A Loner Mentalist Pt. 08

"That was less than two weeks ago," he said. "They'll call. You'll see."

"They won't," she said in a small voice.

"Of course they will. They're just distracted with...uh..."

"They won't call," she said with sadness and a note of finality to her voice. "Back when I arranged for the AV club to make that video for the prom...I ran into some of the girls from the squad and may have said some things to them."

"What things?"

Mia hesitated before saying, "Things. Just things." He shot her a look. "They were talking shit about you, so I talked some shit about them. Right to their faces." She sighed bitterly. "They'll never call. You are literally my only friend in the whole wide world."

"Mia," Jack softly said, "you are literally my only friend in the whole, wide world, too."

She got up from the front seat and moved behind Jack to give him a quick hug. "I guess we've only got each other, babe." She kissed the top of his head. "I love you."

"I love you too, Mia." She got back in her seat and they drove on for a few more minutes before Jack said, "Although, to be perfectly honest, I do have a couple of pen pals."

Mia looked at him. He hadn't mentioned Rob, Steve, or John ever since his speech at the prom. She could tell that he was still sore about their betrayal, so she changed the subject. "Pen pals hardly count. We're both friendless and that's that. Oh, hey, look! A Scooby-Doo van!"

Jack looked where she pointed and saw the VW van. It was red and had nothing painted on it, so it didn't remind him of Scooby-Doo, apart from the make and model. "Cool," he deadpanned.

The drive north passed quickly. Mia worked the radio to find cool music and the two of them played road games. They stopped for lunch and then swapped seats, so Mia drove the rest of the way to Moncton, while Jack made reservations in a hotel there. A brief use of his powers ensured that they had no trouble crossing the border. No one mentioned the dogs and Jack had Mia pull over at the first exchange office he saw.

"What are you going to exchange?" she asked him.

"American dollars for Canadian ones."

Mia snorted a laugh. "No, for real, Jack, what are you going to exchange there?"

"American dollars for Canadian ones."

Mia held her hands up in confused disbelief. "But, it's the same thing, right? The Canadians have the same money as we do? Don't they?"

"No, they have Canadian dollars."

Mia remained skeptical. "Are you sure about that? Aren't you worried that...it might be some kind of hoax?"

"Mia," Jack exclaimed, shocked to see that she was earnestly concerned. "Seriously, Canada is a different country and they have different money here. Don't worry, I know the current exchange rate to the fifth decimal point. No one's going to swindle me. Stay here and I'll be right back." He left the RV, unwilling to believe that she really had such a giant gap in her general education.Although, shewas flunking high school when I took her in.

When he came back to the RV, Mia said, "I was just kidding earlier. You know that, right? I was trying to, you know, scare you and shit."

Jack could tell she hadn't, just by looking into her eyes. The embarrassment was plain to see. He laughed it off. "You almost had me going there. You can be quite convincing when you set your mind to it."

Mia briefly joined in his laugh and then focused all her attention on following the directions to Moncton on her navigation screen. Jack felt like an ass, despite not being able to figure out what, if anything, he had said could be construed as offensive. The silence in the RV was becoming louder with each mile, so Jack turned on the radio. The New Brunswick scenery passed by their windows, largely unnoticed. Before too long, they were in Moncton.

When Jack directed Mia to pull into a casino's parking lot, she gave him a look.

"Our hotel is part of the casino," Jack said.

"Yes," Mia hissed in delight. She pulled up to the valet's station and Jack told the man their reservation code. The valet guided them to a parking spot big enough for their rig. Jack put a service vest on Spot and took him inside the hotel with them. Jack claimed he had diabetes and that Spot was his service dog. After checking in, Mia snatched the keycard and ran to the elevators, not bothering to wait for Jack and the luggage. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders.She seems to be over this morning.

By the time Jack arrived to the room, she had already scoped out the place and given it her seal of approval. She pulled Jack into a big, wet kiss, despite the bellhop standing right behind him. Jack fished some money out of his pocket. He held it out for the bellhop and felt the man take it. The door closed within seconds and they were left to enjoy their kiss. Mia finally broke the kiss and grabbed Jack by the hand. "It's time we had a proper shower," she declared.

"Work, work, work," Jack mock-grumbled as he allowed himself to be led into the shower stall which was large enough to accommodate six people.

They made love under the hot spray, then washed each other before making love again. Jack dried off and got dressed in fresh clothes. He gathered up their dirty ones and called to have them picked up and laundered. "Mia," he called out over the noise of the blow-dryer, "I'm going down to see to the rest of the dogs! I'll be back in about twenty minutes, ok?"

She gave him a thumbs up and he gave Spot the order to stay with her. The dogs were bored, but otherwise alright. The RV wasn't hot, despite the afternoon sun beating down on it. He petted them and had them enjoy a lazy day with nothing to do but chew on their chew toys. When he came back to the room, Mia was dressed in a pair of beige slacks and a white tunic. Her dark hair was gathered in a ponytail and covered by a white baseball cap. She put on a pair of reflective sunglasses and smiled. "Are you ready to lose?"

"Sorry, what?"

She strode to him, putting on a pair of white gloves, and deliberately said, "Are, you, ready, to, lose?"

"Lose what?"

"A game of miniature golf."

"Miniature golf?"

"Yes. There's a course at the local Magic Mountain. Thirty-six holes of humiliating defeat, if you think you can handle being beaten by a girl."

Jack squinted at her. He guessed she felt the need to even the playing field between them after her currency hiccup this morning. "You seem to be forgetting that I used to be a varsity athlete. I'm pretty sure that I have the hand-to-eye coordination to beat you at miniature golf."

"I'm hearing a lot of talk, Jack. I'm not seeing you walk the walk."

Jack snorted. He found her impertinence quite amusing. "Ok, but don't come crying to me after the big bad Jackinator crushes you."

"As if."

"You are forbidden from having sex with me until after we come back here."

Mia shot him a look. "What the...oh, right."

"Yeah, not only would it be an unfair advantage for me, but you'd be literally dripping all over the golf course. People might slip on the pools of your juices and injure themselves."

Mia smacked him across the stomach with the back of her hand. "Not funny, babe!"

Jack followed her out of the room with Spot on his heels. He only made the dripping juices comment to make her feel ashamed and see if his ban was in effect already. As he watched her wide hips sway with every step, he was glad for that. It really wouldn't be cool if their game consisted of him saying no to her every twenty seconds, as men ogled her perfect form.

They took the RV to the water park and Jack let his dogs out to play on a meadow not far from the park itself. He put Athos in the service vest and no one objected to the German Shepherd following them onto the course. Mia and he rented some clubs and waited for their turn on the course. Mia sketched a small cheerleading routine, spelling out the words "Mia Winner".

Jack smirked in response. "Your pathetic attempt to psyche me out is pathetic." His smirk faded after the second hole. Mia made them both with one shot, while he took two on the second one. "I take it you've done this before?"

She tapped her temple in response. "Didn't see that coming, didja?"

"No," he said, smiling and shaking his head. "Who taught you to play so well?"

"One of the foster families that had me cooked meth. They had me over the summer and they needed me out of the house, so they took me to a miniature golf course, stole a club for me and showed me how to sneak in. No one ever bothered me once I was inside and I had nothing better to do. No friends, or anything, so I spent, like, I dunno, thousands of hours playing golf that summer."

"That must have been lonely."

She shrugged. "Did we come here to talk, or for me to beat you down? Come on!"

By the tenth hole, her lead grew to five shots. The eleventh hole was on the top of a steep crest that fell off just as steeply behind it. If the ball was hit too hard, it would fly over the hole and roll down the other side. If it was hit too soft, it would roll back down the front. One had to hit it just right. Jack got it on the first try. Mia needed seven, blowing her lead and working up a nice, frustrated rage.

They were neck and neck over the next seven holes, which required mostly timing to get the ball past the swinging windmills and shifting barriers. On the nineteenth hole, Mia bent over, right in front of him. Her tunic dipped low, all but displaying her bra-encased tits to him.

"Is that supposed to be a distraction?" Jack politely inquired.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mia replied. "I'm just stretching. If I'm distracting you, I'll turn around." She turned around and bent over, displaying her ass as her slacks grew tight over it.

Jack chuckled. "Nothing I haven't seen and touched already."

On this hole, a rectangular barrier rotated atop a slope. The slope leading down to the hole was ninety degrees to the left and led to a lane with barriers to the sides. The ball had to be timed just right to bounce at the proper angle and pass between the barriers after it rolled down the other slope. Despite her attempts to distract him, he tapped his ball when and how he wanted. It rolled up the slope, bounced off the rotating barrier at a practically perfect ninety degrees angle and slid down the other slope passing just within the barriers at the end of the lane. "Hah! Did you see that?" He raised his club and hooted in joy.

Mia shot him an unhappy look. She glanced at the ball again. "Oh, come on!"

Jack looked at his ball and saw that it had not stopped rolling after it came down the hill. It rolled towards the hole, slowing with every inch. It rolled just past the hole but, as it lost momentum, it turned and fell in. Jack laughed out loud. "A hole in one! You're going down!"

Mia shook her head. "I don't friggin' believe it."

She had all the enthusiasm of a wet kitten as she put her ball on the tee. She managed to get it to roll down the left slope, but it bounced off the barriers at the end of the lane. "Oh, come on! Fucking slopes!" Jack laughed while she took two more shots to get it in the hole.

The next two holes also had slopes where the strength of the put was crucial. Jack's lead grew to nine as they started on the twenty-second hole. Mia rallied and cut his lead down to four by the time they got to hole number thirty-two. It also had a slope. She took the hole in five shots, while Jack needed only two.

"Fuck it," she said, dejectedly, "I quit. You win." She shook her head. "You must think I'm a retard, or something."

Jack gathered her in his arms. "Hey, hey, hey," he cooed, "don't say things like that. You know I don't. You know I wouldn't. Not ever."

"I don't know why not," she said in a small voice.

"Because I love you, Mia, and I know what your story is. I understand." He angled her face upwards with a finger under her chin. Her blue orbs gazed into his brown eyes without flinching. "Don't be afraid of me judging you. I've already judged you. I judged you worthy of my time, my help and my love. Nothing's going to change that."

She hugged him back and pressed herself close to him. He could feel her breath hitch a few times. She sniffled. "Thank you."

"You got it, Mia." Other players walked up behind them and they broke their hug. Mia turned to leave. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the RV."

"Why? We're not done yet."

"Ugh, I lost," she said, rolling her eyes. "Can we just go now?"

He shook his head. "No. Not until you have some fun, too."

"Fun?"

"There's more to life than winning at competitions."

She cocked her head and looked him up and down. "Like what?"

"Like doing trick shots, just for the hell of it."

Her red lips slowly broke into a smile, displaying her perfect, white teeth. She nodded at him and they spent almost an hour on the last four holes, just daring one another to bounce the ball off this obstacle, or that one, in a specific way. They laughed when they failed, hooted if they succeeded. A single look from Athos kept the players behind them from complaining too loudly.

They parted ways after the last hole. Mia went to a mall to do some shopping, while Jack collected the dogs and went back to the hotel. Athos followed Mia, acting as her service dog and keeping an eye out for Patrick's master. Jack put another vest on Spot and had him resume his role of service dog inside the hotel.

After eating his pot cookies and doing his meditations, Jack was transported from his hotel room to the theater. He thought about mentalists and saw ten people on the stage. Fifteen tombstones backed them up. He noted the dates on the tombstones. A brief montage of how those mentalists had been acting right before their deaths played on the screen at the back of the stage. Jack grimaced and shook his head as he saw that five of them had gone nuts shortly before their deaths.

He focused on the living ones. Two of them he had already seen yesterday, so he ignored those. After thinking of which ones were benevolent and which were malevolent, he was pleasantly surprised to find all eight grouped together as benevolent mentalists.

He thought of their most tightly kept secrets and watched brief movies play on the screen at the back of the stage. He still felt uncomfortable watching such intimate moments from people's lives, but it was necessary if they were to believe his warnings. He raised his cloak and found himself back on the hotel room bed. He typed up quick notes on the secrets and listed the dates of deaths from the tombstones. His high kept kicking in, making the text on the screen lag significantly behind his fingers on the keyboard, so he popped in and out of the theater twice to get all the notes down.

The last mentalist whose secret he looked at was the youngest. Her innermost secret was that neither she nor her brother could read the mind of her boyfriend. Jack frowned. Her brother wasn't on the stage with her. Jack looked closer at her and learned that her brother lived in the dorm right next to hers. They were both attending the Université de Moncton. When she wasn't in classes, or with her boyfriend, she was with her brother.

"The fuck...?" Jack looked beside him and the cartoon dog was there, in the next seat. Jack gestured at the screen. "Explain this!"

"Her brother is Francophone, while she is bilingual."

Jack took another look at the girl and saw that she was the only bilingual member of her immediate family. She was even dating an Anglophone Canadian soldier. "Yeah, ok, she speaks English. Why can't I see her brother?"

"You know the answer to this, Jack. You don't share a language with the man, so you can't read his memories from the aether."

"That bit doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me," Jack protested. "The aether is made of thoughts, of memories. Feelings and stuff. Language shouldn't have anything to do with it."

"Shouldn't it?" the dog softly asked. "What is language used for, Jack?"

"Communication?"

The dog nodded. "Yes. Through language, people communicate thoughts, ideas, concepts. Your entire cognitive process has been shaped through the use of the English language. Everything you know, you've learned in English. You are incapable of thinking in any language other than English. You can't perceive thoughts that are made by minds that have been shaped by other languages."

"Wow," Jack said. "The language barrier really inhibits mentalism."

"Thought shapes language, language shapes thought."

"So, if I was to learn some foreign language..."

"Yes and no," the dog said. "You need to be able tothink in a language to be able to touch minds shaped by that language. Learning a couple of hundred words won't cut it. Also, fair warning, learning to think in another language opens upyour mind to mentalists who speak that other language."

"Yeah. Ok. Duly noted." Jack slouched in his seat.I guess I'll go study languages at college. In a way, he was relieved to finally have a direction for the fall. For years, he had been dithering between robotics, biotechnology, astronomy and nearly every other cool thing he had ever heard of. His quandary hadn't been helped by his aptitude tests, which always returned multiple choices of careers.

"Wait! If I learned French, would French-speaking mentalists be able to read all my memories, or just the ones I madeafter I learned French?"

The cartoon dog smiled and pulled a gold star from his fur. He pinned it on Jack's T-shirt. "Well done, Jack. Excellent question. As you can see from this girl's aether footprint, at first the other mentalists could only read new memories. However, as time went on and your brain revisited more and more memories with each passing day, so would those memories be made available in your second language. In a few years, your entire aether footprint would be bilingual."

"Ok, well, that's cleared up now. What about this mysterious Canadian soldier she's dating?"

A new movie played on the screen. It showed the mentalist girl getting fucked by a muscular young man with a goatee. She was thrilled beyond belief by the fact that she couldn't read his mind, or predict his moves, particularly in bed. A clip in which the man reamed her ass doggie style provided Jack with a very compelling clue.

"He's wearing dog tags! The Canadian military is also protected from mentalism! Who knew, eh?" Jack shook his head. "I bet all the NATO militaries are protected. Their civilian leaderships, too."

Jack's high ran out and he found himself back in his hotel room. He typed up the letters to seven of the eight mentalists. The girl's letter gave him pause. He was going to ruin the mystery of her relationship with her handsome, butt-fucking soldier by revealing the secret of the necklaces. He shrugged and asked her to warn her brother, too.

He went out to print and anonymously mail the letters. When he got back, he wanted to arrange a nice, romantic dinner for Mia and himself. He made an Athos-shaped hole in his cloak and saw that she was not yet done with her shopping spree. He browsed the menu to pick out something really good. He watched through Athos' eyes to see when she was coming. He had the dog stroll into the RV when they got out of the taxi in front of the hotel. Spot was their inside-the-hotel dog.

When Mia came back to the room, she dropped a dozen shopping bags just inside the door and took a running start at him. He planted his feet and braced for impact, not sure if this was a fight, or not. When he looked into her eyes, he saw an incredible lust and remembered the order he gave her before they went golfing. "No!"

Mia skidded to a halt on the carpet and heaved big breaths. Her skin was flushed and clammy. She ran her hands through her hair. "Phew! Thanks, babe. That was a big one."