Controlling the Elements

by N. R. Spratlin

  “She’s curious and intrigued, but I haven’t picked up on any thoughts.” He replies. I take that as a sign of encouragement and pick up where I left off.

  “Now, with those extra shortcuts in our brains, it has allowed us to tap into earth and her elements per say, and manipulate them.” She chokes on her drink and I stop for a minute as Connor pats her back.

  “Well, she might have freaked with that one.” I cut my eyes to Tucker, frowning, because I don’t think the obvious needed to be stated.

  “You good?” Connor asks.

  “Yes, thank you.” She smiles hesitantly then turns back to me, “Please, keep going.” I take a moment to see if her thoughts would give her true feelings away, but it seems the one time we need to be able to read her, she has tampered them down.

  “Essentially, we are evolved humans. Nothing magical about it, but have a basic control over each of the elements you find in life. Water, Earth, Fire, Air, and Spirit.” I stop again giving her the opportunity to say something.

  “How?” She simply asks. Well, she’s not calling me a liar or laughing like it is a joke, I take that as a good sign.

  “The basic makeup of each of the elements can be found in our bodies. It doesn’t matter how big or small, the compound makeup is still there. Our brain wrinkles have found a way to tie us to it and allow manipulation.” I explain.

  “Really, just that easy?” She asks like she doesn’t believe me. I nod my head yes. “Well what does that have to do with me?” Ah, she hasn’t caught on.

  “Well, you, like your brother, are part of the evolved humans. We are called Mikroelementy; it means trace elementals in Russian, which is where we were first discovered.”

  “Hold on Deacon? Did he know about this?” She asks astounded.

  “Be careful, she just hit a spike of panic.” Tucker says. I nod my head in his direction. She catches the gesture and narrows her eyes at me.

  “What was that?” She asks. Shit, I need to finish explaining this first.

  “I will explain ‘that’,” I use air quotes, “in just a minute. But yes, Deacon knew. He was actually our first Manipulator. We were set to form an alliance with him before the accident.” She falls back into the dining room chair and takes a big gulp of the vodka; her hand trembling holding the glass. I give her time to process. I am in no rush; I want to make this as easy as possible for her.

  “So, he knew and never told me.” She shakes her head in what looks to me like aggravation, “He was supposed to tell me everything. And what is a Manipulator? I thought you said each of the Mikro whats-a-ma-call-its could manipulate something.”

  “Me-crow-element- ee. And yes, each of the Mikro can manipulate something. But a fully formed alliance, or group of Mikro containing each of the trace elements, has what they call a Manipulator. This person, for reasons we have yet to discover, and a few more of those short cuts can control every single trace element with the help of the alliance members.” I finish and just watch her. She has her forefinger tapping the glass she has sat on the table. She focuses on the table top, lost in thought.

  “So, if Deacon was your previous Manipulator, that means—"

  “—That you are our new one.” I finish for her leaning across the table and stretching my arm across it to grab her hand for comfort. Something I normally wouldn’t do, but I don’t stop to analyze that right now. I need to make sure she is okay with this. I squeeze her hand and she looks into my eyes.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her. She takes a few seconds before answering.

  “Yeah, I am. I mean I knew something weird was happening, I am honestly glad I am not crazy.” She chuckles, and the tension in the room breaks a bit. After a deep breath she finally admits, “The thing that shocked me the most is that Deacon knew and never told me. I mean I am one of the Mikro right? Shouldn’t I have known?”

  “That’s the thing; there is no record of a female Mikro, let alone a Manipulator.” I answer her honestly.

  “Why?” She asks me, sitting ramrod straight.

  “I wish I could tell you, but I am working hard to figure it out.” I assured her squeezing her hand again. She gives me a small smile.

  “One thing he forgot to tell you, when we align we can tap into each other’s minds and see what they are thinking or feeling.” Connor states with a smile.

  She sputters a second before responding, “So I never actually said that aloud earlier?” I shake my head no. Her eyes widen, looking to each of us in turn. “Well, umm, how do I turn this thing off?” She questions while tapping the side of her head. I smirk and respond.

  “I will give you some exercises to do to help strengthen your barrier, but as of right now it’s been holding perfectly fine for most of the conversation.”

  “Why can’t I hear you guys? Are your barriers up?”

  “No, you haven’t formed an alliance with each us yet, when you do, you will be able to hear us as well as we can hear you.” She nods her head, losing herself in thought once more. I am quite surprise on how well she is taking it all in.

  “So, thinking back on my encounters with you all, I can figure out what element most of you can control. I have yet to see yours though Connor.” She turns to him.

  “Oh, want me to show you? I am connected to water, here follow me.” He stands up, practically skipping as she follows him to the sink. I look to Tucker and stand up as well. We walk towards the doorway that leads to the upstairs and prop on either side of it keeping Dillon and Connor in our view. Connor gets to the sink and turns on the water and starts pulling on it to make a long liquid, frozen like rope that loops around Dillon. It always mesmerized me when he does that. Being able to see every single drop of water twisted together, no two drops are the same, much like snowflakes. I smile, now that is what she must see Connor do someday.

  Dillon watches intently, smiling a brilliant smile as she keeps turning around in the middle to observe it.

  “Well she took that quite well,” Tucker mumbles just loud enough for me to overhear.

  “I am still not convinced that she has yet, we will need to keep an eye on her.” I say and he mumbles his agreement. The sounds of footsteps on the stairs can be heard; Flint is bringing Lyon down. Perfect timing. I turn back to Connor and Dillon who must have heard as well, because he has turned the water off from the sink and the two of them are now ambling around the kitchen prepping things for dinner. She looks so at ease here, almost like she is at home.

  Something shifts in my chest and a warm feeling spreads through my body, I can’t help the feelings of wanting her and wanting to keep her smiling and laughing. I shake the thoughts out of my head.

  Why do women have to be so confusing?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Aunt Dill you’re silly. I thought witches weren’t supposed to be afraid of anything.” - Lyon

  Dillon

  I adjust my hat, feeling a bit silly now that I have chosen this outfit to go trick or treating in. I bite my lip.

  Would Flint think I look childish?

  I look down at myself, straightening out the invisible wrinkles on my dress only to start flicking imaginary lint of from my shoulder. I pause.

  Why am I even thinking of him anyway? What am I doing?

  I forcefully stop myself and shake my head. I turn back towards the hallway to make sure I have everything ready for Lyon. Speaking of which, he has been awfully quiet.

  "Hey Ly, are you almost ready? Mr. Flint should be here at any minute." I holler down the hall, only to be met with the sound of silence. I stiffen, automatically going on high alert, knowing something is a bit off.

  "Ly?" I call out again as I grab our bags and start walking towards the direction of the kitchen and to the stairwell that leads up to our rooms. About the time I make it past the pantry in the kitchen, the door of it busts open and a black blob comes flying out at me, I let out one of the most girlest screams I have ever let loose.

  "The Batman is always ready." Lyon proclaims sta
nding before me in his little black get up.

  "Oh crap, Ly, let's not do that again." I admonish him as I place my palm over my heart. Of course, Lyon thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that he got me. He bursts into a fit of high pitched giggles as he makes his way to the door to put on his new Batman sneakers I got him yesterday to keep in theme with his costume.

  "Aunt Dill, you’re silly. I thought witches weren’t supposed to be afraid of anything."

  "Well, everyone should fear Batman, right?" I question him, hoping to dig myself out of the hole I have now found myself in.

  "Yeah you’re right." he agrees while struggling to tie his shoes because of his black eye mask.

  "Honey, why don't you lift up your mask so you can tie your shoes better? It will make it easier." I make a motion to lift the hindrance away, but he promptly throws up his little hand to stop me.

  "No one is supposed to see the Batman's true identity" he warns.

  "I think you're secret is safe with me, Batman, it is just us in the house. I promise we will put it right back on before Mr. Flint gets here." He takes a moment to think about it then nods, grabbing the mask and sliding it up so that it sits on top of his head. He sticks out his left foot just as he starts to tie the right shoe. I laugh softly.

  I take it he wants the task done in a timely matter and needs my help. God forbid anyone ever discovering the identity of the Batman.

  Just as I’m tying the last knot to his double tie; the doorbell rings startling Lyon back into action mode.

  "Okay Aunt Dill that is enough!" he wiggles his little foot from my hand and slides his mask back in place, before he grabs his bag up and runs to the door.

  “Phew, that was a close one, the identity was almost compromised.” I shout after him, trying to hold in my laughter. Lyon looks over his should and nods his head empathetically. I bend down and decide to put on my special shoes I’ve spent all day creating.

  Thank you, Pinterest for last minute ideas. Well, Pinterest and obviously my freaky advanced genes for the idea.

  I stand up as I hear Lyon making sounds of awe and excitement at the door."Woah Flint, that is super cool."

  I smile at how happy he has been today, just in the anticipation of his new friend, Flint, coming trick or treating with us. I need to find a way to thank the man; I believe the partly drank vodka isn’t enough. I look down and straighten my dress one last time. I sigh, knowing it’s way too late to change now.

  As I reach the front door; the first thing I notice is black shoes, polished so shiny, that they are reflecting the lights of our hallways. I let my eyes slowly travel up to Flint’s shapely legs to see they are clad in grey slacks with a crease precisely in the front. Keeping my eyes moving upward, I take in a trim waist with a white shirt tucked in, not wanting to get caught staring at that particular region, I quickly move my eyes up to see the rest of his shirt partly unbuttoned, showing off the Superman top he wore last night. It clings to his body showing of his defined, but understated muscles. My cheeks heat automatically, because as soon as I get to his face, I stare into his blue and brown, mix matched eyes, through his black framed geek glasses. The glasses enhance the shape of his strong jaw and cheekbones, while also matching perfectly with his dark hair.

  And then there are those lips……Hell, I’m now converted from an Iron Man lover to Superman. Tony Stark, who?

  Its obvious Flint has caught me checking him out. A huge smirk overcomes his face, and then he laughs.

  "I thought we explained there is nothing magical about us?" He stares at my hat.

  Oh, right, he’s laughing at my outfit.

  To break eye contact, I hold onto my hat and do a little twirl letting the layers of purple and black fly out around me.

  "I couldn't help myself, it was too perfect! Don't you agree?" I look towards him, my smile slipping slightly; as I notice the laser like focus he has on the tussle bust of my garment. My stomach flips.

  I try not to give in the urge to cross my arms over my chest, trying very hard to appear relaxed, even though my body is heating up in ways it hasn’t in a long, long time.

  "I thought witches were supposed to be ugly and have big warts! You don’t have gross hairy warts and you’re not ugly Aunt Dill." Lyon stands there looking at me too with his little fists on his hips.

  "You are right Lyon, she can't possibly be a witch, and she is far too beautiful." Flint winks at me and I break eye contact once more, looking down, pretending to check out my home crafted shoe.

  I really hope the bits of hair that are loose cover the blush.

  He chuckles softly; I feel the heat raising more.

  "So where are we off to Lyon?" Flint finally gives my poor over heating cheeks a reprieve and squats down to gain Lyon's full attention.

  "Well, there is this really rich neighborhood that gives away full sized candy besides fun sized ones, we start there every year." His eyes light up, with which I’m sure is based on the anticipation of an upcoming sugar rush.

  "Yeah, I think I know the place," Flint smiles at me over Lyon’s shoulder; I guess Lyon hasn't connected it together yet that we were at their house in that neighborhood last night.

  "Alright are you ready to go?" I ask Lyon handing him his trick or treat bag. He promptly grabs another from me and hands it to Flint.

  "We are ready Aunt Dill!" He proclaims and takes Flint’s hand to start dragging him down the walk way leaving me to lock up.

  "Hurry up Aunt DIll!" Lyon shouts excitedly back to me.

  "Yeah, hurry up Aunt DIll!" Flint says over his shoulder, mocking Lyon’s voice, yet not quite managing it with the hint of his accent. Ly giggles, I snort, luckily, they are too far away to witness it. As they reach the sidewalk they turn, taking off in the direction of Flint's neighborhood.

  Whatever higher power is up there, I beg you to listen to my plea tonight. Do not let me make a fool out of myself, please!

  After the first thirty minutes of being dragged from house to house, I’m surprised Flint is still hanging in there. Lyon and his determination though makes sure to keep him on his toes, or more like a death grip on his hand as he pulls him in every which way.

  I’m not completely oblivious or surprised to the looks Flint in his Clark Kent get up is getting. There has been more than one occasion where he has bent down to talk to Lyon or to retie his laces and passing women have stopped to admire his firm backside.

  There was one woman in particular who had to be in her mid-forties, very attractive and put together. She was checking him out unabashedly for a good minute or so. When she eventually managed to take her eyes off from him, which was no easy feat, she looked up catching me, watching her. Instead of being embarrassed she instead gave me a sultry smile, a wink, then a thumps up all the while Flint was completely oblivious. I assume she thought we were together or something. Not knowing exactly what to do in that situation, I just smiled and winked back at her.

  I mean, I suppose from an outwards appearance we do look like we are out with our son. After that moment though, like usual, my brain goes on overdrive.

  He only agreed to come out tonight because Lyon asked him to, right?

  I keep my eyes on the ground as we shuffle to the next house deep in thought.

  “Hey, are you okay?” I look up to see Flint has stopped walking, I stop too. He brushes his hand down along my exposed arm. The sudden motion causes goose bumps to appear, I suppress a shiver. I would be lying if I said it never sent parts of me clenching; parts, that I had retired a long time ago.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I just about muster the reply out, while struggling to gather my wits. Once my wits come back I look up from the ground and into his eyes. My heart stutters.

  Are his eyes always that vibrant brown? They almost verge on caramel, like a piece of candy. The type I could get lost in the experience of eating. Eating? Oh no, I’m really losing it!

  None the less, I guess I smile enough of a reassurance to him because he smiles warmly back, he t
hen goes back to talking to Lyon, whom I haven’t even noticed standing there, already digging into his candy; chocolate smudged around his mouth. They have a full on discussion about their current goodies they gathered from the last house and what was best and why.

  I smile softly, my heart warming. Every time Lyon turns his head, Flint manages to slip some of his candy into Lyon’s bag, making sure that Lyon is winning the contest they have going on. I’m finding it extremely endearing. Knowing the way, the ladies have been checking him out at nearly every house we’ve stopped at, I’m sure Flint has been getting extra.

  Hell, if I had opened up my door to find him there I might have been tempted to slip extra goodies in his bag. Like my phone number, or panties. Either would work.

  I giggle at how ridiculous I sound. Someone would think I haven’t been around attractive men at all. Hmm, maybe the problem is that I need to get laid. How long has it been now? One or two years?

  I look to the guys and notice Flint has been watching me, he’s smiling. I wasn’t expecting it; I startle and trip over my fancy decorated pointy witch shoes. But before I can fall flat on my ass, Flint swoops in and grabs my waist to keep me from falling.

  Superman indeed!

  “Woah, steady there, I don’t want you to fall for me this way.” He says, amusement briefly touching his lips. I look directly into my eyes. I blink, feeling my pulse pound erratically. My chest grows heavier, my breathing picks up a bit. I’m not one to usually fall for such corny lines like the one he just dropped on me, but the way his arm wraps around my back and the firmness of his hand as he grips the side of my waist has my insides turning into lava. My skin has probably heated up to what I’m sure blotchy are patches of red. I suddenly become uncomfortable, letting out a girly breathless giggle; the type all girls think is attractive in high school when flirting.

  Where had that come from? I need to get a grip. What is the matter with me?

  I close my eyes and wish there is a way I can erase those last thirty seconds or maybe find a shovel to dig myself a very deep black hole and jump in. His chest starts to rumble against mine from deep laughter, the sound a loving caress to my ears.