He ran across the high grass, sailing over hedges and rose bushes. Behind him, his father laughed as he chased him.

He slammed into the back door and grinned at the arched brow his mother gave him before darting farther into the house. He hid under the grand piano, scooting back so the shadows concealed him further.

"Where'd he go?"

"I thought the point of the game was for you to find him," his mother laughed.

"Just a small hint, darling," his father wheedled. "That boy is quick as a shark."

He grinned at his mother's light laughter.

"You are on your own, **Basil. I promised not to interfere."

He covered his mouth to stifle his giggles as his father groaned and stalked past him toward the living room.

He smothered another giggle as Basil rushed up the stairs and searched all the rooms.

He swallowed his laughter when he saw those long legs appear in the doorway.

"Well, I've looked everywhere else," Basil said conversationally. "I suppose I could sit down and take a breath while I try to deduce just where he's hiding this time."

He crushed himself against the rear leg of the piano, covering his ears as Basil began to play. He opened his eyes and shrieked, staring into merry blue eyes.

"Aha!" Basil cried.

He yelped, laughing with his father, and vanished.

"He's cheating!" Basil bellowed.

"Mitchell Basil **Urza-Qan Canver!" His mother's sharp tone still held laughter at their antics.

Sulking, Mitch appeared before his mother in the kitchen. "He was about to catch me," he whined.

"No excuse for cheating **Urza," his mother chided him.

He squealed when Basil picked him up from behind. "Gotcha, li'l imp."

"Enough," she laughed. "Go wash up for dinner."

Mitch scampered upstairs as soon as his feet hit the floor, and Basil went to draw his wife into his arms.

"He gets more like you every day, **Imara," he murmured.

"Perish the thought," she sighed. "I only hope he has inherited more of your impulse control."

"Do you regret it?"

She smiled, laying her hands on his wide shoulders. "Not even once," she whispered. "You give me so much, Basil. How can I regret choosing to stay with you?"

"But your work..."

"Urza will finish it, when the time is right. I was only gathering data, after all."

"They exiled you!"

"Better exile than the alternative, my love. My choice was an easy one." She glanced aside and frowned. "Stop snooping, Urza!"

She shook her head as a giggle came floating down to them.

"Nosy li'l bean, ain't he?"

Imara arched an auburn brow at him. "And whom do you think he got that from?"

Basil conceded the point, backed away to wash his hands at the sink.

Mitch bounced back into the kitchen and Imara put him to work setting the table. He was not, however, allowed to touch the fine china. He had to direct everything through TK.

When he finished, he slumped against the table with a fine sheen of sweat on his young brow.

"Well done, darling." Imara kissed his forehead, and he smiled when the weariness washed away.

They sat down to eat, and Basil cleared his throat once his plate was empty. Mitch swallowed his bite of meatloaf slowly, too astute to miss his father's signal that An Important Talk was coming. 

He kicked his feet under the table and waited, enjoying his mashed potatoes and gravy.

"You'll be starting school soon, Mitch," Basil began, and he grinned.

"I wanna be smart like you an' Momma."

His parents shared an indulgent smile.

"Of course, you do, son," Basil continued, "but you must know you are not like the other children."

Mitch frowned. "Whatcha mean Da'?"

"I mean, other boys cannot cheat at Hide and Seek by Slipping Out like you do."

Mitch's eyes grew round in wonder. "Really?"

Basil nodded, reaching for his mug of beer. "In fact, other children cannot hear what their parents talk about from another room in their heads."

Mitch gaped at this revelation, utterly stunned. "Can they Feel inside people?"

Basil shook his head. "No, they can't."

Mitch sat back, confused and alarmed. "What's wrong with 'em Da'?

"Nothing, son," Basil smiled. "They just never learned to do those things like you did."

Mitch frowned in deep thought, then smiled. "Can I teach 'em?"

"No!"

He jumped as both parents shouted their denial. Imara spread her hands on the table with a long, slow breath, and gave her husband a level look.

"Sorry about that Mitch," Basil cleared his throat and tried to soothe the boy. "It's just that their parents wouldn't want them to learn to do what you can do."

"Why Da'? Don't they love 'em?" Mitch's concern grew. He couldn't imagine any other reason for such behavior.

"Sure, they do, son, but they don't know that kind of thing is possible."

Mitch swirled his spoon through his potatoes, thinking. "I can't play with 'em like I play with you and Momma."

"That's right, Mitch."

The boy sighed. "They're like the mean people at your school, Da'?"

Basil laced his fingers together on the table. "Those people weren't mean, son. They just didn't want to hear what I had to say. People don't like learning things they thought they knew were wrong. That's why your mother doesn't visit her family."

"Up there?" Mitch pointed to the ceiling with his spoon.

"Exactly," Basil nodded. "Momma knows something that's not what they want to know, so she has to stay here."

"I am quite happy to stay here, Urza," Imara put in. "But I do not want you to have to stay. One day, when you grow up, you shall go see my family up there."

"Can I take you and Da'?"

Imara smiled and wiped gravy off his chin. "I cannot go, darling, and your father will not go without me. We do not need to go Up There, but you will."

Mitch frowned. "When I'm big I'll fix it so you can go, and Da' too."

Imara blinked back tears. "Thank you, Urza. Now, do you understand that you have to be Normal when you go to school?"

He nodded, stuffing his mouth with the last of his mashed potatoes and gravy.

-Cuz you don't want people to make me leave school...If I'm Different, they might-

"Exactly." Imara sighed, and tension leaked out of his parents. "So, we do not want to worry about you telling other people's thoughts or Slipping Out, understand?"

He nodded, gulping down his milk. "Can I be 'scused?"

"Of course, darling."

The conversation stayed with Mitch for years. He didn't realize the impact his abilities could have on Normal People until his sophomore year in high school.

He drew the attention of several basketball players lazing around the bleachers in the school gym. He gave them a friendly hello and kept on. Mitch was almost at his locker when he realized they followed him. He stopped in the hall and turned around to face them.

"Who you talkin' to squirt?" one challenged him.

"I was just saying hello," Mitch replied. "Some people consider it polite."

That drew mocking laughter from the boys as they surrounded him. 

"Polite? Listen'a him. You think he's sayin' we ain't polite?"

"I dun' care what he's sayin'," another sneered, cracking his knuckles. "I dun take t' squirts thinkin' they can talk to me."

Mitch sighed, balancing on the balls of his feet. "Don't take it so personally," he murmured. "I apologize for speaking to you. I won't do it again."

"Oh, you apologize," Knuckle Cracker growled. "Yer sposeta be sorry, Squirt."

Mitch watched him come almost in slow motion. A second before he struck, he narrowed his eyes, and the boy flew back against the lockers. Mitch leaped over the head of another charging him from behind and stayed in the air, hovering over them, his hazel eyes blazing.

"I told you. I don't want to go that far," he warned them.

"Lookit him! He's flyin'!" a girl gasped, pointing at him.

Mitch frowned, realizing the scuffle drew a crowd. Everyone was looking at him.

Everyone now knew he was Different.

-Momma-

-Urza how could you?-

-I'm sorry Momma...They made me angry-

-Slip Out now...I will take care of the rest-

Mitch gulped and Slipped.

At home that afternoon, Mitch hung his head as his mother stood with her arms crossed in front of him.

"You cannot lose control like that Urza. You cannot allow people to know what you can do. Do you understand now why?"

He nodded with tears stinging his eyes. He knew he had disappointed her, and his heart was breaking down to his soul. He could bear anger from her, especially when he got out of line (because he did, not often, but it happened), but this saddening in her eyes made him ache.

Dinner that night was subdued, and Mitch barely ate anything. His father made no mention of his misstep, and he was grateful. He excused himself with half his plate full and crawled into bed with a heavy heart.

**NOTES**

Pronunciations:

Imara: EM-marah

Basil: BAZ-ul

Urza: ER-zah

Qan: K-ahn