In the hours that waned between his family's return to the house and supper he paced his office; while he had feared something like what happened earlier happening he hadn't thought about his sons seizing up or about the reporters docking their boat at his pier and then making a rush towards them. Bile had been led to the house by Kalach while Hazaar, who had been too far-gone to move under his own power, had been carried by the Gzujus twins. Bile had been escorted to his bedroom chamber, where he had remained for thirty minutes before leaving to go down to one of the house's game rooms, while Hazaar had taken hours to return to being normal.
His intention had been for his sons to have a bit more freedom, and to be able to explore the yard that was theirs; he hadn't thought about the reporters making any brash decisions on charging at his sons, or snapping their pictures, or about his staff having to escort one or more of his sons to the house after they experienced a black-out.
Angel had been a frantic mess earlier; he presumed that she still was. As if the fight between them wasn't enough for her she had also had to deal with her two sons being reporter-assaulted. He had forgotten all about Lazeer having a photo sensitive eye and he had also forgotten what sensitivity he had inherited from him—mild-severe dammit! While he had the severe ailment his youngest son had the mild-severe ailment... why hadn't he remembered that and why, for the wonder, had he not stopped himself in going to remove Lazeer from the porch? He was a smart man... a smart man who had done a very stupid move that had probably cost him all of what he had achieved over the week and six days that his family had been fully returned to being under his roof!
Eshal was in a fit, still; with seeing her mother fighting him, and with her also seeing her mother push him against the porch railing and then keep him pinned to that post, she had grown fearful for his well-being. In the three hours that lapsed between his and his wife's fight, and the reporters making an appearance, and his two sons being either escorted or carried to the house, he had had to sit her down and talk it out with her on what happened and on what caused the events of what happened to happen.
Angel, his beloved wife, had been acting as any other mother who had seen her child as being threatened would; she had reacted on pure instinct to protect Lazeer and she had been fast in teaching the one who had been trying to hurt him a lesson. Eshal, he feared, hadn't listened or taken any of what he had said to her in; she was now saying that she didn't want anything to do with the woman who had adopted her and she was also saying that she wanted nothing to do with her brothers—the understanding, patient side of him had fallen at just that moment. His daughter had been reprimanded, and then told that she didn't know what she was saying or the meaning behind her words, then she had been sent to her chamber. He was holding onto the hope that some time in her chamber would do her some good in calming down and in coming to her good senses.
He had been told about the model kits, the knives, the magazines, the cookbook, and the sewing and knitting equipment that Angel had gotten for the boys and Eshal; Angel, during his absence, had taken a trip to Earth. He wasn't sweating the trip that she had made—she had come back hadn't she? Instead of having to track her and the boys down, then going through the same routine that he had done between finding them as being missing and then finding where they were, she had returned to the mansion. The ten minutes that followed breakfast had been spent in his sons' chambers—all of what Angel had gotten for the boys had been checked, but none of it had been removed. He had moved a few of the books and magazines that were present on the boys' bookcases; by doing that, he had found the magazines that had been retrieved for them—he had just noted the magazines' presence before making the decision to leave the chambers and then go elsewhere in the house.
With Lazeer having three boat models in his chamber, he was under the impression that he liked boats—this went well with the rest of what he knew about the boys. Now he could add something new to his list of items that the boys seemed to have an interest in. Bile had his knives; Lhaklar had his vintage cars; Hazaar had his spaceships and trains; and Lazeer had his planes, model representations of prehistoric beasts, and boats—all very normal interests for ones their age.
Lazeer, the poor boy that he had tried to porch-evict earlier, had gone up to his chamber right after Lhaklar had escorted him into the house; the model of the Queens Ann Revenge had been worked on right after he reached his room. Lhaklar had taken a trip to the mansion's library; three books, that looked rather heavy, had been retrieved from the library and then taken up to his room. They had been returned to the library two hours later. Lhaklar had been a book-worm as a child; it looked like he was still a book-worm as a mid-teenager—like with the rest of what he knew about the boys, this was good to know.
His wife, as far as he knew, was still making her rounds between the boys' chambers; she was checking on the boys, and making sure that they weren't stressed out, or suppressing any feelings that they shouldn't be suppressing. He was holding onto the hope that she'd calm down—she was worried about the boys, and her worry was being expressed in the right area, but he worried that she might be too worried. The idea of her actually running off with the boys after today's events was enough to make him want to cry—he didn't want to lose her or their children and he didn't want to go through a repeat of what he had gone through after finding them as missing sixteen hundred years ago.
He paced his office a dozen to two dozen more times before deciding to use the phone that was on his desk; the landline, three days ago, had been "severed" as a way to help his wife, who hadn't needed to be bogged down with having to answer the phone or taking down message after message for him. After getting home, he had returned the landline to working order—only one call had come in since the line was returned to being able to be used. Once seated, he grabbed the handset to the black French phone; the rotary was used around twenty times before he sat back in his chair.
"Hello, you've reached the Ubalki residence, how might I help you?" the voice that answered was unmistakable—Qeeta, his younger and only full-sibling, was the one on the phone's other end.
"You really need to think about becoming a secretary, Sis." TazirVile said.
"Tazzy!" QeetaVile exclaimed. "How are you? It's been nearly two weeks since—"
"I've been very busy, Sis." TazirVile said. "Is mother around? I need to speak with her."
"Mom!" TazirVile held the phone away from the side of his head; his sister was screaming for their mother.
"Tazir," his mother's voice rang true a few minutes later, "was wondering when we'd hear from you. What's going on?"
"Think I'll be paying you fine people a visit here in a few days," TazirVile relayed. "L—"
"Paying us a visit? How've things been with the boys? With Angel?"
"Going slow, but that's normal and good—I don't want things to go but so fast over here." TazirVile replied. "Me and the wife have had a few fights—normal ones, and on normal things. The most recent one happened earlier this morning. The recent one that we had is the reason to why I'll be coming over to pay you and yours a visit."
"What happened? You tell me all that happened and you leave not a detail out."
He didn't do the full extent of what had been demanded of him—while he spoke of what was going on with Angel and the boys, and with him, he didn't speak of how Eshal felt about the boys, or her mother, for that matter. He felt that he could handle that area, and that he could turn Eshal around. After telling his mother about the happenings of his house, and then about his going to Brol to see if the two court orders that revolved around Bile were still good, he listened as she spoke of things that were going on at her place—he was one to call the place the old farm and he didn't stray from using that title during that part of the conversation. When he said that there was a fifty percent chance that he, his wife, and Lazeer were going to swing over to say hello he was surprised to hear his mother saying for him to not do so—after hearing what he had planned for tomorrow, she said for him to just scratch the visit.
His old plan of simply mailing his mother's, and her family's, invites to them was still in place after his call was concluded. Once he and his mother's conversation was over, he hung the phone up then got up from his chair. He stretched, then gave his office a quick once-over, then went down to the house's smaller kitchen.
He wasn't in the kitchen no more than five minutes before finding his daughter jumping at him.
"I feel like it was a big mistake to find and then bring them here." Eshal said. "They give off a bad vibe."
"Eshie, you're scared and for no good reason. Your mother was defensive towards me for a reason. I was trying to—"
"Get him to leave the porch and then explore the yard—I know, daddy. You told me." Eshal interrupted him. "I think she's lying about his eye. I don't think Lazeer's got a thing wrong with his eye."
"He does, Eshal. He does have a form of my eye ail—"
"How can you be sure of that?" he found himself as being interrupted again. "He could be faking the pain, and the scream, and he could also be faking the fact of his eye hurting him after he goes out in sun or ray-light." it was quiet between them for a few minutes before she said, "I think she has only them on her mind and in her heart, daddy. She's forgotten all about us, and about the love that she had for us."
"Eshal, I'm only going to tell you this once." he was sick of hearing his daughter speak like this. She was letting her fear take her over, which was a very unwise and unhealthy thing to do. "Your mother's instincts are wrapped around you and your brothers—she acts according to you kids, honey. She loves all of us dearly, and that does include me—when time comes around for her to defend you kids, I get placed as the seventh in the line... as it should be, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't love me. When you're a parent, your kids govern your every action."
"It shouldn't be that way!" Eshal exclaimed. She said no more; she threw her hands up then left the room.
Angel's home-cooked fish had tasted delicious; there was still a little bit of what Lhaklar had caught, and that Angel had cooked, so he fixed that up for lunch. The meat from Lhaklar's deer had been cooked and then a quarter eaten during his absence; he made himself a venison sandwich then, after careful thought, he made his sons one too. A meal of lobster had been consumed yesterday so he took the remnants of that then made a salad; once the meal, which, in his standards, was very light, was complete, he pressed the button that'd alert his family about lunch being ready then he went to the dining room. He placed all of what he had prepared on the table then waited; his family, Eshal and his wife included in the mix, joined him two to three minutes later.
He found himself as getting a surprise after Angel took her seat. She reached over, grabbed his hand, then pulled him over for a hug and kiss.
"And what's that for?" he asked playfully.
"An apology, of sorts. I shouldn't of jumped all over you earlier." Angel responded. "Instead of jumping at you, then pushing you against the porch post, I should of reminded you about Lazeer having a form of P.S.E."
"Don't you put further worry in on it, My Love." TazirVile said. "You was protecting our child. I, as his father, should of remembered that he has the ailment in one of his eyes."
"Is Eshie alright?" Angel asked after noticing that Eshal hadn't touched anything that she had put on her plate. "Gosh—I hope I didn't frighten her!"
"She's a bit unsettled—doing my best to explain the reason to why you reacted in the way that you did towards me this morning." TazirVile relayed. "She's a teenager and, thus, isn't taking what I'm saying to her in to the fullest extent."
"You don't have to be afraid of anyone, Eshal." Angel said. "I'm not going to hurt you and neither are your brothers—the boys, they can be unruly at times, but they mean no harm to you. They're boys, and they're going to rough-house, and pick fights among themselves, but they won't turn on you."
"It's not me that I'm worried about." Eshal lied.
"Eshal, what your mother just told you is true." TazirVile said. "Boys are much more unruly than girls—they fight among themselves; they rough-house, and have more manly interests in mind to do; and they do tend to have a more joke-like mind to them. When one of the male gender is around one of the female gender they tame down—surely you know this; you've seen how me and Gloar are when we're around one another, and when you suddenly show up."
"You're men, not boys." Eshal said.
"Doesn't matter," TazirVile said. "Adult or not, a male will act according to his sex when he's around his own gender."
"It's true, sis." Bile spoke up. "Ma's never seen or heard me acting male around her and I can vouch for my brothers on her not seeing them act male around her either."
"Well... except for Lazeer." Hazaar said. "And that's only when he goes a bit too far with his jokes."
They finished the meal after his daughter continued to not accept the facts that were being presented to her; the room had a very gloomy-like feeling to it that robbed them of their appetites but they ate anyways. When everything was eaten, and when everyone was done with eating, they sat back in their chairs; he put in a few minute wait before going on in asking his youngest son about when he had gained an interest in boats.
Lazeer was fast in saying that he had gained an interest in boats twenty years ago; Angel claimed that she had come upon him watching one of them boat selling channels a few years ago, which was validated by Lazeer—whenever he and Lhaklar watched a program on one fishing, Lazeer was more interested in the boats that the ones who were fishing were on than in the fish that were being caught.
After getting a confirmation on his son's boat interest he decided to discuss his plan for tomorrow.
"So, how soon do you think he'd like to get his glass?"
"Pardon?" Angel gave him a puzzled look.
"I'd like for Lazeer to get fitted for a goggled glass," TazirVile clarified. "I can pay for it, and I have no problem in paying for it, and for the two replacements for it, and for the cases for the three glasses, and the drops that he'll need after he's accidentally exposed to sun or ray-light. When do you think it'll be appropriate for him to get his glass?"
"As soon as we know what them reporters intend to do with what they—"
"Tomorrow!"
"Hot damn, can you try any harder to make me go deaf!" Hazaar exclaimed. He tapped the right side of his head three times before giving his head a shake.
While willing to go on in his plan in taking them to Zeta Ren, then to an Optometrist that would fit his son for what he needed, and while he was also willing to wait to see what came about with what the reporters had managed to take of his sons, he wasn't able to comment any further on his taking his wife and son to Zeta Ren. His wife was adamant that they stay inside, and wait it out until what had been taken of Bile and Hazaar was exposed to the public, while his youngest son was adamant about his getting his glass—the two had a war of words for all of five minutes before Angel said for Lazeer to get up and then go upstairs. Lazeer was said to be grounded for the rest of the day—he grumbled the entire time that he was leaving the room, which warranted his getting half of the following day tacked onto his punishment.
TazirVile had stayed quiet throughout the fighting; he felt like he had betrayed his son by not joining him in getting his mother to say yes on getting his glass tomorrow but he also knew that his wife was right—a hailstorm of publicity would happen if whatever had been taken by them reporters was shown to the public. Taking his son out during that hailstorm might not be the best of things to do—with the break in his search occurring on Zeta Ren, he was sure that the planet was swarming with reporters, who were doing their best to get the best scoop possible on what was going on with him and his.
He dismissed his family from the room then, seeing as his son was in such a glum mood, and had just been grounded and then sent to his room, he decided to do a little spoiling. There was a chocolate coconut cake in the house's smaller kitchen's refrigerator; it was half eaten, and would spoil if it wasn't eaten within the next few days. He cut his youngest son a better than decent sized slice of the cake then he took it up to him. His son thanked him after receiving his piece of cake a few minutes later.