Galadriel appeared by my bedside last night. Which sounds like something that belongs in Lord of the Rings, but this was no elf queen; it was my friend and writing group mate, who I thought had been killed in yesterday's explosion at the Wilk. Except she was very much alive, albeit scratched up and dirty. Nonetheless, the sight of my good friend, smiling down at me in my hospital bed, was more beautiful to me than Cate Blanchett could ever be.
"You're alive!" I said, because I'm really good at stating the obvious. "How'd you get out?"
She grinned mischievously. "Can you keep a secret?"
I nodded. "You've kept mine."
"The ceiling was about to fall on me, so I went the only way I could--down. I burrowed into the earth below the Wilkinson Center."
This is when I began to question whether I was actually awake.
Sensing my disbelief, Galadriel playfully backhanded me in the arm. "What, you live in a world with a man who climbs walls, a woman who can make herself invisible, and a thawed-out super-soldier from World War II, not to mention one where you can fly, and you can't believe that one of your friends has abilities beyond those of the average human?"
My jaw dropped. "You're a mutant too?"
Galadriel laughed. "No. Being a mutant isn't the only way to have superpowers. It's a long, boring story, involving my dad's lab at BYU, an experiment gone awry, and a radioactive wombat. But don't go telling everyone. People get weird about this kind of thing." (I figure it's okay for me to mention it here, since I'm not using her real name.)
She gave me a hug, then headed home to clean up. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't stop thinking about Galadriel's revelation. I'd always known that there were people like Spider-Man, Captain America, and the Fantastic Four, who have powers but aren't mutants, but I hadn't really thought about it before. Are their powers just as offensive to God as mutant powers are? I suppose so, since it's just another form of counterfeit, distracting us from the true power of the priesthood. But I can't imagine God faults Galadriel for using her power to save herself, anymore than he faults me for using mine to save me, Chenry, and Tara. Or Jan for using hers.
Just as soon as the doctor gives me a clean bill of health, I'm out of here. I'll head over to Marsha's for Christmas day festivities, as planned, but not before I stop by Jan's place. If I can track her down, my Christmas will be complete.