Orange flames stretched towards the moon, the fire below spreading through the house, licking every memory off the walls. Sparks flew, wood cracked, sirens wailed. Two bodies laid near a bedroom door, charred beyond recognition, long dead before anyone found them. A figure in black ran down the street carrying a screaming bundle of blankets, a yellow hue trailing behind him like glowing wings. The house roared as it collapsed. The world was loud, but as dawn rose, orange flames gave way to a deep red sun, and quiet settled itself over the house Evander never really knew.

It started with a spark, Evander was told. Less than two weeks out of the womb, he had the curious habit of giving his parents static shock whenever they held him. They changed his blankets, his clothes, his diapers—nothing helped. Sleep-deprived and at a loss, they failed to notice when Evander began producing actual sparks.

Evander remembered nothing of his first home and though he felt guilt over his parents’ deaths, he did not feel like he missed out on a loving family. He would have been taken from them, anyways.

The night Harlow took Evander he had already been watching him for weeks. It was a matter of time, he later told him. People like him showed signs early, though Evander’s particular brand of lightning was much stronger, much younger, than usual.

Harlow had given him everything he needed: shelter, protection, food, answers. He may not have been particularly fatherly, and he rarely spoke unless absolutely necessary, but he gave Evander a home and taught him everything he needed to know. He helped a little boy find his purpose and make peace with the cards he had been dealt. It was a blow when, on Evander’s eighteenth birthday, Harlow told him he was leaving.

It was a warm, humid day, the sun soaking everything in bright yellow, the inside of their humble house thick with wet air. Evander and Harlow were on their front porch, celebrating his birthday with glasses of iced tea and a conversation he still didn’t understand. Evander was unusually emotional. After years with his stoic savior, he had taken on his pattern of only speaking when necessary, and keeping a level head. It was an important part of his upbringing—maintaining control.

“I am sorry, Evander. You can stay here, everything is settled for you. You will go to college in the Fall. But there are others who need me, and that is my purpose. Yours is yet to be seen, but you have everything you need to find it.”

Evander studied Harlow. This man he trusted, this man he considered a father, was leaving him. Sweat soaked through his clothes. His hands trembled. He had no one. It was not pertinent in his situation to make close friends or have any relationships. The closest thing to a friend he had was the stray cat that had made a semi-permanent home in their shed, a bright orange tabby he called Helios.

“Evander, you must calm down. Take a breath. Think about what I am saying - it will be alright. It is just the way it has to be.”

He closed his eyes and counted his breaths. Seven seconds in, hold for four, seven seconds out.

“What about college? How am I supposed to pay for that? Do I get a job?” Evander asked, eyes still closed.

“It is all taken care of, Evander. Everything has already been settled and you do not need to worry. As for an actual job, that is entirely up to you. It certainly would help you assimilate better.”

He glared hard at Harlow. “In what world would it make sense for me to ‘assimilate’? I’m not capable of being close to people.”

“Evander.” Harlow’s tone was cold and low, yet empathetic. “You are capable of many things. You are more than just what you have been tasked with. There are many different paths you can take.”

He put his hand on Evander’s shoulder. They locked eyes before there were tears, and they hugged, silently enjoying the last bit of each other’s company until evening fell. Harlow grabbed just one bag, walking down the steps.

“Goodbye, Evander. I wish you faith and happiness.”

Evander watched his silhouette until he was too far to discern from the darkening sky. As he stood on the porch, wondering what to do next, the orange tabby mewled and rubbed through his legs, happily purring.

“Hey, Helios. You’ll stick around, right?”

The cat replied with loud meow, and, for the first time, Evander let Helios inside the house.