Vernon Wrinkles looked up from the table of snacks, setting down his styrofoam cup of coffee to greet the newest entrant. They looked nervous, as was to be expected, but Vernon was compelled to make them as comfortable as possible. Greeting with an approachable smile, Veron stepped up and made them feel welcome with a plate with a donut in hand.

  “Hi there, I’m Vernon. Welcome. We’re gonna get started soon.”

  The newcomer looked down at the donut being offered, her lips firm as she contemplated it.

  “We also have coffee,” Vernon suggested.

  “I’m already kind of nervous being here. Not trying to spike my nerves,” she admitted, wringing her hands together.

  “Say no more,” Vernon said immediately. Nerves could mean an upset stomach that sugars wouldn’t help with. Transitioning quickly, he returned the plate to the table and picked up a small water bottle. “How’s this?”

  “Yeah, thanks,” she said gratefully, reaching out with her right hand and punching it clumsily. Sputtered and shaking her head, she grabbed it with her left hand and rushed to take a seat.

  Checking the clock on the wall, Vernon saw it was time to begin and headed over to his seat at the front of the circle of plastic chairs. Smiling pleasantly, he looked at the familiar faces and a few new ones.

  “Welcome, everyone, to Anomalies Anonymous. As we have a few new faces, I just want to have a few reminders in place. No Anomaly shall be judged. Whether good or bad. Just because you might find it better than your own, doesn’t mean that its owner isn’t in need of support. We’re here for each other. Before we begin, is anyone here with a potentially dangerous Anomaly we should be aware of? Not for judgment, just for the peace of mind during our meeting.”

  Waiting patiently, faces shot across the circle, searching for anyone with that category of Anomaly. Nobody offered, but Vernon kept his guard up. Some people were too ashamed to admit it, and they’d just hope to suppress the ability during the meeting. Regardless, he put on a confident smile to show them he believed them all, and the room relaxed in return.

  “Would any newcomers like to start us off?”

  Eyes rolled to the ground, inspecting shoelaces as no newcomer offered to speak. Vernon nodded, unperturbed.

  “How about a returning member?”

  A hand raised immediately. Vernon opened his arms, giving him the floor.

  Sitting up straighter, the man brushed back thick blonde hair and adjusted his tie before speaking. Clearing his throat, he looked around the circle.

  “Hello everyone, my name is…”

  The speaker blinked, stunned at himself. Shaking his head, he started again.

  “Hello. I’m…” Again, his own pause baffled him. Running another hand through golden hair, he looked around and chuckled, embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m a little off today.”

  “This is No-Name, everyone,” Vernon said. “He doesn’t remember that he can’t remember his name.”

  “Hello No-Name,” the group greeted as one, but that included No-Name, who didn’t realize he was being referred to. Instead, he was searching through cards in his wallet.

  “Ah! Okay, my name is…” The moment he glanced up from his ID card, his face went blank. Staring down again, he looked back up and held his mouth open as no words came.

  “Maybe you want to talk about some experiences you’ve been through recently?” Vernon prompted.

  “Sure. I was trying to log into my email account the other day, but I couldn’t remember it. I knew it was my first and last name, but it just wasn’t coming to me! But I did the trick you guys taught me last week! I pulled out my license and typed it letter for letter! It worked! So, I really wanted to share that. Thanks.”

  “Sick dude, that’s awesome,” Evan, another regular, said, applauding while others spoke quieter affirmations.

  “That’s all from me, just really happy to be making some progress. I thought Doctor Mayfield was crazy when he suggested I come here, but this was really helpful.” No-Name sat back down.

  A small smattering of applause met his contented look as he tucked his license back into his wallet.

  “Anyone else like to share? Your experience doesn’t have to be as pleasant as No-Names, we’re here to help.”

  A newcomer raised a hand. Vernon nodded earnestly.

  “So, uhhh, hi. I’m Ishmael.”

  “Yeah! ‘Call me Ishmael!’ Good stuff,” Evan nodded, looking supportive.

  Vernon raised a hand to ask for quiet and respect, and Evan and he shrunk into his seat, returning attention to Ishamel.

  “Yeah, so my Anomaly is that I sneeze different colors. It doesn’t seem too bad at first. Almost like a party trick. But I got sick one week, and I basically couldn’t go outside. Because when I sneeze red, people panic. And when I sneeze black, the ambulance gets called. It’s hard to convince people I’m fine when it looks like my insides are decaying. Last night I sneezed ?neon orange on the subway and the whole train car moved to the other side like I was patient zero.”

  Nods across the room in understanding and silent condolences.

  “Thank you for sharing, Ishmael. Is this something you’re looking for advice for, or were you just interested in sharing?”

  “I could take some advice, I guess,” Ishamel shrugged and leaned back in his seat.

  “You should take the trick to parties,” Evan said, nodding to himself like it was an amazing idea. “Kid’s birthdays? They’d go crazy for a bunch of rainbow sneezes. Bring a small container of pepper and you’re golden.”

  “I’m not sure parents want their kids’ entertainment to come from what looks like an unhealthy guy,” another group member said.

  “Ah, you’re so right. Really good point,” Evan shook his head to himself.

  “Do you carry around a handkerchief or something like that?” No-Name asked.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “I tried that before, but it just made it even more obvious that something was wrong when I sneezed.”

  With a slight crinkle in her water bottle, the last member to join the group spoke. “What about a mask? You try one of those? You know, a face-mask that you always leave on when you’re sick so people can’t see the color of your sneezes?”

  “No… No, I never considered one. That could work out pretty well. Not that I’m a fan, but at least people wouldn’t see the color of my sickness anymore,” Ishamel said, looking somewhat enthused. “Thanks.”

  “Nice one, girlie!” Evan said, snapping loudly.

  Vernon smiled, feeling immensely at ease with the conversation going smoothly. With the attention already on the newest member, he kept his eyes on her, hoping to entice her to introduce herself. With another tight crinkle of her water bottle, she reluctantly breathed in.

  “Hey, everyone. I’m Emily. I used to be right-handed, but now I’m left-handed,” Emily shook the water bottle in her left hand as her audience greeted her together.

  The room was quiet as they waited for her to continue. No-Name spoke before Vernon.

  “Can I ask what the problem is exactly?”

  “Hmm?”

  “How is that an Anomaly? Seems benign to me.”

  Immediately, Emily winced like she regretted being there. Vernon sat up and addressed the group sternly.

  “As a less-than-gentle reminder, we don’t judge others on their Anomalies. We should be grateful that a group of us can come together at all to discuss!”

  “Yeah, good stuff, Vernon! Keep the peace!” Evan said.

  “Do you have to do that every time someone talks?” Ishmael asked, irritated.

  “Ishmael,” Vernon warned.

  Evan looked casual. “Great question, my guy. Yeah, pretty much!”

  “Oh… What?” Ishmael shook his head.

  “My Anomaly. I’m a Hype Man. Gotta gas people up. It’s been put deep in my bones.”

  “Oh,” Ishamel suddenly looked embarrassed for his annoyance. “You have to hype people even if you disagree?”

  “Yeah, great observation man,” Evan snapped fingers while nodding his head.

  Ishmael shrunk into his seat at the praise.

  “Can we please keep our focus on the speaker? We don’t come here to interrupt, but to support. Emily, if you would please continue.”

  Emily’s eyes were stuck on her water bottle, crinkling it lightly. Sighing, she shook her head. “I’ll tell you why it’s awful.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to,” she insisted, eyes shooting to Vernon. “I was a guitarist. No! I am a guitarist! But now I can’t play anymore. Years of practice and my stupid fingers are reset, like they won’t listen to me anymore.”

  Looking up expectantly, she almost looked like she was challenging someone to question her again. Evan nodded rapidly, patting his thighs in quiet support of her anguish. As her eyes lingered on No-Name, he shrugged before speaking again to Vernon’s dismay.

  “I thought guitars could be played regardless of what your dominant hand was?”

  “Yeah, that’s kinda true.” Emily flipped her left hand back and forth, examining it. “But my muscle memory was all in my right hand. It’ll probably be faster to learn the second time than it was the first, but I don’t want to restart. All the chords I learned, all the finger positioning for notes are all jumbled now. Plus, it’s way more difficult to get a left-handed guitar.”

  “Can’t you just flip over a regular one? They’re symmetrical, right?”

  Vernon allowed the question without even a glance, seeing that Emily was opening up.

  “The notes would be backward. High notes are on top and low notes are at the bottom, flipping that equation would probably ruin me even more than having to strum with a non-dominant hand. I know it’s not the worst Anomaly out there, but it’s really messed me up the past couple weeks. It wasn’t just my hobby, I used to play gigs like at weddings and events.”

  “No Anomaly is trivial to us. Especially when it follows us for life.” Vernon noted.

  “I thought about that too. Like, what if mine doesn’t?”

  A few puzzled squints met her question and she continued.

  “I mean, like, what if I invest all this time in relearning how to do things with my left hand and then one day I… ‘Sleep’ the same way I Awakened? It feels like I’m being asked to invest in a company that just appeared and could go bankrupt any second.”

  “Pretty optimistic to think Anomalies will just go away,” No-Name pointed out.

  “Yeah, but they appeared without explanation. What’s to stop it from going the other way?”

  “What if switching back makes you ambidextrous?” Ishamel suggested.

  “I feel like that would have already happened if that was the case when I went from right to left-handed.” Emily shook her head.

  “Nice share!” Evan applauded. “You really thought it through.”

  A few somber nods met her, seeing the predicament. Vernon smiled, feeling like the simple act of her sharing was already great progress. Perhaps future sessions could be used to find better solutions. Allowing the silence to stretch, Vernon opened his palms for anyone else to take the floor.

  Ishamel sneezed into his elbow, coming away and showing a sick purple splotch. Sputtering in annoyed embarrassment, he got up to grab a napkin.

  “Nice sneeze!” Evan stuck a thumbs up.

  “Vernon, can I ask you a question?” Emily asked, her posture more confident than minutes earlier.

  “Of course!”

  “Do… Do you have an Anomaly too? Is that why you started this to begin with?”

  “I have an Anomaly, and it’s the exact reason I started this support group,” Vernon said, stating the fact elusively.

  “May I ask what it is?”

  The group put their full focus on him. It was the first time someone had the guts to even ask the question and he wasn’t about to be a hypocrite and turn down the question, despite the embarrassment it would cause him. Plus, he didn’t really have a choice.

  “I have the compulsive need to start support groups.”

  Ishamel stopped before sitting back in his seat, rubbing a napkin on his sleeve slowly. “Wait… This is all because of your Anomaly? Do you even believe half the stuff you say?”

  “I am compelled to say what I think would be the best thing to share to maintain the support group.”

  “What is happening right now?” No-Name asked, disturbed. “Are any of these your actual, honest thoughts, or is your Anomaly talking to us right now to try and keep the group going?”

  “I assure you I speak from the heart.”

  “Can someone that’s more regular to the group tell me if he’s bluffing?” Emily asked the group, water bottle held between her legs and sliding back a little in her chair.

  “This is new information,” Evan said. “Good job asking the question, Emily, I never would have noticed. You’re a good addition to the group.”

  “Somehow even knowing your Anomaly is forcing the compliment is still more endearing than whatever’s going on with Vernon.”

  “Do you even want to be here?” Ishamel pointed a finger at Vernon.

  No. Absolutely not. Please leave and end this support group.

  “Of course! Anomaly or not, this has really become my passion. And hearing all of your stories helps me deal with the one that plays with me like a puppet.”

  Rather than see that as the cry for help it was, the room seemed to relax. His power danced around them and held his body hostage whenever he was in the middle of a session. His joy was connected very directly with whether the sessions went well, and he felt physically ill when things went wrong. The words that came to his lips sometimes felt like they sprouted from a brain other than his own, knowing he didn’t care nearly as much as he entreated the members of his group.

  “Anomaly or not, this group has definitely helped me,” No-Name said, “I’m gonna keep coming.”

  Vernon felt his dopamine surge, but his smile remained plain.

  “No one said anything about leaving!” Evan said. “You guys are the only people I meet up with regularly. Thanks for setting this up, Vernon. You’re great.”

  “My pleasure.” He smiled. “Emily, did you have anything else to ask or share?”

  “No, that was it for me.” Even the newcomer looked at ease.

  His power forcing a smile, Vernon just wanted to leave. More than anything, he wanted to stop the event from continuing. Such a hole of time eaten away from his week. The strangers and their issues needed to stop coming to him.

  “Excellent,” Vernon said. “Please, there’s nothing I want more than to continue to hear from you. Who’s next?”