Caleb 62 Family

Author's note.

So much is happening just now, I'm struggling to keep up. Despite that I'd still like to thank all of you for sticking with me, and for sending me your feedback and messages of support, wherever you are reading this.

Thanks, as always, to Dr Mark for all the work he puts into the editing, and to TheSwiss for all his work.

PM

Caleb 62 -- Family.

I stared at the car as it disappeared into the distance almost wondering if I'd imagined it. Edgar had Telepathy? That seemed like a stretch. Why had nobody ever noticed? Why had he never used it on his parents? Or his sister?

I had thought that Sarah having Compulsion and Telepathy was from John, but what if the Telepathy came from Carrie. Did she carry the gene for powers but nobody noticed? Did everyone assume that Sarah's powers came from John and overlooked any potential in Edgar?

I had even more questions. Why, for instance, had Edgar chosen to reveal his power to me of all people? Was he really on the spectrum or was his aversion to being around a lot of people more because of the mental 'noise' he would suffer out in public? Each of my questions led to exponentially more questions.

My first instinct was to call Sarah and tell her, but then I thought about it...which led to more questions. There must be a reason that Edgar hadn't shown his family that he had power. What right did I have to 'out' him to his family? I determined that Edgar and I were going to have a long chat the next time we met.

I glanced at my watch and saw that I had less than an hour before I had a hypnotherapy appointment, a new client, at the range.

I thought I recognized the man who showed up for his appointment just over ten minutes late.

I was in my 'office' when there was a knock on the door and Hoss stuck his head in.

"Your guy's here," he said.

Hoss was good about acting as an unofficial receptionist for me when I was working there. If I had several sessions back-to-back, he'd greet the people as they came in and get them to sit in the reception area while they waited for their turn. He'd even put a couple of chairs out for them to sit on. Normally, in that situation, I'd walk my client out and see my next one seated there. However, in this case, since this guy was late, I'd been sitting in the office writing an outline for my senior thesis when Hoss knocked.

I stood up intending to go out and greet my new client but, as Hoss withdrew, the guy pushed his way into the room. He looked me up and down and looked un impressed at what he saw.

"You're just a kid," he said.

I raised my eyebrows at him. He came further into the room and closed the door behind him. Once again a new client showed up without a chaperone. I made a mental note to tell Mary to tell all new clients that if they showed up without one, I would decline to treat them. The way this guy was looking at me I was doubting he was going to stay in any case.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" he shot at me.

"I'm a state licensed hypnotherapist," I said. "And since I don't advertise, I'm guessing that you found out about me from someone you know that I've helped in the past. Yes?"

"One of my roadies," he said, "said that you helped him quit smoking, and that he'd not had a single craving since coming to see you."

Roadies? I thought. Then the penny dropped and I realised why I thought I recognized him. I'd seen him before. He was a musician, and quite a successful one. Not a megastar but certainly someone who, if people knew he was at the gun range just now, would have a crowd of people outside screaming to see him. I also thought that the twins, and probably Ness and Sarah, would be in that crowd. Now I thought about it I was certain I'd heard them playing some of his stuff.

"So, you want to quit smoking?" I asked, since he seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

"Not exactly," he said.

"Then how can I help?" I asked.

He looked at me for another few seconds and then seemed to make up his mind.

"You know who I am?" he asked. I shrugged.

"According to my diary," I said looking at my laptop, "your name is Robert Wilson."

He snorted. "But you recognize me," he said, "don't you?"

I shrugged again. "Were you expecting me to ask for your autograph?" I asked him.

He looked startled for a second and then he laughed.

"Okay," he said. "I guess I asked for that." He finally sat in one of the chairs across from me.

"I have a problem," he said, "and I'm hoping that you will be able to help me with it. Well, I actually have more than one problem but they are all kind of connected. You obviously know who I am. If you know who I am, then you know that I have a persona, a reputation, an image. My contract with my record company kind of depends on my keeping that image.

"If they, or the media, got hold of the news that I have a problem, it could end me. The media would ruin me, my label would drop me, and probably sue me for breach of contract. Worst of all, if my fans found out about it, they'd be devastated. I'm supposed to be different, clean."

"What kind of problem is it?" I asked levelly.

"Coke," he said. "Fucking Davey got me on it. We were on the road for so long and I was dead on my feet. 'Just a little something to help you perform on stage,' he said, and it was, at least at first. Now I can't get out of fucking bed without it."

"Who's Davey?" I enquired. "A friend?"

"He used to be a roadie," he replied bitterly. "Now he's just my dealer. I hate him, but I need him."

"How much are you spending on coke per week?" I asked.

"About five grand," he said.

I shook my head.

"Kicking this habit is not like quitting smoking," I said. "It's going to take some work. And some dedication from you. How long are you in town for?"

"We're here for three months." He replied. "We're in the studio working on an album before we go on tour again."

"Okay," I said, "I can work with that, but you're going to have to work with me. I can get you clean in that time, if you follow my program. I'll need to see you twice a week for the first month, and then I think we can drop to once per week for the rest of the time."

I looked at my diary and worked out the dates. "That's going to be sixteen sessions, at two fifty a session."

"Your lady told me a hundred per session." He exclaimed.

"You're spending five grand a week on coke," I said. "I'll save you the cost of the entire course in the first week."

He stood up.

"Forget it," he said. "I shouldn't have come here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and threw it on the table.

"For today," he said and turned towards the door.

"How about this?" I suggested as he reached for the handle. "I'll get you off the coke, in three months as promised, but you pay me at the end. If I don't deliver, then you don't pay. Simple as that. By that time, if you put away what you would have spent on coke per week, you will have saved sixty grand.

"Since I'm deferring payment, you'll pay me five grand at our final session."

He stared at me for a long minute and then nodded.

"Fine," he said.

"Have a seat," I said, and he sat down again. I opened the consent form and turned my laptop around to face him.

"I need you to sign my consent form," I said.

"Consent form?" he asked glancing at the laptop. I noticed he actually read it which took him just over five minutes. He obviously wasn't dumb.

"So I consent to letting you rifle through my head," he said. "And you promise complete confidentiality."

"Absolutely," I said.

He signed the form.

He glanced at his watch. "There's only about twenty minutes left. Do you have time to start today?"

"We'll make a start," I said. "And, later, I want you to call my secretary and slot in two appointments per week."

I got him to count backward from one hundred. I didn't let him get to ninety as I had a lot to do and not much time to do it in.

First, I needed to know what was going on in his body. When I examined him with my Healing, I could see the drugs in his system. He'd taken some not long before coming to see me. I guessed he probably had some in his pocket, probably to use on the way home. I checked and saw I was right.

I got his body to metabolize the drug, clearing all of it out of his system. He'd have to drink a lot of water for the rest of the day to flush his kidneys so I placed that as a compulsion. By the time he went to bed tonight he'd be clear. I then went into his mind and started work.

I started by placing my compulsions similar to those I used to stop people smoking. I wasn't going to make it as simple for him. I wanted him to feel the cravings and to experience some of the symptoms of withdrawal. I could simply block them for him but, not only would that be too easy, it would be suspicious.

He would stop, but he'd at least feel like he'd had to work for it.

Whatever happened though, no matter how much he craved he wouldn't give in. He wouldn't take the drug ever again. I wondered idly how his 'dealer' would react to having his golden goose stop laying. That wasn't my problem though.

I finished everything with five minutes of the session to spare and woke him up.

"You need to get rid of the drugs you are carrying," I said. "There's a bathroom over the other side of the reception area. Go in there and flush them. All of them. I also want you to drink at least three pints of fluid by the end of the day. Not alcohol. Water is best, sports energy drinks work too, but not the caffeinated ones. You don't need another addiction to deal with.

"It's not going to be a walk in the park, but you will get through it. You will be clean by the end of the course of treatment."

"I'm not..." he began but I held up my hand.

"I know you have some on you." I told him. "It's in your inside jacket pocket. I asked you and you told me while you were under. Get rid of it before you leave the range and I don't mean up your nose. Flush it then leave. I'll see you after the weekend.

For a moment I thought he was going to argue, but then he simply stood up and left. He didn't even say goodbye.

Five minutes later there was a knock on the door. Hoss poked his head in.

"Was that..." he began.

"Was what?" I asked.

"That guy?" he said "He looked like..."

I shook my head. "I don't know what you mean," I said. "I've been sitting here all alone for the past hour. My two o'clock didn't show."

He raised an eyebrow at me but then nodded slowly.

"My mistake," he said.

I smiled at him. "Thanks Hoss," I said.

He just grunted as he left the room closing the door behind him.

I made us all an early dinner, since Thursday night was our usual 'range night', and then we all went back to practice our shooting.

Since we'd been practicing religiously every week, we were all much improved over how we'd been when we started. We had a small competition. Jules won, with Ness and I tying for second place. The twins were very close behind us though. Dana came dead last. Gracie shot, but declined to participate in the competition saying that she didn't want to show us all up. I suspected she was concerned that, as an FBI agent, she didn't want to risk getting beaten by 'civilians', and college kids at that. I didn't mention my suspicions though.

I had a quiet word with Mary about my newest client. She was puzzled when I told her he'd be calling to arrange two appointments a week for the next month and that he'd be paying five thousand for the entire course of treatment, but only after the treatment ended.

Since Mary was ostensibly a staff member in my practice, I felt I could, without breaching confidentiality, tell her his true identity. I did not tell her why he'd come to see me though. That, she didn't need to know.

We were getting ready to leave for our various events the next day. Josh and Louise were first out of the door, but came back almost immediately.

"Caleb," Louise said, looking unhappy, "someone has slashed all our tires."

"What?" I said, intelligently, following her out of the front door to see for myself.

As she had said, all three cars on the drive had had their tyres cut. The holes weren't huge, probably made by something like a screwdriver rather than a knife, but they were definitely flat. None of these cars was going anywhere fast.

Gracie cursed up a storm. Her car was one of the ones on the drive along with Louise's and Ness'.

I glanced across the street at Pricktard's house. He was my first thought as to who might have done this. In fact, he was the ONLY person I could think of that might have done it. I'd promised Mary that I'd leave him alone, but if it turned out that it was him that had cut our tires then all bets were off.

"You guys catch a ride in with Mary and Amanda for today. Leave me your keys and I'll get the tires repaired. Jules can take my truck and drop Ness off before going to school, then I can pick her up in her car later when it's repaired.

"Can I get you an uber?" I said to Gracie, but she shook her head. "I'll call it in. The motor pool will bring me out another car to use and take this one to the shop. It just means I'm going to be a little late. Do you think this was Pritchard?"

"I suspect so," I said. "Let's have a look at the security footage."

We went into the living room and pulled up the camera feed for that morning. It had happened about two in the morning. Someone of medium height and build, wearing dark pants, a dark long sleeved top, and a balaclava had brazenly walked onto the drive and stuck what looked like a screwdriver into the tyres of each car. They had seemed to know about the camera's since they looked up at one point but didn't seem to care.

I tried to ascertain what direction they had approached the property from, but it was impossible to say. Even if it seemed that they had come from across the street, that wouldn't prove anything.

Gracie called in the vandalism and I called both the police and the tire guy. I was going to look online to find one but then I remembered seeing the van that had come out to fix Pricktard's car and, since I had perfect recall, called the number I saw on the side of the van. He said he'd be able to come out within the next couple of hours.

He arrived before the police did, although the first to arrive was a low loader with a car on the back for Gracie. She drove away in it as the driver of the low loader put her car on the back and took it away for repair.

The tire guy was halfway through replacing the tires on the two remaining cars when the police arrived.

They took a look at the security footage as well as the damage that they could see on the car that the tire guy had yet to get to.

"Any idea's who would want to do this?" asked one of the officers.

"Nothing I can prove," I said. "My neighbor across the street has accused me several times of vandalising his car. I have a restraining order against him. He would be my first thought."

"We'll go have a chat," said the officer. "Are you going to claim on insurance?"

"I'm not," I said. "But one of the vehicles was a government car -- FBI - so they will probably want copies of your report."

"Here's a report number," said the officer. "You can pass it on to them."

I thanked them and they walked across the street to Pricktard's house.

After a brief conversation with him on his porch, they returned to their car and left. They didn't come back to let me know the details of their conversation.

I looked at Pritchard as the officers were driving away. He was looking in my direction, his face unreadable. Was I wrong? Was this him? Or was it just a coincidence. It seemed a reach, but I'd hold off on reprisals until I had more information.

I went back into the house and made some changes to the security system. I pulled up the image of the driveway on the camera and selected an area covering the drive. Then I set the system to send me an alert on my phone if any movement was detected in that area. I set it to only alert between the hours of ten at night and four in the morning. I didn't think it likely that our visitor would show himself, or herself, in daylight.

An hour, and nearly two thousand dollars, later the cars were repaired. I moved Louise's car inside the garage for now, and then took Ness' to her school, parking it in the parking lot just as she was finishing a class.

Being connected to her meant I caught up with her in no time at all in the cafeteria. She was sitting with a couple of friends from her class, one of whom was Tiffany, the girl who'd been making eyes at me on the first day when I'd interrupted the professor controlling them all.

Tiffany's eyes lit up when she saw me.

"Caleb," she said. "Nice to see you."

I smiled at her. "Tiffany," I returned. "How are you?"

I put my arm around Ness' shoulder and kissed her cheek. Ness smiled.

"Here are your keys," I said. "Your car is in the parking lot out front. I'll see you later."

"Are you not staying for some lunch?" asked Tiffany, but I shook my head.

"Sorry," I said. "I really have to go. I need to get to PSU.

It took me about thirty five minutes to jog the distance back to the house. I took a shower and drove Louise's car to PSU. I arrived in plenty of time for my afternoon hypnotherapy appointments.

That night, Melanie suggested we have another barbecue. I had no feelings either way, and we had plenty of the right type of food in the house, so I started pulling things together to cook.

"I'll go light the grill," she said. I opened my mouth to say something, but I was getting a feeling of excitement from her. Since she was shielding, and making a good job of it, I couldn't see what she was so excited about, but her aura gave her away.

I followed her into the yard where she was busy filling the grill with charcoal. I was about to tell her that she needed to place some wood in with it, and even some fire starters, to make it easier to start, but I stopped myself. I suddenly had a suspicion of what I was about to see.

I wasn't disappointed.

Melanie stood back, looked at me, and grinned before looking back at the grill, her face a picture of concentration.

Sudden flames shot up from the coals, much higher than they needed to be. Melanie tsk'd and relaxed a little. The flames fell back a little to within the bounds of the grill.

"I need to practice more," she said conversationally to me while trying, and failing, to suppress a smug grin.

"Stop showing off," I said with a grin. "Looks like my beautiful and talented sister is even more talented that I thought."

I'd sent the image of her lighting the grill with her PK to the other girls and they all came running out excitedly.

"Melanie," Ness said, running up and throwing her arms around her. "That's awesome. That means you must have the full suite."

Melanie grinned happily as the girls all crowded around to congratulate her. Since I couldn't get near her, I decided to do the next best thing and take control of the grill. Since the charcoal was now glowing nicely, I started to cook.

+++++

There were no alerts from the security system that night. I'd slept a little fitfully listening out for my phone making a noise, but four a.m. arrived without any excitement.

Melanie rose with me and we moved out into the yard to start training.

We'd been out there for about ten minutes when I heard the gloryhole open. I smiled to myself. It had been a while since we'd played through the gloryhole and I wondered if Melanie would be up for it. She didn't know our neighbours and since she had a full suite of powers, she was going to have to start 'sharing' at some time. Perhaps some anonymous sex might be a nice way to ease into it.

"Melanie," I sent to her. "Our neighbours have opened the gloryhole. Do you feel like having a little fun?"