Powerful

A telekinetic mother struggles to raise her telepathic son.

Evelyn was getting worried. Four years old and her son still hadn't shown even a hint of any discernible powers. No strange fluctuations in lighting when he had a tantrum, no changing the TV channel without a remote, not even a lone lolly hovering inexplicably. She was beginning to think telekinesis skipped a generation.

She pushed the worry out of her mind and concentrated on dinner. She soon found herself distracted once more, this time with thoughts of his father. As she knelt down to put the roast in the oven she heard her son totter into the room. “Up!” he demanded, trying to pull himself onto a chair. Evelyn lifted him without a second thought. She’d gotten quite good at splitting her attention. Auto-pilot covered the dinner, a quick burst of telekinesis covered her son and the rest of her mind was free to dwell over the past as it had so often the last few weeks.

Her son interrupted the wander down memory lane with an innocent question. “Mom, why is dad a poo-head?”

Evelyn stood up so fast she hit her head on the oven roof. “What?”

“You called dad a poo-head. Only you didn't use that word.”

Evelyn scurried over and knelt down in front of her blonde little boy. “Timmy, sweetie…” she said slowly, willing her voice not to waver, “…how did you know that?”

Timmy blinked his large blue eyes slowly. “You said it.” He touched the side of his head. “In here.”

Evelyn sat back in shock.

Her son did have powers. He could read minds.

The horror settled over her like a cold blanket.

She was the mother of a four-year-old who could read minds.

From that day on life was never the same again.

“He doesn't like you.” The little boy told the large woman eyeing off the checkout man.

“And what would you know?” she said affronted and walked off.

Evelyn leant down beside her son. “Sweetie, remember what I said?” she touched his forehead. “Hush about here.”

He looked up at her, confused. “But it’s true.”

“I know honey, but a lot of people don’t want the truth. They like the world in their head.”

The boy pouted. “That’s stupid. I don’t.”

Evelyn put down her shopping basket and scooped the boy up, sitting him on her hip. “What do you mean sweetie?” she asked quietly, stroking back his soft blonde hair.

“It’s noisy in here.” He frowned. “Everyone keeps talking over each other.” He pointed to a suited man with a laminated ID badge. “And he hurts.”

“Why does he hurt?” Evelyn wondered, watching the man.

Timmy squinted, his eyes becoming slits of sliver. “The board won’t like the potassium subtraction, the budget is already stretched tight, Vanessa keeps wearing g-strings you can see through her trousers-“

“That’s enough sweetie.” Evelyn hushed him as the man turned, looking puzzled. As well he should, he’d just heard the echo of his own thoughts outside his head.

She kissed Timmy on the forehead, bouncing him absent-mindedly. “So you can’t stop listening?”

Timmy nodded, the silver glaze rolling back to reveal his naturally blue irises. “Like TV. Gotta keep watching.”

Evelyn bit her lip. “Tell you what. How about while we’re here, you listen really hard to Mommy’s thoughts?”

Evelyn concentrated on remembering all the words to a song. After a few moments, her son’s eyes glazed over with a silver sheen and he went limp in her arms. She finished the rest of the shopping on auto-pilot, carrying her son on one side and the basket on the other.

“Oh what a cutie! Did he tucker himself out?” The checkout girl asked, interrupting Evelyn’s zone. She returned to reality to find herself with a full basket and somehow her wallet in her hand.

Tim blinked sleepily and sat upright, his eyes snapping back to a brilliant blue. “I’m four, and I don’t want you to kiss me. You’ll give me mouth herpes.”

The girl looked taken aback. Her right hand flew up to cover the cold sore. She didn't take it away for the rest of the shopping, preferring to battle it out with her left hand than face more shame.

“It’s not herpes.” She mumbled as she handed Evelyn her receipt.

“I don’t want you to eat me up with a spoon either.” He replied matter-of-factly.

Evelyn hurried out of the store before her son could drag anymore unwanted attention to himself, leaving one very puzzled and embarrassed cashier.

Evelyn paced the bedroom. She was worried. Tim was already displaying a far more extensive vocabulary than any child his own age and showed a remarkably disdain for white lies. And she didn’t know how long she could keep explaining his multiple word-perfect answers to his teachers. He was already bursting out of the ‘bright’ label and pretty soon they’d want to move him. Whether it would be up a level or out of the school was what she was afraid of.

“Mom?” Timmy called sleepily from the end of the hall. “I’m tired. Can you worry after I’m asleep?”

Evelyn bit her lip so hard it bled. “Sorry honey.”

She crushed the thought to yell at him to get out of her head. She’d gotten good at crushing thoughts. Timmy couldn't help hearing everything, and she knew no tricks to help him control it. There hadn't been another telepath for three hundred years.

Well, except for his father.

She pushed that thought to the back of her mind. She refused to think of the man, every since Timmy had first heard her call him a shithead for leaving her in the lurch.

She padded down the hall and listened at Timmy’s door until she heard his breathing become deep and even. Only then was it safe to think. And remember.

Timmy’s father. He wasn't really a shithead. He’d been a good man, thrust into the wrong career. A child soldier that never got the training out of his system. She’s loved him, she really had. But the night terrors had gotten so violent she’d feared for their little boys safety. So when the call for soldiers came, she’d told him to go.

And just like that, he’d left. He’d left her with a two-year-old boy, a mortgage and a car that didn't run. Not that that mattered, she had more than enough mental energy to send the wheels spinning without ever touching the engine. And she could have dealt with that. He was back in his element, and they were safe from his unconscious attacks.

But then the letter had arrived.

“We regret to inform you…”

The tears slid silently down her cheeks as hot as the day she’d read those words.

He was dead. The love of her life was dead.

All the telepathy in the world and he’d walked straight into a sword.

A sword. On a battlefield full of guns, bombs and metal armour. A single bloody sword wielded by a crazed civilian.

He’d finally met a mind he couldn't read. And it killed him.

Evelyn slid down the wall and curled up into a ball, crying quietly into her dress.

That blind shithead. Always his mind on their thoughts, never on where they were, what they were doing. That stupid, loveable, impossible, terrifying, beautiful shithead.

The father of her poor sweet baby. Tim had one of the rarest gifts in the world, and he had no idea how to use it.

Just like her.

But wait, there's more! Find out what happens to Timmy and Evelyn; download 'Powerful' by Elizabeth Am Burns from Amazon today.

Author's Note

Find out what happens to Timmy and Evelyn; download 'Powerful' by Elizabeth Am Burns from Amazon today.