A few, normal, menial tasks were given to them before the year's first, two big storms blew in; after the first storm came in, both he and Hazaar found themselves being given nothing but outside-based chores to do.
The first storm of the year blew in four days after he and his brother were rescued from their father and his crazy family; around fifteen inches of snow fell on day one of this storm—Hazaar found himself ascending the ladder to get the snow from the roof of the apartment on this day while he found himself getting the chore of getting the snow from the roof of their mother's car; the chore of clearing the driveway of its snow fell on both of their shoulders—and about the same amount of snow fell on the three days that followed—they found themselves getting them exact same chores to do on them days. A few rolls of insulation were purchased just before the first storm blew in; both he and Hazaar were given the chore of putting it up in the cellar and they were also given the chore of insulating the attic as well.
Everything froze up following the first storm; he and his brother were given a few, inside-based, menial tasks to do during the freeze-over then, when the second storm of the winter season blew in, they found themselves getting more outside-based chores to do.
They swept and shoveled the walk of its snow; they shoveled the driveway of its accumulated snow; either Hazaar ascended the ladder to clear the roof of the apartment of another two to three feet of snow or he did so; he was given the chore of clearing the gutters of their accumulated snow and ice on day two of the second storm while Hazaar was given the chore of de-icing the apartment's front porch and the slab of concrete that acted as the apartment's "back porch"; Hazaar cleared the roof of their mother's car of its accumulated snow on each of the days that the storm was waging war on their area; and they were also told to clear some of the snow that had fallen on the trees—this was done to lighten the load on the trees, which would save them the worry of one of the trees succumbing to the weight of the snow and then falling over on their living space.
Bile, during the three weeks that they were grounded, got better slowly; during his sore-days, he played himself well to the part that their mother had asked him to play—which was to bug him and Hazaar crazy during the daytime hours, when she wasn't at home and wasn't able to give them constant chores to do. They heard more than enough lip from him during them three weeks; Hazaar actually came close to plowing his face in on week one of their given punishment—it was a good thing that he hadn't done so because, if he had, he would of been given a few extra days to possibly another week "in the hole". Lazeer also got on their nerves during them three weeks—though it took him a lot of effort, he did manage to not snap at him during the period that he and his brother were grounded.
The constantly given, outside chores did do them and their bodies good; they were as hard and as solid as could be now and they had a few extra muscles to show off to the ladies. After being grounded for three weeks—after getting chore after chore to do during the three weeks that followed their rescue from their father's ship—their mother figured that they had learned their lesson; she let them off the hook—and, by the time that this happened, the year's third winter storm was forecast. In twenty-four hours time, they had more than thirty inches of snow fall on them; since they weren't required to go out to shovel the walk, or the driveway, or get the snow from the roof or from the gutters, he and Hazaar stayed inside—where it was nice and warm.
He had kept up-to-date on the newspapers all during their given punishment; there had been more than eight articles written on him and his brother since their rescue. He had each and every one of them in his folder, which was out and before him now. He was sifting through some of these three-week old newspaper articles slowly.
From the Sharlang Heruund, October 6, 4099 (Page 1)
HazaarVile Tlair Surfeit Found Alive
It's a surprise to all who've been keeping tabs on the search that's being conducted by family patriarch, TazirVile Lajoshu Surfeit, that one of the previously thought to be deceased younger boys born to Angel Irene is alive and well. Just three days ago word was received from the Surfeit camp, which is located on the lone-sentient possessing planet in the Milky Way Galaxy called Earth, about what's been going on with the camp's inhabitants; one of the members of the camp was fast in not only saying that everyone was fine but that an encounter with not one, not two, but three of Angel Irene's sons was experienced and that two of them three sons of Angel Irene's were retained in captivity for a short period of time before being retrieved by their mother. One of the two boys that were captured was LhaklarVile Closu Surfeit while the other was positively identified as being his younger brother, HazaarVile Tlair Surfeit; it's being said that both of them were noted as being injured just before the attempt to capture them was done. While there is no information regarding the injuries that the two had there is information known on how their injuries were treated after they were taken aboard their father's ship—any and all injuries that were noted on their bodies were healed via a medical table about thirty minutes after they arose from, what is being said, a drug-induced sleep.
The manner in which the young boys were captured is what's gaining the attention of both normal-day civilians and critics; many are not pleased with the given details of the capture and are asking for more gentle tactics to be implored in future capturing attempts. The camp in which the Surfeit clan have been living in for nearly two months has a hot spring located just a half mile from it; it was here where the two boys were seen and where the capture took place in. After being notified that the two were a half mile from his camp, Mr. Surfeit decided to grab a few of the members of his camp and then go and see if he could capture them; two Sleeping Darts, that contained enough So2, a drug that causes one to fall into an unconscious, sleep-like state, to put a grown man to sleep, were on his and another of his retrieved party's person at the time. Both were used on the boys right after a slight altercation occurred, which left more than two injured. Normal-day civilians and critics are asking for Mr. Surfeit to not use the So2 drug-containing darts again on his next attempt to capture his sons—it's known that the dosage in some of these manufactured darts isn't accurate and that there are some effects felt by ones who are under the age of 2,850 that can't be reversed.
"I understand the concern; the dosage size was very small, and the packet that the darts were in was read more than twice before they were administered. While no adverse effects were felt, or noticed, by my sons I will be mindful of using the darts again." Mr. Surfeit said after hearing of the people's concern of the darts' use.
According to reports spawning from the Surfeit camp, HazaarVile Tlair Surfeit, the secondborn son of TazirVile Lajoshu Surfeit, but the thirdborn son of Angel Irene, was healthy upon being treated for his injuries. His weight, for his age, is good; though being shorter than his father, he is said to be on schedule for his growth, which is surprising to some, seeing as the boy's mother would have had a difficult task at hand in keeping her three, surviving sons alive and fed during the times where Earth was encountering plagues, natural disasters, and climate changes.
HazaarVile, who was born on April 23, 2,399,093,908 at 6:01 a.m., in the mansion owned by his father, TazirVile Surfeit, wasn't conceived in the way that his half-brother, Bile Vile, and his full-brothers, LhaklarVile Closu Surfeit and LazeerVile Zuluduz Surfeit, were; he was conceived via artificial insemination after the curse that his maternal grandfather, Vile Vile, better known as Master Vile by many, was removed.
"As far as I was able to tell, he's very keen upstairs—seemed to not have any screws loose or any mental issues that'd hinder him from living a normal life." ShaamVile Kondee Surfeit, the boy's great-grandfather, said after being questioned on his personal opinion of the boy.
"With his being seventeen hundred years old, he's going through that age-appropriate phase of being extra moody—that was really all that was noted of him that was off; everything else seemed very normal." TazirVile Surfeit said when questioned on his secondborn son.
The boy, along with his brother, Lhaklar, escaped with the help of their mother, Angel Irene, who's known to be relatively handy with her Transformative abilities; the youth who was seen on Zeta Ren nearly two months ago has been mentioned by two members of the Surfeit camp as being of some assistance to the escaping pair. Before Angel Irene left the area with her sons she left a few clues on the identity of the youth who has yet to be identified; TazirVile Surfeit, and his family, are currently looking into her given-clues with the hope that the missing piece of the Irene Puzzle will be found and then affixed to its appropriate place on the puzzle board.
From the Chochaar Jun, October 7, 4099 (Page 2)
Information Regarding Surfeit Boys Going To School Not Being Found
As a way to garner some information on the Reezal boy, who was seen four days ago with his said-to-be mother, Angel Irene, and as a way to ascertain some information on LhaklarVile Closu Surfeit and HazaarVile Tlair Surfeit, who were captured four days ago only to be rescued by their mother and the Reezal boy, TazirVile Lajoshu Surfeit, ShaamVile Kondee Surfeit, and Vile Skujik Vile, better known as Master Vile on the latter, decided to pay the esteemed educational facility known as Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic a visit; it's been said that the three spent several hours in the school's archives room before making the call to drop the search. After eight hours of combing the school's vast archives, none of the men found a single file saying that their young kin-members had attended the school. In likewise fashion, when Mr. TazirVile Surfeit, and his stepfather, Cheshire Ubalki, combed the archives of the University of Telepathy, an educational facility located on the smaller of the three moons that orbit Zeta Looviniari, they found nothing saying that LhaklarVile Closu Surfeit or his brother, Hazaar, were students at the school.
"When I had them in my ship they used various spells and blocks that can only be learned from a three hundred-plus year tenure at the University of Telepathy; Lhaklar even said that he and Hazaar attended the school, and Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic. We're not sure what's going on—whether a lie was spun or if we missed something while doing our search—but we're hoping that, with the next capture, we'll get some further answers on their educations." Mr. TazirVile Lajoshu Surfeit said after being questioned on what he had found during his search of the University of Telepathy archives.
No word from DuruVile Bolushi Surfeit, the grandfather of the two boys who were captured only to be retrieved by their mother four days ago, could be gained on the search of the two schools' archives; LhaklarVile Closu Surfeit and his brother, HazaarVile Tlair Surfeit, haven't been seen since being captured and then retrieved by their mother.
The weather on Earth, in the general location where they, and their older brother, Bile Vile, have been said to roam, went downhill just last night at 2:13 a.m.; torrential snow, and freezing rain, has fallen and temperatures are near to freezing. It's being said that everyone who resides in the Surfeit camp, which is located near storm-ravaged Green River, Wyoming, will remain indoors until the weather clears up.
From the Zeta Orpicus Template, October 10, 4099 (Page 2)
Angel Irene Vile-Surfeit—Does She Wish To Come Home?
A week ago, when TazirVile Surfeit, and his family, happened upon and then captured LhaklarVile Closhu Surfeit and his little brother, HazaarVile Tlair Surfeit, they had a short while to be with the two before their mother, Angel Irene Vile-Surfeit, retrieved them from them. It's being said that, just before whisking herself, and the two boys, and the boy that Mr. Surfeit saw on Zeta Ren in mid-August, to an unknown location, Mrs. Vile-Surfeit had a small conversation with her husband; along with disclosing an interest in not returning home just yet she also gave a few clues as to who the child who she signed in on the sign-in sheet at Goggles For All as her son is. Though happy to receive her clues Mr. Surfeit is said to be more concerned over her lack of interest in returning home with him and his daughter, EshalVile Eskara Surfeit.
Owing to the leaked information, that was accidentally given by a member of Mr. Surfeit's staff during the early-morning hours of October 8, many are wondering if Mrs. Vile-Surfeit's actions during the retrieval of her sons don't show the true cause on why she doesn't want to come home yet. Along with being noted as being highly angered at the two boys that she retrieved from her husband's ship she was also noted as attacking several members of her husband's staff; her grandfather, KurukVile Shonsinu Surfeit, was also attacked by her during this period. All who were attacked were only trying to get her attention from the two boys and to calm her down.
"The spark's there—when she wrapped her arm around me, I felt that old spark that we had for one another. The question, at the moment, is why she didn't just tell me who her young son is and then stick with me after telling me who he is." Mr. Surfeit said upon being questioned on the information that had been accidentally leaked by one of his employees.
Angel Irene Vile-Surfeit's Universal and Family Husband's are said to be working on a plan on how to get access to the interior of the shield that surrounds the city-turned-town nearest them; with the weather being what it is on the part of the planet that they're on, they're not able to do much of anything but remain in their respective ships and compile information and come up with a plan on how they're going to find and then capture their wife and sons.
Bile Vile, the oldest son born to Mrs. Vile-Surfeit, hasn't been seen in nearly a month, which raises the question on where he is and on what his health status is. LhaklarVile Closu Surfeit, HazaarVile Tlair Surfeit, the Reezal boy, and Mrs. Vile-Surfeit haven't been seen in a week; all in the Surfeit camp, along with all who live abroad in the Universe, are hoping that they are staying warm, safe, and well-fed.
From the Zeta Honkoloth Gezat, October 21, 4099 (Page 2)
Reezal Bakerly—Who Is He?
It seems be-fitting that now, with it heading on two weeks since LhaklarVile Closu Surfeit, HazaarVile Tlair Surfeit, and their mother, Angel Irene Vile-Surfeit, were last seen, and with it now being a full month since Bile Vile was last seen, the Surfeit clan, located near the city-turned-town of Green River, Wyoming, would look into the information provided to them by one of their own nearly two weeks ago on the boy who was seen and claimed by Angel Irene Vile-Surfeit as one of her own on Zeta Ren in mid-August.
Reezal Bakerly, as he is called by many, was last seen on the day that his said-to-be mother, Mrs. Vile-Surfeit, and his brothers, LhaklarVile and HazaarVile, were; his mother left a few clues on his identity just before teleporting herself, and her sons, to an undisclosed location. For some, the clues that she gave sound a little similar to the facts that are known on her lastborn son, LazeerVile Zuluduz Surfeit, and, for others, the clues provided by her are irrelevant to the child that she gave birth to on February 13, 2499. Her clues were as followed: he was one of three hundred born on the same day that her lastborn son was; his place of birth is said to be Cawanuuk Hospital; the pregnancy with which he was produced from was a short, five and a half month one; and the doctors who were charged with his care didn't seem to want to put forth the effort on keeping him alive.
While some are screaming in saying that her given clues specify that her lastborn son is alive there's many others who say that her clues point to yet another baby who was born under the near-same circumstances that Lazeer was born in. While each birth is unique there are a few out there that seem so similar that it's hard to note the differences; most of the time, its twin-births where this occurrence happens and, as all know, Mrs. Vile-Surfeit has, to everyone's knowledge, only had single-baby pregnancies.
"As far as we know, the kid's name is Reezal; we have no idea what his middle name is—we're still under the assumption that his surname is that of what Angel signed him down with when she and he went to Goggles For All." ShaamVile Kondee Surfeit, Angel Irene Vile-Surfeit's great-great grandfather, said when questioned about his great-great granddaughter's clues. "While it's possible that his surname isn't what was placed on the sign-in sheet—we know that Angel's wasn't what was placed on that sheet—we don't know for sure if the name was accurately given or not. We're just as clueless as can be on what she gave us to go by."
"Reezal is Lazeer spelled backwards—we know this much as fact. We're nulling over the idea of her adopting a child and then giving him a variant of the name that was placed to the one that she lost—as a sort of honor thing, you know." Cyla Surfeit, née Dybla, said when questioned on her great-granddaughter's clues.
TazirVile Surfeit claims that when he had his two sons in his possession, his secondborn son, HazaarVile Tlair Surfeit, claimed that his brother, LhaklarVile Closu Surfeit, was already a father and that Reezal Bakerly was his son—in accord to Mrs. Vile-Surfeit's given clues, this makes no sense. TazirVile Surfeit says that the youth looks no older than sixteen hundred years of age which would put his oldest born son at being no more than five hundred years of age when Reezal was conceived and then born; LhaklarVile Surfeit was a child when Reezal Bakerly was supposedly born so this made-claim cannot be looked at with serious eyes. The youngest father on record was Puswe Macal; he became a father at no more than two thousand, eight hundred, and three years of age and his child, a son, was born with quite a lot of mental issues that stem from his father not being mature enough to produce healthy offspring—due to his age at the time of his son's conception and then birth, Puswe Macal had no involvement in the raising of his child.
So, who is Reezal Bakerly? Could the original assumption of Mrs. Angel Irene Vile-Surfeit coupling with another man, who aided her in the creation of the boy, be correct or could she of adopted a child and then pinned a name on him that's eerily similar to her lastborn son's name or could he be an actual grandchild of Mrs. Vile-Surfeit's who she's taken to the liberty of raising after his immature father refused to accept responsibility over the child that he created?
It seems to everyone, Surfeit and otherwise, that the only answer to these questions is to find Angel Irene Vile-Surfeit and her sons.
"Think you need a new folder," Bile said after entering their shared bedroom. "The one that you have is near to exploding."
"I need one of them ring binders—y'know... the kind that has them clear, or laminated, sheets in it." Lhaklar replied. "Been meaning to get one but—"
"Yeah, make up an excuse." Bile smiled. "Seems like they're finally seeing that they were wrong in the "only the older kids are alive" thing."
"Not really—they have yet to discover "Reezal's" identity." Lhaklar said.
"They that stupid? Flip his name around and—"
"They have—they're claiming that there's three things going on that could explain "Reezal's" existence. That she and another man coupled, then had a kid together who was named Reezal; that she adopted a kid, who was born on the same day, and in the same hospital, and under the exact same circumstances, as Lazeer, then named him Reezal in honor of Lazeer, who she lost to a plague or natural disaster; and that she took on the child that I fathered after I decided to not do the raising." Lhaklar said as he placed his folder down on the bed beside him.
"They that daft, eh? Who else could of been born like Lazeer was and, for the wonder, how could they assume that you're a father?" Bile asked as he grabbed the string that was up on the wall. With a tug, he pulled his bed, or cot, as he liked to call it, down. With the bed, which was all made up in a forest-designed comforter set, down, he got on it. "I can come up with an answer so much faster than they—even if he wasn't my brother, I could, and that's pretty damn bad on their part. I'm betting that a lot of others can figure out who "Reezal" is as well."
Lhaklar stood up, then stretched towards the ceiling, then turned to grab his folder; he took it over to the room's one bookcase, which was right beside the only window that was in the room. Due to his being a resident of this room for five years now, he could see the details, and all of the items that were on it, with his eyes shut; he placed the folder in its appointed slot then simply stood by the bookcase—which was, technically, his. The bookcase that Bile had used during his, Hazaar's, and Lazeer's tenure at the University of Telepathy had long since caved in on itself; he had exhumed the old bookcase that he had used before going off to his second education then he had said that he and his brother would share it—this bookcase was made of natural solid oak and it had six shelves on it.
His book collection was on the first two shelves; he had been an avid book-reader as a child and he was still an avid book-reader to that day. He had the entire series of The Hardy Boys—a series of books that had been created in 1926, by a man named Edward Stratemeyer, who had been the founder of the book-packaging firm called the Stratemeyer Syndicate, but that had been written by many different ghostwriters over the years with each book being published under the same collective pseudonym of Franklin W. Dixon—; The Black Stallion, which was Walter Farley's bestselling series; and Nancy Drew—a mystery fiction series created by publisher Edward Stratemeyer in 1930 that, like The Hardy Boys books, was written by many different ghostwriters and that was published under the collective pseudonym of Carolyn Keene. He also had the entire collection of The Boxcar Children—a series that had been originally created, and written, by an American writer, and first-grade teacher, named Gertrude Chandler Warner in 1927. The third shelf had some of the scrolls that his mother had gotten and then made copies of—these were important; they contained important lessons on how one with Elemental powers could achieve different moves, or abilities, in their powers. Even though their mother had been able to teach them all of what she knew she hadn't been able to teach them the advanced or the very expert steps that were in the power; in order to ensure that they had the proper knowledge on how one with this specific power used this power, she had made copies of each of her scrolls and then given him and all of his brothers one of them. He, Hazaar, and Lazeer also had some scrolls, and a full-length book, on Acidic powers as well—Lazeer was really the only one of them to of naturally gained this power, so he was really the only one who had taken the scrolls, and the book, to full heart. He, sadly, wasn't as equipped with his Acidic powers while Hazaar was plain lazy to learn how to use his—he had only learned the basics of this power before his Temperamental phase set in.
The shelves underneath them three were Bile's; along with his many hunting, sports, and knife magazines, he had a few dozen, well-hidden, nudie magazines of the first shelf that was his. There were jade figures of bears, rearing horses, and two glass Dragons on the shelf underneath that one and, on the shelf that was under that one, there was a collection of knives. The knives were all Bile's, as were the two glass dragons; Bile had let him store his jade bear figures and rearing horses on the shelves that he had taken as his.
The wallpaper that was on the walls of his and Bile's room had a brick design to it; the ceiling was a red-orange color while the carpet was a tinge darker—thanks to he and Bile dropping a cigarette, or a joint, to the carpet a few years back, there were a few burn areas on the carpet that they were trying to keep covered up. He had come close to creaming himself after coming home from the University of Telepathy—during his tenure at the school, Bile had taken the liberty of hanging a few pin-up girl posters on his side of the room; while he wouldn't admit it to anyone verbally, he was glad that these were up. He did get a "high" from looking at them and they did give the room an Older Brother feeling.
The poster that was beside his brother's bed had a rather pretty, and seductive, Rita Hayworth on it; it was one of them rare, black and white posters that, as of late, were rather collectible. Ms. Hayworth had been photographed as being on her knees on a bed; she was wearing something that looked like a silk gown, there looked to be lacing on the top of this gown. She had a very seductive look to her face, which was just as pretty as could be. Bile had found this poster at the local Flea Market a couple of years ago; he had liked it enough to buy it and then bring it home—from what he had been told, the poster had cost him just sixty-five cents. According to their mother, the photograph that the poster had been made out of had been taken in 1946; while she had mentioned herself as not being sure of this claim she had said that she believed that the photograph had been taken on the set of Gilda, which Ms. Hayworth had been acting in. Although their mother had been okay with the Rita Hayworth poster she hadn't been but so sure of the Raquel Welch poster that his brother had come in with a week later.
"Ms. Welch gives me better than fine dreams," he thought as he sustained the smile that wanted to creep across his face.
That Raquel Welch poster... oh yum! He was glad to have that up in the room and he was also glad that he was "allowed" to look at it. The lovely dish on the poster had been photographed on her knees; one of her legs was held back just a bit from the other, one of her hands was on her hip while the other was placed to her temple. Ms. Raquel Welch had been photographed while wearing a deerskin bikini, which looked damn hot on her, for a reason—according to their mother, the poster had been made to promote Raquel Welch's movie, One Million Years B.C. He and his brother, after learning the movie's title, had gone to find and then rent it; the two of them had watched it separately—Ms. Welch had been just as sexy in the movie as she was in the poster. According to his brother, he had found the poster underneath a pile of old, torn up posters at the Flea Market. It had been priced at just a dollar twenty-five; he had been so captivated by the poster—not to mention very aroused by the pose that Ms. Welch had been doing when the photograph for the poster had been snapped—that he hadn't been able to stop himself from buying it.
Their mother, though accepting of their sexual orientations, and though allowing them to express their sexual orientations, had been fast in saying that no more posters like that of the Raquel Welch one were allowed to be brought into the apartment; although Bile had obeyed her he had gone back to the Flea Market for the wallet-sized photographs that he had seen just after purchasing Ms. Welch. He had some of the most beautiful, and scantily clad, women lining the photograph sleeves of his wallet; he had seen them a few times and he had damn near creamed himself with each looking. Bile had bought each for a quarter each—his brother either seemed to have an eye for better than bargain buys or the humans who were selling their posters, and wallet-sized photographs, in the Flea Market didn't know what they had or didn't care what they had.
The first photo sleeve of his brother's wallet had a photograph of a very busty, topless Hawaiian girl, who was wearing a blue, wrap-around skirt on her bottom half, in it; in the second photo sleeve was a photograph of a woman who had been photographed half-naked, and who just so happened to be looking down at the photograph's barely noticeable floorboards. The piece de resistance was in the third photo sleeve; the woman, who was wearing absolutely nothing, but who had a thin piece of fabric lying across her waist, and who had one of her legs held up in a sultry way, was a bomb—as if to enhance this, she had a cigarette between her index and middle fingers and a heart-shaped charm necklace hanging down from around her neck.
How his brother was able to look in his wallet, and see her, and not get a boner was beyond him; he sure as hell got one whenever he saw that one particular photograph.
"My side of the room is a little more organized than Bile's; with Bile's posters being up on the walls, I really didn't need to put any posters of my own up—I still have a few, though." he thought as he turned to look at the side of the room that was his.
Even though he had two posters to his name only one was out and in the open; the poster of Uncle Fester, a character that Christopher Lloyd portrayed in The Addams Family, was very innocent in all attributes while the one that was taped to its back wasn't. A small, fully naked photograph of Ms. Marilyn Monroe had been found in one of the neighbor's trash about three years ago; after fishing the photograph out, then seeing what it was that was in it, he had taken it to the man who both developed and blew up photographs to see if it could be blown to being poster-sized. His mother would just about flip if she saw this photograph—though surprised over Hazaar's interest in Playboy magazines he wasn't totally new to them types of magazines and, in fact, the poster-sized photograph of Ms. Monroe was from the first edition of Playboy.
His most favorite item in the room, other than the posters, of course, was the bull Moose skull and antlers, which were both hung up above the headboard of his bed. He had taken the animal down a few months before his father, and his kooky family, arrived on the planet.
The Water Buffalo skull and antler set that was mounted above the door was Bile's; the rustic dresser, that looked more than a little beaten up, and that was either in need of being thrown out or repaired and then given a fresh coat of paint, that sat to the right of the door frame was also Bile's.
An eye-ball, paper-mache lamp—which he thought looked looked cooler than shit; when it was on, all sorts of crazy designs were cast out on the walls—and a skull-shaped alarm clock, that's eyes were where the time was displayed, was on the dresser's surface.
His dresser was on the other side of the door frame; it was made out of dark brown walnut wood and it had four drawers on it. The lamp, that he had made himself, was to the left of its surface—the light bulb, that was in the center of an ice-cube block, was permanently placed thanks to his use of a little bit of his Acidic powers. All he had to do was touch the top of his lamp for it to turn on; the same went if he wanted it to be turned off. Beside his homemade lamp was an upside down light bulb alarm clock—he had purchased this two years ago for twelve dollars.
The plastic box that his magazines were put in was under his bed; it was shoved back to nearly the wall. Whenever he got his monthly usuals, or wanted to read one of his older editions, he'd just reach under his bed to grab the box and then pull it out. The place where he kept his stashed cigarettes was also under his bed—there was a hole in his mattress that he used to store the items that he didn't want his mother to find.
"Ever gonna finish that model of yours?" Bile asked.
"Been busy these past few weeks—all I have to do is paint the engine, then the outer shell, and it'll be done." Lhaklar replied.
"What number does this make? Five? Six?"
"Four, thank you." Lhaklar replied.
Yep, he had his models as well. As a kid, he had found himself liking his father's cars so much that he had wanted to have miniature versions of them. This fascination of his had gone so far for him that he had even bugged his father crazy on questions on the vehicles that he owned and drove—the man, he remembered, had always been a sport with him and his constant question doing.
He had kept this interest of his after being moved to Earth; he had more than enough magazines on cars, he had books on cars that had been made from 1880 to 1940, and he also had a tin can that had cards in it that described the cars that had been made from the 1880's to the current day. As of the last few years, he had taken to building model cars; the stump that was beside his dresser had all of the models that he had built over the years on it. A red and silver Studebaker, that was based off the actual 1931 model; a dark blue Chrysler New Yorker convertible, that was based off the 1960's model; and a red Model A, that had a black top, which was based off the vehicle that had been in production from 1928 to 1932, that was what was on the stump that he was using as a sort of table. The model that he was currently working on was a 1941 Cadillac Series 62 4-door convertible; he was trying his best to paint it black and silver.
Even though he wasn't done with the Cadillac model, he had a good mind to grab a few more models; they were good to do when the weather was bad, or when there wasn't anything to do, and it was also a calm-based activity to do. The model store in town had a Buick Streamliner, a vehicle that had been made in the late 1940's, and that had very recently been returned to market, in it that he had been eye-balling for the last few months. He was also interested in the store's model kit for the 1948 Lincoln Continental Coupe—this model looked so badass... he bet it'd be fun to put it together, and paint it, and he also bet that it'd look nice with his other model cars.
"Lazeer went back to being depressed again." Bile said with a sigh. "He won't leave his and Hazaar's room—he just wants to sit, or lie, on his bed and gaze out the window."
"I know... I know." Lhaklar sighed. He pinned the blame for the family savings being dipped into, and for Lazeer not yet having his goggled glass, on him; if he hadn't gone out to the hot spring, and then gotten grounded after being rescued by his mother, they wouldn't of been forced into taking some of the money from their savings out to pay the electric, cable, and car insurance bills. Due to their having to eat into the family savings, and to his not being able to go to work during the weeks that he had been grounded, the seven hundred dollars that had been saved up for Lazeer's goggled glass had been downed to being just a little over three hundred.
"Hazaar's been trying to get him to join him in building that model train that he's been working on for months." Bile said. "No go—he just doesn't want to do anything but sit and mope."
"Hazaar hasn't finished his model train yet?" his head snapped up at this piece of information; Hazaar had gotten that model three months ago... to hear that it wasn't finished was more than a shock to him.
"No—last I heard, he just has the last car to put together and then paint." Bile replied.
"Doesn't Lazeer had any models to do?" Lhaklar asked.
"No."
"Weird—could of swore that I saw him getting a few models a few months ago."
They, like any other set of siblings, had different interests. He had his old, classic cars; Bile had his knives, pin-up girls, and wallet-sized photographs of sexy-ass women; Hazaar had his model trains and spaceships; and Lazeer... well, this brother of his had an interest in building model planes and dinosaurs. Lazeer had built four plane models, and around five or so dinosaur models, before the depression came calling; he had lost all interest in model building after the depression claimed him.
Lhaklar looked out the window; even though the sun was hidden, and it was snowing a little on the heavy side, he was able to see the snow-covered backyard. It looked like the snow was deep—so deep that it might just come up, and maybe past, his knees. The thought of his taking his younger brothers outside to play in the snow—to make and then throw snowballs, or to make snow-families—came to him right after he looked out the window. A smile pulled at his lips when the idea of their making snow-families came to him—Bile was always called over to destroy the families that they had made out of snow; he'd act all mean and nasty with them snow-families after they were built, named, and then dressed and they'd just sit, or stand, nearby and laugh at the "assault".
With the sun being hidden behind the clouds, and with the snow falling as heavily as it was, Lazeer could well go outside for a while; for all he knew, some time out in the snow might just cheer him up. The spell that their mother had done on the shield, which had made it possible for him and his brothers to both leave and then enter it without issue, had been undone right after he and Hazaar were returned home from being rescued; except through the tunnels that connected the cities, towns, and counties that were closest to them, they couldn't leave Green River, Wyoming. He didn't think that his mother would put up any fusses over their going out to play with the snow that was in their backyard—she had said nothing for or against their leaving the apartment after shoving off for work that morning.
"You never said what happened after you and Hazaar were captured." Bile said right when he was making a mental note of calling their mother. "Anything worth telling?"
"Unless you want to hear about how many times the old man spanked me and Hazaar, not really." Lhaklar replied.
"Spanked? You're what, over two thousand years old, and he spanked you?" Bile chuckled, then rolled over to his side. "I can imagine the shock that coursed through your and Hazaar's veins after he yanked you over his knee."
"We weren't yanked over his knee—he just swung his hand at us." Lhaklar said. "He also slapped us a few times; I also got punched in the stomach by him."
"Good thing I wasn't there, then. I'd of had him over my knee and—"
"We had a sort of meal with "the family" while we were there as well—man, they had more than enough to say on how we looked." Lhaklar was fast in saying. "I and Hazaar were said to be stunted—either too tall, or short, or too thin—and the man who made you said that you're too big and tall."
"Da phaq man—I'm big for my age but not so much so that I'm off-balance or sickly." Bile exclaimed. "They're just jealous because they don't have the genes to look as sexy as we do, Bro. Hazaar's not short by any means and neither is Lazeer."
"They also said that we had man's bodies—"
"Last time I checked, we are young men." Bile said. He sat up on his bed then started acting tough. "And some damn fine young men at that. Look at dem dames that swoon over us—they's jus' jai-luhs that they didn't get a goil when dey wuz our age."
"They also kept referring to mom as bad—kept saying that she neglected us and our educations, and that she's being a bad parent in letting us hunt, and go out on the town on our own, and—"
"Ma is the best ma in the whole damn Universe!" Bile shot up from his bed so fast that it made the springs in the wall snap free; his bed slammed up into its spot in the wall loudly.
Hazaar, who was down in his and Lazeer's shared bedroom, had a feeling about what all of the slamming and yelling that was going on above him was about—he had relayed all of what had happened while he and Lhaklar had been held captive to Lazeer a few hours ago; Lazeer, though a depressed wreck, had acted in the same way that Bile was. It really didn't matter if the kid was in a depressed funk or not; when it came to their mother, and her good honor, he cast any and all issues that were bogging him down to the side. He got serious, angry, and loud when it came time to defend Mom's Honor; he couldn't help but be proud of him.
Lazeer had been fast in saying that their mother wasn't doing anything wrong in accord to them—he had said that she was a good momma... one who let them have their privacy, and who allowed them to roam where it was safe to roam, and where they wished to roam, and who would let them bring home things from the dump, or the Flea Market, or from the convenience stores where their monthly magazines were purchased. The town that they lived in was as safe as could be; only a dozen or so crimes had happened in Green River, Wyoming since their, and Lhaklar's, return from the University of Telepathy occurred. If the town hadn't been safe, or if a crime happened every day, or every night, they wouldn't of been moved here—momma would want them to be raised in a good, healthy, safe town, not in one that was dangerous or that harbored people who were looking to cause constant trouble.
Their mother trusted them to behave themselves—to not get into too much trouble—and, though she'd accept them if they swung both ways, or preferred their own gender, she preferred for them to act their age and gender; they weren't suppose to stay home, play with makeup, or do them dress-up games that the girls did, and they weren't suppose to bake constant sweets or read them fancy girlie magazines that the opposite gender had an interest in or do the gossip-thing over the phone. They were suppose to have more manly, masculine interests.
Hazaar looked at his model train; the caboose just needed one more paint application before being complete. He was glad to finally be done with this model; now that this one was nearly done, he could move on to doing the next one—he had purchased a model engine a couple of weeks ago; it was one of them creepy, Halloween-theme engines that looked so cool. He had plans in the next few days, after the weather finally quieted down, to go out to get the passenger car, the freight car, and the caboose—the train just wouldn't be complete without having them three cars included with it.
He had started liking trains in his early hundreds; just the act of their zooming by on their runs, or just hearing their whistles being blown, was enough to cause him to feel excited. He liked the older model trains that ran through the town's train yard and station better than the ones that went through Rock Springs; the older model trains were so retro—so cool, and antique and unique—in comparison to them speed demons that rode the single rails of Rock Springs' train stations. He liked the steam that came up from the smokestack, and how the engineers had to keep chucking coal in to keep the train running and rolling along on the track; the trains that went through Rock Springs had long since been "upgraded" to being energy savers—instead of coal and steam, they ran on pure energy, which was pumped through the single rail that the trains ran on, and which was "absorbed" by the trains as they drove along. The ride on the old model trains was so much more relaxing in comparison to the ride that was experienced on them speed demon energy savers—the trains that went through Rock Springs were almost roller coaster-like... the rails that they rode on had all sorts of twists, turns, and loops to them that they almost looked like roller coasters. He had rode on one of them Rock Springs trains once—his face had felt almost like it was being ripped free of him, and his upper and lower body had felt like they were about to be ripped in half, and he had screamed bloody murder until the thing finally stopped. It had taken a lot of effort on his part to release the steel pole that he had been gripping when that screaming metal deathtrap stopped—his curiosity had been satiated on that ride; he had never rode one of the Rock Springs trains again, and he had surely never told his mother that he had rode on one of them. For all he knew, his mother, if she knew, or found out about his riding on one of the Rock Springs trains, might just throttle him with her concern and then come at him with more than a simple dish towel—she preferred for him to just plain have an interest in looking at pictures of trains, or reading books that were about trains, or watching trains as they rolled by on the train tracks.
"I'd of throttled them had I of been there to hear them talk bad of ma!" he and Lazeer heard Bile yell. "She lets us walk out on our own because she trusts us! If we went around, shootin' the place up, or had babies being dropped on our doorstep once a month, she'd not let us out alone much less out of her sight!"
"Snowin' pretty hard outside." Hazaar said. "Bet we'd be able to make some mean snowers."
"Probably." Lazeer mumbled.
"Or have a good snowball fight." Hazaar said.
"Probably." Lazeer mumbled again.
"Be a good reason to go outside, y'know. Get away from Bile, and his yelling." Hazaar said.
"Mom would freak." Lazeer's mumble was nearly inaudible.
"It's twenty-eight degrees outside—bundle up real good, and stay in the back. I don't think momma will get mad at us if we stayed in the yard."
"She wouldn't get mad—she'd freak and then ask us if we want to catch pneumonia or something." Lazeer said.
"Not if we had two coats, and gloves, on us and not if we had a hat on our heads." Hazaar said as he crossed the room. He grabbed his brother's bedding then yanked it back; Lazeer, who was in a fetal position, gave him an angry look before lunging for his bedding. "Going outside is better than you lying here, getting a bad back—you keep lying in that position and you'll get a badly curved back that'll make walking painful."
"Man, leave me alone! I don't want to do anything but lie in bed." Lazeer said. He grabbed his bedding, then threw over himself, then went as still as could be. Hazaar was fast in ripping his just-returned bedding back. "Come on, Hazaar! I'm in no mood to go playing in winter's fabulous wonderland. Only the ones who have no eye ailments are allowed to go and build snowmen, throw snowballs, and have fun outside."
Hazaar dropped the bedding that was on his brother's bed then went to the kitchen; he grabbed the phone that was on one of the kitchen walls then he dialed the number for his mother's cellular. The hell if he was going to sit here and watch his little brother mope, and keep himself all cooped up, when the backyard was more than full of snow to play with. Besides having a snowball fight, and building a snowman, or a snower, as he called them, or an army of snowers, there was their old favorite activity of going out to use their powers to make rifts in the snow. They could build snow forts that were several feet high; they could build snow castles, then pretend to move into them; and they could also collect a few buckets of snow for their mother, who might just want to make some snow-cream.
The number to their mother's workplace, and to her cellular, was on the fridge; the Food Lion calendar magnet was holding them to the fridge door quite well. The piece of paper that had her boss's, and a few of her co-workers', and Casey Cook's numbers on it was right underneath that. The phone that he had taken from the wall was red and green in color; the curly cord that connected it to its base unit was two feet long. After dialing the number to his mother's cellular, then standing around, waiting for his call to be answered, he became nervous; his nervousness was only increased a few seconds later, when his mother's voice-mail kicked in.
He hung up, then dialed Charles Binkleton's cellular, then waited; when his mother's boss didn't answer, he started to sweat. He started to wonder if there was something wrong going on at the store that his mother worked at. While shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he dialed his mother's workplace number; he crossed his fingers after dialing this number.
The breath that he was holding in was released after his call was picked up on the third ring.
"Hello, this is Christie Baker, how may I help you?" a pretty-sounding woman said after his call was answered.
"Is my mom in the store?" Hazaar asked. He pretended that the woman on the other end was wearing just a bikini, and had a Fuzzy Naval in her hand, for only a second before discarding it. "Her name's Angel Irene."
"She is, yes. Who is this that calls?" Christie Baker asked him.
"Hazaar—one of her sons."
"You hold on a second sweet-face." Christie Baker said. He blushed when she called him a cutsie name. It took about thirty seconds to a minute for his mother to get to the phone.
"Hazaar, what's wrong?" his mother asked. She had a nervous tone in her voice that he was fast to note.
"Nothing momma. I tried to call your cellular... you didn't answer." Hazaar said.
"Whoops, I must have it turned off." his mother said with a chuckle. "What is it that you're calling about?"
"Is it alright if I and my brothers go outside and play around in the backyard?" Hazaar asked. "Lazeer's right depressed and I was hoping that—"
"Are you four going to obey me, and stay your wee booties in the shield, and in our backyard, if I say yes?" his mother asked.
"Yes momma—we will."
"Alright, you four can go out. Make sure that you have your things on—it's cold outside. I mean the whole nine yards, Hazaar. Coats, gloves, hats, boots, and a scarf." his mother said. Hazaar felt like yelling yahoo at the ceiling—he was very excited over being told that he, and his brothers, could go outside to play in the snow. "I'm turning my cellular on now—if any of you need a thing you call me, hear me?"
"Loud and clear, momma." Hazaar said.
"Good, now you four have fun, stay safe, and please stay smart. Do your best to not catch a cold or the flu or pneumonia." his mother said. What she said next heated him up so much that he was sure that, if he went outside, all of the snow around him would melt. "I love you, Hazie. You tell your brothers that as well now. I love all of you."
"We love you too, mommy." Hazaar said, he wanted to give her a hug.
When the line went dead, he hung the phone up then ran over to the broom—he grabbed it up from its lean-on spot, which was the counter, then he started jabbing it at the ceiling. He made enough noise to cause both Bile and Lhaklar to both shut up and come down to see what all the fuss was about; they were only halfway down the stairs when he yelled that their mother had just given them permission to go outside—their yells of excitement over the given permission were just as loud as his. His two brothers went to the closet that was on the apartment's first level then started donning their winter wears right after yelling; he went towards his and Lazeer's room for his winter wears right after the hustle and bustle activities of his older brothers was heard.
His older sister, Eshal, had called him BroSis while he had been in his father's ship; he made damn sure to give his reflection in the mirror, that was attached to the door of his and Lazeer's bedroom closet, the good, ol' bird right after he reached his and his brother's shared room. There was no girlie-ness to him; he was all male and he was damn glad on that. He couldn't see how such a name was able to be conjured, much less spoken of in the verbal sense.
He was fast in sliding his shoes off; the heavy-duty pair of snow boots, that had been purchased for him two winters ago, were slid onto his feet just when he was reaching up to grab the gray and red striped scarf that was hanging on the closet's rod. While wrapping the scarf around his neck, he went towards his dresser; the top drawer of his dresser was opened then his gray striped toboggan hat was removed, he placed this item on his head quickly then went back to the room's closet. The last thing that he needed to grab and then throw around himself was his heavy winter coat—his gloves were in one of its pockets, so he wouldn't have to do much fussing or fretting over where they were.
"Lazeer?" he said after seeing no activity going on with his brother. "Lazeer, come on man! Get your ass out of bed—momma said that we can go outside, so get dressed so you can do so."
Even though he was under the bedding of his bed, he was able to detect the characteristic movement of someone shaking their head; nothing verbal was said from his brother.
"Mom said for you to go out—permission was granted for us to use any and all means of torture on you until you get up from bed and then start getting dressed to go outside." Hazaar said right when Bile and Lhaklar walked into his and his brother's room.
"If you don't want a big ball of snow shoved down the back of your pants you'll get up now." Bile threatened.
"You've got two minutes to get up before we grab you—you'll be thrown out in the snow without wearing a single thing to keep yourself warm with in T-minus a hundred and twenty seconds." Lhaklar said.
"I'm not going out! Leave me alone!" Lazeer yelled from under his bedding.
"Okay then, you asked for yourself to be thrown out buck-naked and that's what you'll get." Bile and Lhaklar started stomping their snow-booted feet to imitate their walking towards their younger brother. "He ho hum hah, here we come!"
It took more than enough strength to fill a grown man for Bile to not explode at his youngest brother; he tried to pick Lazeer up, and then dress him himself, and he also gave him plenty of threats to, really, no avail—Lazeer, though smaller than he, managed to fend him off and ignore his issued threats. Lhaklar threatened to pick Lazeer up and then throw him from the room's one window, which had since been opened by Hazaar as a way to warrant this threat actually happening, and he also tried the threat of calling their mother to snitch on him about his not wanting to go outside—again, this didn't work on Lazeer; he both ignored his brother and gave him the cold shoulder.
In the end, it took the combined efforts of all three of them to get Lazeer's ass out of bed and then outside. Bile grabbed Lazeer from his bed, then held him steady as Lhaklar threw his coat, gloves, hat, and scarf on; Hazaar worked feverishly to put his brother's boots on while also trying to not get kicked; and, at the end of their ordeal, they all carried him out the room, then down the hall, then out the apartment's back door. Lazeer was practically dumped in the snow a few minutes after all of this was done—due to the front and back doors of the apartment being locked, and all of the windows in the apartment being shut, he was stuck with having to be outside.
At first, it was just the three of them playing in the snow. They made soccer ball-sized snowballs then kicked them around; they had a snowball fight before deciding to send plain snow-waves at one another; tornadoes of snow were made and then used in a playful way; they practiced their Elemental Water power by using all of the various moves on the snow—due to it being a frozen liquid, they could do this with no problems—; and they collected a few buckets of snow for their mother. After Bile sent a jet of snow at Hazaar, which made him fall down to his keister, they started making snowmen, snow-women, and then snow families; Lazeer, after standing under the overhanging roof of the apartment for fifteen minutes, decided to become involved in the latter activity after it was started.
Bile's first snow-woman was very skinny and top-heavy—he claimed that he was going to marry her, then father four to five children with her, then grow old with her, before kicking her down and then stomping the hell out of her. Between each of them, two snowmen, one snow-woman, and then a few smaller snowmen were built. Bile was the one who went to grab the sticks from one of the smaller trees that were in the backyard; he affixed these branches to each of the made snow-people before stepping back.
"Man, how can these be called snowmen and women? The "women" have no breasts and the men have nothing down below the waist." he said after giving the created snow-people arms.
They laughed after Lazeer stuck a small-length stick down on the base of the snowmen that were said to be male instead of female; Lhaklar followed up this action by giving the snowmen that were said to be female breasts a few seconds later—they laughed so hard at this that they all started choking.
"Now they can be called male and female snowmen." Bile said after they stopped laughing.
Bile torched the snow families; the characteristic sound of fire popping was heard loud and clear while the sloshing sound of just-melted water was barely audible—they just about choked themselves to death on their laughter when Lhaklar started acting as the "preacher" to the snow families' funeral right after they were downed. With the snowmen down, and with there still being enough snow to play with, they set to building snow forts next; Lazeer was fast in throwing his fort together and he was also fast in throwing snowballs at their rumps—they paid him back for this "assault" by attacking his fort with big, medium, and small snowballs right after their forts were built. When the decision was made to put an end to their playing with the snow, they were all nearly exhausted—before the decision was made to put their play to bed, they had managed to shove a few icicles down the back of Bile's coat; a sort of race in the snow was done; they built walls of snow and then ran at them; and Lhaklar and Lazeer become something akin to snowblowers when they decided to throw nothing but snow at their brothers.
In all, they spent nearly two hours outside before decided to go in and warm up. Lazeer went into the bathroom that was on the apartment's first level then quickly took his wet things off; he tossed each and every thing that he had worn that had become wet in the tub then went to dress in something dry. His brothers followed in his example in doing the exact same thing. When Lhaklar came into the kitchen a few minutes after donning a dry pair of clothes, he found Hazaar making four cups of hot cocoa; two newspapers were found to be lying, all nice and neat, on the kitchen table when he came in too.
Lazeer made wise-cracks about how Bile had looked like a little girl running all about with the icicles stuck in the back of his coat while Bile checked to see if there had been any messages left on the phone. He opened and then read the two papers while the two did them two things.
"Hi ma! We got your message—we got Lazeer to go out; he, like the rest of us, had a blast." Bile said after checking the phone-made messages and then giving their mother, who had been one of the people who had called and then left them a message, a call.
"That's great! Glad that you four had a fun time. You four keeping warm? When did you all get in?" his mother asked.
"About eight... no, ten minutes ago." Bile replied. "We got you enough snow for your snow-cream—it's in the freezer, ma."
"That's fine, Biley. Snow-cream for dessert tonight it is." his mother had a happy tone in her voice. "You four make sure to stay warm, fed, and—"
"Ma?" Bile asked. He felt unnerved; his mother had just become disconnected. He hung the phone up then dialed her number again.
"We're sorry, this number is either not available or not in ser—" a recording started; Bile hung the phone up then started dialing Charles Binkleton's cellular. When he got the same recording, he hung up then dialed the number for the Food Lion that his mother worked at. When the call didn't go through he got very concerned.
"Ma's not answering." he reported. "She called—I called her, and we talked, then she got disconnected. I'm not able to reach—"
"Probably one of the lines got frozen or a limb from a tree—" Lhaklar started to say.
"From her cellular? I don't think so!" Bile exclaimed.
"The snow's falling right bad right now... the satellite probably got blocked because of it." Lhaklar said.
"I also called the store that she works at—no one picked up. It just rang then said unavailable." Bile said.
"Like I said, the weather right now is pretty bad—a tree limb probably went down and snagged a line. The crews will take care of it soon." Lhaklar replied.
"Have you tried Casey?" Hazaar asked. "Momma's friend?"
"No,"
"Try her, maybe she can—"
"Leave her be. If in ten minutes we hear nothing from mom then, yes, call up her friend." Lhaklar said as he placed the paper that he had been reading down on the table. "Quit worrying—mom's cellular always goes out when a storm's on us, and the line down at her workplace always goes out when storms blow through as well. She always calls back to tell us that she's okay after ten minutes pass."
Bile looked out the window that overlooked the kitchen sink; although it was snowing pretty badly there was no wind, so that wouldn't make for the line down at his mother's workplace to be out. He could see his mother's, and Charles Binkleton's, cellular being down because of the satellite being storm-disrupted but the Food Lion's phone line shouldn't be down.
Hazaar placed four glasses, that had steaming hot chocolate in them, down on the table; as he took one of the cups up, then sipped his cocoa, his hands shook slightly—he, too, was nervous about their mother's workplace not being able to be reached and about their mother not being able to be reached. Lazeer was quiet; he had nothing to say at the moment. He only looked down at his hot chocolate; he toyed with the drink but didn't drink any of it. Lhaklar, though trying to be the adult in the house, was also nervous; he forced himself to drink his hot chocolate and he forced himself to stay away from the phone. After two minutes passed, he placed his cup down then went to the phone—upon lifting the phone from its station, then placing it by his ear, he dialed the number that went to their mother's cellular.
All he got was a recording saying that the number that he had called was either unavailable or not in service; with this being noted, he hung up then dialed Charles Binkleton's number. He was met with the same message after only three rings. After hanging the phone up, then waiting a minute before picking it back up again, he dialed the number for the store where his mother worked at; after the sixth ring occurred, he hung up then turned to look at his brothers.
"Should we chance another grounding or—" Lhaklar stopped; Bile had turned around to look at him—his face, alone, was enough to tell him that he was worried about what was going on. "Alright, gather your things. We're heading out to mom's workplace."
"Are we going to walk there?" Lazeer asked. Bile and Hazaar had already gotten up and then ran to the bathroom that their winter things had been placed in.
"No, we're taking the Lucerne." Lhaklar said. He grabbed the set of keys, that were hanging on the cast iron, key-shaped key holder, that went to his mother's car after saying this; his mother's car, a Buick Lucerne, had been discovered one day in very poor shape—it had been nothing more than a rust-bucket then, and it had also been lying on one of its sides to boot. She had fixed the car up herself; had given it brand new, cream-colored leather seats, and polyester upholstery. She had also given the thing a whole new engine as well; the dark red paint that was on the car had been placed there by her too.
Lazeer, after hearing how they were to get to their mother's workplace, got up then joined his brothers in the bathroom; he started throwing his winter clothes on at once. Lhaklar joined him in doing the same thing a few seconds later.
