Caleb 61 - Sarah

Her face split into a grin. "It's all done," she exclaimed happily. "You were right -- my brain must have carried on while I was sleeping."

"Do that for a few nights," I said, "and I'm prepared to bet that you won't have to consciously do it again. Your brain will simply pick up the task. Now, go get a some more sleep."

She nodded to me and took herself off to bed. I went out for a run.

When I got back everyone was in the kitchen, bar Melanie. She was apparently in the shower.

I used the family bathroom to get showered and then joined the girls in the kitchen where Ness had already made breakfast.

I had a full day of hypnotherapy clients at the range today and so I set out to see to them while the rest of the house's occupants set out to their various days.

All of my clients were repeats so I got on with some of my schoolwork while they sat 'entranced.' They were all making excellent progress toward their goals and were very happy to pay me the fee. Mary was, once again, talking about increasing the fees. This was for no other reason than that I had so many people on my waiting list so she thought I could become more exclusive.

I demurred and said that I would likely be getting both Melanie and Sarah involved so we could probably increase our throughput. It would be a great way for them to train their Compulsion and Telepathy and also give Sarah a good way to earn some money and take the pressure off Brian. I was more than happy to pay for anything Sarah needed but I guessed that she, and her father, would prefer that she seemed to be earning her keep. They could have had John pay for her schooling but they had not, which showed that they were not content to live off others.

That night I once again worked with Melanie, sorting through her memories, not discarding the distractions, but moving them to the back of the line, while consolidating all the relevant and useful information into solid blocks. She was getting better at it and, after about an hour, I left her to it. The other girls and I went to the dojo for our regular Tuesday night class which, as usual, I taught.

Melanie begged off although she said that once she'd got her brain processing her memories properly, she'd join the dojo and attend the Tuesday night classes.

We got back from Kevin's to find Melanie grinning like a lunatic. I'd barely entered the living room when a cushion lifted off the sofa and propelled itself with some considerable force towards my face.

I caught it with my own TK and placed it back where it belonged. Melanie had discovered her fourth power.

"I was in the kitchen," she said, "getting a drink. I ran the water because it was warm but, as I turned around, the wet glass slipped from my hand. Suddenly it was just there hovering about a foot above the floor. I realized I was holding it and was so surprised I dropped it."

"We had to go hide in our room," said Gracie entering the living room. "This place was a deathtrap of flying cushions while she practiced." She mock glowered at Melanie, but Melanie just grinned at her unabashed. Everyone knew that there was no real feeling in it and Gracie, and everyone else, was as pleased as Melanie was that she had discovered a new power.

Melanie looked at me. "When can I start to learn healing?" she asked.

"Don't you think you've got enough on your plate just now?" I asked.

She pouted.

"Give it a couple of months," I said, "then let's speak to Jeevan. I think it would be better for him to teach you than me."

I'd been thinking about the rest of her and Sarah's training and wanted to speak to Maggie about it. I wasn't sure that I was the best person to train them either. I was concerned about Maggie's manipulation though.

I also wondered about E and what to do with him.

I'd invite Maggie and Dianna for dinner over the weekend and have a conversation with them about it all. Brian had been right. It shouldn't fall to me to train them. I had more than enough on my plate.

Wednesday's ethics class was as entertaining as usual. For once it wasn't all about my life, and we had a lively discussion on the ethics of self-ownership.

"There is a movement," said the professor, "that is insisting that everyone who is physically able sign up to be organ donors. In some countries, such as the UK, you actually have to opt out of being a donor, rather than opting in, but there are a lot of objections to this, not least from religious bodies who, for various reasons, prohibit organ donation. Some even prohibit the receipt of donated blood.

"So," he asked, "to what degree do we own our own bodies? Should we be obliged to donate our organs after our death, or even our blood while we are still alive?"

I was actually quite interested to see which side of the argument that the Kumbaya crowd would come down on. On one hand I would expect that they would argue that social responsibility would state that everyone should donate if they were able. On the other their defence of the individuals' rights in the past made me think that they might come down on the side of the individual's rights to own their own bodies.

It was no surprise that they were the first to speak. I grinned widely to myself when they established their position. I had several points I was simply dying to make.

"People have the right to determine what happens to their own bodies," one said, "even after death. It's their body therefore they should have the final say as to what happens to it."

"What if them refusing," I asked, "causes the death of another. Let's say, for instance, that I have a twin, who is in complete renal failure. We are a rare blood type so the chances of getting an outside donor are so small as to be impossible. If he doesn't get the transplant, he will die. I have two perfectly good kidneys and could easily spare one. Shouldn't I give one to him to save his life?"

"It should be your choice," said the boy who had spoken before. "It's your body and, therefore, your choice."

"Even if refusing him the kidney means that I'm effectively killing him?" I asked.

He nodded vehemently. "It's your body!" he said. "It's your choice."

I smiled.

"I take it you're pro choice, regarding abortion, then?" I asked, knowing from previous heated debates that he, in fact, was vehemently pro-life. I saw a small smile on the professor's face as I walked him into that trap, and the boy flushed and start to stammer.

Dana linked my arm as we walked out of the class. She was grinning.

"That was cruel," she said, "but funny."

"I sometimes get sick of them," I said to her. "Half the time they are just spouting propaganda. They have no real understanding of the issues but are just following what is the current politically correct fashion.

"They ought to develop opinions of their own, rather than just spouting the current 'influencers' 'four legs good, two legs bad,' diatribe. They are fucking sheep without brain or rational thought."

"Now then," said Dana with a grin, "come down off the fence and tell me what you really think..."

I grinned back at her.

"I think," I said in answer, "that I am hungry."

"It isn't lunchtime yet," she said. "I have a class."

I sighed. "I need to go eat since I have back-to-back hypnotherapy sessions until four thirty."

She pulled a face. "I have to go," she said. "I missed this class last week. I can't miss it two weeks in a row."

"You go," I said as she pulled me into a hug, kissing my cheek.

"See you later," she said and walked off briskly toward her next class.

I smiled to myself as I headed to the cafeteria. I had a half hour to get something to eat before my first session.

I was mid-way through my last session of the day when my phone beeped to say I had a text message. It was from Sarah.

¬_Are we still okay to come over for dinner? She asked.

¬_Looking forward to it. Are you or your boyfriend allergic to anything or is there anything you don't like to eat? I responded.

¬_No allergies she sent immediately, but I could see that she was typing, and it took a good long time before her next send came through.

¬_Trevor is a little picky about what he'll eat. He doesn't like foreign food or anything spicy. If we ever go out to eat, we usually go to a burger joint or a steak house. His idea of exotic is to have wavy fries.

I considered that for a few moments. My immediate, knee jerk, reaction was to cook something spicy or exotic, or even do the moussaka, but that would just make me look like an asshole, especially after Sarah's text. I decided to go by the discount warehouse and spent nearly five hundred dollars on Black Angus Ribeye steaks. He'd better appreciate these.

I also got the other ingredients I'd need and some pre-made desserts.

I wasn't going to do fries. I didn't have an industrial frier and cooking fries for that many people, would take too long. I decided baked potato and salad, along with some sour cream would be a perfect accompaniment to the steaks.

+++++

The roar of an engine announced their arrival. I peered out of the window and saw a beautiful ice blue Mustang Shelby GT500 pull up across our drive.

I saw the driver's door open. A short podgy guy got out and walked toward the house. I saw Sarah climb out of the other side of the car and, after closing the door, caught up to him on the drive. He turned to his car and pushed the button on his keyfob. The car beeped as the doors locked.

I saw him eyeing up the vehicles parked on our drive. Ness', Gracie's, and Louise's car were currently parked there. He was obviously not impressed.

I went out into the yard and checked on the grill which I'd lit about twenty minutes before. It was just about ready to cook on which was perfect timing. The baked potatoes were already in the oven and would be ready when the steaks were. Ness was putting the salad together.

Mary answered the door to Sarah's knock.

I saw Trevor's jaw drop when he saw Mary and it dropped even further when Amanda went and introduced herself to him also. I saw Sarah's face redden a little and realized that she had heard his thought as clearly as I had. He'd decided that if his girlfriend was moving in here, he was going to get a piece of the twins. Maybe he could convince Sarah into a threesome with one of them, or even a foursome.

I sighed and shook my head, then went to introduce myself.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Caleb. Sarah's brother."

"Half-brother," he corrected me. Sarah shot him a look but he didn't seem to notice, nor did she seem to want to voice her thoughts.

I smiled at him. "Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Soda?" I asked politely.

"You have a beer?" he asked, walking into the kitchen and spotting Ness. He looked her up and down appreciatively before walking to the fridge and helping himself to a beer.

"This place is going to be amazing," he thought to himself. "Once Sarah moves in, I'll be spending loads of time here. I'm going to fuck those twins for sure, and this little bitch looks like she'll be up for it too."

I looked across at Sarah, and raised an eyebrow, knowing that she'd heard that too. I could see her becoming more and more flushed. She bit her lip.

I went out of the kitchen, taking the steaks with me and started cooking them. Trevor went into the living room where Dana, Gracie, and Josh and Louise were seated. Sarah came out to talk to me.

"I didn't realise he was such a sleaze," she said in a quiet voice to me. "What am I going to do?"

"That's up to you," I said. "Personally, I'd kick the chump in the nuts and tell him to shove his Shelby where the sun don't shine. But I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. But remember, he doesn't know about powers and, if you react to what you heard, he'll start to wonder. You need to be careful."

Sarah nodded, and was just about to say something else when Trevor came out onto the deck, holding an obviously fresh beer. He'd helped himself to another from the fridge as he passed.

"What you doing out here?" he asked Sarah.

"Just talking to my brother," she said.

"Half-Brother," he said once again, before looking at me.

"So," he said. "What do you do?" there was a challenge in his voice. I knew that he only asked me that question to provide the opening for him to talk about himself. I didn't care. As far as I was concerned, he could talk about himself all night. Each time he opened his mouth he pushed his foot deeper inside.

"I'm a student," I said. "At PSU."

He snorted. "I was accepted to Princeton," he said, "but I'm studying independently just now. I'll be going there for a year to finish off my studies. My father knows the dean and they agreed I'd get a more rounded education doing it this way. It also gives me more real-world experience of working in Finance. That's how I bought the Shelby. It was the result of..."

"The steaks are ready," I interrupted him, bored with his monolog. "Let's go inside and we can eat."

I picked up the tray with the cooked steaks on and headed inside. Trevor scowled but followed me. I noticed he snagged a third beer as he walked past the fridge.

We took our places at the table and Trevor eyed the meal with little enthusiasm.

"Aren't there any fries?" he asked as his meal was placed in front of him.

"Sorry, no," I said. "We try to eat healthily," I looked pointedly at his developing paunch.

He scowled at me but dug into his food, or at least into the steak and potato. He studiously avoided the salad.

After a few moments, he looked at me. "So what are you going to do when you finish school?" he asked, presumably as another lead in to talking about himself.

"I'm hoping to join the FBI," I said. He snorted.

"Really?" he asked. "What's that net -- maybe ninety grand a year? Fuck, I wouldn't even get out of bed for that. I'm going to be a stockbroker like my father. He's pulling in nearly a million a year on his investments."

"A million?" I said. "That's a lot of money. I didn't realise you could make that much money as a broker. I'm sure I read somewhere that the base salary for a broker was around the eighty thousand mark?"

"That's if you work for a brokerage." he said. "My father works for himself and has some very big clients. He earns commissions on what they make, so he makes a lot more than that."

"Isn't that risky?" asked Jules. "Lots of people have lost everything playing the markets."

"What does your father do?" he asked her.

"He has a bit of land and a few cows," said Jules, trotting out her stock answer to that question.

"My father's portfolio is worth over fifteen million dollars," he bragged, then stood and walked over to the fridge, helping himself to another beer.

Sarah looked at me, an apology in her eyes. I smiled at her and shrugged.

The rest of the dinner passed in much the same way, with Trevor asking questions designed to give him openings to talk about himself or about how much money his family had. His car had, apparently, been a graduation present from his father who had done a particularly fine deal around that time. He guffawed as he informed us of how his father had used a loophole in the law to avoid paying a chunk of the money to the IRS.

Gracie and I both shot a glance at each other, both knowing that there was no such loophole since we both still held the accountancy knowledge that we'd learned.

After dinner Trevor helped himself to another beer. I was in the kitchen clearing up and he was surprised to see me doing that.

"Man," he said. "You have all these bitches here and you are doing the chores?" he snorted.

"Fuck dude," he went on. "They keeping you on a short leash? I wouldn't allow that. I'm not going to be doing chores. That's why we have women, right?"

He chugged down the last of the beer in his hand and reached for another. There were none left. He'd worked his way through all the beer we had, about seven or eight bottles. I'd lost count.

Seeing there was no more beer, he looked at his watch.

"It's time we weren't here," he said. "Sarah!" he shouted. "It's time to go."

Sarah came into the kitchen.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go."

"I don't think so," I said.

Both Sarah and Trevor looked at me.

"What?" he said stupidly. "I said I'd have her back by ten. It's an hour's drive. We have to go."

"You're drunk," I said. "And my sister is not getting into a car with you. I'll take her home. I can drop you too, you can come back for your car tomorrow. If you give me your keys. I'll move it off the road and into the garage. It'll be safe there until you can collect it."

"Like fuck," he said. "I'm not giving you the keys to my Shelby and I AM taking Sarah home. Right now." He reached for her arm but she pulled away.

"No," she said. "I'm not getting into a car with you in that state. You'll kill us both."

Trevor looked at Sarah, then at me. Then he leered.

"Oh, so that's it," he said. "You want a piece of her. Well, that's fine, although she won't put out, she gives an OK blowjob. Maybe we can trade. I wouldn't mind a go on one of the twins?"

Sarah went scarlet and rushed out of the kitchen. Ness followed her.

"I think you better leave," I said. "And for future reference, you are not welcome here. So don't come back."

"Sarah is my girlfriend," he said. "If she lives here then..."

"I doubt that, after tonight, you still have a girlfriend," I said. "But that's up to her. However, this is MY house and you have outstayed your welcome. Now please leave and do not come back. Ever."

He blustered a little and fronted up to me. Since I was a head taller than him, I severely doubted he was actually going to do anything, but who knew. Alcohol can make people do stupid things. He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

"Sarah," he called, "I'm leaving. If you're not out here in ten seconds, then you'll have to make your own way home. You'll be in trouble with your father. You know how he gets if you're late."

There was no response. I didn't know exactly where Sarah was, but I knew where Ness was - in our bedroom. I suspected Sarah was with her.

"Sarah," he called again. Again, there was no response.

"Fine," he said, then shouted, "I'll call you tomorrow, when your being more reasonable." Then he stomped out of the house and down the drive. I watched him, making sure he didn't damage any of our vehicles. I wouldn't have put it past him to have keyed one of them out of spite, but he didn't seem to think of it.

The roar of the exhaust sounded loud and he revved his engine several times before peeling out, leaving a trail of rubber on the road outside the house. Trevor reached the end of the road and I saw him turn right and then disappear. Then I saw a flash of red and blue, and a patrol car flashed past the end of the road.

Gracie grinned at me.

"I called the local PD," she said. "I told them that there would be a blue Shelby leaving here in the next half hour and that I suspected the driver was intoxicated. They've been sat up there for about fifteen minutes I think."

I grinned at her. "That was good thinking," I said.

"I'm also going to put in a call to the IRS in the morning," she said. "I think they might be interested to hear about that 'loophole.'"

"That seems a little excessive," I said. "His father..."

"Might have broken the law," she interrupted. "I'm a federal agent. I have to report it."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Really?" I asked her. She grinned at me.

"The only reason that that little shit is as he is," she explained, "is because his father facilitated it. They both need teaching a lesson."

"You don't even know his father," I said. "He might be a really nice guy."

"He's not," said Sarah, coming back into the living room. "He's a complete asshole. Looks down his nose at us, and never misses an opportunity to tell us how much money he's got, and we don't. He deserves everything he gets."