"Listen, when the specialist gets here, don't say a word. Understand?"

"Sure, boss."

"No, listen, Lenny. I am serious. Don't even open your mouth. I need to hear you say that you understand."

The young man seemed almost taken aback by how serious I spoke.

"I... Yes. Yes sir. I understand."

"Good. I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be a dick, I just... I'm trying to keep you or me or any of us from getting sued."

"I mean... Boss, is this guy... Is he dangerous? We're just doing utility work here..."

I sighed.

"Dangerous? Not really. But he's very specific - we need to watch what we say around him, or it could be disastrous."

I looked to the new guy, and saw his confusion hadn't lessened. He was still curious - too curious. I trusted him, but that curiosity made me nervous.

"Look," I explained, "I've only spoken to his assistant. Best I can figure: this guy, Rodgers? His ability is tied to his perception. It's based off of fixing things - fixing pipes - that seem broken... Specifically, things that seem broken to him. And how they're corrected is also based off his perception. So if you go and say just a little too much, and he starts to understand how this stuff works, maybe his power doesn't work no more. Or it'll start to work differently. That means our stuff doesn't get fixed, and he loses a lucrative livelihood. That's part of why he's very specific."

I shook my head.

"I'd hate to be on the bad side of a guy who loses out on a job that's pulling him this much dough this easily."

"Oh..." Lenny was quiet. "Alright, yea. I guess that makes sense."

"Believe me, it's well worth it, kid," I expressed. "That's why we're paying him the big bucks."

"Oh yea?" he questioned, and I nodded. "How big of a project is this? For him?"

I gave him the side-eye, then figured there was no harm in it.

"We're paying about a hundred-and-twenty-five-kay."

I thought Lenny's eyes might pop out of his head.

"He's getting paid what?!"

"Yep. And if all goes well, it'll be done in five minutes."

Lenny practically swayed on his feet, flabbergasted at the number. If we stood any closer to the road, I'd have been nervous, but at least the guide rail and barrier offered us some security from the 6-lane highway next to us.

I did motion for him to take a step back from the manhole in front of us, though. With only a 2-foot opening, it wasn't likely he'd fall in, but... Well, I've seen stranger things happen.

The sound of tires crunching on gravel made me turn my head, and I saw a large, shiny pickup truck, with a rack over the bed stacked with all manner of plumbing supplies, pull up behind our own utility vehicle. Two men got out - Rodgers himself, of the Rodgers' Perfect Pipe Fix, and his assistant, the man I'd spoken to previously, Franklin. With no experience and no know-how from the owner, this duo had become the most sought-after utility specialists in our entire half of the country.

"Morning, fellas!" I called out as they approached, and received the same in reply. Lenny, much to my appreciation, said nothing at all.

"This the location we talked about?" Franklin asked.

"Exactly," I replied, pointing downwards. "This one under the road."

Franklin nodded, and turned to Rodgers.

"Okay, sir. So... Like we talked about. This pipe is broken. The correct way it should work is: It should be eight-inch plastic pipe running straight from this manhole down to the next one. Normally they have joints every thirteen-and-a-half feet, and they're water tight, through and through. Just remember that picture I showed you."

"Got it," Rodgers replied. "Thanks. Let me get this done!"

With that, the super-powered-professional hopped down through the manhole opening, and began the twenty-foot climb to the manhole's bottom.

"I hesitate to ask," I opened up, once I thought he might be out of earshot, "But... Do you know how he discovered his power?"

Franklin chuckled.

"Yea. He bought his first house a few years back. Was trying to fix the drain trap for his kitchen sink. Got so frustrated because he couldn't get it water tight, kept flooding his kitchen and making a mess. Eventually, he got so goddamn angry he musta blew a gasket, and he said he stuck his head in the sink and just.... Well... You'll see in a second."

We peered down into the dim manhole. At the bottom, the trough was damp, but we'd plugged off the line further upstream, so no sewage actively flowed through the lines. Rodgers got down on his knees carefully, planting them on the shoulders to either side of the trough, and doing his best to keep away from any unpleasantness. He lowered his face to the pipe opening, the place we had issues, and just....

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He screamed like a man possessed. I couldn't help it - I recoiled in surprise, and maybe a little bit of fear. I had sort of expected it, but even still - I could hardly blame Lenny, who, standing next to me, nearly stumbled and let out a few curses.

After a minute, Rodgers clambered back up through the manhole lid, and Lenny nervously hopped back down to inspect the work. I shook Rodgers' hand with a word of thanks, and he confidently walked back to his truck, answering a phone call as he climbed inside to wait.

It was only a minute or two longer when Lenny came back up, his eyes like dinner plates.

"Boss, I'm sorry, but what the fuck? It's just... it's all gone! He just... he fuckin' screamed into the pipe and replaced like five-hundred feet of clay pipe from fuckin' nineteen-sixty-whatever with new plastic? What the hell?"

"No... Don't think of it as replacing stuff. Just that he fixed it. Sounds like he did the job, though! Thanks, Franklin," I extended my hand to the other man, who shook it. "Send the invoice to our office, we'll get it turned around with some of those grant submittals and see if we can't get you guys the money fast."

"Sure thing! Gotta get paid."

"Jesus," Lenny sat on the edge of the manhole, his legs dangling into it and his eyes staring into space. "More than a hundred grand. For like... three minutes. He just yelled!"

"Listen, bud," I said gesturing to the roaring highway next to us. "That man just saved us about six-hundred-thousand dollars and about fourteen months of work."

I turned to Franklin, and I couldn't help it - I laughed. Genuine, mirthfully, belly laughed.

"He's my hero. Tell him I'm his number-one fan."

Franklin chuckled, and began to turn away. As he walked towards the truck, he called out over his shoulder:

"It's a shit job, but it pays well! And the boss says he gets lots of stress relief!"