by Rose Shababy
“I believe it is a possible future,” he answered. “You must understand that the future is a constantly evolving creature, never the same from one moment to the next. And as far as the emotions you felt, it is part of my own ability.” He smiled again, this time the expression tinged with sadness. “It is like a thousand radios that cannot be shut off. I hear the thoughts and feelings of the people around me. Always. The best I can do is turn the sound down until it becomes background noise.”
“Like elevator music?” I asked.
He laughed a little. “Yes, something like that.”
“That sounds pretty shitty.” I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. “Do you see the future a lot?”
“That ability is different. It comes most often when I sleep. Once I wake I can examine the details of the vision in depth.” He shook his head. “Never with the power and depth of what you and I experienced, but I am still confident I can control it if it happens again.” He held his hand out again. “I will do my best to keep you safe.”
I hesitated a moment longer before I reached out a trembling hand, grasping his in mine. His visions didn’t flood my brain again, but felt the same strange, electric spark flowing between us just like the first time we touched. “What is that?” I whispered.
He shook his head a little. “I do not know. I have not experienced it before. I can only assume it is something singular to you.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Even among freaks I’m a freak.”
“Do not think on it,” he whispered, his eyes intent on mine and I flushed under his gaze. “You are perfect just as you are. Now close your eyes and concentrate.”
I shut my eyes. “What should I concentrate on?”
“Focus on the energy flowing between us. Think about the first time you saw me, the first time you touched me. What were you thinking about?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Think.”
I tried to recall the moment I saw him on the dance floor before he held out his hand for mine. I could see him dancing and remembered how I felt. “I saw you and I knew you were different. You looked so happy.” I almost choked on my jealousy again as my voice came out as a whisper. “The kind of happy that’s real. None of the fake shit I put on. I wanted what you had so badly.”
“You do have it. It has been lost in the clutter of your mind.”
I don’t know why, but I believed him and I struggled to hold back tears of relief that suddenly stung my eyes.
“What happened next?” His words distracted me, bringing me back into focus.
“Then you were there, right in front of me, holding out your hand.” I inhaled as the memory brought a rush of emotion. “I think maybe I believed if I touched you, some of that happiness would rub off onto me. So I put my hand in yours.”
“Yes.”
“When I touched you, I felt something. A current between us. Electricity,” I whispered. “All I could see, all I wanted to see was you. I wanted what you had so badly, and as I looked at you the current grew stronger. I wanted everything around us to go away. The people and the noise were so distracting.”
“That current, can you feel it now?”
The electricity flowed from my fingers to his and back again. I had no idea where it began or where it ended. “Yes, I feel it.”
“My gift allows me to help you focus your mind. Feel the flow between our fingers.”
“It’s strong.”
“Yes,” he whispered back to me. “Remember you wanted everything to go away. You used the energy flowing between us to freeze time. Your desire to block everything out pushed it outside of us and you touched the world.” As he whispered the last word, his tone filled with amazement. “Your thoughts and desires are the key. Focus on the world around us. You do not like the silence, do you?”
“No,” I shook my head. “It doesn’t feel right.”
“Why is it not right?”
“It’s too quiet. Unnatural.”
“Focus on what should be, ignore what is missing. Listen to the music and the voices and all the other sounds inside your head. See the world as it should be.”
I pictured the people dancing, voices shouting and laughing, the click of glasses and bottles and the practiced smiles of the bartenders as they served people, the music throbbing so loudly you could almost see it.
“Yes, Blue, that is wonderful. I can see it too. Your projections are strong.” Even though my eyes were closed, I knew he was smiling. Maybe I was a little telepathic as well. “Continue to focus on those images. At the same time, focus on the energy between us and try to push it outside of us. Propel it toward the world around us while you focus on those images. I will help you.”
I concentrated on the pulsing between our fingers, and imagined it growing. As I did, I felt it radiate outward. I could feel it grow like an invisible bubble around us.
“Good,” Kasey breathed. “Push it out further.”
I pushed on the bubble with my mind, my whole body zinging from the current. The bubble expanded for a moment, then contracted. I made a noise of frustration.
“Shh,” he calmed me. “Sometimes it is much easier to do these things on accident than it is on purpose. I will help you. Push again.”
I focused on the bubble, and pushed again with my mind. This time, I could feel Kasey in my head pushing with me. The bubble shot outward like a sonic boom, and the world suddenly shot into action.
I opened my eyes to see him smiling at me. People writhed around us and noise filled the air. I could smell the booze and the sweat, and I could feel the music again. I couldn’t hold back the smile that stretched across my face.
“That is the first genuine smile I have seen on your face all night.” Kasey squeezed my hand.
I felt my face heat up, but I didn’t drop my gaze.
“Are you ready to leave?” He pointed to the door.
“Yes.” I pulled my phone out of the little bag strapped to my wrist and shot off a quick text to Delilah. We walked toward the front door, snaking in between all the people. We made sure to avoid the beefcake who was still waving the twenty dollar bill at Julio.
“Good. I have a car around the corner waiting for us with someone you should meet. His name is Avery. Avery Anderson.”
BABY DON’T DO ME LIKE THAT
We walked outside and I took a deep breath. Even though the smell of exhaust filled the air, I felt like it refreshed my lungs, and I enjoyed the night for a moment. It was a new sensation, enjoying anything.
“This Avery, is he like you?”
“Yes and no. He is a telepath like me, although our abilities differ somewhat.”
“How so?” I asked as I tripped along after him in my stilettos.
“As I told you, I can act as a conduit for others, help them focus their mind as well as their ability. It is a gift that is unique to me. You also know that I have some psychic ability. I can see what is going to happen, although that gift is not as reliable. I do not choose what I see, nor can I control when it comes, and the picture is not always complete. Sometimes I have to study the visions for a while before I can interpret what I have seen. Perhaps we will find a more reliable seer than me, but until then I will have to do.” He raised his chin slightly, and there was no mistaking the proud lilt in his posture. “I saw you.”
“What did you see?”
“I saw us in that club together and saw what you were able to do.” He waved a hand dismissively. “There were a few other minor details, but that is the gist of it.”
I felt a shaft of anger. I knew he was lying, or at least not telling the whole truth. Liar, liar pants on fire, I thought.
Kasey threw his head back and laughed. “You are very funny.”
Anger flared at his intrusion into my head and I made no attempt to hold my tongue. “I told you to stop doing that. It’s spying, you rat-bastard!”
He smothered a grin. “I am sorry. Truly. It is as I said earlier. Your thoughts are s
o strong, even without the silence I am finding it difficult to shut them out.”
“Hmph.” I wondered if I could ever get used to someone knowing what I was thinking. I wanted to trust him, but how could I if he constantly invaded my thoughts? Earlier in the club he told me that I already trusted him. How could I when he was constantly digging around in my head? Did that mean he knew what was in my subconscious when I didn’t? The idea sparked an angry thought. How fucked up am I if some stranger knows me better than me?
“Blue.” I turned at the sound of my name to see that he had stopped walking and was watching me with a solemn expression.
“What?” I didn’t even try to contain my irritation, and it came out when I spoke.
“I really am sorry. There is nothing wrong with you. Please do not shut me out because I have shown poor self-control tonight.” He sighed and tugged on the brim of his fedora. “The energy that flowed between us has thrown me. I feel a connection to you that I have never experienced before. I do not understand it. It is strong and hard to control because it is so new to me. In truth, even in the loud club I was able to find your mind immediately. You speak to me like no other. I promise you that I will do all I can to block it out. Please bear with me and give me a little time.”
He looked so concerned that my irritation began to melt away. He could read minds and see the future, and he claimed that I was the reason time stood still. My curiosity raged and I couldn’t remember the last time I had any interest in anything at all. It didn’t matter if I trusted him. After the amazing things I’d just seen I still would have followed him.
But he was right. I wanted to trust him. I did trust him. I only wished I knew how it could be that I could trust a complete stranger.
I also couldn’t deny the attraction I felt for him. I looked at him for a moment, trying to see him as impartially as I could.
There wasn’t much about him that resembled the men I usually found myself with. His leanness fell to almost gaunt, and he definitely needed a haircut. His features were plain and angular, and I probably wouldn’t notice him if we passed each other on the street. As I studied him, he smiled and I knew immediately that was the difference. His wide smile and white teeth transformed him, his sharp cheekbones taking on a regal slant, and he became undeniably attractive. Irresistible. I found myself wanting to be near him. I wanted to know him. Had I ever wanted to know someone that way before? Save it for later, I told myself.
“So, you were telling me about this Avery guy?” I asked and continued walking.
“Yes, Avery. He can hear your thoughts as well, although he cannot go to the same depths that I can. I can look deep into the psyche, which is how I am able to help you direct your mind and amplify your ability. Anyone’s ability, if they have one. Avery can only see the surface, only see what you are thinking in the moment. He has no psychic ability either. However, he has strong telekinetic ability and he is able to … influence people.”
“Telekinetic. You mean, he moves things with his mind?”
“Yes.”
“And what do you mean he can influence people? Like mind control?” I’d have been lying if I said the idea didn’t scare me.
“We do not like to call it that.”
What else would you call it? I thought. “You can put lipstick on a pig,” I rolled my eyes. Even I could hear the scorn that laced my voice.
“Lipstick on a pig?”
“Yeah,” I sneered. “You can dress it up but it’s still a fucking pig.”
He lifted a brow and continued without comment on my outburst. “It is another aspect of Avery’s telepathy, the ability to project his thoughts to another person and convince them the thoughts are their own. Of course, he cannot make someone do something that would go against their intrinsic nature or conflict with their value system.”
“You put thoughts into my head inside the club, and then later when we made time start again I could feel you. I knew it was you in my head.”
“Yes, I can send thoughts to others.” He shook his head a little. “But I cannot manipulate thoughts, or make you think they are your own. Avery can implant thoughts and ideas, in a sense he can manipulate the human mind.”
“Doesn’t that seem wrong?”
“Any weapon is bad in the wrong hands.”
“Sure,” I still couldn’t get rid of the doubt in my voice, “but who gets to decide who has the wrong hands?”
“That is a very astute question. The only answer I can give you is that we are trying to do the right thing. I believe if you spend some time with us you will recognize that.”
“The right thing? That’s easy to say, but what does that really mean?”
He caught my hand in his to stop me, the streetlights casting ghost-like shadows across his face. “We have a gift, Blue.” His eyes were steady as they held my gaze. “We are all capable of amazing things. You, Avery, myself, the others. We have abilities that set us apart from everyone else. We have the opportunity to affect the world in a positive way.” He gave me a small, rueful smile. “You may think I am melodramatic or cliché, but it does not change reality. We always have a choice to make.”
I laughed. “The old ‘good versus evil’ dilemma. You’re right, that’s totally cliché.”
His jaw clenched a little and his whole face changed for a moment. He seemed harder and less kind. When he spoke, his accent was thicker than before. “I do not think so. There is right and there is wrong, and the distinction is not hard to make.”
I felt my lips purse. “Maybe, but I don’t think everyone is as idealistic as you. Sometimes, life bites you in the ass and the lines start to blur.”
“Do you think that I have never suffered?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it at all. I only know that I’ve seen a lot of shit, and I don’t know if I believe anyone is worth risking my ass for.” I tried to yank my hand from his, but he held on tighter and I glared at him. “I sure as fuck know that no one has ever risked anything for me.”
“You do not have to believe in the goodness of others,” he answered. The night air picked up, blowing across my bare skin and I shivered, although I was uncertain if I shivered from the breeze or the hard look in his eyes and the severe tone of his voice as he continued. “Your own actions are all that matter. What kind of person do you want to be?”
“Let go of me,” I spat at him from between clenched teeth. He didn’t, instead he gripped my hand tighter. His eyes closed and his face seemed to relax and the next thing I knew I could feel him inside my head.
You are scared because you have never felt a real connection to another human being. You never met your father, and you cannot remember a time when your mother was not hateful.
“I think you mean drunk,” I snarled. “Get out of my head.”
He didn’t. She would not even acknowledge you as her own. When you were in public together she pretended she was your older sister. I felt my cheeks blaze with shame as he dug up my darkest secrets as easily as fishing incriminating evidence out of a trashcan. If you refused to play her games she would scream at you and lock you in your room, sometimes for days with only water. You learned quickly to hide food for such occasions. I saw myself glancing at my bedroom door fearfully as I pulled an old wrinkled apple from behind my dresser and took several small bites before squirreling it away back in its original hiding place.
Her drinking increased until you could not remember what she was like sober. You were six years old the first time she did not come home until long after you were asleep. I saw the image of my six-year-old self, huddled under a thin blanket on a mattress on the floor, and I remembered how scared I had been that night.
I squeezed my eyes shut as each shameful memory from my past was accompanied by matching images, vivid and bright like the pictures on a movie screen and I fought harder to get away from him so I wouldn’t have to relive the moments I’d struggled my whole life to forget.
It happened often after that,
and when she did come home, she rarely came alone. I saw a slightly older me peeking through the crack in my bedroom door, watching as my mother, drunk and laughing, led a man into her bedroom across the hall from mine. I saw his face clearly for a moment and then it morphed into another, and then another as a parade of men made their way through the same hallway, accompanied each time by an image of my face peeking through the crack of the same bedroom door, growing older and older each time.
Her cruelty grew with you as she watched you become a beautiful young woman. I saw myself standing in the kitchen as my mother screamed at me. “You’re worthless,” she spat, staring at me through mean, bloodshot eyes as she filled a mug with half coffee and half whiskey. “Ungrateful and pathetic and stupid. Why the hell I ever kept you, I don’t know.”
She was wrong. There was a tinge of sympathy to his words and it made me angry. You have a brilliant mind, Blue. You need only to believe in yourself.
The last thing I wanted was for him to feel sorry for me. “Get your hands off me,” I snarled, still fighting, unsuccessfully, to pull from his grasp. I was amazed at his strength as he held fast and continued.
She was especially cruel when her men paid more attention to you than her. I know how many came to your room when she was sleeping. I pushed back at Kasey with my mind as the image of the first man who snuck into my room filled my mind. I saw the man kneel down next to me on the floor, reaching out a hand to stroke my cheek. “So pretty,” he said, his eyes filled with lust. “And so young,” he finished as his hand crept beneath the blanket.
“Stop it!” I gasped, still pushing against Kasey, and I sagged with relief as the image retreated. For a moment I thought he would let go of me and stop his invasion, but then he continued.
Then came the day you finally left home.
I watched as one of my mother’s nasty men felt me up in our kitchen as I tried to get a glass of water. My mother walked into the room.
She started screaming the moment she realized what was going on.
“Dirty little slut!” she screeched and marched across the room. Lifting a hand, she slapped me as hard as she could. “I always knew you’d try to take what’s mine.”