Authors: T.M. Franklin
“And you chose my barn,” the man said gruffly, lowering the rifle slightly and pushing the front of his hat up a bit. He was younger than Ava first thought, although his face was creased along the edges, burnt brown by hours working in the sun. He jerked the tip of the rifle toward Caleb. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Uh . . .” Ava scrambled for an explanation. “He’s epileptic. He had a seizure.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Shouldn’t he be in a hospital?”
“No,” Ava said quickly, remembering what she’d read about the condition. “It happens all the time, really. There’s nothing to be done. It just tires him out, and he has to sleep it off.”
The man studied her face intently, and Ava fought to keep her expression open and honest, willing him to believe her. After a moment, he lowered the rifle. “Well, you can’t stay out here. Come on, then, I’ll help you get him up to the house.”
Ava blinked in surprise. “That’s really not necessary—”
The man cut her off with a wave of his hand, stepping into the stall and crouching down to look at Caleb. “He’s really out of it, isn’t he?” he muttered, shaking his shoulder.
Caleb moaned slightly, but didn’t open his eyes. The man slipped an arm under his shoulders, lifting him to his feet while Ava supported him on the other side. They dragged him out of the stall, Caleb sleepily moving his feet but not really helping much.
“What’s your name?” The man asked.
“I’m Ava,” she said, tightening her hold around Caleb’s waist. “This is Caleb.”
“So tell me, Ava,” he said, glancing at her sideways. “How did you two end up all the way out here? I didn’t see a car anywhere.”
Ava swallowed thickly. “We . . . uh . . . we’re hitchhiking.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Hitchhiking with a man who has regular epileptic seizures? Doesn’t sound like the best plan.”
Ava shrugged, unsure how to respond.
The man huffed slightly, shifting Caleb’s weight a little as they climbed the back porch steps and all but carried Caleb into the house. They walked through a large kitchen and down a short hallway to a small bedroom. Caleb fell onto the bed, and both Ava and the farmer breathed in relief.
He shot her a slight grin. “He’s heavier than he looks.”
Ava smiled back. “Yeah.”
He held out a hand. “I’m Lucas. Lucas Jordan.”
Ava shook his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Jordan, really.”
He shrugged. “Couldn’t leave you lying out there in the barn, could I? And call me Lucas.” His eyes shifted around the room as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Uh . . . my wife went into town, but she’ll be back soon. Looks like your friend here is going to be out for a while. You want some coffee or something?”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” At his exasperated look, she smiled. “Sure. Coffee would be nice. Thank you.” She pulled off Caleb’s shoes and covered him with the quilt, leaving the door open as she followed Lucas back into the kitchen.
“You mentioned your wife,” she said as he filled the coffee maker. “Is she going to be all right with all of this?” Ava waved a hand toward the bedroom where Caleb slept.
Lucas laughed slightly. “Marley’s always bringing home strays,” he said with a wink. “You don’t have to worry about her.”
He flipped the switch on the coffee maker, and they sat at the worn kitchen table, Lucas studying Ava closely and Ava looking anywhere but directly at him.
“Are you going to tell me what kind of trouble you’re in?”
“What?” Ava asked, eyes wide. “No . . . we’re not . . . I mean . . .”
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Ava.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But if the police are going to show up on my doorstep, I think I have the right to know.”
“No,” Ava said quickly. “No, it’s nothing like that.”
Lucas nodded slightly. “All right, then. Do you want to tell me what it
is
like?”
Ava sighed. “It’s . . . complicated.”
“Yes. It usually is.” He stood to pull a couple of mugs from an upper cabinet. “Cream and sugar?”
“Both, please.”
He poured the coffee, saying nothing more until he set the mug in front of Ava. “Do you know what you’re going to do next?”
Ava blew into her cup, watching the ripples play on the surface. “We’re heading to a town called Mead. Do you know where that is?”
“Sure,” he said. “It’s about fifteen miles north of here.
Ava eyed him carefully. “Is there a town nearby? Somewhere we might be able to rent a car?”
Lucas laughed. “Rent a car? In Mabley’s Corner? I don’t think so.”
“How about a bus?”
Lucas shook his head. “There’s one that runs through town, but only on Saturdays.”
Ava bit her lip, looking away as tried to think of another option. “I don’t think we can wait that long.”
Lucas studied her for a moment over the rim of his cup. “I’ll tell you what,” he said finally, draining his coffee. “I need to pick up a few things in Mead anyway. I can give you and your friend a ride tomorrow.”
Ava hesitated, unsure what to say. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t.”
She looked up at him, tears pricking her eyes—whether from exhaustion or simply a reaction to the kindness of this stranger, she wasn’t sure. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I don’t know how to repay you. It’s just . . . I wasn’t sure what we’d do . . .” Ava knew she wasn’t making any sense, the stress from the past few hours had finally kicked in.
Lucas shifted, his eyes falling to his feet as a flush crawled up his neck. “It’s nothing,” he muttered. “I need to go tend to some things,” he said, flipping a thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “You’re welcome to make yourself at home.”
Ava stood, the coffee cup warming her fingers. “I should probably stay with Caleb,” she said, tilting her head toward the hallway. “In case he wakes up, you know?”
Lucas nodded. “All right, then.” He turned with one last glance and went outside, the screen door slamming behind him.
Ava made her way back into the bedroom, sitting in a worn wingback chair by the head of the bed. She sipped her coffee then set it on the bedside table, curling her legs under her. An afghan crocheted in brown and orange was draped over the back of the chair, and after a moment, she pulled it down across her lap and leaned her head against the cushioned wing, watching Caleb sleep. His quiet breathing lulled her into a comfortable state, and before she knew it, her own eyelids began to droop.
She tucked the afghan snugly up over her shoulders and fell into a deep sleep.
Caleb awoke to the light of the early afternoon sun peeking through the sheer curtains at the window. Confused by his surroundings, he rolled over to find Ava sleeping curled up in a chair as hushed voices outside the small bedroom cut through the silence.
“But who are they?” a woman asked.
“Just a couple of kids,” a man replied. “Down on their luck, I think.”
“You think?” she repeated. “You didn’t ask?”
“You’re awake.” Ava stretched, the afghan over her shoulders falling to her lap. “How do you feel?”
“Umm . . . better.” Caleb sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Where are we?”
“Outside a little town called Mabley’s Corner,” Ava said, standing up to look out the window. “I can’t believe I slept half the day away.”
Caleb swung his legs off the side of the bed, but when he stood, he swayed slightly, and sat back down immediately. “What you did to Tiernan took a lot out of you. It’s more of a drain since you’re not used to your ability yet.”
Ava shook her head as if she didn’t know what to say to that.
“Whose house is this?” he asked, flipping on the bedside light before trying to stand again. He seemed a little more steady the second time.
“Nice man named Lucas Jordan and his wife,” she replied. “He found us hiding in his barn and decided against shooting us, fortunately.”
“It doesn’t sound like his wife is too happy about us being here,” he said, as the conversation in the other room quieted suddenly. Obviously they knew the two of them were awake.
Ava frowned. “Lucas said she’d be okay with it. He also offered to give us a ride to Mead tomorrow.”
Caleb blinked in surprise then sighed heavily. “I don’t know if we can wait until tomorrow.”
“The others.” Ava swallowed nervously. “Will they be able to find us here?”
“Maybe,” he replied. “They won’t be able to track the shift, but it’s only a matter of time before they zero in on us.”
“Shift? Is that what you did?”
Caleb nodded and rolled his neck wearily. “Not many of us can do it, and as you can tell, it takes a lot out of you. I pushed us to about my limit.” He paused, as if remembering something. “Mabley’s Corner, you said?”
“Yeah.”
“I wonder how far that is from Mead.”
Ava shrugged. “Lucas said about fifteen miles.”
Caleb sat down heavily on the bed. “Thirty-five miles,” he murmured. “I’ve never gone that far before. No wonder it knocked me out.” He scrubbed his hands over his face.
“Thirty-five miles?” Ava repeated, eyes wide with shock. “What state are we in?”
“Nebraska.”
“And you . . .” she couldn’t believe the word forming in her mouth, but she couldn’t find another. “
Teleported
us here?”
Caleb chuckled slightly. “Well, like I said, we call it shifting.”
Ava stared at him blankly. Everything in her wanted to laugh at such a ridiculous notion, but here she was on a farm in Nebraska—thirty-five miles from the motel they’d been in the night before.
And they’d traveled the distance in the blink of an eye.
“How, exactly, did you do that?” she asked.
Caleb leaned over on the bed, scratching his stomach as he reached for his glasses. “It’s not easy to explain. It’s basically a visualization technique.”
“So you picture where you want to go?”
“Sort of,” he replied. “Like most things we do, it’s all about manipulating matter at the cellular level. It’s tougher when you don’t really have a place in mind, you know? I tried to get us a close as I could to Mead, but it’s not an exact science.”
Ava started to speak, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. At her invitation, Lucas poked his head through the door. “Everything okay?” he asked, his eyes darting to Caleb.
Ava smiled. “Lucas, hi. Yes, everything’s fine.” She glanced at Caleb. “This is Caleb. Caleb, Lucas Jordan.”
Caleb stood, crossing the room and extending a hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “I can’t thank you enough for helping Ava out when I was . . . incapacitated.”
Lucas shook his hand slowly. “Yes, she told me about your epilepsy.”
Caleb’s hand froze mid-shake for a split second, and Lucas glanced down, obviously noting it. “Yes,” Caleb said, ignoring his response. “It can be inconvenient at times.”
Lucas smirked, and Caleb knew he didn’t for a minute believe he was epileptic. “I can imagine.” Lucas released Caleb’s hand, turning to Ava. “Dinner’s ready, if you two are hungry. Then we can talk about tomorrow.”
They followed him out of the room, taking turns in the bathroom before heading into the kitchen. A pretty blonde woman with her hair gathered up in a clip turned from the stove, smiling broadly.
“You must be Ava,” she said, stirring something on the stove. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“It smells amazing,” Ava replied. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, I’ve got it handled,” she said, ladling some delicious-smelling stew into bowls. “You two just have a seat.” Ava and Caleb sat down with Lucas, who handed Ava a bowl of hot rolls.
She took one gratefully, setting it on a small plate before passing the bowl to Caleb. An awkward silence, broken only by the clink of china, fell over the room. Marley set two bowls in front of Caleb and Ava before returning for two more, sitting down next to her husband.
“We’re sorry for being so much trouble,” Caleb began.
Marley laughed. “You heard us, huh?”
Caleb shrugged, taking a bite of his stew. Apparently, eavesdropping wasn’t a huge sin to these people.