“Richie, could you come here please?”

Richie wanted to stay in his room. His parents had been in a frenzy since the incident with Mr. Marks. It was bad enough that a neighbor tried to kill their son and died horribly in the attempt, but the revelation that Richie was a telepath was almost worse. Dr. Spock never wrote about what to do when your child begins exhibiting superpowers, and they were left in a state of confusion.

“Richie?”

“Coming.”

The boy wandered down the hall toward the living room. He dawdled here and there. The psychic din that assaulted him grew worse with proximity, so he went slowly to acclimate himself. He could tell that mom and dad were on the couch. He’d become quite good at what would come to be called psycholocation. His parents’ thoughts were more jumbled than usual, anxious and strangely incomplete as if he were missing half of the conversation. When Richie entered the living room he learned why. There was a man there speaking with Richie’s parents. At first Richie wondered why his powers didn’t warn him of the man’s presence, but once he noticed the man’s green skin and impossibly dark eyes he figured it out.

“Hypnos?”

The green man smiled and nodded. “That would be me, and you would be Richie Benson. I’ve heard a lot about you, young man.”

A superhero was in his living room and from Justice Patrol no less. Richie couldn’t wait to tell Bobby. In his excitement he forgot that Bobby’s parents had forbidden Bobby from seeing him. Hypnos was wearing an unremarkable gray men’s business suit. Richie was disappointed. Why wasn’t he in costume?

“Can I see your badge?”

Hypnos laughed as he reached into his breast pocket. “Actually, our badges were recently replaced with identification cards. Personally, I prefer the badges. They seemed more official.” He handed the card to Richie. The boy studied it. It bore Hypnos photo, face front and profile. It also listed the hero’s security clearance, identification number and various other bookkeeping data. Rapt with fascination, Richie forgot for a moment that his life had recently become a nightmare, but only for a moment.

“Why are you here, sir?”

“Well, Richie, I hope I’m here to help you.”

Richie cast a skeptical eye. “How?”

“You and I have a lot in common. I remember when I got my psychic powers. It was terrifying. I could hear everyone’s thoughts, even the thoughts I had no right knowing, and it got stronger over time, just like with you. It was overwhelming. I feared I would go mad, but I didn’t. I learned to control it. I learned to filter people’s thoughts.”

“Filter?”

“Yes, I learned to block all of the incoming thoughts except for the ones I wanted to hear. I’d like to teach that to you.”

“You mean the voices would go away? It’d be quiet again?”

Mom and dad’s fear and confusion was suddenly tempered with hope. From Hypnos, Richie felt a wave of empathy and compassion. “Yes,” Hypnos said, “it would be quiet again.”

“When can we start? Can you teach me now?”

“Soon”, Hypnos said. “Actually, that’s what I was discussing with your parents. You see, while I’m confident that we can achieve quick results, your powers will grow stronger as you go through your teens, and controlling them will require regular training. What we would like to do is enroll you in a special school.”

“School?” Richie was crestfallen.

“Yes. It would be a boarding school at a Justice Patrol facility in Virginia, just outside of Washington D.C. You would spend part of your time there and the rest of your time here at home.”

“Will there be other students?”

“Yes.”

“Like me? I mean, with powers?”

“Oh yes. The incidence of young people spontaneously developing superpowers has increased of late. There have been similar cases over the past few decades, but their number has grown dramatically. You will be in a class of perhaps a dozen students. Each student will be assigned a power mentor. Usually this will be a past or present member of Justice Patrol. In your case, I would be your mentor.”

“You’re going to teach me how to use my powers?”

“Yes, in a few short years you’ll be able to lead a normal life of…”

“You’re going to teach me to be a superhero? Mom, dad, you hear that? I’m going to be a superhero.”

“No, no,” Hypnos said. “This is not superhero school. We’re just teaching you to control your powers so that they are no longer a problem. That way you’ll be able to lead a normal life like…”

“What’s our team called? Justice Patrol Junior? Teen Justice Patrol? Do you need to be a teenager to join Teen Justice Patrol? I’ll be a teenager on my next birthday. Do we have costumes? What do they look like? Are they cool? I bet their cool. I’ll design my own. Where are my crayons?” Richie said as he ran from the room.

“I don't know if I'm interested in him being a superhero,” Mom said. “Sounds kind of dangerous.”

“Yeah,” Dad said, “you promised us that Richie would never be near danger.”

“He'll be completely safe. I assure you. Our only interest is that Richie and children like him aren't stigmatized by their powers. If that were to happen it would cause all kinds of problems. Trust me, we have no intention of training young superheroes or even encouraging careers in superheroics. Honest.”

Richie ran past. He had fashioned a towel into a makeshift cape. “Never fear, Mental Boy is here.” Mom and Dad gave Hypnos a doubting look.

Hypnos smiled as best he could. “Honest.”