A skeptical man sat alone at one of the long rectangular lunch tables beneath an overhang. The structure was open on the sides, letting in the cool air and the smell of wet earth from somewhere nearby while still shielding the tables from the afternoon sun. People moved quietly in the background, eating and talking beneath the shelter, but Carlos barely noticed them.

His attention stayed fixed on this one man.

Something about him made Carlos feel that if he could convince this skeptic, he could convince anyone.

Carlos approached the table carefully.

“I can move objects with my mind,” he said.

The man looked up at him with mild interest, though he didn’t seem particularly impressed.

Without another word, Carlos reached out mentally toward a small object resting near the center of the table. The object slid slowly down the length of it, then drifted back again.

The skeptic barely reacted.

“You can do that with string,” he said calmly.

Carlos frowned.

Without responding, he motioned for the man to follow him and stepped out from beneath the overhang. After a brief hesitation, the skeptic stood and followed.

Outside, attached to the side of a weathered barn, a metal spigot poured a steady stream of water into the dirt below.

Carlos pointed toward it.

The man folded his arms loosely.

Carlos focused.

The stream of water twisted suddenly upward, curling into shifting shapes that bent and spiraled through the air. At one point it widened into something resembling an umbrella before collapsing inward again into a spinning funnel.

The man watched the entire display without changing expression.

“That doesn’t prove anything,” he said.

Carlos stared at him in disbelief.

The skeptical man offered no explanation this time. He simply looked at Carlos as though the answer should have been obvious.

Frustration crept into Carlos’ voice.

“If none of that convinces you, then what would?”

The skeptical man was quiet for a moment.

Then he said, “If you can make corn grow out of the root, I’ll believe you.”

Carlos blinked.

“What does that even mean?”

But the man said nothing more.

Carlos looked around uncertainly. Nearby, beyond the barn, he noticed a small garden.

Maybe there was corn there.

Maybe he could figure something out.

He hurried toward it and eventually found a bucket with several handfuls of dried corn seeds resting beside the edge of the garden bed, but by the time he turned back, the man was already gone.

Carlos stood there silently for a moment beside the bucket of corn, feeling rather frustrated.