Sitting in the coffee shop, Paul Barbeau remembered the exit interviewer’s comment.

“They say you are arrogant, insensitive, and act as if omnipotent.”

It was all true, of course, except for the omnipotent part.

That was not an act. He could do really do it.

Paul fluffed and smoothed his curly, salt-and-pepper hair. Little things were easy. Change a ball’s color, refill an ink pen, turn the page of a book, those took no real effort. But for complicated things, you had to know how stuff worked. Gears and chain on a bicycle had to move; it wasn’t just how they looked. They had to really work. Learning that took effort.

…

Eventually, Paul discovered two important facts. First, if someone wanted the same thing, they would boost his ability, and the more the merrier. Second, nobody ever noticed that things changed. If he pointed out that something was now different, they would deny it. Whether that was some rationalization or if their memory was affected, he didn’t know. What mattered was to get it done and not try to convince anyone that things were now different.

So, Paul kept his ability secret. And when he enlisted someone’s help, he never told them what they were up to.