Chapter 4: Reservations and a Show

Natalie joined us for dinner at another well-known New Orleans restaurant, and once again, the meal was excellent. I must say I was enjoying the food on this trip tremendously. The women groused about how much they'd have to work to burn off all the calories, but I could tell they enjoyed it, and none of them were that heavy, so eating a rich meal wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway. As for myself, I had a very high metabolism, so I pretty much had to eat continually just to maintain my current weight. Cate also 'suffered' from this affliction, but for her it was an advantage because it helped her stay thin and looking good without having to work too hard at it. I guess our shared metabolism is what gave her all that excess energy she used to obsess about every little detail of her studies.

There weren't any more encounters after that one with Patricia, though Natalie had fun pointing out the few women we saw like her who were attracted to me without knowing why, but who were not quite compelled to go any farther. I think she felt lucky to have been pulled into our group, and enjoyed counting everyone of a similar state who didn't get included.

The conversation was light for a change. Natalie told Cate how she'd frequently relate to people based on her feelings about them, which only prompted further discussions on the topic. Neither Mom nor Dad had much to contribute, leaving most of the theorizing to Cate. I couldn't decide if they felt ill equipped for the discussion or they still didn't believe it, but they seemed content to merely tag along and absorb everything going on around their son. I guessed we'd need to have a long discussion at some point, but until then I was content to just go with the flow, dealing with whatever questions were directed at me and just trying to ignore the whole issue. However, it's kind of hard to avoid a discussion when you're the central topic and everyone keeps looking to you for your input.

After another fine New Orleans culinary experience, we wandered the streets enjoying the sights and sounds. I hoped that we had already met everyone like Shani and Patricia that we were going to, but deep down I knew that we still had a long time in New Orleans and there were plenty of people around, which raised the odds that I would attract more women. Plus, given the sheer number of people who travelled into and out of the city every day, I would surely encounter more even if I'd already discovered everyone who calls the city home.

Shani and Natalie made excellent tour guides and we learned a lot. As I wasn't a big history buff, I wasn't as fascinated by the history as my parents seemed to be, but I was far more interested in the people. Being from such a small town I wasn't used to all the activity or the variety of people crowded into such a small area.

Finally the sun sank below the surrounding buildings, night descended, and more of the various clubs started coming alive, so we made our way to Patricia's club. It was nice being able to walk into a smoky nightclub for a change, even if it was with my parents. It made me feel like an adult despite being years from being able to drink. I'm sure Cate must have felt it even more than I. When we told the doorman who we were, he immediately called the manager who personally escorted us to a table only a few feet from the stage and just slightly off center. I felt like the life of the party—my name had never been able to open doors before. Heck, I had never been invited anywhere before.

The manager, a large black man named Oliver, told us that we were considered VIPs and to feel free to ask for anything we wanted. He introduced us to our waitress, a slim woman named Nancy who sported a wild mane of multi-colored hair, who revealed that Patricia had been talking non-stop about me all afternoon. Nancy brought Dad and Natalie a beer, Mom a Long Island Iced tea and Shani a Mojito. Shani's choice impressed me, and made me wonder if I wasn't unintentionally sending her some kind of message, as that'd be the type of drink I'd choose if I could, and I wasn't entirely convinced it was a simple coincidence. Cate and I stuck with the basic diet soda, not daring to risk asking for anything alcoholic with both our parents sitting only a few feet away.

The club quickly filled with all types of people, from regulars to locals and tourists alike. The bar was smoky, and apparently the anti-smoking laws hadn't taken hold here yet. Still, as much as I hated the idea of smelling like smoke when we were done, I considered it a part of the atmosphere: a dark and smoky blues club attracting trouble in an exotic locale. It was everything I'd always imagined a bar should be—and it was certainly better than the crummy joints the kids at school hung out at.

Just before the show started Henry came out to check on us. He told us that 'Patty' was really nervous about our being here. "This is the first time I've seen her this nervous before a performance," he remarked. "Normally she loves performing, but she just can't stop thinking about you and what you'll think of her performance. I just hope you don't screw up her confidence," he said, staring at me as if I was personally threatening her career.

Despite how often Henry tossed the name 'Patty' around, I'd made it a point not to use it myself, assuming that it was a private thing between the two of them. Since she'd introduced herself as Patricia, that's what I'd call her. If she wanted me to use something else, she'd tell me. But the fact that Henry kept throwing it around in front of everyone just annoyed me for some reason.

Still, I felt bad for both of them, once again feeling that I'd somehow inserted myself into their lives. Yet beyond my sympathy there wasn't much I could do about it. Yet Henry was nice, making sure we were comfortable before hurrying back to help Patricia prepare.

Finally the bar lights dimmed, and we settled in for the show as the stage lights came on. Patricia's band took the stage and showed off a bit. I noticed a table near ours with several girls sitting around it that Patricia had mentioned housed the various groupies that the band members had attending most shows. Patricia came on last to a nice round of applause—apparently she was popular with the people here despite not being a local act. She strode up and took over the stage.

"Thank you," she said simply as she took her microphone in her hand in a move that looked surprisingly intimate, as if she was born for this kind of thing. "Tonight there is someone special in the audience, someone to whom I would like to dedicate this performance." I felt my stomach drop as I realized what she was about to do, and I started thinking 'Don't do it, don't do it' over and over, only to realize that it may be reaching her, but she never showed any effect. Luckily she didn't introduce me, though, but instead just launched into her set.

She had a guitar but she mostly just sang, really belting out the blues in a low, husky voice that reeked of pain and loss and long, dark nights of the soul. She started with a song called "My Heart Bleeds the Blues", and then promptly segued into "Don't Lie To Me", apparently both fairly common staples of the genre. Although I'd heard several blues songs and generally liked most of them, I hadn't been a particular fan of the music before, but when Patricia started to put her heart into it I could feel her emotions fill the room as she belted them out for everyone to hear. I noticed that in the beginning she tried to sing to me (or at least our table), but she soon started addressing the rest of the room as well. I assume my physical 'glare' was proving too distracting, so she was eventually forced to sing primarily to the other side of the room. During a particularly heartfelt ballad she left the stage and began to wander around the room. As she walked by me she put her trembling hand on my shoulder and sang to the room, facing away while holding me. As strange as it sounds, it seemed like her touching me like that filled her with confidence and her voice rose in volume.

As the set rolled on we applauded wildly after each song and even joined in as the audience shouted their approval, calling out, echoing the refrain of the songs. The set went on for what felt a long time, but finally she wrapped it up with a "Thank you, and good night!" before she and the band disappeared backstage to thunderous applause. The house lights came up and shortly afterward Nancy brought out a fresh round of drinks, telling us that Patricia would be out momentarily. I could tell that, while she might not have told the waitress everything, Patricia had told Nancy enough so that spent most of her time watching me, trying to see what was so special about me.

Patricia showed up soon after, but was immediately swarmed by several well-wishers. After speaking to them briefly, she finally came over to the table with Henry in tow, gave me a quick kiss, and pulled up a chair.

"So what'd y'all think?" she asked excitedly.

"We thought it was excellent," my normally reticent father conceded.

"Wonderful!" gushed Natalie.

"I could tell you really felt each word you sang," Cate added. I could tell Patricia enjoyed the comments, but based on the way her eyes kept sliding back in my direction, I knew she was primarily concerned with my opinion.

"It was unbelievable," I told her honestly. "You poured your soul out and I felt both depressed at the lyrics while uplifted by the melody. I'm really proud of you," I beamed.

Her smile lit up the table as a look of relief rolled over her. She practically squirmed in her seat with pleasure.

"Thanks, I was worried what you'd think," she explained. "It was odd, the feelings I was getting from you really cut me off from feeling the audience. I couldn't tell what they were feeling, so I had to look away. Still, it's like trying to listen to someone whisper during a rock concert." She leaned back in her chair and hooked an arm over the back, letting her hand dangle as she looked just past me in an attempt to keep from being blinded by my glow. "Finally I knew I had to do something else, so I tried to use my new vision. I tried to get all the auras to sync up. I'm not sure if we've properly explained what they're like," she told everyone at the table as she straightened and leaned forward, speaking directly to Cate who she knew would appreciate it the most, "but each person's seems to be different. Their core color seems to remain steady, but the various colors around that core vary, so I tried to focus on that and tried to get more of them to feel what the rest were. I think I did a fairly good job, but it's hard to judge things when you're unused to the medium," she laughed.

"You handled it wonderfully," my mother told her. "The audience loved it."

"That's what a couple of the regulars told me. It was really great being able to share my talents with you!" she gushed, taking my hands in hers. "Somehow knowing you were there listening made the whole evening special and I put more emotion into my singing than I normally do."

I turned and glanced at Henry, expecting him to take offense, but he seemed to have figured out what I was thinking.

"Hey, don't worry man," he said with a grin and a dismissive wave of his hand. "If she performs that well because of your inspiration, you can inspire her all you want. She was wonderful tonight. If she can keep this up I can start pushing the club owners for a few more bucks."

We continued to chat, frequently interrupted by other well-wishers who stopped by the table to sing Patricia's praises. I could tell Cate was dying to press her for more details on what she'd said about her new abilities, but we didn't have the privacy or the time. We stayed through the next set and again applauded wildly as she seemed even better than her first, but Dad left word with Nancy and Henry that we had to be heading off. Henry admitted that she'd miss us. "But I have the feelings she's going to appreciate the chance to see how she performs using these new techniques without you being here to distract her," he added with a smile. He thanked us wholeheartedly and went so far as to shake my hand as we departed.

The streets outside were crowded and noisy as we returned to the hotel. Shani walked with my parents while Natalie enveloped me in a big hug. "I'm sorry, I wish I could stay longer," she said as she gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "But I've got an early shift tomorrow, and I need to get some sleep so I can be ready for work." She paused, and then continued, as if she felt it necessary to explain herself. "I work the morning shifts so that I've got much of the rest of the week off." She leaned in and whispered, "That way I can spend more time with you guys." She then gave Cate a quick, perfunctory hug, gave me another tight one, and then bounded off into the crowd with a bright wave.

I turned my attention back to Shani and my parents leading the way a few feet in front of Cate and me. I had the distinct impression that Shani was being especially attentive to my parents, probably hoping to positively influence them and allay any fears they might have about her. I think she thought like Patricia did, that ultimately it only mattered what I thought and she would spend time with me no matter what anyone else said. Still, I liked the fact that she went out of her way to include them. It also had an added bonus—with the 'grown-ups' talking intently among themselves, it left time for Cate and I to converse privately.

"Cate?" I quietly asked as we walked. I was feeling pretty good, the evening having been largely free of the concerns that had been plaguing me since we first arrived in the city. However, now that the distractions of our restaurant crawl and Patricia's concert were largely over, my worries were returning with a vengeance.

"Yeah?" she quietly replied.

"I'm kind of freaked out by all this shit," I admitted. I slowed my pace a bit, allowing us to drop a bit further back from the adults walking ahead of us.

"No shit!" she stated emphatically with a wave of her hand, pantomiming shock at my superfluous revelation. "Who'd ever thunk it possible? You're in the middle of a significant scientific, cultural and personal change and you're nervous?" Perhaps sensing my mood, she moved closer and regarded me more seriously.

"It's not just how weird this is. I'm a little scared of Shani," I explained, nodding to the woman deep in conversation with our parents. "She's pretty intense. I've been on a total of five dates, and here she is talking about giving up her life and family for me, someone she only met a day ago." I stared up at the few dim stars above the city and thought about how complicated my life had recently become.

"Actually it's only two dates," Cate rudely corrected as she counted on her fingers, "You dated Melissa Ryder when you were both freshmen and Lisa what's-her-name last year. Group dates don't count."

"Her name was Lisa Turner. And the only reason we didn't go on any more was because her family moved to Indianapolis," I reminded her, annoyed she'd point out my unsuccessful attempts with women. "But how many have you been on?" I challenged defensively. I instantly regretted my heated response—while Cate may have been younger, she was nowhere near as unpopular as I was, and had gone on quite a few.

"I've been around the block," she answered. "I'm not quite as terminally shy as you. Plus it's easier for girls," she added with a smirk as she gripped my upper arm. "Every guy in the world asks us out in the hope we'll say yes, whereas you guys have to work up the nerve to ask. That ultimately means the offensive jerks end up having a better shot than the nice quiet guys." She'd grown more eloquent in the relative quiet that enveloped us after the recent din of the club, but I simply chalked her wordiness up to nervousness. She got that way whenever we discussed something awkward.

"Honestly, how would you react if this handsome older man suddenly appeared in front of you, professing utter devotion, calling you an Angel and treating you like a demigod?" I asked, ready to pour my heart out. Well, maybe not my heart—I always disliked guys who gushed—but at least I gave voice to my fears.

"Honey," she drawled in a fake Southern accent, "he'd better call me 'Angel' if'n he knows what's good for 'im." I couldn't help but laugh at her confident, sassy response—presented with such a god-awful imitation. "And he'd better treat me like a demigoddess," she continued, "otherwise we're going to have trouble."

She dropped her female goddess act and took on a more somber tone. "Seriously though, I can see the stress, but it's not like you're in this alone," she said quietly. At my mumbled response she bumped my hip with hers. "Hey, you've got me, and you've got Becky who can help me do testing on you when we get home. You have Shani and Mom and Dad. We'll all get through it," she explained, valiantly trying to console me.

"I don't know. Right now I'm pretty nervous. Tell you what, though, I want you to promise not to tell her where we live," I insisted, looking into her eyes so I could measure her response to my request.

"What? How's she supposed to find us then?" my sister asked, suddenly concerned for the source of my fears, rather than for her brother who was suffering from them.

"That's the point. I'm not sure I want her coming home with us," I stated with a false note of finality. I knew she'd never let it rest with a simple declaration on my part.

"It's not like she couldn't just Google it," Cate argued.

"Yeah, I should have thought of that before and given her a false name, but it's too late now." Geez, you just never think to lie to a person while they're clutching your leg, on their knees in the middle of a city calling you Master. It just never occurs to you to invent fake names beforehand. If only I'd thought to create a fictitious background before leaving home, I mock scolded myself in exasperation over an impossible situation.

"Look, I'm not sure I can do that to her," Cate replied, almost beseechingly while she glanced at the subject of our discussion. She didn't look happy at the prospect of treating a new friend badly. I knew she felt that Shaniqua was important to my potential future, but that didn't change the way I felt about the situation.

"Come on, you're my sister," I complained. "You're supposed to help me." I couldn't understand why she wouldn't support me in this. She had for much of our lives—if I discounted all the times she wasn't tormenting me, that is.

"I'm not so sure this is helping," she replied. "Personally I think it's a terrible idea."

"Still, I want the option to make my own decisions, not have them thrust upon me. This is my life we're talking about."

"Yes, it's your life and your decision, but it's the wrong decision," she lectured me, frowning.

"And that's for me to decide; not you and not her." I wasn't happy and I was getting fed up as well. Here was one woman deciding I should be the center of her life, and my sister was fully supporting her in her delusion. Well, I just wasn't ready for that level of responsibility. I'm not ready to be a daddy or a husband or leader of people with new abilities. I was just a kid and my only plans are to attend college in the fall. My main aim was to avoiding attracting attention that could screw up my college plans, and this seemed like it would require a lot of explaining.

"Well what about Patricia and Natalie?" Cate asked, trying to raise objections so she wouldn't have to commit right away.

"They're in a separate category," I rationalized. "Patricia is tied to business contracts here and probably won't be able to back out of them, plus she's never mentioned trying to follow me."

"Only because she's afraid you'd say no," my sister mumbled under her breath.

"Still, I don't think I'll have a problem with her, and besides, she's got Henry to lean on," I added.

"Yeah, he'll provide support as long as she keeps paying his salary," she snarkily replied.

"Still, she's got her own support system here. I don't think Natalie will be a problem either. She's fascinated by me, but she doesn't really feel she's got any kind of claim on me. She won't object when we leave at the end of the week."

"We'll see about that," Cate replied, but I could tell she knew she was losing the argument with herself.

"I can deal with those two, but Shani's the only one talking about following me home," I stressed. "I'm not sure it's a good idea to let her abandon her job, her friends, her family and her home for someone she just met."

Cate sighed heavily. "Damn. All right, I'll agree, although I don't like it and I think it's a serious mistake. How are we ever going to learn about this if we don't have access to the necessary information?" Now that sounds like Cate, I thought, concerned more about her future research than for her own brother's future. Still, I'd managed to win her over, so at least I'd have some say over my future.

"Look, you can test me all you want, but you can't control my life. And no giving her our phone number or taking hers or anything else like that. It's going to be MY decision if I stay in contact with her, no one else's." I felt firm about this. I didn't want to completely change my life just because some strange woman started seeing lights. It just wasn't fair, to either of us.

"All right, I'll agree. Still, it's a terrible idea."

"Well, who knows, I haven't really decided yet. It may not even be an issue," I tried to reassure her, although I doubted that Shani would change her mind easily. At least in the case of an unplanned pregnancy the guy actually does something to deserve what happens to him. I hadn't done, or chosen to do, anything—I just had this whole thing thrown at me out of the blue.

"What about Mom and Dad though?" she countered. "Don't you think they'll have something to say about your abandoning her?"

"Ha," I replied lightly. "I'm sure they'll be glad some strange woman isn't going to move in with me and corrupt their precious son."

"Well someone needs to corrupt him," she countered snidely, "Your right hand isn't getting you out of the house very often." Cate took another breath and immediately launched into a new discussion. "OK, changing the topic, that leads to something else. I was thinking we should try a different sort of test. You managed to connect with Shani because you came to a large city where there were more people, thus better chances of being near someone with whatever it is you two have," she explained. She stopped walking and considered me, almost like I was a lab animal that had just completed a maze in record time.

"And?" I prompted.

"I want you to try to connect with others like Shani and Patricia," she finally concluded. "There are a few million people in the city and you won't have a chance like this again. You need to reach out to them and see if you can call them out, make them come to you." She had an excellent point. Our town had maybe a few thousand people and that was about it. We lived far off in the country. But I still had my doubts.

"But I have no idea how I did it in the first place," I complained, feeling utterly lost again. "Besides, it's not like we have a lack of interest in me. We've seen plenty of people watching, and it's only the second day we've been here."

"Still, we need to take advantage of the people here while we have them available. You need to try to reach out to them, even if we have to travel around the city and the surrounding areas looking for people. You're only likely to meet a few tourists here in the French Quarter. So far it seems your reach is a few blocks. We need to expose you to more people," she explained.

"I guess so," I sighed, resuming walking. "It's not like I did anything to begin with. But there's logistics to consider," I argued. "How do I get close enough to someone and give them enough time to find me, given how few people respond to me?"

"Yeah, I'll have to think about that," she conceded. "You know, given the number of looks I observed before I mentioned anything, there's the chance there may be a few people that are still looking for you. Patricia said that it took her a full day before she could connect with you."