One Trick Pony (Danny)

There was nothing quite like a spring evening in a small town to attract people to bars. While it wasn’t uncommon to double up at tables when the bar got too crowded, the telepath hadn’t expected anyone to approach him. Not unless they recognized him, at which point all bets were off and it was a Hammel reunion. He certainly didn’t object to company; he was merely surprised. He looked up to assure the newcomer of that he was welcome to join him...

...and was taken aback by the striking resemblance between this Danny and Josh. There were differences, of course, not only because they were clearly two different people, but because Sean knew his friend like the back of his hand. Josh’s eyes were blue; this man’s were brown. Josh was taller. They wore their hair differently and had different styles of glasses. An age comparison was difficult considering how baby-faced Josh was; this man could be ten years younger than Josh for all he knew. His voice was different, of course; as was his mind since he wasn’t Josh. Still, the resemblance was there, and it registered on an unconscious level.

The telepath smiled at the other man and moved his scotch out of the way, making room for him to sit. “Of course.” He then offered his hand, the one not involved with the scotch, for a handshake. “Sean. It’s nice to meet you, Danny.”

He let the other man get settled at the table before asking, “And what do you think of our little town so far?” It was a less leading question than asking what brought him to the meta-human capital of the country. The other man’s name was unfamiliar from Hammel files, and it was quite possible he didn’t yet know about the high meta-human population, not if he’d only moved a few days ago.

The telepath sipped his scotch. He liked this bar because they didn’t water down their drinks, which was always a plus; particularly in a small-town environment where competition was less stiff than in the city. He turned his chair, so that he could better face the other man; now that he had a guest at his table, social courtesy took effect.

He couldn’t help but smile upon hearing Pilot Ridge described as cute. It wasn’t a descriptor currently used for a place like Pilot Ridge. Cute to him were those nauseatingly fake town, like in Westchester, parts of the Island, or Chevy Chase, Maryland. Places which focused on conformity and had no local feel beyond keeping up appearances. Pilot Ridge had far more going for it, not merely because of Hammel but because of an emphasis on individualism and making the area thrive.

However, from the other man’s context, he knew he didn’t feel that way. Which meant that it was just a descriptor, possibly because he wasn’t used to small towns. He’d heard a thought about L.A. a moment ago, which would certainly explain everything; Pilot Ridge was definitely cute compared to the ironically named City of Angels. “We’re growing exponentially. Give us another 300 years and we’ll surpass Manhattan.”

He took another sip of his scotch and then answered the other man’s questions. “21 years. And I do like it. There’s a good sense of community here, even if it’s missing some of the elements of a bigger city.” Such as a theater district and museums. He made do with Boston. “The weather takes some getting used to, so I hope you like snow. Lucky for you, we’re in the warm season.”

Setting down the glass, now half empty, he then asked, “If it isn’t intruding, what brought you here?”

The other man had taken his joke seriously; that was endearing. The telepath had been like that as well, when he was a child; he’d had to grow into subtle humor. The flush to his cheeks was also endearing, as he was obviously sensitive. “I’ll try to be a little more apparent,” Sean promised him, serious in that. He didn’t like others to be uncomfortable around him. He then chuckled at the serious consideration of what Pilot Ridge would look like if it had a larger population than New York. “We’ve have to put up a building higher than eleven stories.” That was a true fact; the tallest building in the entire state was in Burlington, and it was only eleven stories, not counting the nuclear plant. Vermonters took pride in that; Sean less so, but he wasn’t a true Vermonter. “And then we’d have to build a theater district, I think.”

The telepath listened attentively to the other man’s explanation of what brought him here. So Los Angeles had been a factor after all. That wasn’t too surprising. Sean had been out there for conferences before, and to visit friends, but he didn’t particularly care for it. Everything was backward there, and while the weather was pleasant, the entire city felt...fake. He couldn’t imagine living there. Then Danny also mentioned initially living on the East Coast, and from context, in the north where snow was common rather than an anomaly. “I’d definitely say it’s a change of pace. No more left turns on red lights.” He added that with a smile before reaching for his glass again. “But the community is friendly here. I could show you around sometime, if you wanted a full tour.” Forward, but genuine, that offer.

As for why he was here, it was both complicated and quite simply. “My job is here; my community is here. Almost everyone I care about lives here. It’s home.” He smiled at that and finished with his scotch. Time to order another.

Since he’d finished his last scotch, Sean caught the eye of the bartender and gestured at his empty glass. A few moments later, a new one was brought out, so he could resume drinking.

“Not in the entire state,” Sean confirmed with a nod. “Vermont prides itself on its small town feel and has strict zoning laws. Very small buildings. It took me a while to get used to as well.” Considering that as a child, he’d spent most of his time at Hammel and the town was more of a hangout than anything else. Then when he’d moved as an adult, he’d come from Manhattan, its polar opposite in terms of size. “But you get used to it. And we have a park; again, Vermont’s environmentalism. So we’d have to focus on tall buildings, a theater district, museums, and maybe a sports arena depending on how far we’d want to take the urban development.” He chuckled then at the thought.

And he had problems with directions...this was both uncanny and amusing. The telepath smiled back at him and said, “Then I’m happy to show you around. We can make an afternoon of it.” It was too late to do so tonight, since everything aside from the nightlife had shut down. It was much nicer during the day, when everyone was out and about. Sean did pride himself on knowing the town quite well. Then again, considering that he’d lived half his life here – not counting visits and vacations – it would be inexcusable otherwise. He then paused at the questions about sights to see and his favorite parts of the town. The two didn’t have much overlap, considering his job and his hobbies. He spent time at Hammel, or at his house hosting parties, or at his friends’ houses, or at bars, primarily. “Well, aside from the park, there’s a lake which is gorgeous in the summer. We have a mall, which is more of a teenaged hangout.” Created by need, since they had a strong teenage population.

“But for myself, there are some nice restaurants, clubs and bakeries. And there’s a beautiful place up on a hill, where you can see the entire town.” Sean liked to sit up there; he had liked to sit up there as a student as well.

The telepath had heard the other man’s thought about making a model of Pilot Ridge, which prompted him to ask. “What is it you do, Danny? Or are you between jobs?” That was a strong possibility, given that he had just moved.

“Slums can be avoided.” The telepath was adamant about that; of course, it involved actual community participation and work to eradicate discrimination, but it was possible to have a large city without slums. “I like to think that if we worked at it, nobody would ever have to worry about safe housing again.” And he’d just outed himself as a socially-conscious liberal.

When his new scotch arrived, he thanked the bartender and immediately began to work on the new one. It was one of those nights, and he had no regret for that. He was drinking from enjoyment, rather than anxiety or depression.

He returned the other man’s smile when Danny took him up on his offer to take a tour sometime. He was gladdened that the other man was both friendly enough to accept the offer and enthusiastic about the prospect. Perhaps he had just made a new friend.

“Yes, most of them are from the school. I wouldn’t quite call it an academy.” An Institute, as per their name. Academy had a military connotation in the U.S., as opposed to overseas where the description might be more appropriate. “But they’re well-behaved.” For the most part.

He smiled at the interest the other man showed in the hill, his hill, as he might be inclined to consider it in his more nostalgic moments. “I’d be happy to show it to you.”

So that was more than a hobby. It certainly explained why he was so quick to contemplate building a model of a town he had moved to only a couple of days ago in anticipation of a population and industrial boom that would never occur. It required a great imagination, as well as patience and attention to detail, all of which were qualities that Sean admired. He smiled at the other man and said, sincerely, “That sounds like fascinating work. What made you decide to take that up?” He was genuinely curious.

He took another sip of his new scotch and then answered the other man’s question. “I’m a psychiatrist.” That revelation could be a conversation killer, although he hoped it wouldn’t be tonight. Sometimes it only made his conversation partners ask questions that ranged from the curious to the uncomfortable.

“Eco-friendly?” The telepath inquired, curious now. He knew that there was a push towards sustainability and building up the nation’s infrastructure, even though neither of those goals – despite being important – was politically popular. “Made from recycled materials? Or something more complicated than that?” He nodded in agreement while taking another sip of scotch. “It’s perfectly possible to overcome most of the problems in society; people just have to be willing to commit and to work together to do it.”

Hammel wasn’t widely known outside of the meta-human community and their friends, family, and fans. As such, it wasn’t surprising that the other man hadn’t looked into the presence of a private school in the town; there were so many schools scattered throughout the nation, and teenagers were simply part of the social fabric. “Teenagers have a bad reputation because of the hormones, but I’ve found that they’re more often well-behaved than not.” He then chuckled at Danny’s revelation of having either been an extremely wild teenager or mild-mannered; self-perceptions weren’t always to be trusted. “I was mild-mannered as a teenager; I only became a rabble rouser when I grew up.”

The story itself wasn’t any more interesting that most stories about how people made career decisions. From how Danny told it, he had a skill and a degree of interest, and the decision had been simple. Perhaps he was downplaying the decision, and perhaps not. However, the telepath was immensely fascinated by this, not by the story itself per se, but by the other man’s spirit and the genuine love for his career decision. “What’s the most interesting model you’ve ever built?”

The telepath felt pleasantly warm. That was the straight scotch, without anything in his stomach to mitigate it. Warm, peaceful, and happy. That was what he liked about drinking. And the present company.

Sean returned the other man’s smile, heartened that Danny found psychiatry interesting rather than off-putting. Since he didn’t ask the telepath if he was trying to analyze him at that moment – a far too common joke that had never been funny (and was often coupled with the “what am I thinking?” question which came from learning he was a telepath, also not funny, even though he could answer) - he felt comfortable giving an honest response. “My father was a doctor, and so it was foretold that I would go into medicine; it was expected of me, and I did well enough in science. But I was more interested in the mind, in helping people overcome their traumas and personality disorders, and I thought I could do the most good there. I have a knack for psychology.” That was an understatement.