Caleb 33 - Tough Love

They left.

"Nice people," said Amanda.

"Isn't it amazing what you find behind the curtains," I said with a grin. "An incestuous brother and sister living as husband and wife. Who'd have thought it?"

"Who indeed," said Mary, her eyebrow cocked.

"Are we going to look in the attic space now?" asked Jules, apparently excited about doing so.

"Let's," I said, and we went and opened the access hatch. There was a ladder attached, and we climbed up into the roof space to look around.

There was lighting up there, and the whole of the space had been boarded, so we could walk around easily. There was what looked like a server cabinet mounted on the end wall. When we went to it, there was a server still in it, but all the drives had been removed.

"This is a professional-grade setup," said Jules. "There's probably a control somewhere to route the feed to the television. Perhaps in the den. All we need are some hard drives, and I should be able to rebuild this to a working system."

"Tell me what to order," I said. "Can I get them from Amazon?"

"I'll take care of it," she said. "It should take no more than a couple of days."

We hunted around the den and eventually found a control, which Jules said was the one. It was stashed in the back of a drawer that I had had no occasion to go into. I then decided to call Jeevan and tell him the good news.

"Hey Jeevan," I said when he answered the phone. "It's Caleb. Just to let you know, I got rid of the bond, and I'm ready to start training with you whenever you are available."

"That's great news," he enthused. "Are you guys free this evening? Meena's been dying to meet you all. Perhaps you might come for dinner?"

"It's a bit short notice, isn't it?" I asked. "That's a little unfair to Meena, having to cook for an extra four people with a couple of hours' warning."

He laughed. "Honestly, it will not be a problem. Are you free, shall we say seven thirty?"

I checked in with the girls and they all agreed. "If you are sure it is not too much trouble," I said, "then thank you. We'll see you then."

He hung up the phone, and I was about to ring him back to ask for his address, when I realized I already knew where he lived - a side effect of reading his mind, I supposed, although I didn't specifically remember looking for that piece of information.

The girls were excited - Mary and Amanda especially. "I love Indian food," said Mary. "I have always wanted to taste it cooked authentically and not from an Americanized take-out. I want to go to India one day."

Jules, while excited, was a little less so. "I'm not a huge fan of overly spicy food, so I'm hoping it's not too hot," she said.

We stopped at the store on the way. I knew, from Jeevan's memories, that it was traditional to bring a gift when visiting an Indian household, and I also knew that Meena liked white roses. Fortunately the hypermarket had a flower section, and although the selection wasn't great, there was a nice bunch of white roses which probably cost more than they should have.

I handed them to Mary. "You give them to her."

Jeevan's home was a four-story townhouse. There was no driveway, but the street was quiet, and we found parking with no trouble. Jeevan and his wife met us at the door. Mary presented Meena with the roses, and she seemed overjoyed to receive them.

"They are beautiful, thank you," she said. "How did you know they were my favorite?" Her sly tone told us that she knew exactly how we'd known.

We all took off our shoes at the door. The house smelled of cooking - of meat and spices. It made my mouth water. We went into what appeared to be the living room, where there was a young woman seated. She looked in her early twenties. She was the spitting image of her mother.

Meena was about five-four, very petite, with waist-length black hair and golden-brown eyes. Her daughter, Yasmin, was about the same height, maybe an inch shorter. Her hair, however, was cut short and only just reached her collar. Meena wore a sari, Yasmin, jeans and a T-shirt. I got the feeling that Yasmin was trying to adopt a more American culture, whereas her mother loved her Indian heritage.

"This is Yasmin," said Jeevan, "my daughter."

She looked up, boredom in her eyes, until she saw us. Her eyes lit up at seeing someone her own age. She stood. I guessed that Jeevan had a lot of older visitors, and she'd been expecting more of the same.

"Hi," she said, holding her hand out to me. I shook it gently and introduced my girls to Meena and Yasmin. Meena obviously knew about us, having been told by Jeevan, but Yasmin's eyes widened when I introduced them all as my fiancées.

We had been there about half an hour when the doorbell rang and a young man arrived. It was, Yasmin's boyfriend. His name was Callum. He had red hair and freckles. I wondered at the offspring they might produce.

He had a remarkable accent, which I found out came from Southern Ireland. All of us listened raptly - mostly because of that accent - as he recounted his tale. He'd obviously told it many times, but seemed happy enough to tell it again.

He had moved to the U.S. only a few years ago, and as yet had not lost what he called his "Irish brogue." He and Yasmin had met when he had stopped to assist her with a flat tire on the freeway. I smiled as I heard the clarions of love from his mind. He was shouting it from the rooftops every time he looked in her direction. He was besotted by and with her.

Yasmin liked him well enough, but she was not sure. I saw some heartache for him in his future.

"I think she will settle down with him," sent Jeevan to me.

I jumped. I was not used to anyone but my girls being able to communicate with me Telepathically without my intervention. I grinned wryly as I remembered he had similar powers to mine.

"I hope so, for his sake," I returned, "or he is in for a lot of pain."

"He is a good boy," said Jeevan, "and their culture is not so different from ours. They believe in looking after their families. His religion may be an issue, but we'll worry about that if, and when, they get serious."

"Caleb," said Meena, "Jeevan says you like to cook. Perhaps you would like to see what I'm preparing for dinner?"

I caught a look from Jeevan that made me feel a little uncomfortable.

"Is that okay?" I asked him, and he looked at me with a small smile.

"Yes, bhaiya, go," he returned. "Meena has something she wants to discuss with you. She does it with all the power users. She thinks I don't know. It's as if she forgets I have power too."

Meena led me into the kitchen, where the smells intensified. My stomach rumbled.

Meena smiled. "It will not be too long," she said, and then she closed the door to the kitchen.

"I wanted to talk to you," she said. "You seem to have Jeevan's ear, and if I am right you are going to be working with him fairly closely for a while."

"He is going to be teaching me," I said.

"Jeevan has a problem," she said. "When we got married, his uncle came from India to the wedding. He sat me down and we talked. He told me about Jeevan, his power, and what it meant - specifically about his need to 'share.'"

"But Jeevan hasn't..." I began, but she held her hand up.

"I know," she said. "And that is what I want to talk to you about. I want you to convince him to do so. His abstinence is hurting him. Look at him. He is fifty years old, and he looks fifty years old. As a power user, he should, at worst, look in his early thirties. His refusal to meet his own body's needs is hurting him badly. At this rate, he may very well grow old and die before I do. I can't have that."

"He loves you," I said. "I saw that when I shared his mind. He thinks that sharing will hurt you, and he could never bring himself to do that."

"What he is doing to himself right now is hurting me," she snapped. "And he refuses to see that. I would be happy to stand and proffer condoms and wet wipes while he bedded all the girls in the neighborhood if it made him whole again."

I was stunned by the change in her. Her demeanor had gone from that of a meek, almost subservient wife to a strong, determined, angry woman.

"I know he loves me," she said, softening once more, "and the thought of him with another is not exactly exciting to me. But I look on it as a treatment. If he needed surgery to remove a tumor, I wouldn't like the fact he needed surgery, but I would want him to have it, because the tumor is much worse.

"Him not sharing is much worse for me than him sharing. I know he is never going to leave me for anyone else. I am secure in his love. I am worried that he is going to leave me before his time, because he is denying his nature and hurting himself. He is aging almost before my eyes. I couldn't stand it if he died because of me - because he refused to share, because of his love for me."

"You realize he knows what we are talking about in here," I said, and she nodded, smiling wryly.

"He thinks I forget he has power," she said, "but I have learned, over the years, how to control my thoughts and not broadcast everything that goes through my mind. He does not read my mind, but you know that we Norms tend to shout our every thought to the world. You might have noticed that I do not."

I had to admit that I had noticed that she was particularly quiet. If I had wanted to know what she was thinking I would have had to have actively investigated her mind.

"Please, Caleb. Will you help me? None of the other power users I have asked would agree. They all said that it is between him and me, and that I needed to talk to him. I have talked to him until I am green in the face, and he just smiles, and tells me he loves me. That ends the conversation."

"I will think about it," I said. "I am making no promises, but I can see how much this means to you, and I saw in his memories how much he's hurting himself. I will speak to him. But unless I miss my guess, dinner is about ready?"

She turned and looked at the stove. "Oh my," she said. "Yes, it is. Please go and rejoin the others. I'll call you through when it's served. Would you ask Jeevan to come through please?"

I went back into the living room, and interrupted a lively conversation between the girls, Yasmin and her boyfriend. Jeevan looked up as I entered. He smiled a little.

"Meena's asking for you, Jeevan," I said. He nodded before standing and leaving the room. I sat down beside Jules on one of the two-seater sofas.

I sent the memory of my conversation with Meena to all my girls and saw their eyes glaze for a second as they assimilated it. Amanda continued the conversation with Yasmin and Callum.

"What are you going to do?" asked Mary.

"I don't know," I returned. "I see her point. If he really is only fifty years old, he looks terrible for a power user of that age. I didn't realize the harm it could do - and before you say 'I told you so,' I didn't think the harm would be physical - just psychological."

Jules made a suggestion that, although I didn't like it, seemed like it might work. Unfortunately, I suspected, it could just as easily destroy my relationship with him altogether.

"We also would have to find him someone to share with," I said.

"We would be happy to start him off," said Amanda.

I looked at Mary and she smiled. Amanda loved to love. I realized yet again just how much I had been crippling my girls by not 'allowing' them free rein to share. Mary shook her head gently at me. "Don't start that again," she sent to me with a hint of amusement. "We are fine."

At that moment, the door opened, and Jeevan poked his head in.

"Dinner is ready," he said, smiling. "Come on through."

The food was delicious. There were small pastries called Samosa, which were filled with either delicately-spiced meat or vegetables; there were crispy poppadoms with various dips, along with floury chapati; the range of dishes on the table was unreal.

We were encouraged to just help ourselves to whatever we took a fancy to. At one stage, Jules reached for a dish she thought looked appealing, and Jeevan placed his hand on hers.

"That is quite spicy," he warned. "I suspect you wouldn't like it. Please try a little if you want, but with care."

Jules withdrew her hand with a smile. "I think I'll pass," she said. "I am enjoying this so much; I don't want to spoil it."

We all ate far too much. I didn't know how Meena had managed to put it all together in such a short time, but it was an absolute feast.

Callum, who seemed to have fallen into the trap of trying to prove his masculinity by eating the hottest dishes, was florid and sweating profusely.

"Are you okay there, Callum?" I asked. I could sense his mouth was on fire, and he was desperately trying not to let it show. Yasmin seemed to find it amusing. She, used to eating spicy food, was subtly egging him on. I pitied him, because as hot as it was going in, I knew it would be just as painful coming out.

I, personally, steered clear of the really spicy dishes. I liked the flavors of Indian spices, but not too much heat. I had never understood why someone would want to eat something that caused them physical pain.

At the end, Meena served up some Cardamom Saffron ice cream, which Callum wolfed down appreciatively. It was a wonderful way to end the meal, as it settled the residual heat that had started to build in my mouth. Jules, too, was especially glad of it, finding that although she had chosen only mildly spiced dishes, the heat had nevertheless built.

"That was amazing," I said to Meena, lagging behind as the others left the dining room. "Thank you so much. Can we help you to tidy up?"

She looked horrified. "No, thank you," she said. "You are guests in my home. I couldn't ask you to do such a thing."

"Jeevan calls me bhaiya," I argued. "Surely family helps out?"

She smiled at me. "You are a smooth one," she said, "but no, I have my own routine, and it is no trouble to me. Besides I think that Jeevan wants to talk to you. Yasmin and Callum can entertain the girls, although I suspect Callum is not going to be the best of conversationalist just at the moment. Why do you boys do that?"

"Don't ask me," I said. "I have no idea. Even if I had something to prove, I'm not sure how eating food that is too spicy for me achieves that."

She laughed. "Go, talk to Jeevan."

I went into the living room, where the girls and Yasmin were already chatting away again. Callum looked uncomfortable. I gently reached in and soothed away some of his pain. His face cleared and he sighed in relief.

"Healing without consent?" asked Jeevan quietly in my ear.

"Not healing," I said, "just soothing. There was no need for him to be in so much discomfort. He will have all of that and more tomorrow, I'm guessing."

Jeevan grinned. "That he will," he said. "Come."

We left the living room and went into another room, which looked like a study. There was a desk with a computer on it, and a couple of easy chairs. Jeevan indicated one chair, and took the other.

"So," he said. "You got rid of the bond?"

"Yes," I said. "It went very smoothly. We now have a different type of connection, and it's much better. I can disconnect from it at any time with no ill effects."

"May I see?" he asked, but I shook my head. He looked surprised.

"I'm sorry, Jeevan," I said, "but I don't think that you training me is a good idea. I would like, if you would, for you to show me what you did to me, Jules and the girls, so I can undo it when required, but that is all."

He looked at me, shocked, for a moment, and then his face cleared.

"Meena," he said. "She convinced you to help her."

"She did," I said. "What she says is perfectly true. Look at yourself. You are a fifty-year-old power user that looks like a fifty-year-old Norm. Maggie looks younger than you do, and yet you persist in hurting yourself. I can't come to rely on you as a mentor if, in less than twenty or thirty years, you will be gone.

"I let my guard down with you because I was hoping that you could be someone I could rely on. I feel it when you enter my mind; I trust you. But I cannot become reliant on someone who is only going to be there for a short while. Not to mention that every time we work together, I will be watching you slowly self-destruct. Are you that cruel that you would put me - put her - through that?

"Meena knows what you need. She is not happy about it, but she loves you, and would rather you share and lived a long life. She is terrified that you will die before her, and the way you are going, that is eminently possible. She looks on you sharing as a medical treatment. It's unpleasant medicine, but the rewards are worth it.

"She has no fear of you leaving her - of you falling for those you share with and abandoning her. Her fear is that you will abandon her in death.

"I'm sorry, bhaiya, if my words are brutal and hurt. But as much as it hurts me to hurt you, it is what I must do to make you see that what you are doing is wrong. Your motives are pure; your love for your wife unquestioned, but you are misguided in your thinking. I beg you to reconsider. If you do, then I would be pleased to consider you my teacher, my friend, and my brother. Mary and Amanda would also be pleased to help you to ease you into sharing, if you choose."

"But they are..." he said, surprised.

"They are Empaths," I interrupted, "and will gain as much from the sharing as you do. But you can always choose your own sharing partner. What do you think: the twins, or someone else?"

He laughed then. "I have been selling long enough to spot an alternate close," he said. "The issue is not with the who; it is with the act itself. I just can't bear the thought of hurting Meena in such a way."

"But don't you see that you are hurting her far worse by not sharing?" I asked. "She literally begged me to convince you to share. Watching you suffering is tearing her apart. She needs you to be healthy and happy, and then she can be too. The act itself is something that she can live with. You being damaged by not sharing is something she cannot."

He stared at me for some time.

"Why would you give up being a Healer for this?" he asked.

"I am not," I said. "I am betting on you coming to your senses. I am blackmailing you shamelessly. Not only do you know I am right, and that Meena needs this as much as you do, but I saw how many people you are looking forward to being able to help with my power. I am betting that the thought of not being able to help those people, because you won't have access to my power, will tip the scales."

"You would allow others to suffer in such a way?" he asked incredulously.

"Would you?" I asked. "I haven't seen their suffering. You have. But the one person's suffering that you seem blind to is your wife's. The one person whose suffering you should not be able to endure, you are ignoring completely. Your first duty, Jeevan, is to her and to your family. Are you enough of a man to step up to that?

"Talk to your wife - really talk, and listen. Listen to how she really feels. You say that she has asked every power user that comes by to help her with this, and yet you haven't understood why. She is desperate for someone to help her - for someone to help you - because she loves you, and she is terrified she is going to lose you - not to some random 'share,' but to something far worse. You are ignoring that fear. Maybe it's because you think she might decide that if it's okay for you to share then it's okay for her too, but that couldn't be further from the truth. She just wants you to be okay.

"Call me if, and when, you come to your senses." I stood.