Bonus:

Josh talked to Eric over breakfast at a greasy spoon by the highway — or rather, Josh mostly listened, because Eric’s shock at having a gift had resolved into a need to try to piece the last night’s revelations together.

“Josh, I’ve had this all my life. I called them ‘hunches’ to cover up the fact that I didn’t just suspect, I saw what was going to happen,” Eric muttered.

“Like with Glenn,” Josh noted. "When he tried to kill himself."

“Like that. And — I never get speeding tickets. Never.” 

“How fast do you drive?” Josh exclaimed.

“Let’s say that when I figured out this precognition thing, I did some reckless things knowing I wouldn’t get caught. In other words, I led a normal childhood despite my military dads.” Eric drank his cup of tea and grimaced. “This is not tea. This is brown water with a side of brown.”

“The coffee’s not better. It’s an oil slick.” Josh replied.

Eric took another swallow of his brown water. “When did you know about me?” he rumbled in his rough basso voice.

“About you?”

“About my gift as you call it.” Eric sighed.

“Since about fifth grade, when I couldn’t figure out how someone who was better at me than aikido couldn’t read the opponent. Then I realized that you could, more than most, and the shock at being able to kept you from responding in time. Like a stutter.”

“Good way of putting it.” Eric paused. “What exactly is your gift?”

“I think I see themes. Usually in symbolic form, to cram in all the possible message in the smallest amount of time. But then I get to interpret them. Good thing I’m an English major.” Josh frowned at his coffee, then changed his mind about drinking it. 

“What good does that do?” Eric groused.

“I don’t know. I think it points me in a different direction. And maybe I could point others in that direction through my writing.” Josh peered over Eric's head . “There’s also the other thing.”

“Other thing?”

“I think I can help Jeanne do what she does. Amplify it. I’m not really sure.” Josh thought back to the time in the park when Jeanne made grass grow, and the pulling he had felt in his gut when he did so.

“Huh.” Eric drained his cup of tea and shook his head. “So like if you keep hanging out in the greenhouse, JB94’s going to devour the both of you.”

“I hope not,” Josh snorted. “Though I expect Jeanne would be thrilled.”

A young, gangly waiter arrived with their food — Eric’s Trucker’s Breakfast, and Josh’s flapjacks with strawberries and whipped cream with a side of sausage.

“You eat like a kid, Josh,” Eric snarked.

“And?” Josh grinned.

“Oh, nothing.”