Unexpected Stories by Octavia E. Butler

Trying to grab what I knew out of my thoughts before I could realize what she was doing and stop her. But who’s likely to know more about that kind of thing? Someone who spends months teaching it to kids, or someone who’s had to be polite most of the time and pretend it doesn’t exist? She didn’t get a thing. Not even the satisfaction of taking me by surprise. So she left. Just like that. She got up and walked out.
    I didn’t reach after her until she was outside in the driveway. I meant to catch her just as she started to give way to her anger and let her guard down a little. I meant to show her how that little trick worked!
    I never got to do it.
    There were three organization men waiting in her car. She stood in the driveway and called them to her. Then she started back toward my house with them surrounding her. Her protection.
    Three. And they weren’t teachers. They were the world’s first psionic brawlers. They fought among themselves mostly. Sparring, jockeying for position in the organization, fooling around. It kept them alert and in shape.
    I never even thought of running. They were set to have too much fun as it was. Something like this had been bound to happen sooner or later anyway. I had known that for a long time.
    The four of them came in and faced me silently. They didn’t have to say anything.
    I shrugged. “Do you mind if I get my things?”
    They took long enough answering to have been doing some silent arguing about it. I wouldn’t know for sure because I had shut myself up as tight as I could in my own head. Anything I let slip now, they would grab. I’d been bragging about how much my kids knew about the organization. Now, one slip and the organization would know all about my kids.
    Eve. “I’ll bring what you need, Barbara.” She evidently spoke for all of them.
    As they herded me toward the door, one of the men said, “How long did you think we’d let you get away with this shit anyway?”
    I was making things too easy for him. He wanted to make me mad enough to do something stupid. Like dropping my guard.
    I never had time to get mad. Just as the man finished speaking, one of the other two yelled. It would have taken me a little longer to realize what was going on without that yell. Not that the realization helped me.
    The men and Eve fell to the floor unconscious before they could even spot their attacker. It happened so fast they appeared to fall in unison.
    I stared down at them for a moment muttering, “Oh God!” Then I started to feel the anger that the organization man’s question had not had time to bring. I had to force myself calm before I could come out of my mental shell.
    The first thing I got when I did come out was an identity. Not a “my name is.” Just a mental impression that I recognized like the sound of a familiar voice. I reached out.
    Jordan .
    Hey. His thought was easy, like his voice. Why don’t you let somebody know you in trouble? If we hadn’t felt you closing yourself off a minute ago they would have had you and gone before we could do anything.
    Confusion. I didn’t know what to feel. I was let down rather than relieved. And the fear that I had managed to conceal from my organization captors now had to be concealed from Jordan, because he wouldn’t understand it any more than they would have. The only safe emotion was anger, and he didn’t deserve that. He’d only been trying to help.
    Jordan again. You better get out of there now. The organization must know what we did to their pigs. They’ll be sending twenty people after you instead of four!
    No doubt . He was seventeen. One of the first kids I’d found after leaving the organization. Not too long ago a college student from Kenya had told him he looked like a Watusi man. His head was still pretty big over that.
    Jordan, let them come to. I sent the thought, knowing beforehand what his answer would be. He replied true to form.
    What? Shit, they almost got you once! What you want to