A little girl, no older than seven, her pigtails bouncing, skipped towards the ice cream counter at the drugstore. The sign above clearly advertised a rainbow of flavors, promising sweet relief from the Southern heat. Ellis watched from across the street, leaning against the brick wall of Abernathy's church, the humid air thick with the scent of honeysuckle and simmering injustice. He'd been trying to simply observe, to learn the rhythms of this strange, painful world, but the scene unfolding before him was a discordant note he couldn't ignore.
The girl, small for her age, reached the counter, her eyes wide with anticipation as she peered up at the flavors. The server, a middle-aged white woman with tightly permed hair and a pinched expression, didn't acknowledge her. After a moment, the girl, her voice barely a whisper, asked, "Excuse me, ma'am? Can I have a scoop of strawberry, please?"
The server's gaze flicked down to the girl, her expression hardening. "We don't serve your kind here," she said, her voice cold and dismissive. "This counter is for whites only. You need to go to the back."
The girl's face crumpled. The light in her eyes dimmed, replaced by a shadow of confusion and hurt. Her mother, who had been standing a few feet away, rushed forward, gently taking her daughter's hand. "Come on, baby," she murmured, her voice laced with a weary resignation that cut Ellis to the quick. "Let's go."
As the mother and daughter turned to leave, a tall, elderly black man, his back ramrod straight despite his age, approached the counter. He was a respected figure in the community, Ellis had learned, a retired schoolteacher known for his gentle demeanor and unwavering dignity. "Excuse me," he said, his voice calm but firm. "I couldn't help but overhear. Surely, on a hot day like this, you could make an exception for a little girl?"
The server scoffed. "Are you trying to cause trouble, old man?" she snapped. "I told you, this counter is for whites only. Now, get out of here before I call the sheriff." She punctuated the threat with a racial slur, her voice dripping with venom.
The old man's face remained impassive, but Ellis could feel the wave of humiliation and anger radiating from him. He stood his ground, his eyes fixed on the server. "There's no need for such language," he said quietly. "We're all God's children."
"Get out!" the server shrieked, her face contorted with rage. "I said, get out!"
The old man, seeing that he couldn't reason with her, slowly backed away, his head held high. He joined the mother and daughter, offering them a comforting smile. Ellis watched them walk away, the little girl's shoulders slumped, her dreams of a sweet treat replaced by the bitter taste of injustice.
Ellis's fists clenched. The casual cruelty of the act, the blatant disregard for human dignity, ignited a fire in his belly. He had seen oppression before, on Xylon 1, on Eddington, but there was something particularly insidious about this – the way it was woven into the fabric of everyday life, the way it poisoned the very air they breathed. He couldn't stand by and watch any longer. The time for observation was over. It was time to act.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the town, Ellis made his way to Abernathy's house. He found the pastor in his study, a small, book-lined room filled with the comforting scent of old paper and beeswax. Abernathy sat at his desk, a worn Bible open before him, his brow furrowed in concentration. Sarah was there too, pacing restlessly, her energy barely contained.
"Mr. Abernathy, Sarah," Ellis began, his voice unusually grave. "I need to speak with you both."
Abernathy looked up, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding. "Come in, Ellis. We've been expecting you."
The air in the room was thick with unspoken tension. Ellis spoke haltingly, choosing his words with care, as he began to reveal more about his abilities. "There are things… things I haven't told you," he said, his voice low. "Things about myself… about what I can do."
He paused, searching for the right words, struggling to explain the unexplainable. "I… I have a sensitivity," he began, "an unusual one. I can… sense things. Thoughts, emotions… sometimes, I can anticipate events before they happen." He avoided the word "telepathy," fearing it would sound too outlandish. He framed it as an unusual intuition, a heightened awareness that he could sometimes focus.
Sarah stopped pacing, her eyes fixed on Ellis, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. "What are you saying?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "You can read minds?"
Ellis shook his head. "Not exactly," he said. "It's not like reading a book. It's more like… feeling the vibrations, the emotions… the intentions behind the thoughts." He emphasized the limitations of his abilities, the difficulty in controlling them, and the potential for error. "It's not precise," he said. "It's often fragmented, unclear. And it… it takes a toll on me." He rubbed his temples, feeling the familiar throbbing of a headache begin to build.
Abernathy listened intently, his eyes never leaving Ellis's face. He didn't interrupt, didn't question, simply absorbed the information with a quiet, unwavering gaze.
Ellis continued, explaining how he had used his abilities to help the movement, to anticipate Brody's moves, to protect the activists from harm. He avoided any mention of his temporal origins, fearing that it would be too much for them to comprehend. "I know it sounds strange," he said, his voice pleading. "I know it's hard to believe. But I swear to you, I'm not lying."
Sarah stared at Ellis, her mind reeling. She had suspected something all along, had witnessed his uncanny ability to anticipate events, his almost preternatural awareness of danger. But to hear him admit it, to hear him describe his abilities in such detail, was still a shock. "I… I don't know what to say," she stammered. "I don't understand."
Abernathy closed his Bible and placed his hands on the desk. "I believe you, Ellis," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I've seen the evidence of your gifts. I've felt the power that emanates from you. I don't pretend to understand how it works, but I know that it's real."
Ellis felt a wave of relief wash over him. To be believed, to be understood, was a burden lifted from his shoulders. But he knew that this was just the beginning. Now came the hard part.
He looked at Sarah and Abernathy, his eyes filled with determination. "I can't stand idly by while injustice prevails," he said, his voice ringing with conviction. "I can't watch innocent people suffer. I have to use my abilities to help. I have to."
He acknowledged the risks involved, the potential for discovery, the possibility of altering history. "I know it's dangerous," he said. "I know there are consequences. But inaction is even more dangerous. It would be a betrayal of my own values, a disservice to the cause of justice." He promised to act carefully and responsibly, to minimize the risks, and to prioritize the safety of the community. "I won't be reckless," he said. "I won't try to force things. I'll simply do what I can to help, to protect, to guide."
Sarah was still struggling to process everything, but she could see the sincerity in Ellis's eyes, the unwavering commitment in his voice. She knew that he was telling the truth, that he genuinely wanted to help. But she also knew the dangers involved, the potential for disaster.
"What if you're discovered?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "What if Brody finds out? What will happen to us then?"
Abernathy nodded in agreement. "Sarah is right, Ellis," he said. "We must be careful. We must consider the consequences of our actions. We cannot afford to be reckless."
Ellis understood their concerns. He knew that Brody was a dangerous man, that he would stop at nothing to maintain the status quo. But he also knew that they couldn't let fear paralyze them. They had to fight back, to resist, to stand up for what was right.
"We'll be careful," he said. "We'll take precautions. We'll minimize the risks. But we can't let fear control us. We can't let Brody win."
Abernathy sighed, his brow furrowed in thought. He closed his eyes for a moment, offering a silent prayer for guidance. Then, he looked at Ellis, his eyes filled with a quiet resolve. "I believe you are a gift from God, Ellis," he said. "A tool to be used for good. But we must wield this tool with wisdom and caution. We must never forget the ethical implications of our actions."
Sarah nodded in agreement. "We have to be careful not to cross the line," she said. "We can't become like them. We can't use our power to control or manipulate others."
Ellis understood their concerns. He knew the temptation to use his abilities for personal gain, to control others, to force his will upon the world. But he also knew that that was not the path he wanted to take. He wanted to use his powers for good, to help others, to create a more just and equitable world.
"I understand," he said. "I promise to be careful. I promise to use my abilities responsibly. I won't cross the line."
They discussed the limits and potential dangers of Ellis's abilities. Sarah worried about the risk of exposure, the potential consequences if Brody or the white community discovered Ellis's powers. She feared that it could lead to violence, arrests, and the collapse of the Civil Rights movement in Harmony Creek. Abernathy cautioned against the temptation to control others, emphasizing the importance of free will and the dangers of manipulating people's minds. He also expressed concern for Ellis's well-being, warning him about the mental and emotional toll of using his powers.
"It's not easy," Ellis admitted. "It takes a lot out of me. The headaches, the fatigue… it's a constant struggle."
"Then you must be careful not to overexert yourself," Abernathy said. "You must rest when you need to, and you must never let your powers consume you."
Ellis nodded, understanding the wisdom in Abernathy's words. He knew that he couldn't afford to burn himself out. He had to pace himself, to conserve his energy, and to focus his abilities on the most important tasks.
He committed to using his knowledge and powers strategically, focusing on protecting the activists and subtly undermining Brody's schemes, rather than trying to force large-scale historical changes. "I won't try to change the world overnight," he said. "I'll focus on the small things, the things I can do to make a difference in this community." He vowed to avoid any actions that could drastically alter the course of history, focusing instead on creating small, incremental changes that would empower the black community and advance the cause of justice. He understood that he couldn't solve all their problems, but he could help them to navigate the challenges they faced and to build a better future for themselves.
"I'll use my abilities to protect you, to anticipate Brody's moves, to undermine his schemes," he promised. "But I won't try to control anyone. I won't force anyone to do anything they don't want to do."
Sarah looked at Ellis, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and apprehension. She knew that he was taking a huge risk, that he was putting himself in danger to help them. But she also knew that they needed his help, that they couldn't win this fight alone.
"Thank you, Ellis," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "We're glad to have you on our side."
Abernathy placed a hand on Ellis's shoulder, his eyes filled with warmth and compassion. "May God guide you, my son," he said. "May he give you the strength and wisdom to use your gifts for good."
Ellis felt a surge of emotion, a sense of purpose he hadn't felt since before Eddington. He was no longer a lost soul, adrift in time. He had found a cause to fight for, a community to serve, and a purpose to fulfill. He was ready to face the challenges ahead, to use his abilities to make a difference in this world, no matter t
he cost. He was ready to fight for justice.