Date: Sat, 7 Jan 2023 16:01:26 -0500 From: Samuel Stefanik Subject: From Whence I Came. Chapter 38 A bunch of you fine readers have been asking me about Andy. You all want wonderful things for the young man who was so recently dragged from the closet by his father's magic power. Well, things are starting to happen for that young man. Let's see what those things are. I hope you enjoy this installment! Drop me a line if you want. I'd be happy to hear from you. If you're younger than 18 or find these kinds of stories offensive, please close up now and have a great day! If you are of legal age and are interested, by all means keep going. I'll be glad to have you along for the journey. Please donate to Nifty. This is a great resource for great stories and a useful outlet to authors like me and readers like you. Crown Vic to a Parallel World: From Whence I Came The second installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips 38 Another Lie of Omission I woke up in the morning with Shawn on top of me. He usually slept next to me and always insisted that I have my right arm around him so he could use my right bicep as his pillow. That morning, he was rolled onto my right side, his right arm and right leg both wrapped possessively around me. We were still naked from the previous night's `festivities,' and his smooth skin felt extra hot against mine. I carefully pushed his long, black hair away from his face and admired his placid, sleeping expression. I felt his consciousness come awake and his eyes fluttered open. He greeted me and the new day with an open-mouthed kiss and enough groping that it was like he forgot all about the previous night. I briefly wondered what had gotten into him to make him so amorous. Then I realized I didn't care. Since Shawn initiated, it seemed only fair to let him have his way with the wake-up session. We didn't have another marathon, just a quick, invigorating tumble and a playful shower. When we got downstairs, Joe was in the kitchen. He was filling a huge mug with black coffee, and he looked very much the worse for wear. His hair was tousled, there were deep black bags under his bloodshot eyes, and his whole body sagged with exhaustion. "You look like shit." I observed to Joe's visible displeasure. "What happened?" "OUR SISTER and YOUR FRIEND kept me up half the night." He complained bitterly. "I should have had all the bedrooms sound-proofed. You two have impressive stamina, but what I heard last night tops anything you've done. I finally beat on the wall at three this morning and demanded silence. They didn't stop right away, I had to wait another fifteen minutes for them to finish...AGAIN. I still didn't really sleep after that, so it's going to be a rough day." Joe grumbled and stewed with simmering anger. "Do you want a pick-me-up?" I asked. "WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS?" Joe shouted and waved the coffee mug at me. Some of the strong, brown liquid sloshed on the floor from the rapid motion. I didn't get sucked into my brother's anger. I was in too good a mood to be bothered by troubles that weren't mine. "I mean a magic pick-me-up. I assume that your levels are low from being exhausted. I can give you some juice and you'll feel better." I looked to Shawn for confirmation, and he agreed. "It's not a substitute for sleep but will help get you through the day without the caffeine crash." Shawn advised in his clinical tone. Joe split a pleading glance between us. "Yes please." He replied in a small, humbled voice. Shawn and I followed Joe into the dining room where I looked to Shawn for some guidance. "We're not trying to flood him this time." He said to prime me before explaining the rest to Joe. "The last time you described feeling like something was building to a climax inside you. When you feel that getting close, let Church know and he'll stop. Filling you to overflowing does no real good unless activating power is the goal, and we've had enough honesty around here." Joe sat at the table, and I poured magic into him like I had before. It took some time to bring his levels up. It seemed that exhaustion had not only made it difficult for him to recharge naturally, but it also caused some discharge. When he was close to full, he tapped my hand and I stopped. "How do you feel now?" I asked as I straightened up. Joe answered with some of the bitterness gone from his voice. "That is the second weirdest thing ever, second to Shawn's medical exam. I feel much better, still tired but functional. Thank you." He changed subjects abruptly. "How about some breakfast?" The way he asked it, I thought he was planning to cook. "I'd love some, what are we having?" I asked. "I don't know. We'll have whatever you fix." Joe explained, and I realized he had no intention of cooking. "Ah. I see. I have to fill both your tanks this morning. You're lucky I like hot food, or I'd set a bowl of shredded wheat in front of you." I headed for the kitchen and jerked the refrigerator door open. I was bent with Joe for assuming I'd cook, but I didn't have any reason to be. I'd planned on cooking anyway. Shawn came in the kitchen to help and that made me feel a little better. Just as I cracked the first egg in the pan, Andy came down, dressed and ready for the day. He offered to help get breakfast together, and I accepted. Andy's assistance squelched the last of the anger that I felt over Joe's presumption. Mary and Bem arrived as I was getting ready to plate the food. Andy helped Shawn fan out the dishes that I loaded. The twins came up from the family room as the plates hit the table. Shawn and I took the last plates and sat to eat with the others. Bem and Mary sat so close together, they only needed one chair. All through breakfast they touched and nuzzled and fed each other. Joe glared at them, but they either didn't notice, or actively ignored him. I enjoyed my role as a spectator for a conflict that for once, didn't involve me, and that I didn't have to help resolve. I was still worried about negative feelings, but I didn't plan to intervene between my brother and sister unless an argument broke out. I had a passing curiosity as to where Bem and Mary had gotten all the energy. I assumed Bem was getting part of his stamina from living under the same roof as me, but Mary's power hadn't been activated yet. I didn't think my magic overflow could be affecting her, but I didn't know how any of that worked. I made a mental note to ask Shawn when we were alone. I finished eating, and since no one was speaking to me, I found myself staring into space and daydreaming. Thoughts of the tender marathon Shawn and I had the night before, and the fun wake up romp we'd had that morning, bubbled up in my mind like random still-slides in a mixed-up presentation. I was deep in the daydream and didn't notice right away when Andy turned scarlet in front of me. The boy was sitting across the table from me, directly in my line of sight. His color dawned on me gradually, and I wondered where it came from. No one was laughing, and Joe wasn't griping about `language.' There didn't seem to be anything external that would cause Andy to blush. I wondered what had done it. The boy raised his gaze to mine. As we made eye contact, his hazel eyes bulged out of his head, and he looked away fast. Both his strange manner and his high color made me downright nervous. I decided that I needed to get the kid alone to find out what was going on. I used the record collection as an excuse. "Andy, how about some music this morning? Let's run upstairs and pick out a couple records." I prompted. Andy leapt out of his chair and ran to his room like I'd fired a starter pistol to kick off a sprint race. I followed almost as quickly and shut the door behind us. "What's going on with you?" I demanded. The boy looked up at me, his eyes bulged again, and he forced himself to look anywhere but at me. "Something happened!" He blurted. "I don't know what, but something. Just now, you looked real happy and I wanted to know why. I thought about what might have made you happy, then I saw." Andy snapped the last word off with a yelp and left his statement hang in the air. "Saw what?" I prompted to get the conversation moving again. "Shawn." He gasped. I didn't get it. I felt like we were having two different conversations. "You saw Shawn do what?" Andy raised wide, scared eyes to me, then dropped them and covered his face with his hands. "In the shower." He whispered. `What?' I thought. `What is he talking about? He saw Shawn in the shower. When? How?' I begged him to connect the dots for me. "Andy, I don't understand. Please, tell me what's wrong. I can't help if I don't know what the problem is." Andy took a deep, ragged breath and raised his head like he was looking at me, except he didn't take his hands from in front of his eyes. "Just now, at the table, you looked happy. I wondered why you were happy. Then I saw Shawn in my mind...he was in the shower...with you. You were...oh my God!" It took me a minute, but I connected the dots and realized what happened. Andy's magic had activated...for some reason. As if that wasn't bad enough, he'd seen inside my mind as I'd pictured myself sucking Shawn off in the shower. "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" I shouted. I panicked and had to talk myself down. "OK, OK, OK, it's OK, it's just his magic...Andy, it's just your magic. Everything is fine. Need to think...need to think...stay calm and think...need help...need Shawn. He can help. You stay here and I'll get Shawn." "NO DON'T!" Andy pleaded. "WHY?" Andy answered in such a low voice I had to strain to hear him. "He'll know I saw him." `OK, have to deal with this first.' I thought. I grabbed Andy's shoulders and guided him to sit at his desk chair. The memory of Joe's magic activation prompted me to ask Andy to keep his eyes closed, but I didn't know if there was any reason for that. I got Andy to lower his hands from his face. I tried to calm my voice so he would be calm. "Andy, I think your power just activated. That's great. It's what you wanted. You got what you wanted. The trouble is, it's something I can't help you with. Shawn can. He won't blame you for seeing him. He'll understand it wasn't your fault." "It's embarrassing." Andy muttered. "Yes, it is," I agreed, "but you need his help, and he can help you. I can't. Will you let me get him?" Andy sagged in his chair, visibly defeated. "I guess." "Good." I turned on my heels to hurry downstairs and had my hand on the bedroom doorknob when I remembered why we'd gone upstairs in the first place. I grabbed a record from the shelf without too much thought and stuck it on the player. The uneven strains of an electric guitar and a stumbling piano followed me down the stairs as Elton John's `Ballad of a Well-Known Gun' from the album `Tumbleweed Connection' blared from the old speakers. I found Shawn and propelled him upstairs to Andy as quickly as I could. I told him, in front of my brother, that Andy had questions about Solum fashion. Shawn knew that I was lying but didn't call me out for it in front of Joe. He went where I asked him to go without questioning why. I left Shawn to his task and busied myself with the kitchen clean up. I did the breakfast dishes, scrubbed the pans, and drank the rest of a pot of coffee while I waited. By the time Shawn came back downstairs, about forty-five minutes later, the kitchen was scrubbed from top to bottom, and I was buzzing from too much caffeine. Shawn assured me that everything was OK, and he'd give me the details later. "Let's run out for a while." I suggested and Shawn agreed. We were crossing the living room toward the front door when a new tune sounded from Andy's room. `Tumbleweed Connection' had ended, and Andy had changed the record. The soft strains of an acoustic guitar and light cymbal percussion told me the new selection was the `B-side' of Eric Clapton's `EC Was Here', the first track, `Can't Find My Way Home.' The tune recognition hit me and halted my progress like I'd run into a brick wall. I took a step back and sat on the stairs to listen. The lyrics were few and simple, but their impact on that Tuesday morning was massive. Shawn turned to see what had come over me. "Are you alright?" He asked. "You feel...lost." "Sit with me for a minute, please." I asked and held my hand out for him. Shawn sat next to me. I wrapped my arm over his shoulders and pulled him against me. His hand reached for mine, and our fingers threaded together in a comforting way. The tune played, and I listened with my eyes closed while a shitstorm of emotion swirled within me. When the song finished, and the first chords of `Ramblin' on My Mind' broke the end-of-track silence, I stood, wiped my damp eyes, and thanked him. "Sure, but what did I do?" "You stayed with me through a very intense moment. Do you remember Father Miller's crisis of faith? I just had a similar experience but without the shouting. Thank you. I'm fine now." I felt Shawn's confusion but didn't have the emotional capacity to explain. `Can't Find My Way Home,' I thought. `God damned right. We better find it soon.' Saturday morning was only four days away, but it seemed a small eternity. I wondered if there was any way to reduce the wait. I wondered how much money it would cost to get the Crown Vic finished sooner. Even a day would help. "Let's go." I said to Shawn. "I need to check on a few things." "Sure." He said and followed me out. * * * * "Is Andy OK?" I asked the most important question as I pulled away from the house and pointed the Town Car toward PC Automotive. I was afraid the boy might be freaking out. I knew Shawn wouldn't have left him alone if that was the case, but I still felt I needed to ask. "He's fine." Shawn said with a soothing pat to the top of my thigh. "He's actually taking the whole `magic thing' rather well. Before you ask, he's a Second-Class Empath with at least a `B' rating." "Just like Joe." I said for confirmation. Shawn shook his head at the edge of my vision. "He's got the same rating and probably the same power level as Joe, but where Joe seems to have a talent for mind control, Andy's power is more passive. It seems he can read thoughts and emotions. So far, he seems to be able to read the surface thoughts, or whatever someone is thinking when he reads them. He can't search thoughts or memories, not yet anyway." I stopped at the traffic light in the center of town. It was a notoriously long light, so I shoved the gearshift into Park and turned toward Shawn. "How?" I asked. Shawn knew what I was asking. I wanted to know how Andy's power activated on its own. I felt Shawn get nervous and guessed two things; I had something to do with what happened and Shawn didn't want to admit it. I was right both times. "Your overflow did it." Shawn explained. "You did to Andy what you did to Joe, but it took days instead of moments." "FUCK ME!" I shouted and pounded the steering wheel in a mini-fit. The traffic light changed more quickly than I thought it would, and I had to jerk the car in gear and get moving before the people behind me lost their patience. The old transmission was slow to go into drive and I already had my foot on the gas by the time it caught its gear. The car shot forward with a chirp of the rear tires and accelerated down Main Street toward Pine Avenue. "Just calm down." Shawn said in his best soothing voice. "Remember, just last night Andy asked for this. He's not upset. He's happy." "Thank god for small favors." I muttered to myself, then raised my voice for an urgent question. "What the hell are we gonna tell Joe?" "Andy and I already discussed that." Shawn explained while still using his soothing voice. "We're not telling Joe anything. Andy promised not to use his magic until we get home. This is a variable I'm not willing to add to the equation. We'll keep it to ourselves." I made the left onto Pine Avenue with too much speed. The front tires of the abused Lincoln squealed their protest as the weight of the heavy engine pushed them against the grain of the winter-salt-worn asphalt. I kept my foot in the gas and the car bucked and lunged over the driveway apron that led into the PC Automotive lot. I found a spot, brought the car to a screeching halt, rammed the transmission in Park, and sat for a minute to think about what Shawn had said. I wasn't sure I agreed with the decision to keep things a secret. "If Joe finds out, this could backfire." I warned. Shawn agreed. "But he won't find out. Joe promised not to use his power of truth on Andy, and he has no reason to use it on us. He's probably afraid to use it on us. The fact that you blabbed so much sex at him when his power first awakened is in our favor. Unless he uses his magic, or one of us tells him, he won't find out. Once we get home, we'll get Preacanto to `awaken' Andy's power," Shawn said the word with his fingers up in air quotes, "and no one will be the wiser. Even if Joe finds out later, he'll already be on Solum and he'll have no real reason to complain. The only thing he can be mad about is the lie." I had a ton of reservations about the plan but agreed to leave the situation alone. We got out of the car and crossed the lot toward the office. I saw the Vic outside with the bodywork completed, which was encouraging, but the car was sitting with a raked stance that indicated a severe lack of weight over the front wheels. Anthony must have seen the Town Car through the storefront windows of the office because he hurried out to greet me as I got near. "Don't worry, Mister Philips, it'll be done by the end of the day on Thursday no matter what. I've got guys pulling doubles tonight and tomorrow to get it finished. Even I'm getting into the act." He said and indicated a filthy set of coveralls he was wearing. "Whatever it takes, Anthony, just put the overtime on the bill. Meet my husband, Shawn. Shawn, this is Anthony." I said without worrying about the blended subjects. "Uh huh. Hi." Anthony shook hands with both of us. I don't think Anthony absorbed what I said, but I didn't concern myself with driving the point home. I moved onto what I wanted to know. "Where do you stand right now?" Anthony looked up with the effort of remembering and gave a rapid-fire run down of the progress he'd made. "Right, uh...the engine and tranny are bolted up on the bench, we're installing the new wiring harness and will slip it in later this morning. The bodywork and paint are done. The suspension is rebuilt front-and-back, I took the coil-over shocks out of the rear and installed cargo-coil variable rate springs. I'll do the alignment when the engine is back in. She's got new tires, radiator, clutch fan, calipers, wheel cylinders, drums and rotors, wheel bearings, serviced the diff, new A/C compressor, evap and condenser, heater core, fan, anything and everything that could be serviced or replaced on this car has been." Anthony swelled with pride in the accomplishment of being as far along with the repairs as he was. "I see from the records, she's got over half a million miles on her. When you pick her up at five on Thursday, she'll be good for another half million." I listened to his report and was both impressed and bummed. I was impressed that Anthony was very close to doing what amounted to a complete restoration on the car in record time. I was bummed because it was apparent that no amount of money would get the work done any faster. Even with the whole shop working doubles, getting the work completed was still going to be a sprint to the finish line. I didn't bother to ask about gaining a day. "How's the tab looking?" I asked instead. My concern over the total price tag was an academic one. I counted the bill as part of the ransom I exacted from Ars for making me come to Earth in the first place. Anthony rubbed his palms together like he wanted to start a fire between them. "I hope like hell you meant what you said when you said money was no object. I'm glad you stopped, if I don't get something on account, the old man is going to kill me." He said in reference to his father, Paul. "Whatever you need, Anthony. I'm easy." I said with what I hoped was a warm smile. "I'll settle the bill up to this minute, just tell me what it is." "Let's go in and look. The parts invoices and labor tickets have been racking up so fast, I can barely keep track." We followed Anthony into the office, and I admired the view as we went. Anthony's coveralls hid most of what I wanted to see, but they weren't too loose to completely conceal the appetizing roundness of his impressive ass. Shawn gave me a side-eyed glare to let me know that he knew I was looking, but he didn't say anything. Anthony sat behind the desk. He entered a few last-minute tickets on his computer and printed a report. He looked at the paper, winced, raised his eyes to mine, and looked back at the paper. "Twenty-one thousand, four hundred and fifty-three dollars, and eighty-seven cents." He said and stared at my face to gauge my reaction. I dug my wallet out of my right front pants pocket and offered up a baby-blue credit card. "Here, round up to twenty-five thousand and put it on my Diamond Deluxe card." Anthony took the card from me and looked at it. "Wait...whose card is this?" He asked. I remembered the last name confusion and took my license from my wallet to prove my identity matched the name on the credit card. "Summas is my married name. I used Philips when I saw you last week, so you'd remember me from before." Anthony scrutinized the license and the credit card, then raised concerned eyes to mine. "I never heard of a man who took his wife's name." He said. I rubbed my face with both hands in frustration for Anthony's misunderstanding. His words confirmed that he hadn't heard me when I introduced Shawn to him in the parking lot. I tried again. "Anthony...this is Shawn SUMMAS." I reintroduced him to Shawn. "HE is my HUSBAND. I took HIS name when WE were MARRIED. Get it?" Anthony's eyes remained confused, but he nodded his head and gave me back my license. He punched some buttons on his computer and tapped the credit card against the reader. He seemed to hold his breath while he waited for the system to process. The reader beeped, processed, and spit out a receipt. Anthony scanned the slip of paper several times with his eyes, printed a duplicate for the file, and gave the original to me. I accepted the receipt and turned to go. I paused with a second thought and turned back. "I'll be by on Thursday at four-thirty. Don't let anyone leave before I get here. I'm planning to bring a thank you for the whole shop...as long as it's OK with you and Paul." "Sure." Anthony agreed. I guessed he anticipated it would be booze, and that's exactly what I had in mind. "The guys would love that. I'll square it with Dad." We shook hands all around, and Shawn and I left. "That's a good-looking guy." Shawn said when we were back in the Town Car. "Yeah, pretty good." I agreed. "He's about your age, a couple years younger." "You like them like that?" Shawn asked suggestively. "Calloused and rough with dirt under their fingernails?" "Oh yeah." I purred. I purposely let my lust loose to tease him. "I'd take him after a long day, sweaty and reeking of used motor oil." I caught Shawn's surprised semi-scowl at the edge of my vision. "I saw you looking," he said, "but I didn't think you were imagining, not that much detail anyway. I can't believe you fantasized with me standing right there." "You were in the fantasy too." I deflected. "Oh yeah," Shawn challenged indignantly, "what was my role?" I looked him full in the face just long enough to answer, "you got to hold Anthony's coveralls." Shawn bought it for just a second. One of the problems with sharing emotions, is the other person always knows when he's getting lied to. "You are infuriating!" He shouted in mock rage. "You don't want to hold his coveralls?" I teased. "I'd love to hold his coveralls. Maybe he'll throw a used set in with the repairs." "Just stop, you silly ass!" Shawn broke up with melodic laughter. We enjoyed the joke for a few minutes before we came back to reality. Since we'd left the shop, I'd been driving aimlessly. "Well, now what?" I asked. "I don't know. What do you think?" "I don't care as long as we don't go back to the house." Shawn thought out loud. "It'll be hot down the shore and in the city. There's not much to do around here. It'll be cooler in the mountains, right?" "Somewhat. We'll definitely have shade up there. What were you thinking?" "How about Peddler's Village, New Hope, or the Lambertville Farmer's Market?" "Lambertville sounds perfect." I agreed with Shawn's general idea and selected one of the options. I pulled into a convenience store gas station, topped up the Town Car, added a quart of oil, got one large coffee and one small black tea for the road, and aimed the crossed hood ornament in the direction of Pennsylvania and Interstate 95. Lambertville was in New Jersey, but it was easier to go up the PA side and cross at New Hope, than it was to get there through the Garden State. I had a second thought and pulled over on High Street, which was the last residential street before we got on the interstate out of town. "Should we go back for Andy?" I asked. "Church...I promise he's fine." Shawn insisted. I nodded and pulled gear shift into Drive like I agreed with Shawn. Instead of proceeding to the end of the road and onto Route 73 toward the bridge, I cut the wheel all the way to the left and hammered the throttle to the floor. The V-8 roared, the back tires cut loose and churned, propelling the ass end of the car sideways in a smokey U-turn. When she came around, I straightened the wheel and drove back toward Forklanding Road. "I HATE when you do that." Shawn blustered from the passenger seat. "Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just felt like having some fun. I'm going back for Andy. I can't stand the idea of him having to spend the day alone." Shawn objected in a voice that was still mad at me for the tire squealing U-turn. "I told you he was fine." I jerked the car to the side of the road again and flipped on the hazard flashers. "Is there something wrong? Do you not want him with us?" I asked. "No, that's not it. I just," Shawn trailed off and chewed his lip, "I thought it would be nice if it was just you and me and no stress and no responsibilities and no family stuff." I brought my right hand up to caress my husband's beautiful face. "Oh, love, that would be perfect, but I think Andy is lonely. Bem is spending all his time with Mary and Joe isn't any fun and Andy's power just woke up and he just had a birthday...in my mind he's sitting in his room fooling around with his fashion designs and wishing he was already on Solum. Let's take him with us and have some fun. It'll make his day and we'll still get to spend time together. Please." Shawn leaned into my touch and smiled at me. "You win," he said, "let's go get him. You're a really sweet guy, you know that?" "Eh..." I took my hand from Shawn's face and waved it dismissively, "I just know how much it sucks to be lonely." I shoved the car in gear and drove us back to the house. As we went, Shawn brought up my crisis from earlier. "What happened with you this morning?" He asked. "I've never seen you react to a song like that. The way you held onto me and the emotions pouring out of you, sadness, fear, hope, loneliness, anticipation; it made me nervous. When the song ended, you thanked me and that was it." It was another moment where I had no idea how to explain what I felt so it would make sense to anyone else. I wondered in a great, big circle until I found a spot to approach the problem. I started with a question. "Where is your home, Shawn? Tell me that and I'll try to explain what happened." "You know where it is. It's your home to. My home is our building back on Solum." He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Is it?" I asked like I didn't believe him. "You'd be hard pressed to prove that. In the five plus years we used that apartment as our home address, how much time did we spend living there? Maybe eighteen months if you strung it all together, and more than six of that was my recovery time, so that hardly counts. What's there that proves that apartment is our home? Did we ever redecorate, hang pictures, change the curtains? Other than some paperwork with our names on it, if we never went back there again, how would anyone know we'd ever lived there?" I shook my head at the situation. "When that tune came on this morning, I was standing in the house that witnessed my entire youth but was never a home. I thought about the row home I lived in for almost twenty years that was simply a place I came back to everyday. It was never home." As I spoke about the rowhome, I remembered it as the place where the old me lived inside my mind. I shivered at the misery of the apparition of that version of myself. I didn't want to reopen that as a topic of discussion, so I moved passed it. "Then I thought about our apartment and all the time we've been on the road. That's not really home either. Finally, I realized `home' is wherever you are." I sighed over my conclusion. "I want to put down roots. I want to go home but until that exists as a physical place, as long as I'm with you, I'm home. Until I came to that conclusion, I felt adrift and alone in a vast ocean, and it was terrifying for a few moments." Shawn replied to me but spoke to the windshield. "That's why you said it was like Father Miller's crisis of faith. You had a moment of terror and resolved it internally. I'm glad I was the solution to your problem." I felt like there was more to say, but I didn't know what it was. Shawn's last statement brought us up to Joe's place. I left him in the car and ran in to get Andy.