Chapter 34: Carl's Discovery
Carl appeared at the garage after school like clockwork, backpack slung over one shoulder, already talking before he cleared the doorway.
"So I figured out how to bypass the lock on the liquor store dumpster—not that I'm stealing, just testing the mechanism—and I think if you showed me that thing with the tension wrench again I could—"
The socket wrench on Ben's workbench flickered.
One second, normal tool. The next, a piece of painted wood shaped like a wrench. Then back to metal, the transition smooth as liquid.
Carl stopped mid-sentence. Stared at the wrench. Looked at Ben. Back at the wrench.
"Did that just change?" His voice was careful, tentative, like he was testing whether he'd imagined something.
Ben's Danger Intuition detonated with warnings. His first instinct was pure panic—use Silver Tongue to convince Carl he'd seen nothing, that it was a trick of light, that his eyes were playing tricks.
But Carl was watching Ben's face with unusual intensity. Not the manic energy he usually brought, but serious focus that suggested he knew this was important.
He saw it. Clearly. And if I lie now, if I manipulate him, I destroy the trust we've built. He'll know I'm lying, will feel betrayed, might tell someone out of hurt.
Ben made a split-second decision that terrified him.
"Yeah," Ben said. "It changed."
Carl's eyes went wide. "How?"
Instead of answering, Ben picked up a rock from his scrap pile. Held it in his palm, focused despite his power's current instability. The rock shimmered, transformed into a gold coin that gleamed under the garage's fluorescent lights.
Carl's mouth dropped open.
Ben held the coin for ten seconds, let Carl see it was real—or appeared real. Then he released the illusion. The coin reverted to a rock mid-air, landing in Carl's outstretched hand as ordinary stone.
"Holy shit," Carl breathed. "That's the coolest thing I've ever seen."
Not fear. Not suspicion. Pure, unfiltered excitement.
"Do it again!" Carl demanded. "Can you make anything change? How does it work? Can you teach me? Does Fiona know? Does—"
"Carl." Ben's voice was firm. "Stop. We need to talk about this."
Carl snapped his mouth shut, vibrating with barely contained energy. "Okay. Talking. I'm listening. But also this is amazing and you're like a superhero."
"I'm not a superhero."
"You can make things look different! That's literally a superpower!" Carl clutched the rock like it was precious. "Is this why you're always right about stuff? Like how you knew about the Kash & Grab before it happened? Or how you fixed things that were totally broken?"
The kid was too perceptive by half. Ben gestured for Carl to sit, waited until the boy was settled on an overturned crate, then explained as much as he dared.
"I can make things look different temporarily. It's not permanent—everything reverts eventually. And I can sense danger before it happens, understand how things work just by looking at them, and sometimes convince people of things when I need to. But that's it. No flying, no super strength, no comic book stuff."
"That's still awesome," Carl said, then his expression turned serious. "Is this why Detective Morrison's watching you? Because you used your powers for crimes?"
Of course Carl noticed the surveillance. Kid's been learning criminal tradecraft from Frank for years.
"Partly. I made some bad choices, used the abilities to survive. Now there are consequences."
"Are you going to jail?"
"Maybe. If I can't figure a way out."
Carl processed this with the same intensity he brought to mechanical problems. "Nobody can know about the powers, right? Because then they'd try to use you. Or hurt you to figure out how it works."
"Right."
"And you told me because I saw the wrench change, and lying would've made me suspicious." Carl nodded like this was obvious. "Smart. I would've told Debbie if you'd lied. But I won't tell anyone now. This is partner stuff."
"Partner stuff?"
"Yeah. You've got a secret, I keep it. That makes us partners." Carl looked at him earnestly. "Are we partners?"
Ben felt something shift in his chest. Carl was ten years old, impulsive, probably going to become a career criminal. But he was also loyal, brave in his chaotic way, and offering trust without conditions.
"Yeah," Ben said. "We're partners. Which means you can't tell anyone about this. Not Debbie, not Fiona, not even Lip. Nobody."
"I promise." Carl held up the rock. "Can I keep this? As like, proof that I'm not crazy?"
"That's just a regular rock now."
"But it was a coin. I saw it." Carl pocketed it carefully. "Does it hurt? Using the powers?"
"When I use them too much, yeah. Headaches, nosebleeds, exhaustion."
"So you can't just make infinite money or fix all problems." Carl looked disappointed, then thoughtful. "But you could use illusions for cool heists. Make fake jewelry, or disguise yourself, or—"
"Carl."
"Right. Not talking about crimes." He paused. "But hypothetically—"
"No hypotheticals."
"Fine." Carl stood, moved to examine tools with newfound awareness. "Is everything in here what it looks like? Or have you changed stuff?"
"Most things are real. I only use illusions when necessary."
"That must be hard. Having power but not being able to use it freely." Carl's perception was unsettling. "Like being strong but having to pretend you're weak so nobody notices."
"Something like that."
The garage door opened. Debbie marched in with her usual purposeful energy, spotted Carl, and immediately went suspicious.
"What are you doing here? You were supposed to come straight home."
"Helping Ben. We were organizing tools."
"Tools don't need organizing for an hour." Debbie looked between them. "What's going on? You're both being weird."
Carl glanced at Ben. Ben watched the kid make a choice in real-time—tell his sister the truth, or keep the promise he'd made two minutes ago.
"Nothing," Carl said. "Just guy stuff. Boring."
"Guy stuff is code for things you don't want me to know." Debbie crossed her arms. "I'm not stupid."
"Never said you were. But it's still just guy stuff."
Debbie studied them both, clearly skeptical, but Carl's expression gave nothing away. Finally, she sighed. "Fine. But we're going home. Fiona's making dinner and if we're late she'll be pissed."
Carl grabbed his backpack, paused at the door. "Thanks for showing me the thing. With the... organizing. I learned a lot."
"Anytime."
After they left, Ben sat alone with the implications of what he'd just done. He'd revealed his powers—partially—to a ten-year-old with impulse control issues and a developing criminal mindset. Carl's promise of secrecy was genuine, but kids weren't known for keeping secrets when excitement overcame judgment.
This will either be the smartest decision I've made—having an ally who knows the truth—or the stupidest. Carl will either keep my secret because we're "partners," or he'll tell someone in a moment of enthusiasm and destroy everything.
But watching Carl choose to lie to Debbie, to protect Ben's secret at the cost of his sister's suspicion, suggested the kid understood the stakes. He'd recognized this was important, treated it with appropriate seriousness.
He called me a superhero. Saw the powers and immediately jumped to comics, to heroes who use abilities for good. Instead of seeing me as a criminal using supernatural gifts for fraud.
Ben's phone buzzed. Text from Fiona: Dinner at 6. You're invited. Carl says you're doing "guy stuff" which means something's up. Explain later.
He smiled despite everything. Carl had kept the secret for all of five minutes before his behavior gave away that something had happened. But he hadn't revealed details, hadn't broken the promise.
Maybe trusting Carl would work out. Or maybe it would accelerate Ben's inevitable exposure. Either way, the decision was made.
Ben added "Carl knows about the powers" to his mental list of complications, acknowledged it was tied for first place with "Detective Morrison closing in" and "Marcus expecting monthly impossible tasks," and prepared for dinner with the family he'd chosen to protect despite knowing he was drowning.
One more person who knows pieces of the truth. One more potential point of failure in the lies I've built. But also one more ally who sees me as something other than Lucky Ben the con artist.
Maybe that's worth the risk.
Or maybe I'm just getting desperate enough to believe it is.
Author's Note / Promotion:
Your Reviews and Power Stones are the best way to show support. They help me know what you're enjoying and bring in new readers!
You don't have to. Get instant access to more content by supporting me on Patreon. I have three options so you can pick how far ahead you want to be:
🪙 Silver Tier ($6): Read 10 chapters ahead of the public site.
👑 Gold Tier ($9): Get 15-20 chapters ahead of the public site.
💎 Platinum Tier ($15): The ultimate experience. Get new chapters the second I finish them . No waiting for weekly drops, just pure, instant access.
Your support helps me write more .
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/fanficwriter1