Alexia figured her assignment in the garden was a ruse so Mѐre could talk alone with Reuben, and she found herself debating on how to handle it. Her initial reaction was to argue about how once again she was being treated like a little kid. But after recent events, she was reluctant to argue. Working in the garden was somewhat cathartic, and as she hoed down the last of the weeds that had managed to push through the mulch, she decided to leave the matter alone. She had promised she was going to work on improving their relationship, and arguing again wouldn’t make any progress on her goal.

Reuben walked out to the garden before she was entirely finished. “Want some help?”

“Don’t need any.” She only glanced at him and decided it couldn’t hurt to inquire. “So, what heavy lifting did Mѐre want you to do?”

“My conscience.”

When he didn’t say any more, she straightened from her hoeing and stared at him. “Care to elaborate?”

He shrugged. “It’s personal.”

“Of course.” She chopped the few remaining weeds.

As much as her imagination could run wild with those comments, Alexia decided to just drop the matter. After what he had been through over the last several days, she was less inclined to argue with him as well.

They needed to devote their energies to planning and preparation, and after she got some artichokes cooking in a pot over the pit fire, she sought out Reuben, and found him standing at the edge of the swamp beside a couple of buckets filled with water. It was what they used to water the animals and keep the toilets flushed. The ever-present rifle hung from his shoulder, and his arms were folded across his chest as he frowned at a distant cypress tree.

“You in a stare-off with a gator?” She asked as she stood beside him and also gazed out upon the expanse of water, trees and Spanish moss.

“If only it were that simple,” he replied. “Although if they knew what I was thinking, they’d all be lined up on the bank, pointing at me and laughing.”

“I could use a good laugh.”

He glanced at her with a smirk. “Actually, I was trying to wrap my head around the concept of utilizing the principles of the Archimedean screw so that we wouldn’t have to haul water so much.”

Alexia noticed that he used the pronoun “we,” but she knew good and well he was the only one hauling water. “Don’t you think before you start building aqueducts we need to prepare for ... them?”

“We need a better name. How about ‘wretched hive of scum and villainy?’”

“Hey, this is my home town, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Your home town is still at the mercy of its council.” Reuben focused his attention on her. “And there’s a little something we need to talk over first before we launch into strategy. I’ve been thinking it over. You need to learn to control your talent.”

She stared at him while trying not to get annoyed. “And what do you think I’ve been trying to do all these years?”

“No, what you’ve been trying to do is suppress it. I’m saying you need to learn to use it.”

“Are you cracked? You know what it does to me.”

“And keeping your emotions bottled up isn’t good for you, either.” His gaze returned to the swamp. “Your outbursts are still getting stronger. The other day ... when we had our little tussle, you actually hurt me.”

Guilt cut through her as she felt her mouth drop open slightly. “Oh, Rube, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“We’ve been over that. I really think it was just because I was in contact with you while you were having a big one. But what you need to determine is how you can get some good out of this thing. It doesn’t have to just be a handicap.”

“You know I can’t use it full force without knocking myself out.”

“You don’t have to always go full blast.” He looked at her again. “You know how when you’re in lower gear you can still make objects move and people can feel the vibrational force you put out. Maybe you can get to where, I dunno, you can knock somebody off his feet.”

“I don’t want to hurt people.”

His expression became solemn. “And I’d rather not kill people.”

The chill that seeped through her was partly caused by the fact this was the first time she heard him say out loud how far he’d been forced to go to secure their safety. And as much as Alexia didn’t like the idea involving his suggestion, she couldn’t deny his point. Neither of them had the luxury of avoiding things they didn’t want to do.

“How on earth would I use any control over this thing?”

“Think back to the biofeedback. I’m sure you could find a way to ... aim it.” His gaze returned to the swamp. “You are more dangerous to stand in front of than behind. Most of the energy seems to come from the torso. That’s why I ... forced you down during that episode in the house. I was trying to focus the worst of your outburst to the floor, where you’d be less likely to ... break something.”

“When you say aim it, just what do you think I’m going to accomplish?”

He looked at her again. “Plenty if you get creative. You could knock something outta somebody’s hand, or away from them. You could hit them with something. I still think that with concentrated force you could bowl somebody over. And if nothing else, you’ve always been good at causing distractions.”

Alexia frowned. She had grown so accustomed to hating her outbursts that it was hard to fathom the idea of actually using it like a tool. Besides, there was one fact Reuben seemed to be blatantly overlooking.

“And how am I going to be able to pack all the food I’m going to need if I actually use this thing instead of suppress it?”

“We already know pemmican is your best friend. But don’t forget, this thing’s getting stronger. Remember your outburst when we were trying to get outta Baton Rouge? Once upon a time, that would’ve knocked you out completely. It seems that like working out a muscle, you eventually use less effort to obtain the same result. The stronger it gets, the easier things become that used to be hard. You may have reached a point where you can actually use this at a functional level.”

“And so you’re thinking ... what? I need to practice? That this thing can somehow help us?”

“That, and I think it’s simply better long term for you to know how to use it constructively.” His attention returned to the swamp. “We have one little problem. Your mom’s not gonna like this.”

Now there was an understatement that made all his others sound like pointing out the obvious. She had no doubt her mother could hit the ceiling upon discovering she was not only developing ways to use this ability, which was a threat to her welfare in itself, but it was exponentially worsened if she was going to use it to help defend the home.

She would be doing exactly what Mѐre feared others might want to exploit her for.

The realization struck her like a splash of cold water. Reuben was asking for her help. Their plan wasn’t going to involve her cowering and hiding somewhere while he and her invalid mother fought off attackers. He wanted her contribution, and, probably knowing how emotions could run high in a situation like this, was seeking out a way for her to remain useful. He was treating her like an adult, not a little kid that needed protection.

Yet it figured that his suggestion flew in the face of her determination to improve her relationship with her mom.

She immediately thought of the proverb about being careful what you wish for, but her initial resistance to his proposal began crumbling. “So what did you think we were going to do about Mѐre?”

He still looked toward the swamp. “There’s nothing to tell as long as she doesn’t ask.”

Alexia stared at him. “Who are you and what did you do with the real Reuben Baldridge?”

He drew a deep breath before he spoke. “People’s lives are on the line.” He finally looked at her again. “Of course chances are she’ll figure out what we’re doing, and when she does, I’ll take full responsibility.”

So much for treating her like an adult. She tried not to bristle too much as she nearly growled, “Oh no, you don’t.”

He frowned slightly.

“I’m every bit as guilty in this conspiracy as you are,” she continued. “If we’re going to be partners in crime, then I want to be a full partner. Don’t hide me behind you. By taking on the risks, I’m taking on the responsibility. I expect to be treated no differently.”

He seemed to study her for a few seconds before replying, “I can respect that.”

She’d gained one small victory, and Alexia decided that was an even trade for dropping the matter about what he and her mother discussed. She was still nervous about what might be ahead of them, but at least by being a participant instead of a spectator in the preparations, she managed to feel a little more secure.

“So,” she asked, “what are your plans?”

“My plans are open to suggestion. But for starters I think rigging a few barricades and booby traps might be good. We’ll need several plans of attack, not just defense. And we need to diversify our arsenal as fully and creatively as we can.”

“And when do we practice with my talent?”

“Tomorrow. We’ve got a lot of other work to do today.”

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