Chapter 53: Back to School

Tatarabuela Gonzales, or at least the part of her consciousness that had been copied into my mind as my protection, regarded me steadily.

“You have questions?” she asked.

I did. A myriad of questions. The first of which was what the hell was she? Was she a consciousness within my own? A second personality? How was there even space in my head for the two of us? Did I need to worry about her trying to usurp control of my body from me?

I didn’t think so, but I didn’t know.

It seemed that I didn’t need to voice my concerns. She could hear my thoughts.

“What I am,” she said, “is a fragment of the consciousness of Elana Maria Theresa Gonzales. I was created originally to protect the children of the Gonzales line. I have a very limited capacity to act. I can access your powers to defend you against physical attacks within your body, I can neutralize poisons or drugs, and defend against mental attacks. I can even heal damage from physical attacks using your own healing powers, but only within you. I cannot affect anything outside of your body, even with your powers. I am always here, always awake, and always on guard. I see and hear everything you do. I know everything you do.

“Can you teach me about powers?” I asked. “About Compulsion?”

“You already know all you need to know,” she said. “If I could teach you, then that would mean that the knowledge you needed was within me, or more accurately already inside of your own head.”

“But...”

“You don’t need more knowledge. Your first teacher told you everything you needed to know, but you seem to have, if not forgotten it, disregarded it.

“He told you, for instance, about subtle Compulsion. He taught you how to get someone to do something, not by brute force but by nudges, slight little tweaks to their thoughts that make them WANT to do what you want them to. When did you last do this? Since you left his instruction, you have been training your strength, and your endurance, both of which are essential. But you have ignored the one thing that would make the greatest difference. Train more using subtlety and you will notice that your energy usage with Compulsion will decrease dramatically.

“Sadly, this doesn’t hold true for Healing. Since cells do not have conscious minds you can ‘tweak’ you do need to use force to Heal.”

I considered this. I remembered the lesson with John where we spoke about subtle Compulsion but then things seemed to go sideways and I simply fell back into imagining an outcome. Brute force.

“Also,” she went on, “Compulsion subjects, even willing ones, fight the Compulsion. It’s an instinctive reaction that cannot be suppressed. That is one reason it takes so much energy, is so easily detected, and leaves behind so much evidence. Subtle Compulsion, done right, is virtually undetectable. It takes almost no energy since you are not fighting with the subject to achieve your aims; rather you are, in effect, persuading them that they want to do, whatever it is that you want them to do.”

“I need to protect my girls,” I said, “especially the Norms. How can I do that? Ness nearly got raped again and I could do nothing to stop him.”

“You allowed his Compulsion to block your connection,” she said. “Granted you were further away, but you could have broken his Compulsion on Ness quite easily. All you needed to do was to Compel her yourself through the bond. That would have broken his control, and then you could simply release her and use the connection to deal with him, as you did with those boys all those months ago. Since you have a direct connection already established with the girls, Compelling them, even at distance, would be simple and would displace any other control held by anyone not so connected.”

I sat and thought about that for a few moments.

I was disappointed. I had thought that having the consciousness of the Tatarabuela Gonzales would have given me someone from whom I could learn so much, but she was right. If that was the case, I’d already have the knowledge in my head, why would I need to ‘speak’ to her to get it?

“I can’t give you any more than you already have,” she said, apparently hearing that thought too. “You speak Spanish because I know how. I didn’t have to teach you. But perhaps I can ask questions that you are already asking yourself, and help you to a better understanding of what you already know. For instance, why are you wasting so much resource during your hypnotherapy sessions?”

“Wasting resource?” I asked.

“You have hypnotised probably over a hundred different people, yes?” she asked, and I nodded.

“It is likely that each of those people,” she continued, “had some knowledge, or skill, that you do not. Why are you not taking those since you are already in their minds. You could have the ability to speak multiple languages, have sat practically every single course that your university provides, and learned about all kinds of things. And yet you sit there, twiddling your thumbs and wasting your time, with them.”

“I...” I began. Why was that. I could say that it would be a violation, but what exactly would I be violating. It’s not like I would be taking anything from them, or prying into their personal or private lives. I could easily extract all the memories of a specific subject exactly as I had with Daisy and her cooking. I didn’t have a moment’s hesitation in doing that, and my hypnotherapy clients signed a very similar waiver. I could have already learned so much.

“You spend so much time agonizing over morality and ethical issues,” she continued. “This is time wasted. Jeevan summed it up in a simple question. Are you causing harm? If the answer to that question is ‘yes’, then stop and re-evaluate your actions. There may be excellent reasons why it’s right, at that time, to cause harm, but if the answer is ‘no’, then there is nothing more to consider.

“I am not suggesting you approach people in the street and start rummaging around in their heads for their knowledge, but all of your hypnotherapy patients have consented, in a fashion, to you entering their minds. You need to be in there in any case to help them. You are not violating them further, if you take a copy of their learning, or knowledge, at the same time.”

It kind of made sense in a twisted logical sort of way. I determined to think on this further and, perhaps, in the next hypnotherapy session look to see what I might learn from my client.

“Practice subtle Compulsion,” she said. “Stop hitting everything with the biggest hammer you have and perhaps use a scalpel for a change. Practice on Josh and Louise. You need to get to where they do things and do not even know you compelled them. This will, of course, not feed their fantasies, but you have done enough of that. Like your TK, your Compulsion is about as strong as it’s going to get. Over the next few years you may gain ten percent more power, but that will be as much as you will ever have. It is time to practice skill and, more importantly, stealth.”

And with that she, once again, kicked me out of my own illusion. I would have to ask her how she did that, but then realized that I already knew.

I looked at my watch – it was just after five. I decided to go for a run.

“What are you doing today?” I asked Ness over breakfast. I wasn’t sure if the previous day’s events had changed things at her college.

“We’ve been called in to a cadre meeting,” said Ness. “Apparently the cadre leader has left the college ... they didn’t say why ... and we need to meet our new leader and get our schedules.”

I thought about that. I wondered what Maggie had told the college about the professor and why he had been arrested, and what the college was going to do about it. Since none of the students, apart from Ness, remembered the incident, I thought that they might simply continue on as if nothing happened. I couldn’t figure out what the alternatives were.

The other girls had classes today, and so, technically, did I. I’d already decided that, once again, I would attend my Ethics classes, as there was a mandatory attendance criterion, but would simply read the material and do any assignments and exams for the others. If I ran into any problems, which I didn’t envision, I would reevaluate my attendance position.

Gracie had an appointment with Dianna to assess her mental state following the attack. She was looking forward to getting back into things.

Mary had asked for permission to start scheduling hypnotherapy appointments, and I had provisionally said yes having given her my school schedule. My first appointment would be the following day after my Ethics class.

After everyone had left, I hit the internet looking for contractors. I wanted someone I could trust to come and do the job without having to be supervised. Since we were all in school, and I had a full calendar, I was hoping to get someone we’d be able to leave to get on with it without us having to be here.

I realized that this might be a pipedream but I was at least willing to give it a try. If not, we’d have to make other arrangements.

I spent the morning making calls and managed to set up a couple of people to come and look at the job that afternoon.

Having gotten that underway, I sat down on the deck, pulled out the first of my textbooks, and started to read.

I kind of lost track of time, and was jerked out of my concentration, having read about a quarter of my textbook, when I heard someone knocking at the door.

When I opened it there was a guy standing there in a suit holding some kind of tablet computer. Outside, parked on the road, was a BMW that looked like a five or seven series from where I stood.

“Mr. Stott?” he said. I nodded.

“Avery Cameron,” he said. “Blackheath Construction. I believe you spoke to one of our sales team this morning about some remodelling you wanted a price on?”

I was surprised.

I’d deliberately not called what I considered big companies and yet it seemed that I’d gotten one in any case. Perhaps they were wise to people wanting to hire local so were masquerading as a local company to get their foot in the door.

“Come in,” I said. Since he was here, I figured I may as well get a price from him. It would give me a starting point at least.

I showed him around and, as he took measurements, he was constantly tapping the screen of his computer.

“Small job,” I heard him think. “I can put Hernandez’s team on it. Let’s see if they can get something right for a fucking change. If it all goes ass up, then it’s no big loss.”

I decided then that I’d not be hiring this guy.

He smiled at me.

“Perfect,” he said. He looked at his tablet and tapped a couple more times. “You’re in luck. I have a cancellation, which means I’ve a team standing idle starting Monday. I could squeeze you in right away. Your job should only take about two weeks.”

“Or two fucking months if that useless wetback performs to his usual standard,” he thought. “It won’t matter though; if he screws this up, I’ll finally have the excuse to fire his ass.”

He smiled at me again. “Shall I book you in?”

“You still haven’t told me the price,” I said.

He tapped a few more times on his tablet and then turned it to face me. I was surprised at the figure. I’d been expecting more.

“To start with,” he thought.

“I have to discuss it with my fiancée,” I said. “Can you email met the quote so I can show her?”

“I can only hold this price if you use the cancelled slot,” he said. “I have a couple more appointments today, so if one of those decides they want to go ahead...” he left the threat hanging.

I smiled and spread my hands. “Sadly, I can’t make the decision without her. We’ll just have to take the chance.”

He sighed and nodded. “I’ll get the office to send you the quote.”

I showed him out. He shook my hand. “Nice doing business with you,” he said. I realized why when I saw another vehicle parked in front of the house. It was a contractor’s van, and there was someone just getting out of it.

He turned and strode off to his BMW and got in, taking a moment to tap on his tablet again before driving away.

“Mr. Stott?” I looked at the person who had walked up the drive and was surprised to see a woman. She looked to be in her late twenties, perhaps early thirties. She was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and a sleeveless vest jacket with a number of pockets.

“Marcia Grey,” she said holding her hand out, “we spoke on the phone?”

I remembered talking to her. I had thought that I was talking to a secretary, not to the actual contractor. I smiled at her and shook her hand.

I immediately liked Marcia Grey. She had a plain face, eyes a little too far apart, and nose a little too big, but she had a ready smile, although I sensed some tension behind it.

“It looked like you and Mr. Cameron had reached agreement,” she said. “Did you still need me to look at the job?”

“Please say yes, please say yes,” I heard her think.

“Can I be honest with you?” I asked her and she nodded.

“I wouldn’t hire that slimeball if HE paid ME.” I grinned at her.

I felt some tension leave her. And she grinned back.

“Let me guess,” she said. “He just happened to have a cancellation meaning he could start your job Monday?”

“You’ve read his script?” I asked and she laughed.

“Kind of. I’ve followed after him a couple of times. You’d be surprised how often people fall for that line.”

“So, you don’t have a cancellation starting Monday?” I asked.

“I already finished my last job,” she said. “I’m a one-woman operation. I don’t take on more than I can handle. I’ve got a job due to start in a month, so thought I could fit you in if we can reach agreement.”

“You work alone?” I asked and she nodded.

“I occasionally hire day labourers, but not often. I find they are more trouble than they are worth. It takes me a little longer sometimes, but I’d rather do it myself and get it right.”

“What about lifting and shifting heavy stuff?” I asked.

“I manage,” she said, and despite my feelings of trust, I felt that she was hiding something.

“Come on in and take a look at what we’re looking for,” I said. She smiled and followed me into the house.

I showed her around and told her what our goal was. She suggested that we could actually create ensuites into both rooms, putting a shower, washbasin, and toilet in each. We would lose four feet off each of the three rooms to provide what would feel like remarkably spacious ensuites. She said that the middle room, which was Gracie and Dana’s, would require a whole new floor, but the other two we could get away with just lifting it back, if we were careful. The exterior wall of the first bathroom could have a window if we wanted, but the other one would need proper venting. In truth they both would, or we’d have a problem with dampness and mold.

I made coffee while she went out to her truck and brought back some bathroom fittings brochures for me to choose from. She said that she could leave them with me so that my fiancée could choose and tell me which ones I had to buy. She grinned at me as she said that.

I still had the feeling that she was keeping something from me, but as strange as it was, I didn’t feel that it was truly a deception. It felt more like something personal to her that she didn’t want to reveal. My thoughts immediately went to Dana, and I wondered if Marcia too was trans. Not that it was relevant, or even any of my business.

“Okay,” I said, “enough of the soft soap, do I need to sit down for this bit?”

“Perhaps even lie down,” she said. “In fact, I’d call EMT’s to be on standby.”

I laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be telling me how cheap it’s going to be?”

“I don’t lie to my customers,” she said. “It isn’t going to be cheap. But, it will add value to the house. Most of the space you are losing in the bedrooms is actually not useful space in any case. People like ensuites these days and a five bed/five bath will sell easier than a five bed/three bath.”

“Now you’re stalling,” I deadpanned. She laughed.

“Depending on the fittings you choose,” she qualified, “materials will cost between this and this.” She’d jotted a couple of figures down. That number in and of itself was more than Avery Cameron had quoted for the entire job. That didn’t surprise me.

“And labor?” I asked.

I could see the wheels turning in her head. She wanted this job, but she had bills to pay. I saw her think of a number, and then start to figure out how to trim it down. Eventually she wrote a number down that was significantly lower. I wondered why she would work for so little money.

I shook my head. “That doesn’t really work for me,” I said.

She chewed her lip for a second. And wrote down another number, a few thousand less.

I shook my head again. She sighed.

“Rather than all this,” I said, “why don’t I set a figure, and you see if you can work with it.”

“Okay,” she said, handing me the pen.

I wrote a number, or rather THE number. The one she’d originally come up with. That was what she really needed to earn to make doing the job worthwhile and to meet her own commitments ... to live.

I turned the paper toward her.

She frowned.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “That’s more than...”

“I’d be pissed at you,” I said, “if you short changed me on my job, if you used substandard materials, or if you performed shoddy work. I expect quality work, therefore I expect to pay quality prices.”

She sat back in her seat for a moment and looked at me.

“Well,” she said, “that’s not something you hear every day. Most people want the quality work but aren’t prepared to pay for it.”

“Well, I am,” I said. “But that means I definitely expect to get the quality work. Does that work for you?”

She smiled. “That definitely works for me,” she said. “Question, are you in a HOA or is there one on the street? Do I need to apply for permission from the local Fuhrer to do my job?”

“No,” I said. “There’s no HOA. There is a guy across the street who likes to be in everyone’s business, but he shouldn’t bother you.”

“Okay then,” she said. “I’ll print up the quote and contract and email it to you as soon as I get home. If you’re happy, or more importantly your fiancée is happy, sign on the dotted and send it back. I can start Monday. I’ll need to know by close of business tomorrow either way, not for any other reason than it takes a few days to organise a dumpster and the permits to put it on the road. I presume you don’t want it carving up your driveway?”

“I’d rather it not,” I said.

“Then,” she replied standing up, “I’ll get out of your way. All things being equal, I’ll be here Monday morning at eight to start work. It would help if you could clear all the furniture out, if possible. I can work around some of it in the outer rooms, but I really need the middle room clear to lift the floor and lay the new one.”

Just then, the front door opened and all four of my girls entered, followed by Dana.

“Marcia,” I said standing also. “Perfect timing. I’d like to introduce you to Mary, Amanda, Jules, Ness and Dana.”

Marcia looked from girl to girl, her mouth slightly open. I felt a wash of arousal from her, especially when she looked at the twins.

Amanda grinned at her “Nice to meet you, Marcia,” she said. “I hope he’s not been giving you too much of a hard time.”

“Not at all,” Marcia answered. “He’s been a pleasure to deal with. I’ve given him some brochures for you guys to look at.”

“Actually,” I said, “Dana and Gracie should choose what will be going in their room,” I said. “The other I guess Ness...”

Marcia looked from girl to girl.

“I’d best be going,” she said. “I’ll send that paperwork this evening. If you’re happy, please let me know, and if so, I’ll see you Monday.”

“Perfect,” I said. She held her hand out to me again, and we shook. I walked her to the door and let her out.

“Well,” said Mary, “she’s nice.”

“I think she liked you two,” I said. Mary and Amanda both grinned. “We saw,” she said.

“Hell, even I saw,” said Ness. “She practically creamed her panties when she saw you.”

“Well,” said Mary, “Who knows. If she does a good job, maybe we’ll give her a little bonus.”

Dana, standing off to one side, shook her head, a small smile on her face.

It seemed that My Ethics professor hadn’t lost his line into my life.

“Last week,” he said, “my neighbour had to have his dog put to sleep. The poor thing had cancer and the vet said that it was the kindest thing to do. There are very few people who argue that when an animal is in that much distress, that it is wrong to end their suffering. Yet there are only eleven states in the US where physician assisted dying is legal. The prima facie case is that people’s lives are more important than animals, although there are millions of animal lovers who would disagree, and a huge number of animal rights activists who have, indeed, taken human lives to protect animals. But that aside, how is it that we cannot stand to watch the suffering of a pet, but are prepared to watch members of our own species, our own kind, our own families, suffer terribly and not offer them the same respite we would give a stray dog?”

That promoted a storm of responses. I sat back, thinking about Maud, of how we’d helped her. Then I heard the argument that I knew would come up.

“It says in the bible, Thou shalt not kill,”

“For a book that says thou shalt not kill,” I said, “There are a lot of death sentences; Luke 19:27 killing defeated enemies, Second Chronicles 15:12 killing unbelievers, Deuteronomy 17, killing heretics, Leviticus 20:13 killing homosexuals, and 20:10 killing adulterers, Exodus 22;19 the punishment for bestiality? Death.”

Religion and the bible had come up a lot in ethics and it seemed to be everyone’s backstay. I’d decided that in order to be able to argue against the people who blindly quoted it, I needed to know what was in it, so I read it.

I’d also read the Quran and, just for shits and giggles, the Book of Mormon.

“So which bit of the bible do we believe?” I asked. “The bit that says not to kill, or the swathes of it that condone, advocate, and even orders killing?”

“Let’s not get side-tracked,” said the professor. “For the purposes of this debate we will ignore the theist argument. Let’s approach this from a legal standpoint. Why is it legal in 11 states in the US and not in the others?”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” I said, “but you cannot separate the two. Religion is precisely why so many states in the US have refuse to make physician-assisted death legal. To instruct us to ignore the theist argument removes eighty percent of the argument against.”

The professor grinned at me.

“That still leaves twenty percent,” he said. “Let’s hear those arguments.”

“There’s a risk that it could be used for nefarious purposes,” said Dana, “for example, families could kill off their aged relatives for the inheritance.”

“That would be easily countered,” I said, “with the correct checks and safeguards.”

“I take it, Mr Stott,” said the professor, “that you are in favour of euthanasia?”

“I’m not in favour,” I said, “of having someone I love living out their last days or more, in fear, desperation, and tearing agony, when, as you said at the beginning, we wouldn’t allow a stray dog to suffer in such a way. Once I was certain that there was no way back, and that was what they wanted, then the law, the church, and all of those busybodies who like to insert themselves into others’ lives, for no other reason than to validate their own sad little existence, would not stop me from doing what I thought was right.”

The professor looked at me for a long second. The entire room was silent.

“Caleb,” said Dana as we left the room. “Are you all right?”

I smiled at her, a little wearily, and nodded as we walked down the corridor. She took my hand and pulled me to a stop, turning me toward her.

“That sounded personal in there,” she said. “Was there someone...?”

I shook my head. “I just get sick of the bible bashers,” I said, “trying, and succeeding, in running my life. If they want to believe in their imaginary friend, then that’s their choice. The fact that their imaginary friend’s rules are forced upon me and mine really really pisses me off.”

She looked at me for a second and then nodded. We began walking and went into the cafeteria to get some lunch.

I had my first hypnotherapy session after lunch. The guy, who came alone, against instruction, was short, and very fat. He was also very obviously Chinese. I wondered if he knew the language.

It turns out he did, Cantonese at least, and after the session, I had a headful of memories which meant that after a couple of days, so would I.

I didn’t try and take anything from my next client, since I would run the risk of overflowing my short-term memory and losing the Cantonese I had stolen from the first, so instead I simply read from my textbook while he and his chaperone ‘napped.’

One thing I found about learning languages this way was that you learned not only the language, but the slang and idioms that were the difference between a native speaker and a foreigner who learned to speak the language. Once I’d assimilated it, I would speak Chinese as if I’d grown up there. I also found out that Cantonese was a very satisfying language to swear in.

The rest of the week passed without incident. I had several hypnotherapy sessions but, since I had still not assimilated the mass of information I had taken from the Chinese guy, I didn’t take anything from any of them. I was beginning to think that I’d bitten off more than I could chew, and that I would start to lose the information as time wore on, but by Saturday morning I had finally ‘gulped down’ the last of his memories. My short-term storage was now in the process of clearing the backlog. That included all the reading I’d done and I’d been concerned that I might lose some of that too.

We spent all day Saturday moving the furniture out of the bedrooms that were going to be remodelled. Jules also sheeted up and taped off her workbench and cleared a load of junk from the other side of her workroom. I wasn’t sure how she’d managed to accumulate so much, but it took a trip to the city dump to get rid of it.

Most of the furniture we managed to put in the attic space, but there were one or two items that wouldn’t fit through the access. Those items we put in the garage and covered them with plastic to keep them clean.

It had been decided earlier in the week that we would go up and see Nana Babi on Sunday. Josh and Louise took Louise’s car, and the rest of us piled into my truck. Traffic was light and we made the trip in just under two hours.

When we pulled into the driveway, the front door opened, and Claire stood there with a beaming smile on her face. We all piled out of our vehicles and went to give her a hug. There was something different about her. She seemed far more relaxed than she had been previously.

“Nana Babi has been looking forward to you coming since you told me,” said Claire as we walked across the entrance hall, and into the room where the old woman sat. Once again, she had a book in her lap.

We all went in, and Louise and Josh both went over to the old girl and gave her a hug. Once they were done, I too went and hugged the old buzzard. I really liked Nana Babi and it had nothing to do with the huge gift she’d given me for my birthday. She was a no-nonsense person with whom you knew exactly where you stood.

Once the greetings were over, we sat down, and Nana Babi picked up a little bell and rang it.

I’d not noticed that bell before and wondered about it. Claire was sitting in a chair off to the side, and she didn’t react to the bell.

The door behind Nana Babi opened and Keenan entered.

He was dressed in a French maid’s uniform, complete with frilly hat, black thigh length dress with a white apron over the front. He was wearing fishnet stockings and kitten heel shoes. He looked livid.

I had to check, and found that he wasn’t actually under any form of Compulsion, but there were some constraints applied to his mind. I would have to ask Nana Babi about those.

“Yes, Mistress?” Keenan said, bobbing a curtsy.

“Tea for our guests,” she said.

“Yes, Mistress,” he said again and bobbed another curtsy before leaving the room.

“He signed up for it,” she said before I could ask. “He and I had a long chat after your birthday. I told him that that kind of behavior was not acceptable, and I would no longer consider him a part of my family unless he did some things to atone. He had the choice to serve as my maid for five years, or I would completely disown him and cut him out of my will.”