From Whence I Came

It's probably time to tell you, as this is chapter 40, that there are 'only' 47 chapters in this story. That's right, you wonderful, loyal reader, we're coming down the home stretch. Don't worry though, Church and Shawn and Bem and all the rest aren't going anywhere. More information to follow in the upcoming chapter intro's.

Now, to this chapter. It looks like Zeke is back to cause more trouble. Let's have a look.

I hope you enjoy this installment! Drop me a line if you want. I'd be happy to hear from you.

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Crown Vic to a Parallel World: From Whence I Came The second installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips

40 Ezekiel the Nuisance and Mary the Powerful

It was late in the evening when we drove into Alden Park. Other than Shawn's meat crisis, it had been a very nice day, and I was looking forward to a relaxing evening. As I turned the corner onto Arlington Avenue, I saw flashing red and blue lights in the middle of the block. Joe's house was in the middle of the block. This seemed a troubling coincidence, but no more than that.

I couldn't imagine any reason for flashing lights at Joe's house. I knew that there were some elderly people on the street. I thought maybe one of them died or needed an ambulance. When we got closer, I saw that the center of official attention was Joe's house. "FUCK!" I shouted and beat my fist against the steering wheel in a mini fit.

I parked where there was room and took inventory of the scene from the driver's seat of the Town Car. There were three police cruisers, an ambulance, a detective's sedan, and a tow truck taking up space on either side of the road and blocking most of the view of Joe's house and front yard. Andy got the passenger door open and sprinted from the car before I'd made up my mind how worried I was. I assumed the boy was concerned for his father.

I was concerned, but not to the same level. It was barely possible someone had been seriously injured, but the lack of fire trucks and the way the paramedics seemed to loiter near their rig, gave me the impression that whatever happened wasn't too serious. Shawn and I headed to the house with deliberate speed, but without panic.

A very young and rather short, uniformed cop stopped us as we got near the property. He was so youthful, that if it had been late-October, I would have suspected he was trick-or-treating as a police officer. "What's your business here?" He demanded in a voice I expected would crack if he raised it.

I spoke first and introduced myself. I wasn't sure whether to use the name on my license or my old name for the cop. I opted for using my official name as I was speaking to an official. "I'm Church Summas, Joe's brother. I'm staying here, visiting Joe."

I was about to introduce Shawn when the cop demanded his identity directly from him. "Who are you then?"

"I'm his husband." Shawn answered boldly.

The cop nodded and managed to look both incredulous and disinterested. "Uh huh. Do you have any identification?" We showed our falsified licenses to the cop's dissatisfaction. "Neither of your names are `Philips.'" He objected.

I gritted my teeth and fought the urge to snarl at the cop. I forced myself to reason with him but couldn't keep all the frustration out of my voice. "Officer, when we married, I took Shawn's name as my own. You'll notice my middle initial is `P.' My unmarried name was Church Philips. My married name is Church Philips Summas. Whatever name you want to use, I'm Joseph Philips' brother, Mary Thompson's brother, there's that nasty married last name thing again, and I have been staying here for almost two weeks. Are you going to let us through, or tell us what's going on, or keep us here to play twenty goddamned questions?"

As a way of answering me, the cop radioed the detective in charge of the scene, Detective Mercer. The cop was instructed to let us through. Shawn and I left the child cop on guard duty and walked toward the house. On the way, and as we rounded the back of the ambulance that was parked the wrong way to the curb, we saw the root of the trouble. One uniformed cop, one uniformed paramedic, and one plain-clothed detective were gathered around Zeke, who was sitting on the broad, flat step that made up the back bumper of the ambulance. He screamed when he saw Shawn and me and tried to take cover inside the back of the vehicle.

"THOSE TWO," he squealed as he pointed and thrashed his way into the ambulance, "MONSTERS ALL OF THEM! KEEP THEM AWAY FROM ME!" The uniformed cop restrained Zeke and dragged him from the ambulance toward one of the patrol cruisers.

"It fucking had to be him, didn't it?" I asked no one and shook my head in disgust. Shawn and I turned off the sidewalk to go up the front walk toward the front door. To the right of the walk, Zeke's SUV was parked haphazardly on Joe's front lawn. The driver's door hung open and the interior lights were busy killing the battery.

Another uniformed cop, still young but obviously old enough to be a real cop, stood sentry at the front door. He made us wait while he checked with the detective again, then he moved aside to let us in. I scanned the room as I entered to take stock of the scene. Joe, Mary, Bem, and the twins all sat around the dining room table. Andy stood near his father's chair while Joe explained the situation in low tones. The detective in charge stood in the living room, near the bay window, and mumbled into a cell phone.

The hulking bear of a police detective was familiar and the sight of him connected his name to a couple memories. His full name was Tim Mercer. He was a year behind me in High School. He was also the cop who'd called me when my parents were killed. Tim hung up the phone and offered his hand when Shawn and I approached. "Hi Church; long time." He shook with both of us and drew us deeper into the far corner of the room.

I didn't understand how Tim had recognized me with a split-second glance. Most people needed at least a hard look. `Maybe it's a cop thing.' I thought. "Hi Tim. What the hell is going on?" I asked.

"That's what we'd like to know. Want to give me your version?"

I couldn't imagine what Tim thought that I could tell him. "You know more than me. I just got here. Is everyone alright?"

Tim stroked his lantern jaw with a right hand the size and shape of a shovel blade. "Yeah, the only one who seems damaged is Ezekiel, Mary's soon to be ex-husband, so I'm told. I need some background before I'm gonna be able to figure this out."

I guessed that Tim wasn't going to tell me anything until I explained the relationships. He seemed to want to hear it from someone who wasn't on the scene when whatever happened, happened. I didn't see how telling him the framework of our interactions with Zeke over the last week or so could do any harm, but I decided to qualify what I was about to say with some caution. "Alright, I'll give you the whole rundown, but it's off the record until you tell me how you'll use it. OK?"

Tim shrugged a deep, care-worn shrug. "Fine with me. What about this guy," he jerked a thumb at Shawn, "friend of yours? Can he keep his mouth shut?"

I introduced them. "Shawn, Tim, Tim, Shawn. Shawn is my husband; we're married."

"You're what?" Tim balked at my statement and stared his surprised eyes at me.

I didn't want the detective to be focused on shit that didn't matter, so I gave him some of the snarl that I'd held back from the cop outside. "You heard me, Tim. Get over it and pay attention." I went right into my story. "Two Saturday's ago, I was at my sister's house, and I saw Zeke slap her in a fit of drunken anger."

Tim opened his mouth to speak but I didn't give him the chance. I held my hands up in front of me, my palms toward Tim, to show innocence. "I didn't touch him. All I did was bring Mary and her kids here to stay until she decided how to handle the situation."

Tim closed his mouth, and I dropped my hands. I went on with my story. "The next day she decided she wants a divorce. Joe drew up the papers. That Tuesday, a week ago today, Joe and I went to see Zeke to get him to sign. He refused until we offered him a pile of money. Shawn and I saw him again on Thursday to deliver a cashier's check. He tried to extort more, and I may have threatened him, but I never touched him. That's it."

"What's `a pile of money?'" Tim asked and rubbed his jaw some more.

"A quarter million dollars. He accepted it and signed a receipt. Joe has the receipt."

Tim made a whistling `whew' noise when I mentioned the amount. "Where did the money come from? That's a big nut."

I wrapped a grateful arm around my husband and explained. "Shawn gave it to me. We're in town to transfer some investments from his elderly and very wealthy uncle to his control. Everything was done through Abbey Wealth Management. Joe made the initial contact."

With that fact revealed, I felt that I'd shared enough background to warrant an explanation of what the fuck was going on and said as much. "Now, tell me what happened here."

"Ugh." Tim grunted and ran his shovel hand through his thinning hair. "The story we pieced together is this. Ezekiel came over, parked his SUV on the front lawn, and started banging on the door and raving. The little guy over there...Ben? He ran around from the back of the house to get Ezekiel to go away. Ezekiel had a taser. He zapped Ben who dropped in the yard, and started trying to kick the door in."

Tim shook his head with the realization he'd jumbled his syntax and corrected himself. "Ezekiel was trying to kick the door in, Ben was unconscious. It's here that the stories stop making sense."

Tim took a long breath and launched himself into an explanation of what he didn't understand. "Mary says she jerked the door open and pushed all her weight against the storm door, which hit Ezekiel, and tossed him back on the walk. That's fine, except if he was kicking the door in, how was he doing that through a closed storm door? Ezekiel says Mary opened the door and threw him down the walk with magic power."

I squinted at Tim and tilted my head. Tim waved off any comments I might make. He'd correctly read my expression as one of disbelief. "Yeah, I know, just let me finish. While Ezekiel was laying on the concrete trying to collect himself, Mary ran out and dragged Ben in the house. She closed and locked the door behind them. In the meantime, Joe calls the station."

Tim took a loud breath and went on with the story like telling it was wearing on his nerves. "A patrol car arrives a few minutes later to find Ezekiel injured and shouting what sounded like an exorcism at the house. Mary was trying to wake up that Ben guy, and Joe...I love this," the big detective shook his big head and glanced at his notes, "Joe was eating a sandwich, fried ham and American on white toast with ketchup and a big dill pickle on the side. The sandwich was an especially nice touch, `cause he must've made it AFTER he called the station."

"I got over here a half hour later to try to make head or tail of all this insanity, and I was still struggling when you showed up with your...uh...Shawn. Ezekiel also accused Ben of beating him up a few days ago, but beyond the injuries from today, just a few scrapes from the concrete, there isn't a mark on him. I called the church where he works a few minutes before you got here. They told me he's missed most of the last several days and when he was at work, he's been erratic and distracted." Tim finished his story, flipped his notes, and looked hard at me. "I'm guessing there's more you haven't told me. What's the rest of it?"

It was my turn to shrug acknowledgement that he was right. "OK, Tim, the rest of it is we found out Zeke stole two hundred thousand dollars of church money, blew it on gambling and women, and was trying to cover up. He was also into a bookie for another twenty. It was an argument over the missing money that drove the final wedge between him and Mary. That's the argument they were having when he hit her in front of me. We paid him for his signature on the divorce papers because we didn't want a scandal or some long court battle. We basically had him by the balls. He needed the money to cover his theft and to keep the bookie from smashing his kneecaps."

Tim looked around the room like he needed time to process what I'd told him. He flipped his notes again and returned his focus to me. "It sounds like he's been on edge for a long time trying to hide his crimes. You exposed him, I don't know how, and he snapped his cap. Mary divorcing him drove him the rest of the way to `nutville,' and he's transferred all the blame for his own actions onto your family and magic demons. Perfect."

Tim sighed a long, frustrated sigh. "Just once I'd like to show up on one of these scenes and find two rational, sober people who beat the shit out of each other for a difference of opinion, but who can still tell a coherent story. Oh well, so much for my fantasies."

Tim pocketed his notebook and pointed his pencil at me. "There are two problems if I write the report the way everything has been explained to me. One is the conflicting stories about how Ezekiel got heaped up on the concrete out there and two is why this Ben guy doesn't have any ID." Tim rubbed his jaw and considered for a minute. "Throwing Ezekiel down the walk isn't too much of a problem, I guess. Joe couldn't move fast enough to do it. It had to be Mary, though when I think about it, she doesn't have the weight behind her to do it."

He paused to ruminate again. "The only way it could have happened is the way she said. Maybe Ezekiel stumbled back when he was working on the door and the storm door shut just as Mary opened the inside door. It doesn't really matter. She obviously didn't throw him with magic."

"Right, that's crazy." I added.

"Yeah, well, consider the source." Tim said and dismissed Zeke's sanity with a disgusted tone of voice. "So that only leaves Ben. Who is he?"

I made up a big, steaming pile of horseshit and I did it fast. "He's alright." I said and filled in the details as I created them. "Mary helps him out once in a while. Desert Storm vet, he's got that stress disorder thing, drinks. He was out on a three-day drunk, lost his wallet or was robbed, bummed enough change to call Mary, and she picked him up for some dry out time."

Tim cocked his head and scowled like I was telling him a tale about a loser. I put my hand up against any possible objections and kept right on slinging shit at him. "When he's functional, he's a great guy, works hard, volunteers at the church, you know the drill. Every six months or a year, he goes off the rails and disappears for a few days to a few weeks. When he runs through his money, he calls Mary, she dries him out, and the cycle starts again." I stopped talking and used my mind to review the story that I'd told. I judged it to have just the right amount of unverifiable fact to ring true. I was extremely proud of myself for coming up with such a great story on no notice.

Tim stared for a moment like he was trying to measure the truth in what I'd just said. "Uh huh, sure." He nodded but didn't commit himself to believing or disbelieving me. "He's not injured other than two small burns from the taser electrodes, and he's not pressing charges. I'll leave him out of it. Tell Mary to get him a new license or ID or something. He can't be running around loose with nothing. We'll haul Ezekiel in and get him analyzed. If he comes up nuts, which I'm pretty sure he will, we'll have him temporarily committed and reach out to whatever family he has so they can make decisions for him."

I liked the idea of having Zeke locked up and out of circulation, at least until we left for Solum, but I worried about the potential implications of him being certified insane. "What's the risk of Mary's divorce being invalid if he's judged incompetent?"

"I dunno. We can ask your brother if he's done his sandwich."

We consulted Joe, who was done his sandwich. He offered some advice. "As long as Detective Mercer writes his report to say that Zeke was despondent because of the divorce, there's no reason his current state should reflect on previously signed documents. Anything after would certainly be questionable, but the divorce will stand."

Tim agreed to word his report carefully, took statements from all of us, released Zeke's SUV to the impound tow truck, and left, taking the rest of the flashing lights with him.

As the last set of flashing lights drove away, I expressed what I guessed was everyone's feelings. "I really hope we've seen the last of him."

A few moments later, we were all sitting around the dining room table recovering from what I hoped would be our last encounter with Zeke. I looked to Mary. She was huddled against Bem, both protecting and being protected by him. I addressed her across the table. "Can you show us what you did, Mary?"

"I didn't do anything." She insisted and sheltered behind Bem.

Her nervousness surprised me. Mary usually took things in stride. Then again, finding out you have magic power can unhinge even the most stoic of survivors, myself included. I tried to put her at ease by narrating what I assumed happened.

"I'm going to make a guess. Bem ran out the back when Zeke started pounding on the door. You watched through the front window as he came around the house. Zeke pointed something at him, and Bem tensed and went down. You didn't know what happened and were scared that Bem was seriously hurt. You opened the door and either looked at, or pointed at Zeke, who then flew backward. He landed on the walk and had his bell rung. You ran out to help Bem. Once he was back in the house, you shut and locked the door, and the police showed up a few minutes later. How's that? Am I close?"

"Almost perfect." Mary said softly without giving up her position of safety next to Bem. "What does it mean?"

"It means your power woke up, but you didn't know it until Zeke threatened Bem. You have telekinetic power like I do."

Mary craned her head around Bem to meet my eyes for the first time since the conversation started. "How? You didn't force my power like you did for Joe. Why would it happen now?"

"I'm guessing this is my fault again." I shook my head at myself and remembered the explanation Shawn had given me about how I'd jump-started Andy's power. "My magic has been compared to a bonfire. Anyone that gets near a bonfire can feel the heat. With me, it's not heat people pick up, but my magic overflow. We've been under the same roof for a week and a half. I guess that was enough. Your capacity has been slowly filling until it overflowed just like Joe's did. The difference is, yours took days to do it while Joe's took moments."

"That explains it." Bem said and captured Mary's attention away from me. "That's why we lasted so long...ahem...uh, never mind." He stopped talking and lowered his eyes to the table in front of him. Mary turned red.

I chuckled at Bem's newfound delicacy. "If you grow tact, I'm not going to know who you are." I teased.

I changed the subject, so I didn't add to Mary's discomfort. "Do you want to try something?" I asked her.

Mary seemed excited until she noticed that all the eyes in the room were on her. That killed the excitement and replaced it with nerves. "Why don't we take a walk?" I offered. "Just you and me, a quick walk around the block to clear your head."

Mary planted a kiss on Bem's cheek and rose from the table. "Let's go." She said and headed for the front door.

I stood up from the table, kissed the top of Shawn's head, and went out of the house a moment behind Mary. By that time, the sun was down, and the streetlights were on. I caught up to my sister on the front walk. She had paused to brood over the ruts in the grass where Zeke's SUV had been parked. "Don't think about it, Mary." I suggested. "It's over and done with. Close that chapter and move on."

Mary didn't acknowledge what I'd said with words or gestures, but as I moved down the walk toward the street, she fell in step with me and linked her left arm with my right. We hit the sidewalk and started our stroll.

We walked a long block in silence. "You want to talk about it?" I asked as we crossed the street and started the next one.

Mary tightened her arm against mine but didn't alter her pace. "Everything is changing so quickly. It's nerve wracking." She blurted and fell silent for several steps. "I saw my husband...my ex-husband, hurt Bem, and I wanted to destroy him. The feeling lasted only a split second, but in that second...thank God I don't have your white magic."

Mary stopped walking, mid-stride, like someone had hit her `pause' button. I stumbled at the sudden stop and almost dragged Mary with me. I turned my head to see what the matter was. Mary didn't raise her head, but her voice came out soft and tender.

"Bem made me realize that life can be fun, so much fun. He's witty and silly and kind and thoughtful. The girls just love him, and he loves them. He loves them, Church. Bem loves my girls. He's so good with them. He can be firm when he has to, or he can be as sweet as cotton candy. He can deal with them on their level. It's amazing to watch how easily he won them over. And...and...he's...I think he's won me over to." My sister turned shining, scared eyes to me in a desperate, pleading look. It was a look that begged for understanding.

"He is so passionate...Bem is." Mary explained as she took her eyes from my face and lowered them to the sidewalk in front of us. "The things he does...I never knew it could be like that. I don't mean just the physical pleasure, that's incredible. I mean the connection to another human being when we're both at our most vulnerable, naked and exposed to judgement. In that second when the rejection or acceptance of another person means everything, he makes me feel beautiful and desired. I've never felt more wanted than when I'm with him."

The way Mary talked about Bem, it was like she was narrating the way I felt about Shawn. I felt my love for my husband like it was a physical thing, like what he and I had done inside my mind was for real, like Shawn's heart really lived in my chest and mine lived in his.

I hoped, for Mary and Bem's sakes, that they could find the same type of love that I had for Shawn and that he had for me. I hoped that they could exchange their hearts like we had. I wondered if Mary could do for Bem what Shawn had done for me. Then I remembered that Mary was damaged goods like I was. I wondered if Bem could return the favor, if both damaged individuals could come together to form a union of healthy people.

Mary went on with her story and started walking again, but very slowly, a sauntering pace. "Bem starts so slowly, so slowly, a touch, a kiss, a look. He explores and admires every little piece of me, turns the heat up so slowly. With the first kiss he strikes a match, then he fuels that tiny flame to a wildfire. At the same time, he keeps me grounded, never lets it go too fast, he controls us both and makes the experience last and last and last. It's like the first time we danced, he held me close, and we moved like we had one mind. I'm learning from him, learning to enjoy myself. He's teaching me that sex isn't dirty and sex for pleasure isn't a sin. It's so much more though, he enjoys me. I'm better with him. Church, I think I love him and I'm so afraid."

Mary gripped my arm like she wanted to keep it for herself and stopped us again. "I'm afraid to ask him how he feels about me. What if he doesn't feel the same way, or if I'm not ready and this is a bad idea? If I don't ask, I might lose him. What should I do?" She sounded more scared than I thought it was possible for Mary.

In my mind, I heard Bem's cry of loneliness that he shared with me that early morning when he exposed his secret past to me. I thought that Mary could be the solution to that loneliness and that Bem could be the fiercely loyal man that she and her daughters needed in their lives. I offered my sister all the encouragement I could. "Tell him. You won't scare him away. Bem doesn't scare. I'll bet he'd be thrilled to hear you feel the way you do. He's a wonderful person and has been a great friend to me. I can't think of anyone better for you or anyone better for him."

"Do you think I'd be good for him?" Mary asked with a shake of her head, like she doubted what I said.

"You two compliment each other. When I saw you and him working in the kitchen, the first morning after you...uh...I mean...he spent the night in your room, it looked like you'd always been together. Shawn commented on it to."

"What about you?" Mary asked me. "Are you OK with this? I know you used to...and until recently...with him, you know. Am I stealing him?"

I started us walking again as I answered. "I'll miss being with him. You're finding out how talented he is in the art of pleasure. I'll miss that part of my relationship with him, but I didn't lie the other morning when I said that if you're happy, I'm happy. If Bem makes you happy, and you make him happy, who am I to say anything about it? The decision is yours to make with him. I don't even enter into it. Besides, I have Shawn. He's my partner for life, my everything."

I paused to look Mary in the face, so she'd know how serious I was. "Shawn is my everything, Mary. Bem was a fun special guest, but both of you deserve more than to just be a special guest in someone else's life. You should have your own partners, your own everything."

"He is talented," Mary said as she agreed with my assessment of Bem's lovemaking prowess, "`skilled' maybe is better. How many, do you think? It must be several, probably quite a few. How can I measure up? I only ever had Ezekiel, except for that time with poor Diego. Neither of them gave me a thimble of the ocean of pleasure Bem has given me." Mary sounded more worried about performance anxiety than about confessing her feelings to Bem.

I wondered how much I should tell her about Bem's sexual past. I reasoned that he should be the one to tell her whatever he wanted her to know. Then I reasoned that, if Bem just laid it all out for her, Mary would probably implode. I decided to give her a hint to prepare her for the eventual reveal.

I stopped us again to make sure I had Mary's full attention. "You need to understand how a few things you already know relate to each other. Bem is turning eighty in a few months. He's lived his entire life in a world where sex isn't stigmatized, accidental pregnancies don't happen, and STDs don't exist. He's also never been in a serious, long-term relationship."

Mary's face scrunched up while she thought about the implications of what I'd told her. She seemed to understand all at once and her mouth dropped open in shock. "MY GOD, it must be hundreds! Why did you tell me that, to torture me?"

I slipped my arm from inside hers and draped it over her shoulders in my standard comforting technique. "I hope you know me better than that, Mary. I told you so you would understand that quantity is just experience. Shawn calls sex without love `masturbation with a partner.' You have no reason to be threatened by that. Bem likes who you are; he told me so. Not only are you his physical type, but he likes your caring nature and the way you treat your daughters. Do you know why he volunteered to go with you when you needed to get more things from the house? He wanted to spend time with you, to know you better. He pursued you, Mary."

"Is that true?" She asked, her voice small and scared but with a tiny tinge of hope.

"Every word."

"I'm so HAPPY!" She shouted and surprised me with a kiss on the cheek.

We resumed our walk at a faster pace and reached the neighborhood park moments later. Mary had grown quiet after her expression of joy, but her step remained peppy. I genuinely hoped she and Bem would get together permanently. They brought out the best in each other.

I led Mary into the park and sat on a swing. She moved to sit next to me, but I stopped her. "I want to try something." I announced. "Stand behind me, about ten feet back, let me know when you're ready."

She walked between the swings and stood as I told her. "Now, focus on my lower back and push me forward with your mind."

"I can't," she objected, "what if I hurt you?"

I snickered to myself. `Not likely.' I thought. I spun my swing to face her, the chains crossed above me. "You won't hurt me, the worst you could do is shove me off the swing and we're surrounded by sand in a children's playground. Even if you did hurt me, Shawn is only three blocks away, he could be here in five minutes, and I'd be fixed in six." I picked my feet up and allowed the swing to correct itself. "Now, push me." I ordered.

Nothing happened for a few moments. "I don't know what to do." Mary huffed.

I didn't like the frustration in her voice. That wouldn't be conducive to learning. I tried to soothe her. "Just relax, this isn't a test. It's just you and me fooling around in the park. Look at my back, imagine a set of hands pushing it forward."

"Whose hands?"

"It doesn't matter. Your hands, my hands, cartoon hands, any hands you want. Let's do this one step at a time. Picture a pair of hands and arms, let me know when you have that."

"Got it." She said after a few seconds.

"Good, now, picture the arms with the elbows bent and the hands against my back. Don't push yet, just rest the hands against me."

I felt a very physical set of hands on my back and knew Mary was going to be successful. "Do you feel that?" I asked.

"I do." She said, her voice low with what I assumed was disbelief or amazement. "It's strange. It's like I can feel your back with my mind."

"That's good!" I praised to reinforce her. "That means you're getting it. Are you ready to try something now?"

"Ye-es." She answered and sounded anything but ready.

"OK, straighten the imaginary elbows and push." I paused for a split second before I decided to bait her. Besides the fact that she was a hitter, one of Mary's other primary characteristics was a competitive streak a mile wide. She couldn't resist a challenge. "And don't push like a girl." I added with a grin to myself.

In the next moment, I found myself flying through the air. I landed face down and sprawled out several yards from where I started. I scrambled up spitting sand and looked to see what incredible force had launched me off the swing. No one was there except Mary who ran over to check on me.

She brushed sand from my clothes with both hands while she apologized like what happened was her fault. "I'm so sorry, are you alright?" She cried.

I couldn't help but laugh. `Serves me right for underestimating her.' I thought. "I'm fine." I said and spat some sand on the ground. "Looks like you can use magic now. We'll have to figure out how to control it better, but it's damn sure working." I looked around the park and saw what I should have asked Mary to practice on before I put myself in front of an unknown force. A little way away from us, there were three ride-on animals mounted on big coil springs.

"Let's try something safer." I said and pointed at the plastic zebra, camel, and donkey. We lined up next to them and I gave Mary some fresh instructions. "Now, the hands thing I just told you to do is no good. I started with that because it's easy to use telekinesis as an extension of your physical body. That's a bad habit though. It limits what you can do because most people only think of themselves as having two hands to manipulate things. The reality is, your power is only limited by your magic capacity and your imagination. You need to work on making the objects do what you want them to do by force of will alone."

Mary shook her head at me. She didn't understand. I attempted to clarify. "Look at the zebra. Focus on it and see if you can feel it with your power. Don't try to move it, just imagine wrapping your will around it. You can see it. You know its shape and color. You can probably guess what it would feel like to your hands. Tell me what it feels like in your mind."

She looked at the plastic animal for a long time. I wanted to offer more advice, but I was afraid of putting pressure on her or making her nervous with my chatter. I held my tongue and waited. "OH!" She exclaimed. "I feel it. It's smooth and it has a rough spot behind its left ear where it's cracked. The handles are sticky from dirty little kid hands and the saddle is smoother than the rest from wear. I can feel all of it at once."

"Try to move it." I prompted.

The zebra bent hard against the ground and made a soft thud as it crashed into the sand. Mary yelped and released the stunned plastic animal. It flailed around like it was possessed and came to a wobbly rest. "Too much?" She asked with a self-conscious grin.

"Just a little." I smirked. I was glad she saw the humor in her overexertion. "Let's focus on small and simple. Just push the donkey back and let him go. Give him a nudge."

Mary focused on the animal, and it moved almost imperceptibly. "Good!" I congratulated. "Now you know how just a little bit of force feels. Push the thing around a little. Try different levels until you get comfortable. Using your power is like using an imaginary muscle. Have you ever picked up a heavy-looking suitcase only to find out it was empty? You probably jerked it up in the air and stumbled in surprise. This is the same thing. You need to figure out how much force-of-will to apply to each task."

Mary shoved the donkey all over the place. Sometimes she barely moved it and sometimes she bent it flat to the ground. Her smile grew as she practiced, and she started to get the hang of controlling the force. "This is fun." She giggled like a nervous little girl.

Once she was doing well, I added some complexity. "Let's try something else. Push the donkey back and hold it."

She complied. The animal moved back and stayed still. "Now, push the Zebra back to match." I instructed.

"I can't do two." She objected and released the donkey when she lost focus.

"Yes, you can." I insisted. "As smart as you are, you could do twenty, a hundred, maybe a thousand. Remember, you're not limited by your physical being. If you can imagine it, you can make it happen." As I encouraged Mary, I realized that I probably sounded like a motivational speaker making a college commencement speech.

"Can you do two?" Mary challenged me.

I backed a few feet and turned to face all the playground equipment. I planned to show off a little, but only as encouragement. "Before I show you this, remember, I've been practicing for six years." In the next instant, the swings swung, the see-saws rocked, the small carousel spun, and each of the spring-mounted animals rocked independently. I turned my back on the equipment and kept it all moving while I spoke to Mary. "If I can do it, you can. It only takes time and practice."

"THAT'S...SO...COOL!" Mary punched me in the chest with each word. "You think I'll be able to do all that to?"

"You'll do even more." I said with a cough brought on by Mary's physically aggressive enthusiasm. I let the playground equipment coast to a stop.

Mary wasn't done being physical. She jumped against me and hugged me. "I'm so excited to get to the new world. It must be incredible!"

I worried about her level of enthusiasm and tried to temper her expectations. "It's not a fantasy land. There will still be all the mundane tasks of life. It can be fun, and it will definitely be amazing, but I don't want you to get carried away." I had some concern that she would think of Solum as a land of constant wonder. Sometimes it was, especially to the uninitiated, but it wasn't always. I realized that I had no way to moderate expectations. We were only four days away from leaving. Whatever impression everyone had, they were likely going to keep until they saw Solum in person.

Mary said she understood, but I didn't believe her. She went back to playing around with the spring animals and eventually had all three of them going at once. When she was proficient with that, I had her try lifting some stones. I got her to hover them and move them around, that kind of thing. She mastered every task like a natural.

I was having so much fun getting to teach someone else, I lost track of how long we were at the park. When I realized a lot of time had gone by, I got concerned we'd been out too long, especially since we'd said we were only going to walk around the block.

"Alright, time to go home." I announced and felt like I was ruining Mary's fun.

"Thanks, Church," Mary whacked my upper arm as we strolled away from the park, "for the advice, and the magic tips, and everything."

"Sure." I hugged her sideways as we walked. "On the magic subject, get a handful of small stones, or marbles, or coins, or something all the same size and weight. Work on keeping one in the air as long as you can. Try to keep it up when you're doing other things. Once you master that, add a second, and a third, until you have five or six going at once. When you get good at that, add motion. That exercise sounds simple, but it takes tons of concentration and will really sharpen you up. I still do it sometimes when I feel like I'm getting sloppy."

"Oh, and about Bem," I continued giving advice, "tell him everything. You'll be glad you did."

Mary leaned into me and matched my pace toward Joe's. "I'm glad you came back. I'm grateful for everything that's happened since you got here. I have a real chance at happiness now and my girls don't have to grow up thinking they're related to that bastard I married. I also got my brother back."

"I'm happy I could help."

"How am I ever going to thank Shawn?" Mary asked with her voice low and worried. "He handed over all that money without a second thought. When Joe was making up those promissory notes, Shawn told him to `spend whatever it takes.' Why did he do that?"

"He did it because you're important to me, and I'm important to him, so you're important to him. Shawn would have spent ten times that, a hundred times that without batting an eye if that's what Zeke demanded and there was no other way. His father is a wealth manager who focused on making money at the expense of his family's happiness. Shawn learned that money is the least important thing. Life is about people, not things. We have a huge fortune between us, literally billions of credits, and we live in a studio apartment. The money, the status, it doesn't matter, only the people do."

"What can I do for him?" She asked.

I searched my mind and found an answer right on the surface. "Reinforce his decision. When we get to Solum, embrace it. I'm not telling you to blindly accept everything that comes but don't try to make it into Earth. If you're happy, he'll know he made the right decision and that will be all the thanks he could ever want. Trying to pay him back would just embarrass him."

"I'll do it." She said with firm resolve and whacked my arm again. "You'll be there to remind me, right?"

"Sure, Mary. You know, I feel like we're a family again...or maybe like we never were before. I want to stay close to you and Joe, watch your kids grow up and see who they become. I want to be a real brother to you and know what it's like to have a real sister."

"That sounds great. I'm looking forward to it." She slipped her arm in mine again and pulled us together.