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<br/>​</div><b>"Guess they don't have Chicken Fried Steak where yer from?" </b>Trevan asked, releasing a chuckle with a curious gleam lingering in his aquamarine eyes.<br/><br/>Trevan enjoyed home cooked cuisine, and the<i>Opera Cafe and Coffeehouse </i>was his favorite place to find comfort food. Freshly baked buttermilk biscuits were brought out to their table in a basket covered by a checkered cloth napkin. Trevan brought a fresh, warm biscuit to his nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled rich, promising a delightful taste.<br/><br/>Picking up a knife, he applied copious amounts of thick, creamy yellow butter that accompanied them. After splitting the biscuit down the middle. he slathered butter between its fluffy white inside. Trevan ripped off a chunk, stuffing the piece into his mouth. It was soft and warm. The pleasant smoothness of the buttery biscuit was everything he could have possibly imagined as far as taste went.<br/><br/>Unfortunately for Trevan, he grew up in a fundamentalist Christian family. As a child, Trevan believed that his family was normal, and better than most Christian families. It wasn't until he came out as gay that the truth of his family dynamics came to light. His eyes were finally opened to the reality of his childhood—the control, the manipulation, the twisting of Scripture for the purpose of power and control, the complete lack of grace or compassion.<br/><br/>Instead of being embraced by the kind of unconditional love and support his family could provide, he was immediately rejected and condemned. To his parents and siblings, Trevan was an abomination that strange and meant to stay distant from the grace of God because of his satanic gift and his abnormal desires of the flesh of other men.<br/><br/>There was no mother or father to miss him or vice versa, no Christmases spent around a warm hearth surrounded by a loving family. No hot home-made meals to share or brag about to his friends. In his parents spiritually abusive home, protecting their family image was more important than honesty or integrity. Public disobedience was punished more harshly than disobeying them privately.<br/><br/>Protection of the family image was accomplished at all costs, and to preserve the image of perfection Trevan was banished from their family. Hindsight being 20/20, Trevan didn’t expect their response to be warm, but he certainly wasn’t expecting them to tell him that he was dead to them, either. Or that they actually wished for their freak son to burn in Hell.<br/><br/>Friends replaced family, although it took time for Trevan to recover from the spiritual abuse he received and learn how to make it on his own in the harmful world his parents sought to shield him and his siblings from. He turned to using his psychic gifts to make ends meet, rather than continuing to believe he was the spawn of Satan because he possessed the ability to see beyond the veil.<br/><br/>Trevan didn't work on paranormal cases for the fame or the fortune involved. He did it to genuinely provide assistance to troubled homeowners and renters that had gotten sucked into cohabitating with benign and sometimes malevolent spirits in their home. At the urging of a spirit, he provided an early warning to those in need of one.<br/><br/>Like the waitress that ran away in a panic when he gave his urgent message in a disembodied voice. The trance-like state was transient and once it had passed, was as if nothing had transpired. Another waitress was soon there at their table to replace the hysterical one that dashed off to take their order. Trevan's belly rumbled as he thought of what sides he would choose with the entree.<br/><br/>When Tolek expressed an interest in an entree other than the chicken fried steak, Trevan paused to look at the item Tolek pointed out on his menu.<br/><br/><b>"That sure looks good. Don't think I've ever had that one before, Tolek."</b><br/><br/>The new waitress, Gail, stood with pencil poised over her pad to take down their order.<i> "Will ya be havin' that Sir? what sides do ya want with that?"</i>she asked Tolek.<br/><br/>As soon as Gail received Tolek's order, she turned to Trevan to take his.<i>"Whatcha havin' sugar?" </i>she smiled.<br/><br/><b>"I'll take the Coffee Rubbed Flank Steak, medium rare, with a side of mac an' cheese and some corn casserole, please. Oh an' a sweet tea. Thank ya ma'am."</b>Trevan replied, folding the menu up and handing it to the waitress after she'd written down both of their orders.<br/><br/>Repeating the order back to ensure accuracy, Gail said,<i>"I'll get this back to the kitchen for ya, and your food will be out shortly."</i><br/><br/>Gail paused at the next table to pick up some dishes needing to go back to the kitchen on her way there with their order, and Trevan resumed the conversation with Tolek.<br/><br/><b>"Nope, you ain't cursed, least I don't think so,"</b>Trevan replied.<br/><br/>While they were talking, Gail brought them their beverages and stepped away to serve another table. Trevan picked up his glass of sweet tea and took a sip of its icy cold refreshing flavor, still listening to Tolek as he explained his psychic gift. So far Trevan had grasped the fact that Tolek had been able to sense spirits since the age of twelve.<br/><br/><b>"Well shoot. How did the visions start for ya then? Did ya have some kind of accident that kicked things off for ya? I've heard stories 'bout psychic abilities startin' 'round puberty. Wasn't that way fer me. I had it since the start. Reckon I'm different." </b>Trevan replied.<br/><br/>Trevan became a little more concerned when Tolek mentioned the part about the pair of spirits that had attached themselves to him, and Trevan silently contemplated whether to ask him if they came and went or if they just lingered around as he sat there listening. Trevan also wondered if their presence explained the strange sensation he had upon their initial meeting.<br/><br/>He decided to delay asking Tolek the question, mainly because Tolek seemed a little anxious about discussing the topic and Gail was on her way over with their meal. He liked Tolek, and thought he could be an asset to the paranormal team, but needed to spend more time with him to figure things out.<br/><br/><b>"Dontcha worry 'bout it Tolek, I reckon it ain't easy to talk about that kind of stuff. I know it wasn' easy fer me when I did either."</b><br/><br/><b>"Sure thing, Tolek. We got time before the lockdown to git er done. I'd love to show ya Austin, there's alot to see an' do. Depends on whatch'er into," </b>he laughed.<br/><br/>As Gail paused at the table with what appeared to be a ton of plates balanced on her arms, she clarified where the entrees were going<i>," Coffee Rubbed Flank Steak, medium rare, with mac n' cheese and corn casserole," Gail said, shuffling plates like a well coordinated balancing act, to set Trevan's plate down in front of him, "Mind the plates honey. They hot."</i><br/><br/>Gail had another plate ready to serve Tolek.<i> "Brisket, and here's your sides Sir Mind the plate, don't wantcha gettin a nasty burn. Do y'all need steak sauce, ketchup or extra barbecue sauce?"</i>she asked, pouring refills of whatever Tolek was drinking, and topping off Trevan's sweet tea.<br/><br/><b>"I'm all good here, ma'am. "</b>Trevan replied, assuming everything was good with Tolek, because he was ready to dig in.<br/><br/><i>"Doskonały!" He exclaimed and slipped into his Polish tongue.</i><br/><br/><b>"Dawg-skin-olly? What's that mean, Tolek?"</b>he grinned, curiously wanting to know the meaning of the strange word.<br/><br/><b>"And so...what kinds of things do ya like doin' in yer spare time?" </b>he asked, while cutting into his well-seasoned flank steak and enjoying Tolek's company.