You ever wish you could read someone's mind? You ever wish you could read everyone's mind? What if you could read everyone's mind but you couldn't stop? That would be awful, or would it? Let's see.
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Crown Vic to a Parallel World: Stolen Love The third and final installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips
22
Sleep and the Second Miracle
When the sun crested the horizon and turned the cloudless sky the pale blue of early morning, Primis blinked his eyes open. He looked around like he didn't understand where he was. He slid the car door open and clambered out. He stretched and yawned and scratched his belly and looked in every direction, including ours. While he was still facing us, he unfastened his pants, fished his dick out, and pissed on the ground. He shook off, pulled on it once for good measure, and put it away.
He wiped his hands on his pants and took his phone from his back pocket. He touched the screen a couple times, held it out flat, and turned himself until the display did what he wanted it to do. I assumed he was using the compass app to point the way back to Oppidum. He pointed his arm to the east, got in the car and set off in that direction.
I figured that was that, and I reached for the Vic's ignition to start the car. Bem grabbed my hand. "Wait." He hissed like Primis might hear him if he spoke normally. "Let him get a little farther away."
Primis' car accelerated toward the rising sun. I saw his arm reach up to fold the visor down against the glare. I waited until he had gotten far enough away that he was just a speck moving in the distance and asked Bem for permission to go. He gave it with a nod, and I started the Vic. I pointed us toward the Demon's Citadel and drove us there with deliberate speed. I circled around behind the estate, backed the car into the garage, and shut it off.
The silence deafened and no one moved. "Now what?" I asked the windshield.
"Now you go to bed." Bem said, dryly, like it was just that simple.
"I can't." I whispered without looking at anyone.
The back door of the car popped open. The car rocked on its springs as Vulp climbed out and shut the door behind him. He exited the garage without a word and left Bem and I alone. "Tell me what's wrong." Bem instructed with a tired, strained voice. I could tell he just wanted to be asleep. I knew he cared about me and wanted to help but his exhaustion was leaking through.
I tried to explain myself to the man who I knew was my friend. "I can't go to bed...not in my place...our place. I can't sleep in that bed alone. I'm doing my best. I'm doing all I know how to do, but I can't do that. I can't go in there and see him missing; see him and smell him and feel his presence and know I can't have him. I can't..."
I stopped talking as the dread and fear started to overwhelm my control. I was too exhausted to maintain for much longer. I was holding together, but at any second the dam would burst and the nightmare I was trapped in would wash away the delicate structure of my calm facade.
Bem gripped my knee again, but I didn't turn to look at him. I was ashamed of my fragility. I wanted to be the big, tough guy I pretended to be, but I wasn't. Without Shawn I was nothing, less than nothing, a ghost, barely the memory of a person. There wasn't even enough of me, enough force-of-will to find a place to sleep. All there was, was a hole, a void, a vacuum where there should have been a man, and a knotted mess of emotion where there should have been strength.
"Big Guy..." Bem sounded like he was begging me for something. I guessed he was pleading with me to keep it together long enough for him to get away from me. I guessed he was pleading with me to last long enough for him to be able to get to his own bed, to his own wife, to his own reason for being, long enough to leave me to my consuming grief. At least that way, he could rest and whatever I did was my problem. I understood. I didn't want to drag him into the vortex with me, but he was the one that said I needed to go to bed, and I didn't see how I could.
Bem got out of the car. I assumed he was going to go away and leave me alone to live the nightmare by myself. I didn't blame him. It was the best thing he could do for himself, the smartest thing. He didn't leave, though. Instead, he came around to my side of the car and opened the door. "Come with me." He said to the side of my face.
"I told you I can't." I whispered.
"Big Guy," he pleaded, "I just want to..."
I cut him off with a shout. "I TOLD YOU I CAN'T!"
I hadn't looked at him yet. I still faced the windshield and gripped the wheel like I wanted to tear it from the column. Bem didn't say another word. He lingered for a moment, then walked away. In his absence, I felt some small relief. At least I wouldn't have to go to my apartment. Even if I stayed where I was, that was far better than having to go inside, to my place...our place.
An imposing shadow replaced Bem at the open driver's door. A large hand rested on my left shoulder and another large hand wrapped over my left hand that gripped the wheel. Paul leaned close and spoke to the side of my face. "Church, you need sleep. Come...come with me, to the apartment you gave me. You sleep there. Please. I'm tired, but I can't rest until you do. I'm responsible for you."
With a strong arm and a soft voice, he coaxed me from the car, through the house, and to his apartment. The wide sofa in his living room was already made up with a pillow, sheets, and a blanket. He stopped me near it.
"Cellarius helped me." Paul explained. "He made the couch up and brought your toothbrush and clothes for when you wake. We put them in the closet there." He pointed at the coat closet just inside the apartment door. "Cellarius said you don't wear pajamas, usually just underwear. That's fine with me, no embarrassment. Will you take the couch here or the bed upstairs?" Paul asked.
"H-here." I stammered.
"Fine." Paul replied, his voice low in a quiet, nighttime tone. "Get undressed and I'll tuck you in."
I felt a little silly doing what he said, but I was too tired and too emotional to argue. I stripped to my briefs and gave my clothes and heels to Paul. He took the stuff and dropped it in a heap in the corridor outside the apartment. "Cellarius said he would see to your things." Paul explained on his way back to the sofa.
He pulled the top sheet and blanket back and held them for me to lay down. I spread my body on the white sheet that had been fitted around the couch cushions and rested my head on the pillow. Paul pulled the sheet and blanket up to my chin and called out to Sven to lower the lights in the room and block the light coming through the simulated windows. The room darkened until the priest was barely visible as he stood near where I lay. He took a couple steps and lowered his large body into the overstuffed chair that was just beyond my head. I raised myself on my arm to object, but he spoke before I had a chance too.
"I'm just going to sit here until you're asleep. I'm afraid if I go to bed, you'll lay there and brood instead of sleeping. Put that head down and close those eyes. I'm tired too, and I can't go to bed until you're asleep."
I laid my head down and shut my eyes. My body seemed to melt into the couch cushions and my overwrought mind finally settled to a stop. Having Paul there made me feel much better. Not that he could protect me from the demons that terrorized my consciousness, but it felt good having someone to watch over me. I slept almost immediately.
I slept like I was dead. My body and my tortured mind too tired to stir or to dream. I woke rested and felt much better. I was still upset about Shawn, still worried and scared, but I felt more in control. I felt like I had the strength to deal with what I had to deal with.
I pawed around for my phone and found it on the arm of the couch. As I reached for it, my eyes drifted to the chair just beyond my head. Paul was still in it, his arms rested on the arms of the chair, his body slouched back, and his head lolled to his right as he breathed the deep, slow breaths of sleep.
Poor old man.' I thought. He's gonna be stiff as a board when he wakes up. I'll have to get Met to work on him if he needs it.'
I checked my phone and saw that it was one in the morning, the following day. I had to think about what that meant. My phone told me it was Thursday. I tracked the days back to figure out how they'd passed.
I'd been to Earth on Monday, and Shawn was taken overnight between Monday and Tuesday. I spent Tuesday showing Paul around and brooding. Primis showed up very early Wednesday morning. We'd spent a few hours with him and sent him on his way at sunrise on Wednesday. After that, I went back to the house and laid down and slept for something like seventeen hours, all through the day on Wednesday and into the night. That meant it was Thursday morning.
I assumed things had happened, but none had been monumental enough to wake me over. That meant Shawn wasn't back, we likely hadn't heard from the kidnappers, and Primis hadn't had his compulsion released yet. As it was very early in the morning, I decided the best thing I could do was get ready to face the day. That way, I'd be on hand for whatever came.
I got my clothes from the coat closet and went upstairs to Paul's master bath to shower and dress. I used my clear head, my well-rested brain, and my time in the shower to think about things. I thought about everything that had happened since Cellarius woke me up Tuesday morning to tell me Shawn's plane was down. I came to a few conclusions. The first was, I should have read Verpa's letters sooner.
It was tough to reproach myself for that one. Based on the man's past behavior towards everyone I cared about, I really had no reason to give a fuck about anything he could have to tell me or ask of me. Unfortunately for me and for Shawn and everyone else involved, Verpa reached out for help, and I ignored him. The fact that I'd ignored him, presumably led directly to the desperation that made Verpa think that allowing Shawn to be kidnapped for money was an acceptable idea.
I berated myself over my decision to ignore Verpa's letters. You should have at least opened one.' I thought. Maybe called the useless fucker to see what he really wanted.' I knew that if Shawn had been there and knew what I was thinking, he would have been upset with me. I could hear him saying, `people make their own decisions. You don't own their bad choices.' He wouldn't have been wrong, but that was small comfort when I was missing him.
The second thing I thought about was Bem's assertion that the fact that Shawn's father was involved was good news.' I was forced to agree with my friend's assessment. It was both logical and likely that with Shawn's father involved, Shawn was far safer. The bad guys' would be less likely to...do anything to Shawn.
Verpa Summas was a petty, small man full of self-interest and little else. Everything he did was for his own aggrandizement. He was still a person though. I assumed he had some feeling for a son he'd helped bring into the world. What Primis had said, the quote he'd attributed to Verpa when he said, `I can't believe I let them kidnap my son for money,' gave me hope. It showed that all affection wasn't dead inside the man. It made sense that this Domus man would also see Verpa's devotion to his son as a liability and that would make him less likely to...hurt Shawn.
I reasoned that bad people, gangsters, crime bosses, and the like, are pragmatic people. They are logical people that don't let morals get in the way of their logic. Even from the standpoint of pure logic, Domus would realize that `hurting' Shawn would mean he would have to do the same to Verpa, or he'd risk Verpa reporting on him. If what Primis had said was true, and I had no reason to think it wasn't, Verpa was in financial trouble. He'd likely be willing to do almost anything to avoid ruin and prison time.
The word `almost' was a potent modifier. I was fairly certain that the man who Lenis once loved must have some redeeming qualities. He must have some basic decency that would prevent him from allowing Shawn to be hurt. Domus would know that, and that knowledge would tie his hands just enough to keep my husband safe until we could rescue him.
With that small comfort, I let myself boil under the hot water of the blasting shower heads. I hoped my mind would give me some peace while I finished my shower, but I was still too wound up to be at peace. Since I'd already examined Bem's words and the projected logic of Verpa and the gangster Domus, my thoughts turned to the other encounter I'd had before I slept, that of my brother-in-law.
I thought of Primis, the hysterical man. The first and only time I met him, prior to his arrival out of the darkness of the Pravus Plains, he'd said nothing. At the time, I assumed that was because he was his father's son and agreed with everything his father said and did. When I examined the memory of that meeting, through the lens of what I'd learned about my brother-in-law's personality, I realized that his timidity is what had stopped his speech that day. He didn't necessarily agree with his father, he just lacked the courage to disagree with him.
I wondered what Primis was really like. I wondered if he would come to visit with us and stay for a while. I wondered if he and Shawn could get along. I wondered if I could help him, if the extended family that I'd surrounded myself with, could help him be less hysterical.
Primis seemed a smart, articulate man. He was a partner in Verpa's wealth management firm. That fact by itself wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement, but it meant that he probably knew something. He'd even said that his father refused to take his advice and that is what led to some of the `reverses' Verpa had experienced.
Maybe him and Lenis would make a good team.' I thought. Why did he stay with his father instead of leaving with his mother? Why did he never come to us? Why stay on the sinking ship?' I tried to reason that out and got nowhere. I assumed Primis had some affection for the man who'd named him Primis' or first' and who apparently doted on him since he was born. "Either that, or it's pity." I said aloud and leaned under the water to rinse my long hair.
I raised my hands to rub the shampoo from my shoulder-length hair and felt some pain in my right palm. I raised the hand to my face to see what was wrong with it and was greeted by an angry red line that ran from between my middle and ring finger to the heel of my hand. I realized that I'd been gripping my bracelet hard enough to hurt my hand. `Have to get Shawn to fix that.' I thought automatically before I realized if Shawn was around to fix it, I wouldn't have been gripping my bracelet at all.
"I miss you, love." I said to the shower stall. "I never realized how little there is of me when you're not around. It's like I don't exist until you complete me."
Come home soon,' I thought to him. That made me think of the John Sebastian song, Darling Be Home Soon.' I started singing The Lovin' Spoonful version of the tune while I finished my shower. Joe Cocker performed his own version, but his coarse rendition seemed inappropriate when applied to the deep longing I felt for Shawn.
"Darling be home soon..." I sang the first line and then a lump of sadness filled my throat and strangled my voice before I couldn't go on. I stuck my face under the streaming water to rinse the tears away, and I shut the shower off. "He'll be home soon," I told myself, "and everything will be fine and we'll make it better than it ever was. Meantime, keep it together. Gotta keep it together for him and be ready to do whatever needs to be done."
I got out of the shower and dried off. I brushed my hair in the mirrored wall and dressed in the clothes Cellarius had picked for me. I wore a silver shirt with a splash of pink streaked up the front and across the shoulders. The shirt was close fitting. It clung to my shoulders and back and tapered to my developed chest and flat stomach. The shirt ended right at the hip-rider waist of a pair of bright-purple pants that hugged my ass and thighs and fell loosely over my calves like narrow bell-bottoms. On my feet were purple dished heels with silver soles. The card in the pocket said the colors were from a Purple Firefish.
What I assumed Cellarius hadn't realized was the outfit he'd selected was one of those Andy referred to informally as his `cruising collection.' That collection was unique in that its purpose was to demand attention, specifically the attention of my husband.
Most of the clothes I wore fit me closely to show off my body. I'd worked hard to build and maintain my fitness, so it made sense to show it off to some degree. I usually demanded my clothes had enough room in them for me to move comfortably and to not feel too conspicuous. That fit, the more casual fit that I liked was included in want Andy termed his `everyday collection.'
The 'cruising collection,' were clothes that were cut to show my body off as much as possible. Those outfits were precisely tailored to my scanned measurements. Not only were they cut to fit me exactly, but they had been designed based on a questionnaire that Shawn had completed where he'd identified his favorite parts of my body. I had completed a similar questionnaire for the tailoring of Shawn's `cruising collection' clothes. The outfit Shawn had worn the night Paul arrived, the skin-tight Clownfish ensemble, was a part of that unique collection.
The difference between Shawn and me was that Shawn knew he had a great body and he wasn't shy about showing it off. Intellectually, I knew I had a good body, but my history of being overweight made me bashful about my body. I always hesitated to show it off.
When Andy had the reef collection clothes delivered, I'd tried the Firefish outfit on, but I'd never worn it because it embarrassed me. I'd planned to wear it sometime when I wanted to catch Shawn's eye, but the right moment had never come up. I certainly didn't plan to wear it when Shawn wasn't around.
I reasoned that I already had the thing on, and I had no intention of going to the closet in my...our apartment to change. That meant I was going to spend my day in those clothes. "I guess we're showing off today." I said to my reflection with a shrug. "That's fine."
When I was dressed and ready for the day, I went back to the living room and stood in front of Paul to wonder if I should wake him or leave him sleep. He made the decision for me by startling awake while I was still trying to decide. "Church!" He gasped, apparently surprised when he opened his eyes and saw me looming over him.
"Morning, Paul." I offered. "Sorry if I woke you."
Paul leaned forward to make room between him and the chair, so he could roll his head back and forth on his broad shoulders. He seemed to be trying to stretch a crink out of his neck. `No wonder with the way he was sleeping.' I thought. "Why didn't you go to bed?" I asked him.
He rocked his head back and forth. The motion set off a series of dull snaps that made him happy but made me wince at the sound. "Ah," he breathed and stretched his arms over his head and as far back as he could reach. "No harm done." He grunted as he lowered his arms.
"Why what?" He asked and cocked his head at me. His mind seemed to catch up to what I'd asked him, and he answered before I could repeat my question. "I didn't want to leave you alone. It wouldn't do for you to wake up alone, me peacefully sleeping upstairs, you down here by yourself...wouldn't do at all."
Such a sweet, lovely man.' I thought. He is the kindest man I know...that isn't Shawn.'
Paul struggled his bulk out of the chair and thumped his chest with his hands in a vigorous gesture of waking up to a new day. He took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled noisily through his mouth. He wiped a large hand over his face and grinned at me. "Nice of you, young man, to compare me to your dear husband, even if the comparison is in his favor. It's only right for you to think more highly of him than of me."
Paul's words confused me. "What are you talking about?" I asked.
He raised a hand at me in a vague gesture and dropped it to his side. "The compliment you just gave me. You said I was the kindest man you knew that wasn't Shawn. I said it was only fair that you think that way. You are not married to me after all." Paul's grin widened at his own humor.
I paused and thought hard. I had to think hard to remember if I'd spoken, or just thought my compliment at the man. My brain told me I'd just thought it. "SHIT!" I shouted and rubbed my face with both hands. I dropped my hands to tell Paul his power had activated, but it was clear he already knew.
"Oh my!" He flopped on the chair. "I believe I read your mind."
"You did." I admitted.
"Yes," he nodded and ran a hand through his hair, "so I did. Well, you warned me this would happen, and it seems it has. I'd like to say I was prepared for the eventuality, but that would be a lie of epic proportions." Paul looked to me for help, and I pondered how to explain what was happening to him. I didn't get a chance to explain because he kept jumping ahead.
"It seems I am a Second-Class Empath and that makes me a clairvoyant, a mind reader, like your nephew. I would like to speak with him, but you're probably right, if it's not quite two in the morning, he is likely sleeping." Paul slouched a little, then brightened up. "Yes, if you would send him a text message, then he will know to call you when he gets up."
"I...uh..." I started to say but I didn't get the chance to speak any actual words.
Paul jumped ahead again. "A fine idea. I'll get cleaned up and then we can eat and that will occupy at least some of the time before Andy rises." He jumped up and strode toward the stairs. He was half-way up when he stopped to glance back at me. "Don't worry, young man, I'm fine. Actually, I'm living my second miracle. Two in one week!" He smiled and clapped his hands once and went up the steps.
I dropped my head in my hands and swore in my palms. "I can't FUCKING believe it." I rubbed my face savagely, like I was trying to rub it off my skull. "Shawn," I said to the room, "I really need you here. I'm not good at this shit. Oh fuck...I guess I'll have some fucking coffee and wait for him to get done. FUCK!"
I went to the culinarian, programmed a cup of black coffee and texted Andy while I waited for it. I thought about calling him but stopped myself. I reasoned that Paul wasn't the one freaking out, I was, and apparently, I was doing it for no reason.
The machine dinged that the coffee was ready. I took it out and scalded my mouth when I tried to drink it too fast. "Fucking coffee!" I swore before I realized I was being unreasonable. "Just calm down." I told myself aloud. "Just calm the fuck down. We've been here before, several times. We just need to deal with it. It's fine. No problem. FUCK!"
I drank coffee and brooded until Paul came down the steps, clean and ready for the day. "Are you certain about these clothes, young man?" He asked as he reached the main floor of the apartment. He scrutinized my outfit and looked at his own. By comparison, the clothes he was wearing were positively sedate.
Paul wore a medium-blue long sleeve, buttoned-down shirt, and medium-blue pleated slacks. A black streak, like a quick stroke with a fat paint brush, ran from his left shoulder to his right ankle and stopped above his yellow dished heels. "The label says I'm a Regal Tang." Paul said as he referred to the card he'd found in one of the pockets of his outfit. "I feel a bit silly in these colors."
"I promise you're not being hazed." I tried to reassure him. "What you're wearing is the pinnacle of Solum fashion thanks to Andy and his company."
"As you say." Paul shrugged. He seemed to scrutinize me again. "What...uhm...your outfit today seems a bit...provocative perhaps."
I self-consciously ran a hand down my front and thought about how to explain the cruising collection to Paul. I'd forgotten about his newly activated power until he started snickering. Paul rubbed his big hands together and enjoyed his amusement.
"Yes, calling it the cruising collection' is very appropriate, young man. That outfit certainly shows you off. Why not? You worked hard for that physique; you should put it on display. I may not burn with desire at the sight of you, but I would be lying if I didn't admit to being impressed and a bit jealous. The only reason I cannot add intimidated' to that list is that I know you so well."
Paul's smile faded as he read me again. "I've embarrassed you. I am sorry. Don't think anything of it. You look well in those clothes, and I suppose I look well in these. We'll just be two friends who look well in our clothes and that's an end to it."
I thanked him for his understanding and sympathy. "Thanks, Paul."
Paul nodded without comment and moved to the kitchen. He started to scroll through the menu on the culinarian. As he did it, I wondered if he had his heart set on eating in his place or if he'd come to my kitchen with me and let me cook. I wanted to cook. Cooking would keep my mind busy and my hands busy and would take more time, which again presented itself as the biggest enemy.
Paul pressed the `sleep' button on the culinarian to put the machine on standby. "By all means, if you're willing to cook, I'm happy to keep you company." Paul said as he was obviously still reading my mind.
I opened my mouth to speak but stopped before I did. I didn't need to. Anything I had to say would appear in Paul's mind as I thought it up. There was no reason to utter it. I drained my coffee cup and set it in the wash cabinet and headed for the front door of Paul's place. He fell in step with me and stayed there until we got to my kitchen.
"Do you..." He started to ask as we entered the black and white room. He stopped short and shook his head. "No. That's fine. I understand. I'll just sit and let you do what you love."
Paul had jumped ahead again. I presumed he was going to ask me if I wanted help cooking, then read that I didn't and articulated my thoughts before I had a chance to fully form them.
I opened the menu on my specialty culinarian to pick the ingredients for breakfast. I selected a half-dozen brown eggs in their shells, potatoes and onions for home fries, and opened the meat menu. I was scrolling through the standard breakfast faire when my eyes tracked to the steak and chop category. I felt extra hungry that morning, probably from being asleep for twice the normal amount of time. I tried to remember the last time I'd eaten something but couldn't put my finger on it easily.
Paul remembered. "Last night's dinner." He announced to my back. "I'm rather ravenous this morning as well. Steak and eggs sounds excellent. Maybe a New York strip, or a sirloin...oooohhhh yes, a bone-in pork chop sounds even better. Medium please and I'll have the eggs over medium."
Paul's constant mind reading was more exasperating than when Andy did it because I knew he couldn't stop it. Usually, when I got sick of my nephew reading my thoughts, I filled my mind with disturbing things to get him to stop. I had a couple `go to' memories that would usually stop him cold.
One go to' was the memory of the nauseating funk that would waft across the construction site when the sewage pump truck, known mockingly as the honey dipper,' would come to clean the portable toilets. The other was the image of a soaking wet and mangled dead rabbit I'd once pulled from a strainer in a clogged industrial cooling system. Either memory would usually elicit a gag and a verbal protest from Andy, and would make him shut his power down.
I knew that Paul couldn't help it, but that didn't make his constant jumping ahead any less annoying. I wished I understood enough about the powers of an empath to help Paul with his magic, but as my powers were physical, it didn't really translate. I also assumed Paul's system was so flooded with magic energy, he'd be hard pressed to deactivate his power no matter how badly he wanted too.
It's probably better he leave it engaged for now.' I reasoned. I'd like to think that will drain off the excess but spending time with me will probably be like in-flight refueling. I fucking wish Shawn was here.'
I put my attention on the culinarian and focused on breakfast. I ordered a saucer with a dollop of bacon grease in the center of it and scraped it into a black glass frying pan on the stove. I added a second pan to the cooktop, added some bacon fat to it, and set to work chopping potatoes and onions.
When I finished chopping, I turned the electric heating element on under one of the pans and slid the chopped items into it. I ordered two room temperature pork chops from the culinarian and patted them dry. I coated them with coarse salt and pepper and got the other pan ready to receive them. I cooked the home fries, seared the chops, and threw the eggs in last. When everything was ready, I plated it and served it up with a fresh cup of coffee for each of us.
Paul waited silently while I cooked. I appreciated the quiet. I like to cook, and the lack of conversation made it easier to focus on my task. It also gave my brain less material to chew on, and that was something else that was fine with me.
I'd had a kind of a breakthrough in the shower that morning, when I decided that Bem was right about Verpa's involvement making Shawn safer. That made me feel better, slightly more centered and at ease. The unexpected activation of Paul's power reversed some of that progress. It made Shawn's absence feel sharper than it had before, because, beyond my constant need for him, the new magic power added a situational need. The fact that all the other empaths on the estate were likely asleep didn't do anything to help me maintain my calm.
Just eat and pretend everything is normal.' I coached myself as I sat to my meal. Paul isn't freaking out so there is no reason you should. Just eat and drink your coffee and wait for Andy to wake up.' I shoveled some food into my face and thought some more. Is Andy the right person to help?' I wondered. Yes. Met is the wrong type of empath, Joe never cultivated his magic and is the wrong one to give advice, Hannah, Leah, and Altus are the wrong types of empaths and two of them aren't even here.'
That thought brought me to another that was unrelated but still important. I wonder how Leah is doing without the other two, will have to check on her today.' With that mental note made, my brain shifted back to the previous line of thought. Neb and Vulp are both empaths, but they don't seem to suit the need here. No, Andy is the right choice. He and Paul have some history and they're both from Earth and they both had their power activated the same way...by an overload of magic from spending time with me. FUCK!'
I tortured myself with too much thinking and cleaned my plate without tasting much of the meal I'd made. I knew it was good, but I'd been too distracted to think about it or pause to savor. I barely realized I'd finished until I was gnawing the last of the pork from the burnt bone that was left of my chop.
I threw it away and took my empty plate to the wash cabinet. I habitually got more coffee from the culinarian and was drinking it down like it was my job when Paul finished his meal and pushed his plate away. He patted his belly and leaned back in his chair. "Excellent." He praised with a greasy and satisfied grin. "A wonderful breakfast. Thank you for that."
"My pleasure." I muttered and checked my phone to see what time it was. It was getting close to four in the morning. I hoped that meant that Andy would be awake to answer my text message soon. I didn't know how the upheaval of last few days had impacted the boy's sleep schedule, so I really had no idea when he'd be awake or when he'd see my text.
I distracted my thoughts and busied my hands by cleaning up Paul's dishes and offering him more coffee, which he refused. I got yet another cup for myself and looked around for something, anything to distract my attention from killing time or dealing with Paul's magic.
Nothing presented itself. I was getting pretty frustrated when Paul rapped his knuckles on the black glass countertop to get my attention. "How about a walk? We can stroll around outside until the sun rises."
I had an idea that would top that and offered it up. "Do you want to go up the mountain? The sunrise from the ground is nice, but seeing it from up top, it's like...like witnessing the birth of a new day. I mean, I know that's what the sunrise is anyway, but this is...it's just different. We could go up to the top or watch it through the eyes of the statue."
"That sounds wonderful. Let's go." Paul agreed.
I was surprised he hadn't jumped ahead that time. I reasoned that he'd read my frustrated thoughts about his constant anticipation of everything and kept his mouth shut. I felt a little bad about resenting his jumping ahead. I guessed it was hard not to when he already knew what I was thinking. I dragged myself out of my head and called up the building management system on my phone to open the kitchen wall so we could step out onto the plains.
"A mile or three in each direction will be fine." Paul said to jump ahead of my intended question about how far he could walk. "I feel wonderful, twenty years younger at least, and after a long sleep and a breakfast like that...I feel like I should be climbing this mountain instead of walking around it."
Paul slapped his chest again and sucked in a dramatically deep breath from the fresh, pre-dawn air. "Ah...it reminds me," his boisterous voice dropped to a low thoughtful tone so quickly, it was like something had flipped a switch in Paul's head, "it reminds me of my former life, in South America. The air here, the stars, the darkness, the vastness of everything, it reminds me of the last time...the only time I was truly happy. Thank you for bringing me here, my friend. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to remember."
My mind flashed back to the story he'd told me about his wife, then I remembered about his power and tried to chase the thoughts away before my memories made him remember. Trying to push the thoughts away just made them come on even stronger until Paul's story was all I could think about.
"It's alright, young man." Paul reassured me as his thoughtful voice filled with the resignation of the intervening years. "Nice of you to try not to think about it, but I understand why you did and how hard it would be to chase it from your mind. I understand why you are curious. I'll tell you my story. It seems fair. After all, you once told me your entire life story. Something about being here with you, the way things are now, I feel like maybe it's time to tell...what I've never told before."