“You should be writing these brochures, mom, that sponge thing was smart.”
Anna, now sitting on the couch and watching her shows, gave a bit of a strained smile in her daughter’s direction.
“I appreciate the sentiment, hon, but do you have to do that here?”
Taz looked up from the coffee table, upon which sat a towel, upon which sat a bowl, within which was two cups of water, which was sloppily splashing about as she struggled to hold two balls of water over it. “But you wanted to watch Her Majesty together…”
“You’re not doing a lot of watching, hon.” Anna reminded her, and Taz pouted, putting the water down to lean back and watch the TV in their little living room.
Taz could vaguely remember when she was five years old and this room was basically just a couch and an out-dated box television sitting on a stand; she remembered being excited that they were in a house, with her own room. At the time, she was just excited because things were new, and she had something that was hers, and they were watching television at the time.
Now there was a coffee table, plants on various end tables and nightstands, curtains over their windows, and rugs under various pieces of furniture, and homey, wooden flooring.
Pictures were all over the walls as well, most of them depicting Taz through periods of her life: going to kindergarten with a few teeth missing; attending a faire with her mother, the picture taken by one of the faire staff members; her at her first youth concert on piano, beaming and waving to her mother in the audience as the other kids prepared around her; standing in front of a curtain with artful lighting falling over the both of them, wearing their best clothing as a professional took a picture of her mother next to her recently teenaged child.
There were many more memories scattered around the room, and Taz didn’t really think about how the room changed until now. It had always been a place of comfort, where they would watch her shows, and she played video games. They ate dinner there as much as they did in the kitchen, though her mom insisted dinner should have been a time for talk, which was weird, since they were also supposed to be eating.
Taz had always liked her home, but like any teenager, she began to chafe under the familiarity of it. She’d wake up there, go to school, come home, and if she planned for it, head out to the mall, go see a movie, go to the park… she’d been here her whole life and things weren’t changing, and she was itching to do more.
Especially with her powers…
Sure she enjoyed her leisure time, but…
Both her and her mother’s heads perked up in the middle of the commercial break when a familiar looking man appeared on screen, dark-skinned, bald-headed, with a ring of short facial hair around his mouth in a sort of business-casual attire coupled with a handsome necktie. He was tall, broad, strong looking, very authoritative, and gave the camera a pleasant smile as he stood in the middle of a classroom where a group of young teens at desks were levitating baseballs around the room, passing them between each other as the man approached the viewer.
“It’s that time again, Arizona; registration for the Phoenix-Paiute Academy for Extracerebral Youths is opening up again across the world.” He said, catching a baseball out of midair and tossing it between his hands as he spoke. “I’m Dean Nathanial Davis, and I am sending representatives to every town in the state, so you don’t have to travel far to register for our scholastic program.”
The next shot cut to him was in what looked like the common room of a dormitory, sitting in a chair in front of a board game, surrounded by teens and kids of varying ages. Pieces on the board game moved without hands to guide them, cards shuffling before one kid’s face as he concentrated on the performance.
“Do you feel like your psychic powers aren’t developing at home? Do you feel like you have an unexplainable problem that regular doctors or psychics can’t help you with? Do you have problems connecting because of your psionics? Phoenix Academy is home to many of the leading psientists in the world, who are qualified to help you develop and assist you in easing your psionic disabilities.”
The view switched, showing the man smiling as he walked through a football field, teens and coaches populating the green, running about and flinging footballs. “But what if you’re feeling confident in your abilities? What if you just want to learn more? Well Phoenix Academy has experts in all psionic disciplines, as well as a number of trained psientists dedicated to teaching and studying our unique abilities. Our most talented are also encouraged to pass on their knowledge to younger students struggling with their abilities. And, of course…”
“We house the largest number of psychics in the world!” Then, he was standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon, students of all ages standing at his sides as the shot panned back to show the group growing bigger and bigger, hundreds of people standing together as the academy gleamed distantly behind them. The panning camera revealed students from a variety of different cultures, standing together, smiling and waving before the shot jumped to the next.
Finally, he sat in a padded chair behind a big, wooden desk in front of sunlit windows, addressing the camera frankly and officially in a three-piece suit, his fingers crossed and his expression serious, but impassioned.
“It won’t just be you, Arizona; our doors are open to every nation on this planet. You’ll broaden your horizons here with us, and make psychic friends from all seven continents. Psychics of all skill levels, psychics from everywhere in the world, all psychics are invited here to train and to teach. If you’re questioning what we have to offer you, then please, come speak with our psionic representatives when they come to your town. All visiting dates will be listed on our website, as well as any additional information. We look forward to having your incredible mind learning in our halls.”
The commercial ended, and Anna silently glanced her daughter’s way. Taz sat in silence, watching the television as their show returned and actors dressed like old English royalty bustled about in refurbished mansions. Anna took a deep breath as Taz stared back at the glass of water in front of her, closed her eyes, and focused.
It hadn’t even been a whole hour and Taz was improving, even if she didn’t see it. She always went big and let her power blow up in her face, but either through shame or stubbornness, she would settle down, concentrate, and lift a sphere of water out of the bowl, her breathing shallow as she concentrated.
It barely dripped, and though Taz’s cheek twitched from an itch, she ignored it and slowly moved the ball of water through the air, making it move in a slow circle above the bowl.
Anna pursed her lips… her daughter would be utterly impossible in the upcoming month, she knew that well. Watching her concentrate so hard on the water, watching her shape the very nature of reality with nothing more than a thought, all Anna could do was wrench her attention back to the television and prepare herself to take care of one very mopey teenager.
----------------------------------------
Surprisingly, the inevitable question hadn’t come.
Yet, anyways.
Instead, the house was filled with the pleasant sound of the piano… Rachmaninoff’s Elegy, a slow, somber piece, gentle and beautiful, and one of Anna’s personal favorites. She listened to her daughter’s playing with slow, relaxed breaths, letting the music take her somewhere more wistful and dark.
She chucked the washed tablecloth into the drier and listened to the music stumble for a moment, and then pick up again, this time accompanied by guitar. Anna craned her ear, listening to the two instruments play along, the piano in the lead as the guitar tried to wind itself around the Elegy’s almost dreary tone. Several times the guitar paused, only to pick right back up and try to lay a mournful rift over Rachmaninoff’s masterpiece.
Anna meandered over to the den and leaned against the doorframe just outside to watch in secret. Two girls sat at the piano, Tasha facing away, a big acoustic guitar in her arms, her fingers plucking strings as she held her ear up to the sound of piano playing behind her. Melodica sat by her side, her fingers ‘pressing’ the keys to the piano, perfectly imitating Tasha’s practicing.
The two harmonized, then lost place, and giggled at one another…
What a strange sight. Anna couldn’t help but grin when Melodica was around; such strange hair, such pale skin, such a long, fishy tail… At least this version of Melodica was modest in a short, fish-scale jacket and strapless top underneath; Anna was never fond of having to prepare an excuse as to why her daughter kept a bikini-clad mermaid around the house.
The house had been much more quiet before Tasha had imagined Melodica into being, but now there was chatter, laughter, singing, and music aplenty, something Anna had grown accustomed to much more quickly than she’d expected.
“We should learn howta play violin sometime.” Melodica spoke up as Tasha leaned her ear closer to the guitar strings and pouted about something. “Like that lady who does the, like, electro stuff behind it?”
After a moment of thinking, Tasha piped up: “Lindsay something?”
“I think so?”
“Before or after we give drums a try?”
“Proooobably before.”
“Yeah, mom won’t go for the drums unless we have something to show for it…”
Anna silently agreed with that assessment.
“Like PA.”
“Liiiiike PA…” Tasha sighed, and Anna’s smile tightened; of course she was still thinking about it. There were a few thoughtful strums on Tasha’s guitar, then a hum of consideration. “What about a cello instead of a violin?”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“You’re avoiding the elephant in the room, Taz…” Melodica said warningly, and Anna shook her head.
“Shut up.” Tasha grunted. “I think cello would be cooler.”
“According to who? Do any of our friends know what a cello is?”
“I mean, it’s not like they’re that uncommon, everybody’s heard of a cello!”
“Uh huh.” Melodica played a few dramatic notes on the piano… well, no, ‘played’, Anna reminded herself. “You think mom would like us picking up a cello?”
“Well she got us into piano in the first place, and she seems cool with us playing guitar.” Tasha played a few, sweet, saccharine chords on her guitar, and Melodica nodded.
“Alright, so we ask mom for a cello and some lessons.”
“Yeah!”
“And do we take those lessons when we go to PA?” Melodica turned to stare at Tasha, who stopped her strumming and went quiet, refusing to meet her own tulpa’s gaze.
Tasha must have been deeply frustrated, Anna noted; Melodica was typically pretty in-tune with her creator. Another dramatic hammering of the keys, the jarring noise making both of the Cooper women flinch, and Tasha breathed out a long, unhappy sigh.
“I still want to go…”
“I know you do.” Melodica said with a growing bitterness in her voice. “You can’t keep a secret from me, Taz, how are we convincing mom to let us go?”
Anna bit her tongue to keep herself from interjecting.
“I’m thinking about it, okay! I just… wanna play some music right now…”
Melodica gave Tasha a pouting look, and floated upwards, off of the piano bench, swimming circles around the room with her arms crossed over her chest in obvious frustration. Red bubbles filled the room as Tasha frustratedly played a few, mean-spirited chords on her guitar, and with a grunt, Melodica got into her progenitor’s face.
“Well I’ll be here when you come up with a plan! Until then, cello sounds cool!”
And without a sound, or a light, or any sort of effect, Melodica simply disappeared back into Tasha’s mind with all her imaginary bubbles, and Tasha groaned.
Yeah… she was frustrated. Anna could feel it even without psychic powers. She lifted herself off the doorframe and slipped back into the living room. Tasha would come find her eventually, and Anna knew an argument would come up once she did.
She glanced down at the spot on the coffee table where her little girl had been practicing hydrokinesis, and her brow crinkled at the brochure left behind.
Part of her wanted to chuck it into the oven where it belonged, but she knew that would only make things worse, so she tucked it into the stair’s handrail where Tasha would find it going back to her room, then settled down on the couch to watch some TV. She would have preferred a book as the sky got dark, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to get past a few paragraphs.
No music filtered from the den, but between the late-night news chatter, Anna could hear her daughter’s footsteps as she shuffled around the bottom floor. It was after maybe forty minutes or so that Anna knew Tasha was standing in the same room, and Anna could only assume it had been for more than a few minutes, since a bubble had appeared in front of Anna’s face.
Melodica was still annoyed, it seemed.
Anna’s fingers passed through the bubble, fiddling with the illusion for a moment, before she turned her head towards the kitchen, where Tasha stood there, silent and tense.
“Is everything alright, Tasha?” Anna asked. She knew the answer, she didn’t want her daughter to feel like she didn’t have privacy in her own house, but Anna still felt a twinge of guilt at pretending.
“Um…” Was her daughter’s answer. The tightness in Anna’s chest squeezed harder, and agitation made her sit up straight and stare at Tasha, wanting this to just be over with. Tasha cleared her throat, and walked forward a few, uncertain steps, and with a face as pale as milk, she spoke. “M-mom… um… I wanted to ask you something.”
Here it came; Anna hid a sigh. “And what is that, Tasha?”
Tasha took a deep breath, and met her mother’s eye. “Is there anything I could do that would make you… okay with me going to PA?”
Anna had her normal list of arguments prepared for being asked to go, but the question Tasha had asked took a more round-about way than Anna had been prepared for. Suddenly, everything she had in mind evaporated as she processed the question, all while staring at her daughter in mild surprise.
“Well, hon…” Anna trailed off for a moment. “You remember what I told you before, I don’t—”
“I know you don’t think there’s a future in psionics!” Tasha quickly interjected, her expression pleading. “But I love my powers, and I want to do more with them!”
Anna sighed, the surprising question quickly replaced by something more normal. “Your powers are exceptional, my love, but the world has moved beyond psionics.” Anna spoke calmly, but with an enunciated bite that brooked no argument. She readjusted her seating to better face her daughter as she gave her a serious look. “The world is tired of psionics; after everything with the Cold War and McCarthyism, there’s no jobs left where a psychic can… change the world without tripping over peace treaties and the Kazan Accords.”
“I-I don’t want to change the world…” Tasha pouted, and Anna frowned. “I just want to use my powers to… y’know, help people, and express myself, and—”
“And you are such a talented musician at your age, you have a much wider audience you can reach, and you lift their spirits, make them happy, make them dance…” Tasha fidgeted in place, looking away from her mother. “PA is a good place for troubled psychics, but you do just fine here on your own or with me. The only thing that place can offer you is—”
“Training!” Tasha spat out, interrupting her mother as she tried to regain some semblance of control in the conversation. “I-I want to be able to do everything a psychic can, I want to do it well, because you never know when those things might be useful!”
“You get more than enough use of it on your own.” Anna reminded her with a shake of her head. “The more you put into your powers, the less time you’re learning how to fit in with human society; psychic powers can do useful things, but we’re surrounded by technology and services that can do that for us. You can help provide those services, or better yet, put your talents to use and inspire people! You won’t be the first psychic musician, but you’ll be the first to use a tulpa, and—”
Anna yelped, nearly jumping out of her own skin as her face was suddenly filled with a platinum-blonde mermaid girl, their eyes locked together as Melodica fumed out loud. “I want to go to PA, too!”
“Melodica!” Anna gasped, tightening her fists to keep herself calm. “I told you not to scare me like—what am I saying?” Anna stood, walking through Melodica to meet her daughter’s surprised stare. “Tasha, don’t throw Melodica in my face like that!”
“I-I didn’t!” Tasha squeaked, making Anna’s tight, angry brow twitch in confusion, and Melodica wordlessly passed through her to hover in Anna’s face again, arms crossed as her fish-like tail swished unhappily beneath her.
“You didn’t answer our question.” Melodica accused her, and Anna frowned deeply, the thoughtform refusing to blink as they stared at one another. “What would convince you? Anything?”
Anna worked her jaw as she glared; a small, petty part of her wanted to scream that there was nothing they could do to convince her and if she saw another brochure from that place in her house she’d ground them both until Tasha was an adult, but she had to maintain her composure.
She closed her eyes and turned her head away, sorting through her thoughts without losing her temper, and let out a frustrated, but defeated growl.
“I would need for you to prove to me,” she spoke slowly and deliberately again, “that, by going to Phoenix Academy, it would help you find a career, or something that isn’t just fulfilling.” She opened her eyes to stare her daughter down, Melodica swimming over to nervously listen as Tasha did her best to not avert her eyes. “I want it to be useful, I want it to make you good money, I want it to serve the people, I want it to not be so… mind-numbingly consuming that you stop playing your instruments. I want it to be something that won’t get you arrested, or pulled before the supreme court for treason.” Anna stated firmly, almost spitting acid with each word, knowing that she was giving some lofty, lofty goals, but she didn’t want to hear her daughter whining. “Am I understood? I won’t stand for my daughter living her life out as a party clown, or worse, give the world a reason to neuter these abilities you’re so proud of; you are so, so much better than that.”
Tasha was silent after that, but… she didn’t look dismayed, or angry, or anything like that. She was thinking about it, looking for an answer that would satisfy them both, and Anna almost hoped her daughter might be able to find one, just so her little girl would be happy…
“And if I found something that did all of that, you’d let me go?” She asked, her words almost tip-toeing around Anna’s mood.
Anna straightened up, squaring her shoulders, and cleared out her argumentative side with a nod. “Yes.” She answered, her lips tightening in open frustration. “If you can prove to me Phoenix Academy can give you a career that’s more than just… I don’t know, working at Phoenix Academy, I will…” She tightened her grip on her upper arms. “I will let you go.”
Tasha stared up at her, and Anna twitched as her daughter’s excitement started projecting subconsciously, rippling through Anna’s mind and stirring her to, against her will, be a little excited too. She watched her daughter turn to look at Melodica, wearing a smile of thin hope, and together, the two of them nodded.
“Okay.” Tasha smiled up at her mother. Anna’s cheek twitched, but she relaxed. “We’ll find something!”
“Yeah!” Melodica said in a small cheer.
“I look forward to whatever you find.” Anna’s tone was a lot more sarcastic than she’d wanted it to be, but if Tasha noticed, she didn’t say anything as she raced upstairs to her room, stopping to double back and grab the brochure before she disappeared.
Anna wasn’t angry with her daughter, but… a small drop of fear fell into her belly and made it clench. She’d set a high bar, but she knew, deep down, on the very thin chance Tasha found something that met all those requirements, moving the goalposts would mean her daughter would never trust her again.
Anna slowly sank back onto the couch, and rested her face against her hands for a moment before turning the television back on.