gives a gentle tug on Claire’s hand and they begin to wander along the well trodden footpaths, until they reach a small patch of shrub-less land with a beautiful view of the surrounding environment.
“Here?”
“Yeah. Thank you.” Claire hardly looks at the area, still tense as ever.
“Are you sure? Because we could keep looking if you’re not.” The issue is Claire can never be honest about what she wants. Everything is just “Okay”, or “Fine”, or “I’d like that”, and Allison knows by now that those words could mean anything from “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day” to “I’d absolutely hate that.”
“No, it’s good. Really. I like the view.” Claire responds quickly, holding out her kite and gesturing for Allison to stand beside her.
Allison walks up to Claire without another word. They stand still, unreeling their kites to watch them float into the cloudless blue sky. The thin tissue paper of Claire’s kite easily lets the light seep through and illuminate it in sections vibrant colour, separated by slices of black ink. Meanwhile the glitter on Allison’s dazzles in the sunlight, almost blinding in its radiance and nearly manages to overshadow the childish design. Allison glances at Claire whose eyes are sparkling with wonder. It’s a truly beautiful sight, one of the simpler joys, and Allison would never had experienced it if it had not been for Claire’s suggestion that hazy afternoon.
“Thanks for suggesting we do this, Claire. I’ve had a wonderful day.” Allison says sincerely.
“Don’t mention it.” Then, just as Allison expects the conversation to die, Claire follows up with. “I’m just glad you agreed to try it.”
“Of course I did! Who wouldn’t want to make kites with the best artist in our family?”
“It’s not my art, really. I just copied a reference image to fit the shape.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, it still obviously took a lot of concentration.” Asserts Allison, who is not going to let Claire belittle her own achievements like that.
“I guess so.” Claire relents. A few seconds of silence go by. “But I really like yours, it’s so sparkly.”
Allison holds back the immediate urge to belittle her own achievements now. ‘That wouldn’t set a very good example’ she reminds herself sternly. “I’m happy with how it turned out. Good call with the glitter.”
“Yeah.” Claire replies, suddenly sounding distant again.
Allison feels a stab of distress and wonders what she should do. She really doesn’t want to pry and end up scaring Claire away, but she doesn’t want to risk seeming like she doesn’t care either.
At risk of ruining the atmosphere, she turns to look fully at Claire. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve dropped off a few times today.”
Claire’s gaze flicks away from the kite and lands down by her feet. “I guess you’ll be getting a new part in a film soon.”
‘Okay, not entirely answering the question but not completely dodging it either. We can work with this.’ Allison thinks with some determination. “Does that bother you?”
Claire sighs. “A little bit, yes.”
“Why?” Allison asks softly, being careful to not come off as accusatory.
“Because… Because when you’re not working you’re not busy. And when you’re not working people don’t bother us as much by… y’ know… asking for pictures and stuff.” A twinge of pain hits Allison at the subtle break in her daughter’s voice.
She removes one hand from her kite and brushes it over Claire’s cheek.
“I just- deal with enough of that when I’m with Dad and it’s so stressful. It’s so stressful and I don’t know what to do…” And with that the tears building in Claire’s eyes shake free and she gives a low sob.
Allison wraps one of her arms around Claire and pulls her in for a hug. Claire reciprocates for the first time in years by pressing her head to Allison’s chest while she cries quietly, as if afraid that even this might draw too much attention to herself. All the while the kites hang forgotten in the air.
Looking down at her miserable daughter, Allison feels her throat start to tighten. She could stop this: she could quit Hollywood and never look back, she could abandon public life entirely and just focus on Claire. She could do that, couldn’t she? She isn’t sure. For her entire life she’s lived in the public eye, first as a superhero under Reginald, then as an actress and as a civil rights activist by her own choice. She’s so used to being under the limelight that it comes to her as naturally as breathing. Can she really to give that up?
But then she thinks of Claire. Her precious daughter didn’t choose this, and Allison never once stopped to think how such a lifestyle might impact her. When Allison’s siblings left public life behind, they left Reginald behind with it. If Allison doesn’t give it up, Claire might grow up to leave her behind too. But she can’t stop being an actress; it’s what she’d always wanted… Wasn’t it? Or did she just always want to be loved? She remembers watching the smiling families on the TV and being full of envy. Envy that drove her to decide that would be her one day, on TV, also smiling.
But it wasn’t really the movies she wanted to be a part of. It was the family. And now, looking down at Claire, she knows she can have that. Even if it takes some sacrifices. In the end, no spotlight could ever shine as bright as the love of her daughter.
Allison sucks in a breath, loosening her throat. “If that’s how you feel, I won’t audition for another film again.”
Claire’s head shoots up to regard Allison, eyes wide. “Really?”
“Really.” Allison responds firmly. “I’d do anything to make you feel happy and safe. It will take a while to get used to, but I’m willing to do it for you.”
“But how will we get money?” Claire asks glumly. “You said your Dad never let you get any qualifications.”
Allison laughs lightly. “The money I got from acting will last us a very long time, and when that runs out I can look for a new job. They don’t all require qualifications.”
Claire then tilts her head slightly and gives Allison a searching look.
“You okay?” Allison asks, puzzled by the expression on her daughter’s face.
“I’m trying to work out if you’re being sarcastic.” Claire says carefully.
If anyone else asked that question Allison would have felt exasperated. But because it’s Claire she firmly but gently says. “No, I’m not being sarcastic.”
Claire’s expression shifts from one of confusion to pure joy. “Thank you so much! You’re the best mom ever!” She cries, voice laced with gratitude, shooting forwards to wrap Allison in a tight hug.
‘ The best mom ever. ’ Those words echo powerfully in Allison’s head. She’s only ever heard that once, when she rumoured Claire into saying it. But now Claire’s said it of her own free will. Part of her wonders if this is all an elaborate fantasy inside her head, but when she tentatively wraps her arms around Claire her heart leaps and it’s clear that it’s real.
They stand together for a while, letting the calm whistle of the wind carry their comfort all around the space they share. When they finally break apart and turn back to the skies, their kites hang onto one another for a moment more, their threads wrapped together as they flutter in the breeze.