I shrug and roll the sucker around in my mouth before answering, “Probably.” It’s not like there’s much else to do in this town.

She nods at my assurance, “You’re probably right… Actually you’re always right.” She turns and smiles at me. She leans against the wall next to where I’m working. “You can head out soon if you wanna. I don’t think it’ll get too busy now that the popo’s shown up.”

I shrug. She’s not wrong either. We’d had a steady crowd tonight, but the moment the cops show up the steady stream of people turns into a trickle. I give another sidelong look over at Walt before nodding my head.

I finish washing the glasses I’d picked up before throwing the towel in and heading out. Walking out into the night I can feel a weight begin to lift off of me as I get farther away from the crowd of people. The downside to telepathy is that being around a lot of people at once can be mentally draining. Not that I can actually read their thoughts though. That’d take a lot more effort on my part. When I’m not trying I just get fractured bits and strong emotions. Even if I was trying though it’s still hard to make out what’s going on in those heads. That’s just with humans though. If I was with my own kind our thoughts would flow together like water, but with humans it’s like trying to swim through tar.

I open the door to the cab of my truck and hop in the driver’s seat. I stare at my reflection for a moment before starting the engine and driving back to my place. I look more like my mom than my dad. I have her blond hair and green eyes. But my mom had been graceful and beautiful. I’m neither of those things. Too much hard living as a kid had left me scraggly looking with scrawny arms and a gaunt face. This planet is also missing an important nutrient that had been on the home planet which is apparently important for growth and development. The closest thing to 

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it on this planet is sugar, or more aptly glucose. I roll the sucker around in my mouth while I call up one of my dad’s memories about some dinner he’d had with my mom. I can taste the sweetness like I’d been there and tasted it myself, but it’s still just a memory and not even my own.

My truck bounces along on the dirt road while I ponder the old memories. Some days I’m glad for them. I cling to them like a child would a blanket for comfort, but other days I resent them. They make me nostalgic and make me miss things that I’ve never even had. I don’t know exactly why my parents had to leave the home planet and come here. I know it has something to do with me, the same reason why those soldiers were trying to hunt us down, but my father had never properly explained it to me. I’d just get glimpses and whispers from his thoughts, but he would never just tell me. The only thing I ever got out of him were a handful of happy thoughts from his childhood.

I pull into the driveway of the old barn I’ve been staying at for the last two years. The owner of the farm had built a new barn closer to the house and had decided to rent out the old one rather than tearing it down. It’s an old and ramshackle building that looks like it’s one strong gust of wind away from blowing over, but it’s better than sleeping outside.

I step out of the truck and struggle to pull open the barn doors before heading in. The main reason I had opted for the barn rather than getting a proper apartment is because this way I can have my home and workshop in one place. Working at the bar is nice, but it’s not exactly like Gina and Buck are rolling in money and so they can’t always give me hours. That’s why on the side I build things and sell them. I can build just about anything. My psychic abilities help me out a lot in that department. Everything’s a puzzle that’s just waiting for my hands to put them

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together. Tables, chairs, toys, even instruments, you name it and I can build it. I’m also not too shabby at mechanical work, but I like building things from scratch rather than trying to fix things.

I toss my keys onto a table piled with cans of paints, primers, and stains and head into the corner of the barn that I’ve renovated into a makeshift bedroom. It’s the only part of the barn with insulation in the walls. It’s also the only part of the barn with actual walls instead of exposed wooden boards and studs. I’m not technically supposed to sleep here. The lease says very specifically that the barn isn’t suitable as living conditions, but I don’t particularly care and neither does the old man who rents it out to me.

I feel around looking for the electrical switch to turn the power on. Once I do I turn the light on and begin fiddling with the heater. When I first got the place there hadn’t been any electricity in the barn, but I had set up a battery operated generator and run wires for lights and most importantly heating. During the day time it’s fine to go without a heater, the sun will do the work for you, but once night comes the temperature plummets. As soon as the fan starts whirling and blowing warm air I let out a sigh and start taking off my shoes.

It’d been a long day and the bar had been busy for most of it which had taken quite the toll. I crunch the rest of my sucker between my teeth and toss the stick into an ashtray overflowing with other remnants of the same kind. I lay down in my bed and finally let myself relax. I don’t mean to fall asleep, but as soon as I close my eyes I begin to drift off. I don’t know how many hours pass, but I find myself being jolted awake as a clattering noice disturbs me. It’s dark and the heater is no longer going which means the battery had died in the generator which is annoying. I quickly sit up in bed as a loud curse fills the air which makes me smile. I swing my