Like a Surge

by Olivette Devaux

  “True,” Cooper agreed with a sigh. “I just don’t like seeing Clegg win.”

  “I don’t see him winning anything, love,” Ash cajoled “And besides, we have a river access easement just like they have a railroad easement. All this just means that if we want to protect the privacy of this place, we’ll have to run the wall parallel to the railroad. Either that, or a fence.”

  “A living fence,” Cooper thought aloud. “How about something prickly, to keep people out, but low on maintenance? Because if the old spur gets turned into a river trail, which is quite likely, we’ll want to minimize traffic into our compound. Something harder to trespass than just climbing a stone wall. And we’ll have to hide the tunnel entrance, too,” Cooper said. “But don’t worry. I have some ideas.”

  All this threatened to run into more money, and not for the first time, warm relief spread through Cooper’s chest as recalled the moment when Ash had agreed to rent out the unoccupied houses.

  CHAPTER 19

  As Russ zipped up his duffel bag, he threw one last look at the plain walls and thrift store furniture of his little bachelor pad. It was as cold as it looked, and with the heat turned down in anticipation of staying the weekend at Paul’s place, he wondered whether he was only imagining the smell of mildew. When the sound of ice cubes falling into their plastic bin in his little freezer just few feet away made him jump, he realized he had been living in almost complete silence.

  His pad didn’t have the vibe of a home anymore, having turned into a mere storage unit for the seldom used items in his life.

  His clothes. A collection of CDs, the content of which now resided on his phone anyway. A library of escapist space operas, teaching books and professional literature, and a set of spare toothbrushes. Used furniture on institutional carpeting that had been cleaned a few too many times.

  Did his life add up just to this? Eating, sleeping, and going to work, with the necessary daily run to quell the anxiety over seeing what wasn’t supposed to exist?

  Russ picked up his phone and dialed a number that had seen a lot of use in the last three weeks.

  “Hi, Russ!” Paul answered with his usual cheer. “You coming?”

  “Yeah, yeah I am.” Russ cleared his throat self-consciously. “I just wanted to ask you, y’know... about staying the whole weekend. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “Why?” The injured tone of Paul’s voice sent a stab of guilt through his chest.

  “We’re moving too fast, and I don’t wanna fuck it up,” Russ blurted out. “I just... this is good, Paul. Real good. But I’ve never done the full-out boyfriend thing, and I don’t know my way around yet. So you need to tell me if I cramp your style, or step on your toes, okay?”

  A beat of silence stretched long enough to send Russ’ blood pressure soaring. Did he say too much, or –

  “You’re dragging your feet, and that’s hurting my feelings. I think you better bring me something romantic to get out of the dog house.” Paul’s over-the-top delivery almost made Russ laugh. Almost, because he was new at this, and he really, really didn’t have a clue as to what was expected of him.

  “Okay,” he said, now somewhat subdued as he searched the recesses of his memory for what constituted a romantic gesture. “I’ll be there soon.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Russ walked the aisles of a big-box home improvement store, looking for a romantic gift. He was here out of sheer inertia, and also because he still had money on the gift card he used to get a gas discount – and because he was mortally certain that Paul wouldn’t be into flowers, or chocolate, or any other girl shit like that.

  Paul was a man. As such, he needed manly things.

  And men appreciated the practical things in life, right?

  A small, niggling voice whispered to him that Paul had loved the over-the-top, wrought copper bed canopy with all its decorative elements well enough. Russ muffled that voice for now. That had been just a bed, and he’d had help with it. Now he was supposed to come up with a romantic gesture all on his own.

  Not the potted orchids or other plants – too girly, and Paul would probably electrocute them (and was that even a thing, electrocuting plants?)

  Not tools, he’d save those for Christmas.

  Not rubber boots or gloves, which might undermine Paul’s efforts to control his surge issues.

  He needed something both personal and useful, something just right. And then he saw it, and grinned.

  AS SOON AS Paul heard the knock on his door, he rushed to open. He knew it was Russ just from the weight of his knuckles against the green-painted wood, and if he wasn’t using his key, it meant his hands were full.

  Paul’s whole being lit up with a smile. His boyfriend must have gotten one of those big fancy flower arrangements if his hands were this full. He’d been hoping for chocolate, actually, or maybe a bag of caramel popcorn they could share as they watched a movie – but flowers were nice too.

  He loved them.

  He missed them, the way he missed his mom’s little cutting garden, which he used to raid to create arrangements as amazing as his rubber gloves permitted.

  The rubber gloves protected the tender stems from the sparks created by his excitement – and his mom always gushed, and smiled, and told him he should become a florist. Which was, of course, impossible, because the rubber gloves slowed him down too much for commercial work. Landscaping was an acceptable second-best job, but still... flowers!

  When Paul opened the door, he saw a cardboard box, levitated by two gloved hands. “Russ?” This was Russ, wasn’t it?

  “Here, watch out, it’s a bit bulky,” Russ said in a voice muffled by whatever he was holding.

  Moments later, they had the mystery box set in a living room which sported only a worn leather sofa Paul had found free on Craigslist, and a modular IKEA wall with a modest television in a space designated for something a lot larger.

  Paul stepped back, crossed his arms, and tilted his head in a quizzical look. “Well?”

  Russ writhed the smallest bit. “Well. As romantic gestures go, I figured I’d get you something manly. And that means practical, right? But not tools, and not insulating devices...”

  Amazed, amused, and just a little appalled, Paul listened to a verbal diarrhea of Russ’ rationale. He’s a geek, Paul reminded himself internally. He’s a techie professor in his first relationship. And yet he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep both humor and a sense of bewilderment from creeping into his voice. “So you got me lawn chairs?”

  “Well, I thought of getting just one,” Russ said with the sort of excitement he showed while presenting new class material. “But the ones sold separately were plastic, and too cheap, and you need something conductive to sit on. And this came in a set of two chairs and a table, and it has a cast aluminum structure, so it will be nice and conductive for you... and it says ‘Some assembly required,’ see?” He pointed to the label on the box. “And you like assembling things, so here you go. It’s the perfect romantic gift!”

  “Thank you,” Paul said with a grin he could no longer hold back. “This is hilarious!”

  “Hilarious?” Russ didn’t sound upset, or judgmental. Only curious.

  “Yeah, I thought you’d pick up a supermarket bouquet of flowers for me to arrange, or some chocolates we could sin on while we put on The Watchman. And you got me lawn furniture, even though we don’t have a lawn.” He realized he used a plural, and backpedaled. “I mean, I don’t have a lawn. I know you’re not ready to move in yet, and I’m not trying to push you or anything.” Searing heat rose to his face, and with it he felt that tingle of increased electrical potential surge under his skin.

  “Paul.” From his alarmed voice, Russ saw it too.

  “I know.” Paul drew a deep breath, then exhaled and focused on what Uncle Owen called his ‘center.’ He felt it better now, that whirling sphere of invisible energy and its charged spikes that used his ‘meridians’ as though they were water pipes.


  Awareness was everything, and now that he knew what to look for, he slowly exhaled, opened his eyes, and spread his arms, with fingers aimed at each other.

  He let go the slightest bit.

  An electrical arc jumped from his left hand to his right, lighting up the room in a wash of pale blue, and splitting the air with a crack.

  “Shit!” Russ jumped back in surprised. “Wow!”

  “It won’t hurt you. You can ground this out, I’m releasing it just bit by bit.”

  The lightning flashed back, from right to left, then back again. “I’d like to learn to make a sphere lighting, or a few, and juggle them,” Paul said in a voice that was thin as most of his focus went toward the display which Russ still found, quite apparently, incredible.

  “You’ve gotten so much better since last weekend.” Russ’ words were a balm to his soul. A validation, an acknowledgment of his hard work. “This is, wow. It’s impressive, and pretty, and I think I’ll have to hook up that battery pack to the lightning rod wire.”

  Paul let loose one more little bolt, shook out his fingers, and sniffed the air. “I make too much ozone,” he said. “That’s bad for our lungs, did you know? Mark looked it up for me. He says we need a ventilation system.” He then stroked the box and refocused on his gift. “Let’s put this together, and you can tell me what was going through your mind when you decided I need two very nice lawn chairs and a table.”

  When the living room had a wrought iron and teak table with two matching, folding chairs standing by the sofa, Russ hefted one chair, and grunted in satisfaction. “This will come in useful once the new tenants move in down the street,” he said.

  “Come again?”

  Russ caressed him with his patient gaze. “I keep forgetting you’re new to Pittsburgh. Look, we spent time shoveling our parking spaces, right?”

  “Yes?”

  “And it would suck if somebody else parked in your space while you’re working or at school, right? So, it’s customary to put a lawn chair in your parking space. Just so the neighbors, or their visitors, don’t park where they shouldn’t.”

  “Oh, is that what those chairs in the streets are for?” A merry bubble of laughter escaped Paul as he thought back to the unlikely sight he had been wondering about for days. “That’s fabulous, thank you! And when it’s not snowing, we can use them for having brunch on the sidewalk. Or out back, if we civilize that narrow strip of land between the house and the hill.”

  Russ’ nod flopped his black hair into his eyes. As he watched him push it to the side, Paul realized that two chairs meant securing parking for two vehicles. Maybe Russ was more ready to move in than he knew – but Paul stayed his tongue, and only nodded toward the kitchen. “There’s dinner in the oven. I made lasagna.” No need to scare Russ away by getting hasty.

  CHAPTER 20

  The solid cover of snow made the inside of their warm, cinnamon-scented kitchen even cozier. Cooper leaned back, taking in Ash and his production of their morning coffee over the rim of his laptop. Ash brought the two mugs over, black and hot and fragrant. A day with a -15 degrees Fahrenheit wind chill made him glad he was still working from their second bedroom. “The house is wired and inspected,” Cooper said, relaying the contents of the latest construction update. “The crew will be putting up the drywall tomorrow and over the weekend, after which they’ll take their Christmas break during the week. By the time we get back, there should be more than just subfloors everywhere.”

  Ash set down their mugs. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to stay away for a whole ten days,” he fussed. “Suppose Brian Clegg’s crew attacks the node? If he was going to do it, it would be over the solstice, while we’re up in Minnesota, dancing naked in the snow.” He grimaced. “Please tell me Uncle Owen was only kidding about that part.”

  Cooper gave a helpless shrug. “You know as much as I do. Since my gift manifested late, I’d never been part of these rituals, which is why we’re going.” His expressions softened into a fond smile. “Besides, I want you to meet everyone. People have already heard about you, and Grandma Olga wanted to talk to you in person again.”

  They sipped their coffee as one. The mood grew somber, as though Ash, just like Cooper, remembered that last time they had seen Grandma Olga, Ash got roped into redirecting a tornado.

  “We’ll need to meet with everyone again. The whole team will reinforce the shield around the node before we go.”

  “All except Ellen,” Cooper reminded him in a surge of protectiveness directed toward his pregnant cousin. “All her power needs to go to the baby.”

  “Of course.”

  “And we owe them, because they’re not getting to see the clan just so we can go,” Cooper reminded Ash. Ellen and Mark seemed perfectly happy to stay, however, and Hank had promised that they would carry out their own Solstice celebration. He even offered to keep an eye on Paul and ground him out if needed, although with Russ around so often, and with Paul’s hard work, that shouldn’t be necessary.

  “MY FOLKS WANT to see you for Christmas,” Russ said as he and Paul were spooning on the sofa. The long cuddle had begun as a discussion on which movie to see next – movies were great, now that Paul could watch them without frying the remote control–and had stretched into one of those endless talks that couples had to have every so often. They meandered from one subject to another as they were getting to know each other.

  “I really hate that carpet, but the apartment’s owned by this big rental company, and they won’t replace it. They won’t give me their permission to do it on my own either.” Russ didn’t know how they’d got onto the way he lived, and he sure didn’t know how did he ever began complaining about a place that had turned from his private kingdom into a glorified storage unit.

  Many people would’ve been happy to live in a place like that.

  Rationally speaking, there was nothing wrong with it, other than a bit of wear and tear.

  And yet...

  “That sucks for you.” Paul sounded almost cheerful.

  In fact, Paul sounded cheerful almost all the time, now that his Faraday cage-enclosed bed drained his charge overnight and stored it in the newly-installed batteries in the basement. He always welcomed him with a smile, and now that the weather prevented him from riding his motorcycle to classes, he cheerfully accepted Russ’ offer to pick him up and drop him off again.

  Except that it was quite a detour for Russ, and it made all the sense in the world for Russ to stay the night, especially since so much of his own clothing was hanging in Paul’s closet. His new toothbrush sat next to Paul’s. They had even settled on a toothpaste brand and flavor.

  “How ’bout we just turn in?” Paul’s suggestion, an indecent one as he ground his ass into his groin, interrupted Russ’ train of thought.

  He did feel tired, and tomorrow was a work day. Besides, if the snow persisted and some of the power lines came down further north, he’d probably be on call to help the crews stay safe... and to covertly observe the location and strength of electromagnetic fields, guiding them, knowing which wire was live and which was safe to touch at a glance. “Okay,” he said, and stifled a yawn. “Are you ready for your test on Friday?”

  “Yes. Being the teacher’s pet has its privileges.”

  Russ wished Paul had not reminded him of that little detail. At least he was an astute student – and now all tests were assigned random numbers, which made his grading process free of personal bias. “If you won’t be good, I’ll spank you with a ruler,” Russ issued an empty threat.

  Like always, Paul chuckled. “Promises, promises.”

  Minutes later, when in the darkness of Paul’s bedroom languid caresses merged into long, sweet kisses, that grounded, solid feeling of knowing he was in the right place washed over Russ again.

  This is home. He didn’t quell his inner voice this time; instead, he pulled Paul a little closer, and inhaled his familiar scent.

  TWO WEEKS PASSED in quiet lassitude. Paul finished his hi
gh voltage course with a very solid B and signed up for two more in the series. Russ gave notice to his landlord and moved the few things he cared about into their house.

  Their house, not just Paul’s, because they agreed to split their costs evenly.

  The action had been precipitated by Mark’s insistence that they all wanted Russ there, as long as he didn’t break Paul’s heart, in which case he would get his ass kicked. Hank hadn’t said anything, but he had nodded and smiled, which was as good as a standing ovation. Ellen had thrown herself into his arms and kissed his cheek. “Welcome to the family.” Her quiet whisper was like the wind she so aptly controlled, cool and refreshing.

  So here he was, stuck with January’s rent payment for the old place, but the money was well worth it if he could spend his days basking in the sunshine of Paul’s smile. On Thursday, two days before the solstice, their idyllic solitude was broken by an early phone call.

  “Ugh, a storm’s wreaking havoc down south,” Russ whispered, not wanting to wake Paul up, but needing to let him know that he was leaving.

  Paul pulled him in. “That means I’ll be out there later, when it makes its way up here.” Their shared morning hugs would be followed by packed lunches (“We don’t need to eat crappy food just because the other guys do,” according to Paul), and two large thermoses of coffee to go, and water bottles (“I make it better than the gas station,”) and little cute Post-It notes, wishing him a good day (“Think of last night if you get too cold out there, :-)” for the days when they had to go their separate ways.

  “Because packing two lunches is just as easy as packing one,” Paul always said as he headed to his winter job of salting roads in an outdated, non-digital diesel truck. Russ knew there was more to it than just practical convenience, and whatever it was, it made the inside of his chest grow all warm and fuzzy.