Left of center again…

Taz stared at the cluster of holes in the paper target fifteen meters down range, her hands tense, even a little numb as she set the small, black, compact pistol down on the range desk, and her mother stepped up, touching her shoulder to get her attention, speaking loud enough to be heard through the noise-canceling ear-muffs.

“You need to exhale when you pull the trigger, Tasha, not inhale.”

“I know, mom.” Taz sighed to herself. Her mom had weird ideas of how mother-daughter bonding worked.

“Here.” Anna stood side-by-side with Taz, the both of them ignoring the uneven staccato of booms happening in the ranges around them from other shooters.

As her mother reloaded the pistol’s clip, Taz took note of the number of men versus women there. Of course a vast majority of them were men, a few with their wives, but the only other woman there by herself was a lady who looked like she’d come straight from the office, only having loosened her clothing and hair a bit. None of them were a fifteen year old girl – though plenty were in a t-shirt, jeans, and a hat like her – and none were in a nice sundress with a little pink wool jacket over it like her mother.

The two blonde women at the range garnered plenty of looks, especially Anna. Taz’s hair hid her privacy band for the most part, so from the rear, most of the eyes were on her mom, which was growing more and more weird as Taz grew older and she realized she was getting comparatively few looks even as she was coming into her own.

Anna slid the clip into the gun and set it down on the tray, glancing back at her daughter. “Okay, again. Remember—”

“Exhale as I pull the trigger?”

“Very good!” Anna beamed, stepping back for Taz to take her place and pick up the pistol. “Remember, don’t get fancy, aim for the chest.”

Both hands on the gun, unlock her elbows, widen her stance, aim down the sights, loosen her shoulders, exhale as she pulled the trigger…

She remembered the first time she’d fired her mom’s gun on the range, the suddenness of… everything made her nearly drop the weapon and scramble into her mother’s arms for safety. Her mother had stroked her head, and told her she needed to get used to it, and while her second attempt had rattled her, she’d managed a few more shots without freezing up.

She’d gotten so used to guns on TV that having one in her hands felt like she’d stepped into another reality; she hadn’t expected the weight of compacted metal in her hands, the sound being loud enough to make her shiver, even with her ear-muffs on, or that smell of gunpowder and heated brass in the air…

That night, two years ago after her mom had first taken her shooting, she remembered they’d watched a movie with a lot of gun fighting in it, and she no longer wondered why everyone seemed like such a lousy shot. All that noise, your heart hammering in your chest, it was suddenly much more eye-opening watching a movie star practicing all those strange, stiff movements when moving around with a loaded gun in hand, knowing every shot could kill...

“Better, you have a very dead target.” Anna noted when some of the racket around them died down. Still not on mark, but she was getting steadily closer to landing more than a couple of bullseyes, and Anna pressed a button on the desk to draw the target into fetching distance to take it down. “Alright, that’s enough, I think. I’m getting hungry.”

“Me too.” Taz responded, heading over to the small pile of rolled up papers up against the wall and picked up the stack of targets they’d blown through over the course of an hour. Her mother packed the little luger they were practicing with into her case, and they left the range together, curious eyes and amorous grins following Anna’s leave.

Her mother didn’t even seem to notice, or really care. Some older guy in a ball cap and a camo vest smiled at her as he held the door open for the two of them, and Taz shivered a tiny bit.

It was just weird seeing all these lecherous looks glancing their way, even if she wasn’t… usually the target of them. Anna Cooper wore her age incredibly well, to the point she’d been asked if they were sisters rather than mother and daughter.

“Hey hey, how was shooting today, Cooper girls?” The man behind the desk asked; a husky guy, with a square head, balding on top, five o’ clock shadow going, and a little ponytail tied in the back.

“Very good, Dimitri, thank you.” Anna set the papers on the desk to be thrown away, and Dimitri curiously unrolled them to check them out before addressing Taz.

“Oof, got the Blue Meanie right in the eye!” He said with a friendly grin, and Taz nodded, returning the smile.

“He’s the Blue Meanie, I think he deserved it.”

Dimitri chuckled and took back the pieces of equipment they’d borrowed before tallying up their cost. He looked at Taz maybe one more time throughout the exchange, his eyes otherwise firmly fixed on her mother.

“So, Anna, I was curious…”

“Mhmm?”

“I won some tickets to an indie concert happening right after Christmas; me, my buddy Chet, and his girl are going, how’dja like to be my plus one?” Dimitri asked.

Taz looked up at her mother curiously, and Anna kept an impassive face on as she passed her card over to Dimitri.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to decline.”

“It’s a multi-day event, so if you’re worried about scheduling—”

Anna cleared her throat, interrupting him, and her eyes tightened; just enough to reveal a displeased iciness that immediately reminded Taz that she had to do her homework and unload the dishwasher when she got home…

“I’m not worried about scheduling; my answer is no.” Anna said in a calm voice, but the simple way she said each word instantly shut down any further discussion and any future invitations.

Dimitri fumbled to give her her card back, and nodded, his eyes not lifting off the till. “Right right, sorry. Uuuh, you two have a good day! We’ll see you next week!” He tried to go back to jovial and waved, and Taz waved back.

“You shall.” Anna squeezed her daughter’s shoulder gently to get her moving, and the two walked out the store, a gun case under Anna’s arm.

Both climbed into the car to head off, and Taz leaned against the passenger-side window, sliding her privacy band off and staring at the distant, Arizonan horizon through her reflection.

“Well that was awkward.” Taz finally said, shifting her eyes to watch her mother as she drove.

“Yes, and you’re getting to that age where you’re going to have to start doing the same thing, Tasha.” Anna glanced back, a small, amused smile on her face. “Honestly, I’m shocked the boys aren’t lining up to ask you out already.”

Taz made a face. “Ew, is there a ‘closed for business’ I can wear?”

“Not with a face like that, hon.” Anna said, reaching over to pat her daughter’s knee comfortingly. “Fortunately or unfortunately, you inherited most of your looks from me.”

“Were you dealing with this stuff when you were my age?” Taz asked curiously, and Anna gave a small chuckle that petered out into an annoyed grunt.

“Mhmm, from men of all ages.” Anna shook her head, one side of her mouth tightening at some memory or another. Taz raised a curious, if disgusted eyebrow at her mother. “Oh don’t you worry, I was picky back then as well; I didn’t have anything resembling a relationship until I met your father.”

“How old was he when you two started…” Taz gestured to herself uncomfortably, and Anna gave a quick, amused laugh before settling down, eyes forward.

“Oh, he was an older man. Probably more than twice my age at the time.”

“What?! Ew!”

“Oh, stop that.” Anna waved her hand at her daughter playfully. “He was handsome, he was charming, he was single, and most importantly,” Anna leaned over just a bit to whisper, “he was rich!”

“Oh my god, mom…”

“Wealth greases the wheels, dear. The thighs, too.” Anna grinned as Taz made a noise of pure disgust. “It was a short time, but it was… fruitful, and gave me something resembling decent expectations when it came to my future relationships.”

“Like Danny?” Taz raised an eyebrow, and Anna opened her mouth, stopped, and stretched her lips thin with a regretful stare at the road ahead.

“No, he was a mistake.”

“And Robbie?”

This time, Anna didn’t look disappointed, just… wistful. She let out a sigh, and glanced Taz’s way, Taz staring at her with a small frown. “I don’t regret Robbie.” She stated firmly. “I just don’t agree with his life choices.”

“He seems happy on the road.” Taz said, staring ahead instead of at her mother. “He’s got a show in Houston this week.”

“And I hope his bandmates are giving him the company he wants.” Anna said, though she could always disguise contempt as well-wishes.

The car fell silent, with Melodica remaining out of sight, surprisingly, unwilling to break the discomfort that fell over both girls. Taz leaned back in her car seat, her fingers curling like she was clutching a guitar, and through the silence, she began to strum a mimicked tune. Of course, there was no instrument in Taz’s hands, but she knew the notes by heart; so well, in fact, she could picture the sounds clearly enough to fill the car with practice chords.

She could sense her mother’s distress. It wasn’t pressing or loud, but they were both thinking about him, and the sounds of guitar only made it harder to remove themselves from the topic.

Eventually, Anna exhaled loudly enough to get Taz’s attention, and Taz blinked at her mother as she put on a somewhat annoyed smile.

“Maybe we’ll do that next week: I’ll teach you how to say no to boys.”

“Eh.” Taz lowered her hands to her lap, twitching to tap at imaginary piano keys, Chopin’s Op. 66 playing with the movements, though at a low volume; it didn’t matter if she actually moved her fingers to the right notes, she’d heard it and played it often enough that her mind alone could produce the music.

“You’ll have to learn, and it’ll either be from a teacher or some personal experience, and you don’t want just the experience.” Anna bobbed her head, while Taz groaned.

“Mom, honestly? I’ve had no boys looking my way since grade school; I’m really not worried about having to say no. If I stay short and flat and plain, I’ll let the prettier girls take the attention off me.”

“It’s too early to say you haven’t got the looks, dear, you have quite a few years ahead of you to shoot up like a weed and out like a melon patch.” Anna smirked at her daughter, her elbows twisting inwards to squeeze her own breasts, and the sound of piano was replaced by a series of shrieks and yelps as Taz swat her mother’s arm.

“OH MY GOD MOM NO! NO! NO! STOP!” Taz yelled as Anna laughed by herself, letting her daughter writhe and cross her arms over her much less substantial chest. “Augh! I am not growing boobs, alright?!”

“We’ll see what adulthood says, honey.” Anna snickered, and Taz groaned. With her daughter thoroughly regretting sharing breathing space with her, Anna tapped the radio button to the classical music station, pausing a moment before turning up the volume. “We’re going to stop by your Aunt Zi’s house before we head home, she has a few things for me.” She explained.

Taz didn’t move at first as she digested the small change in plans, but a lightbulb clicked on in her brain after a few moments of thought. “Would it be okay if we stuck around for a bit so I can talk to Mr. Cole?” She asked, and Anna gave an approving nod.

“Of course, but not for too long; I’d like to get started on the meatloaf before too late.”

Taz nodded back, and leaned back against the window.

Passing through that little white picket fence still filled Taz with a quiet excitement from the sheer nostalgia. Aunt Zi’s tall, three-story, almost dollhouse looking home made her remember the nights when her mother would drop her off to be babied and fussed over by their family’s closest friends.

The car pulled into an open parking spot on the house’s driveway and Taz perked up, her eyes laser-focused on a woman standing on the porch, surrounded by potted plants, holding a watering can and waving with a big, bright smile.

Zina Cole was the loveliest woman Taz knew. She was older than her mom, though still strong in her younger forties. She had a deep, dark skin-tone, with long, tightly curled black hair that hung around her shoulders almost like the head of a mop. Even in a lazy pair of yoga slacks, a cheap blouse, and a loose, wool robe on, she was a strong looking woman, as fit as her mother was, and only a few inches shorter.

The car parked, and Aunt Zi descended the steps to greet them, almost throwing herself around Anna, who returned the hug tightly enough that Taz grinned; they’d seen each other not even a few days ago and they still acted like they were long lost sisters.

“Anna~! Baby, still looking damn good!” Zi and Anna held each other in their arms, grinning at one another as they talked. “Smelling like gunsmoke, too; thanks for reminding me it’s Wednesday, sugar.” She winked, and Anna gave a short laugh.

“Happy to keep you on schedule, Zi. You’re looking well! Did that cough finally clear up?” She asked, and the two women parted so Zi could bustle over to Taz, and though Taz thought she was prepared for it, she still let out a loud yelp as she was suddenly consumed in a hug so tight and… bosomy that she was left squirming and giggling as Zi rocked her back and forth.

“Taz, sweetie, you are still skin and bones! I keep trying to teach your mother my good recipes to put some weight on you. Poor thing!” Zi lamented, crushing Taz tightly before letting her go, holding her out by the shoulders so Taz could readjust her glasses on her face and give Zi a slightly dazed grin.

“I dunno, auntie, your jambalaya left me with some pretty high standards; mom can barely make brownies.” Taz was all smiles, and Zi cackled as she hugged Taz again, more briefly this time, just as bone-crushing, and let go so she could guide the two Cooper women in with her arms over their shoulders.

“Anna, I finally visited the doctor about that damn cough, and you wanna know what it was?” Zi asked, her voice frought with annoyance as they stepped into the first story of her house.

“Absolutely, tell me everything.” Anna ordered, smiling brightly as Zi led them from the foyer to the kitchen, sitting them both down to grab some lemonade and chocolate crackers.

Taz had two homes, and, effectively, two mothers. She’d known Aunt Zi as long as she’d known her own mother, truth-be-told; some of her earliest memories were running around with Zi’s daughter, Madeline, in her backyard, the two moms sitting up on the back porch watching as the two, young, burgeoning psychics played games or showed each other itty-bitty tricks they’d taught themselves.

There were plenty of evenings where Taz was dropped off at, or picked up by her nominal auntie, and she’d spent the night eating some of the heartiest, spice-packed food she’d ever eaten, watching big family movies with Zi, her husband Randal, Maddy, and Mr. Cole. Aunt Zi also gave her an appreciation for jazz, and it was a difficult choice to pick between continuing piano practice or picking up a saxophone when given the choice, but ultimately, she went with piano, since her mother had just gotten their big baby grand set up in the den.

She hadn’t had to stay over in quite a while now that she was older, but even with a new toddler running around – probably with uncle Randy at the moment – the house felt less alive with Madeline away.

Taz missed Madeline, and tried not to feel jealous that Zi let her oldest go to PA while she was still stuck in Arizona, already a few years behind the normal entry age for Phoenix students...

“—and the doctor says: ‘Ms. Cole, you got allergies.’ And I tell him: ‘what? Honey, this is Arizona; I ain’t had the sniffles since I was in Texas!’”

“... The new oak trees in front of the agency.” Anna suddenly said, and Zi carefully, but still pointedly, smacked her hands down on the table, causing a rattle through the plates and lemonade jug.

“The damn oak trees in front of the agency!” Zi nodded her head with big, wild eyes. “So now I’m gunna be taking an allergy pill just so I don’t cough my damn lungs outta my chest while I’m trying to work! Annie, honey, I swear my bosses are tryin’a get me killed.”

“They’d better not, otherwise I’m going to be… unhappy.” Anna chuckled, Zi guffawed, and Taz grinned as she tried to picture her mother walking into a room full of armed federal agents and making them cower with nothing more than her sheer, polite iciness.

“I don’t need you losing your temper on my behalf, Annie; you know me, I can raise hell when I gotta, and if I really gotta, I’ll dig those damn trees up myself.” Zi giggled, and immediately refilled Taz’s glass when she finished the last drop. “Here ya are, honey. Didja have a good day at school?”

“Yeah,” Taz answered with a small smile, “I guess so. Melodica kinda outed Mallory’s crush on a guy at lunch, but—”

“If she’d just had the stones to do it herself, I wouldn’t have had to!” Melodica pouted, suddenly sitting in the chair next to Taz, and Zi gave a quick, happy cackle before filling a glass up and setting it in front of the tulpa. Melodica politely leaned forward to press her lips to the rim and pretend to drink, before giving Aunt Zi a thumbs up. “Delicious as always, Zi!”

“Thanks, baby!” Zi beamed, and Taz gave a low chuckle, her mother munching a cracker with a relaxed posture.

“He ended up asking her out on a date once he knew, so, I think it worked out.”

“Certainly sounds like it; good job, Mel, don’t let those kids run themselves ragged with secrets.” Zi winked the mermaid’s way, and the girl just beamed to herself while Taz rolled her eyes. “Anywho, Taz, Mel, I have a few things to give your mama before y’all get home; you wanna join Randy and Teddy in the backyard?” Zi offered, smiling in open pleasure. “Teddy loves to hear your piano-playin’.”

“Oooh, that’s super tempting, but, um…” Taz blinked a bit, not sure why she was feeling so coy all of a sudden, but a quick glance to Melodica gave her tulpa all the push she needed.

“Is it okay if we talk to Mr. Cole?”

Zi looked mildly surprised at the question, but then eagerly bobbed her head. “Papa’s in his usual place, I think he’s awake watching TV. Go on ahead, suge.”

“Okay! Should I bring him a coke?” Taz asked, slipping out of her chair while Melodica swirled around the room eagerly, pausing by the fridge as Zi pursed her lips.

“He’s had one today already… why don’tcha tell him you slipped one by me?” Zi offered with a conspiratorial smile, opening the fridge to pull out a can of soda, holding it out on an open palm so Taz could float it over into her waiting grip.

“Okay! Thank you, auntie.”

“No problem, sugar.” Zi beamed, and Taz and Melodica both left the room towards the foyer to take the stairs up.

Zi leaned against the doorframe to watch her honorary niece go, and as soon as Taz was gone from sight, she turned back towards Anna and slowly settled into the chair across the table.

Anna wore an expression of slight concern as she took Melodica’s still full glass of lemonade and sipped at it, her eyes fixed on Zi as her old friend bridged her fingers in front of herself and sucked in a deep breath.

“She’s asking about Phoenix again, huh?” Zi asked, and Anna’s expression darkened a moment, but she nodded.

“Like clockwork. Every time those damn commercials are on TV.”

“Okay.” Zi worked her lips slowly, and Anna’s expression remained drooping and unhappy as Zi tapped her fingertips together. “I think it’s time.”

“Zina.” Anna hissed, putting the glass down as her face began to turn red with a sudden flash of anger. “You absolutely know why—”

“Don’t you get snippy with me, Annie!” Zi interrupted her quickly, cutting the blonde woman’s tirade short. Before Anna could come up with another response, Zi held her hands up, and gave Anna a gentle look. “I know why. I wouldn’t be trying to tell you what to do if I didn’t have a reason to. The agency’s released some info recently, and it’s going to be on TV tonight.”

Anna stared wordlessly at Zi, unmoving, unchanging, barely blinking as she processed this… lack of explanation. “And it’s classified coming from you.”

“I need you to watch the eight o’ clock news.” Zi told her, her plump lips straining with concern. “Or read any news tomorrow, it doesn’t matter, it’s going to be everywhere by eight-thirty tonight. Just, please,” she reached out to squeeze Anna’s wrist, drawing a mystified frown, “it’ll be for her own good.”

Taz’s knuckles rapped against Mr. Cole’s door three times, light and polite. No voice spoke up on the other side in response; instead, a feeling brushed past her unbound mind, a familiar acceptance, which she returned with a mental pulse of her own, one filled with affection and identity that sparked feelings of joy and surprise from the other side.

She opened the door to find a simple little room; clean white carpet, clean white walls, open windows to let in the cool, December breeze, frames hanging all over the place with portraits and pictures depicting family members, and against the far wall was a lone, frail figure resting in bed underneath a blanket, watching the television hanging opposite the bed, but his eyes were on Taz.

He smiled a toothless smile underneath a plastic tube crossing over his bare upper lip, feeding oxygen directly into his nose. His bulging, yellow eyes blinked slowly as Taz strode in, Melodica swimming ahead of her to slide in by his side, staring at the man with an affectionate smile as Taz grabbed a chair and pulled it up to Mr. Cole’s bedside, and set the cold coke on his bedside table.

He had his son’s mocha skin-tone in contrast to Aunt Zi’s darker complexion, and his scalp was filled with sparse, curly white hairs. Taz slid her hands around his, squeezing the small, cold fingers as his thumb brushed against her knuckles, and Mr. Cole glanced over at the television, his smile straining a little as the movie he was watching decreased in volume.

Taz watched him cross his eyes for a moment, and another mental wave washed over her mind, and she could feel him knocking on her proverbial mental door, which she answered unhesitatingly.

{Hi Mr. Cole!}

{Hey there, honey.} His telepathy voice was smooth and young, the voice of a man still in his glory years. {Will you help this old fool sit up?}

{Yes Mr. Cole!} She answered without opening her mouth, and she shot out of her seat, sliding her hands underneath his body as Melodica helped, the thoughtform’s hands giving Taz an anchor for her telekinesis to help slide him up above the covers, her mind plucking pillows with Melodica’s assistance to provide a nice, plush wall for the older man to lean against.

He put on a pleased grin, and glanced over at the can of coca-cola sitting nearby, then gave Taz a wordless glance, and at her nod, the can flew from its perch in front of his face, the tab snapping the tear line open, and with an ease his body could no longer provide him, Jebediah Cole drank a mouthful of soda with open relish, his aura smooth and bright with delight.

{Natasha, my love, you’re too good for this world.} He thought at her.

{Thank you, Mr. Cole.} She smiled at him, while Melodica pressed her hands around the can to hold it for him, easing the strain on his mind and putting it on Taz. Taz was younger, and telekinesis was easier when Melodica was borrowing it.

“How do you feel today?” Melodica asked, but as it all came from Taz’s mind, he heard her speak both through his ears and in his mind.

He looked over at Melodica, not moving his head too much as he did so, his smile unceasing. {You know this old man; pretty soon I’m gonna be part of this bed. They’ll have to cut open the mattress to get me out!}

He wheezed a soundless laugh, and both girls giggled as he took another sip of soda.

{And how’re two of my favorite granddaughters today?} He glanced between them both, and Melodica gave an extra smartass smile as she reached out to touch Mr. Cole’s forehead, and his eyes softened as Taz’s memories of the day filled his mind.

Getting to take her privacy band off during class, Melodica shouting in the cafeteria, shooting targets on the range, the memories came by in vague animations with conversations trailing through them, incomplete but providing as much of an idea of a story as simply telling him, and Mr. Cole wheezed again as Melodica replayed her moment of triumph—and Mallory’s expression of pure horror—in his head again and again.

{To be that young again.} Mr. Cole licked his lips, and weakly squeezed Taz’s hand. {But you’re hiding something from me, aren’tcha? Plenty of stress in those memories.}

A moment of silent contemplation, and Mr. Cole’s question repeated in her head, more forcefully as he sensed her apprehension and concern, and Taz eventually relented with a nervous wince. {Yeah, I was actually hoping to get some advice from you while I was visiting, but that can wait—}

{The hell it can!} His thoughts interjected themselves so boldly and heartily, it was easy to forget they came from a man attached to an oxygen tank. {If it’s stressing any of my grandkids out, this old fool’s here to help! What’s the matter, sweetness?} His thoughts turned more warm and calming with his question, making Taz squirm in place as he filled her mind with the mimicked scents of cinnamon bread and fresh-baked cookies, instantly putting her at ease.

{Mr. Cole, I… here.} It was easier to simply show him; thoughts of Phoenix Academy from the videos she’d seen, memories of her mother’s ultimatum the night before, the unsatisfactory jobs she’d heard about, or researched on her own.

His eyes were unfocused as he experienced her frustrations and woes, her persistent hope that she might find something to convince her mother, her crushing worry that she might not, and she could sense his mind stirring beneath it all.

He’d known she wanted to go to PA for a long while, they’d discussed it at length before, and he’d encouraged her desire to hone and develop her powers, but he was quieter this time around. He drank slowly with Melodica’s help, smacked his lips thoughtfully as he raised his shaking hand to rest on Taz’s shoulder.

{So that’s it, huh? Your only hope of going is proving to your mom that the world needs psychics to function?}

{I guess so.} She responded, looking at him, his expression no longer quite as joyous as before. {She thinks it’s just parlor tricks, but I know the world can benefit from psionics! Just, with all the laws and stuff in the way, it’s impossible! If things change in the next few years though, maybe…}

{Wanna know what I think?} He asked, though she could feel his reluctance.

Hesitantly, she nodded. {Always.}

{Your mom’s right. You’d be better off honing human skills, not psionics.} He squeezed her shoulder as her expression broke into a deep frown. Melodica hung her head at his thoughts, and he took a deep breath before continuing his train of though. {Phoenix Academy’s a good place for the mundane stuff, that’s a good thing. It’s not gunna get you a career that’ll help the world, though, not anytime soon; that’s also a good thing. The last century showed the world what unified forces of psychics could do to both a battlefield and the regular ol’ folk stirring up new ideas at home, and it scared the hell out of ‘em all. Believe me, it scared the shit outta me too, and I was one of the pyrokinetics they sent to Vietnam, one of the fellas burning that poor country down to ash.}

Taz looked alarmed, her expression creasing in frustration. {But I don’t want to hurt anybody! I don’t want to do any of that sorta stuff, I want to help people!}

{And given time, baby girl, maybe people will open up to that idea.} Mr. Cole breathed deeply, his expression slack with sympathy and sadness, his hand shakily moving back down to hers to squeeze it. {When I was your age, I wanted the same thing. I worked at a shoe store, remember?}

The question was filled with warmth and nostalgia; she saw a world, a city less advanced than today, a little hole in the wall in downtown LA where groups of happy children ran up to Mr. Cole with their shoelaces swinging between their ankles, shouting: “Can you tie my shoes, Jeb?! Can you tie my shoes?!”

She felt the concentration, again and again, the joy of the scene, kids giggling as their shoelaces sprang to life and wove together into a perfect bunny-ear knot. She watched the awe on an older woman’s face as she sat in her Sunday’s best, watching as a pair of heels sprang to life and slid up her feet, unmarred by fingerprints as she shook Jebediah’s hand.

{I loved how much my powers made people happy, Natasha. A young black boy in the fifties with a power that no white man could take away, giving people a show that even the circus wouldn’t provide.} Mr. Cole’s smile was broad, his eyes closed at the happy memories playing between the two.

Then, however, the happy feelings faded, and Mr. Cole remembered a black suit, and the mustache of a white federal agent whose face was obscured by the fog of ages. “Jebediah Cole, I’m here on behalf of the United States army to enlist you into a psionic defense force.”

Taz’s eyes jumped open at the sound of an explosion in her ears, and the screams cut short when Mr. Cole opened his eyes, his lips crushed tightly together, leaving Taz shaking at the merest hint of the things he’d seen.

{Taz, baby girl… the world is scarred. The things the suits made us do to other countries, the things the suits made us do to our own people; they’re fresh, a stain in my memory. I wanted to quit the day Martin Luther King Jr. was killed, but they made me stay, said they couldn’t trust a federal psychic out on his own. When they found out I’d been supporting him in private, they dragged me into interrogation, pulled my memories out like a kid digging through sand, and when they put them back, they left my voice on the counter. I was one of the lucky ones, I still had my personality and childhood left.}

He stared at her with big, sad eyes, and Taz shivered. He restrained his memories as best he could, but his voice was steeped with the pain and betrayal he’d gone through, and it colored her thoughts, and sent Melodica sinking into the bed to hide.

{We were in turmoil for decades, sweet pea; we couldn’t be trusted. Psychics were the oppressors, and people wanted to tear them down, and when the governments of the world decided that this game of psychics-against-psychics they were playing with each other was causing too many problems, they put us on lockdown. It took Zhou Ping starting the psychics’ civil rights movement to show the world that, maybe, on our own, psychics ain’t gunna make puppets and zombies out of everyone they meet… but we still got a ways to go.}

His sunken gaze filled with pity and remorse for a lifetime of strife, and Taz held his hand, squeezing it to warm it, to apologize for making him remember the hell he’d lived through. He tapped her mind though, just a gentle draw of attention to break the sullen, misty-eyed stare she fixated on her knees with, and she glanced up to see him giving her a thin smile.

{Baby girl, this world doesn’t need more strife, and I know you’re one of the last people to start any. What it needs is psychics who wanna make people smile.} Flashes of beaming little faces and untied shoes… {I want you to go to PA to get better, but I want you to know what you’re up against. Don’t go to get a job, go ‘cuz it’ll make you happy, and it’ll make you better at watcha do. I woulda been happy as a cobbler all my life, even if I wouldn’t have met Maria.}

Flashes of a dark-haired woman, short and beautiful in a nurse’s uniform, holding his hand at his bedside, her eyes closed, warm feeling passing between their minds, distant, but loving words muddled by his forgetfulness, but no less impactful in making his heart hammer. His first words since his interrogation, his first conversation...

{Make your mama see that you’ll be a better guitar player at Phoenix.}

{O… okay.} She thought the word hesitantly, her mind filled with sorrow, curiosity, and optimism at the idea.

{Tell her Mr. Cole wants you to go.}

{I will.}

{And baby girl?}

{Yes sir?}

{Promise me that these powers you got, under no circumstance, you don’t go hurtin’ no-one who don’t deserve it, alright?}

Taz was silent. She didn’t disagree, and Mr. Cole grinned toothlessly at her; he felt the confusion at his order, the thought not even crossing her mind.

{There’s my girl.} His thoughts surged with affection, and he squeezed her hand before glancing back at the TV. {Melly, go turn up the volume for me, alright?} He turned back at Taz. {Wanna watch some Madea with me before you gotta go?}

{Sure!} Taz beamed at him, turning her chair to face the television as Melodica swam over to the television, Taz hitting the volume button until they could both hear the movie, delight passing between them as they did.