Finally! A new chapter!

A tremendously loud shout-out to the following awesome people who got the answers right: BTRlover1122, seastar529 (we'll take those answers!), Lady Cougar-Trombone, doomforzombies16, amichele, LBozzie, StripedFuzzySocks, AngelGoneDevil69, incinera, rockybluewigs, raenbc, and Ruxi23! You guys are right. Chase seems to have discovered levitation, and Adam discovered some sort of ripple blast. Good job!

A special shout out to 88keys, Share11223344, and an important guest for leaving lovely reviews! Thanks, guys!

It took me a while to post, because this chapter pulled a Robot Fight Club on me. I had to write a whole new chapter because the first one wasn't working. Between the two, this one's a bit better, though I did struggle on this.

Sorry, guys. This is the best I can right now. :(

I hope that you'd still enjoy. I'll just try to make it up to you next chapter. ;)

Episode Tag to: Memory Wipe

Chronicle 015

Chapter Neuroplasticity

Password: ****************

Date: 07.27.13

Time: 7:14 PM

You know what I wish I have right now? A gadget that could make time go a lot faster. I'm so tired. I'm also very bored, and I can only sleep so many times a day before being accused by my parents of having either a bad case of insomnia or extreme laziness.

Just when I think I can't really be grounded forever. I guess I really don't have anyone to blame but myself. And Bree. It was her idea to stay out two hours after our curfew, after all.

But then, come to think about it, the blame falls back on me, because Adam was trying to talk her out of it, and I tried talking them into it again. Then we got caught, it snowballed into us being grounded for three weeks and having to use Big D's neuroscrambler on him so we can get out of it, and then get caught again. So it's actually on Chase since it was his idea.

Well, if you don't count me erasing twenty-four years of Big D's life on the same day of his worldwide interview then, yeah—it is Chase's fault.

It doesn't really matter now. All four of us already earned back the three-weeks punishment we tried to get rid of because we neurolized Big D. It was kind of a first, because he wanted the punishment to be kind of hush-hush. He said he didn't want to clue Mom in that something had happened. Her knowing means him in trouble, so he got creative. Adam and Bree are sentenced to being the new gardeners (which, speaking from my experience this past spring, is pretty hard work), while Chase and I are sentenced to doing housework.

We drew straws. Chase drew the cooking end, and I drew the cleaning end.

I guess Big D wanted to make sure that Mom would be so happy with how the house would look that she wouldn't even wonder about their disaster of an interview. I thought she would have caught wind of it sooner, especially from the news station, but hey. What she didn't know wouldn't have hurt her.

Or us, for that matter.

Man. It's only been a day, but I'm drained. I thought I got the better end when I picked the house chores. I've cleaned parts of the house before to get allowance, but I didn't know it would take at least three hours to clean everything.

I'm not the only one feeling the effects of the punishment, though. Before coming up here in my room, I saw Adam slumped over the counter, asleep, while Bree snoozed on the couch with her favorite fleece throw over her face. Chase just got finished cooking dinner and told me he was going to check on something in the lab, but I know that he's going down there to sneak in a quick nap before Big D comes back from his conference and it's time to eat dinner.

Even Pascal seems to be on the tired side, but he's been like that lately. I would let him out of his cage so he can skip around, but he would just sit there. I'm not really sure if he's sick or being mopey. I even braved it once and tried to feed him chocolate to get him to perk up. He just sniffed it then looked away.

I'm not really sure what to do.

I meant to ask Mom earlier if we should take him to a vet when she was talking to me while I'm working off my punishment, but I forgot. It was kind of hard to concentrate. The vacuum was very loud and the room was very small. I couldn't really understand her.

Then again, I was also thinking of good excuses to avoid conversation at that time. She was holding my report card in her hand with an alarmingly calm smile. The last time that she smiled at me like that was when I was eight, when I overfed the neighbor's cat and it got sick.

Needless to say, a bill from the vet and a porch full of kitty vomit did not work for my best interest.

At first, I pretended to be very busy and then tried to move to the next room. But she stood in front of the door, stopped the vacuum with her foot then pulled out the plug. She crossed her arms and told me I could have a five minute break. I pretended to be very relieved and tried to make a break for it, but of course I failed. Again.

She told me to sit down on one of the step ladders, so I sat.

I didn't really have any choice.

She took the other step ladder and sat beside me. She showed me the report card. That time, her eyebrows were raised.

I remember laughing nervously. "Wow. I'm doing great in math and science, don't you think?" I stalled.

"You know those are not what I'm looking at," Mom said.

"What, my English class? I'm doing awesome at it. Ms. Keating even said that I'm getting very good at writing, and she thinks that—"

"Leo," she stopped me. "Come on now. History? A C?"

I sighed. No way out of that. "You know I've never been good at history, Mom," I said instead.

"No. You haven't been great at history," she said, "but that doesn't mean that you can't be better at it."

I groaned. At that moment, I wondered why she and Big D were getting on me about a C. I'm doing fine in all of the other subjects. My GPA's pretty snazzy. I didn't get why I was the only one being lectured about my grades.

"Because, sweetheart," Mom answered, "I don't believe this is your best."

"Look. Mom. I'm sorry, okay? But I won't ever be like Chase. It's in him to be a disturbingly intelligent nerd. I don't have the bionics to bring you home as many A's as he does. Can't he be like, I don't know, your academic pride and joy? You can even take Bree, too, and Adam and I would just be the cool little bottom dwellers in that area."

She darted me a look. "Really."

"Yes," I nodded. "Because it's not really fair."

"What's not fair?" Mom asked, but not in a way that she wanted to know because she didn't know, but in a way that she knew and wanted me to know.

"That you and Big D want me to have a shiny report card," I answered anyways.

"Is that how we make you feel by discussing your grade with you?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I guess," I said. "But, I mean, if you insist, I can make my card look like Adam's," I joked.

Mom chuckled. "Hey. Give Adam some credit," she said. "Your brother's grades may not be stellar—"

"—or average—"

"—but," she looked at me, "he's giving it his best, which you are not doing right now, mister." Then, after some time, she sighed. "You're a very brave boy, Leo, and I am so proud of that. I know your schoolwork suffered a little bit because of your responsibilities and Marcus and your uncle popping out of the blue. Really, I understand why this—" she waved the report card, "looks like the way it does."

"So…are you saying that I'm off the hook?"

"I'm saying that I understand what situation you were in, but I don't want it to go on like this anymore," Mom said. "You're not dumb, Leo. You can do a whole lot better than a C. Can't you put on a little bit more effort in school? Things are okay. Things are safe. Maybe you can focus on your classes now that you don't have to worry about someone trying to get rid of your family?"

I didn't want to break her bubble, but I kinda had to remind her. "Uh, well… Someone still is. I hate to remind you, Mom, but your brother-in-law is still theoretically at large."

She stared at me, like she didn't want to hear what I said. Then, her shoulders sagged. "I know," she said.

Mom looked pretty discouraged, which I wasn't trying to make her feel at all. I guess it didn't really occur to me until that time that she's still worried and that she might really just want me to be distracted with school. You know. Come back to our crazy kind of normal while things are going fine.

"Okay," I surrendered. "Are we talking tutoring, bribing, or am I to tackle this on my own?"

Mom smiled immediately, as if being anxious didn't even come to her. "Oh, that sounds great!" she said. "I was really hoping you'd agree to being tutored."

I narrowed my eyes. "You've already talked to someone?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. Your brother," she said. I frowned. "I told him I'd talk to Donald about cutting the cooking dinner punishment into two weeks if he helps you."

"You know that we are on punishment?"

"Yes."

"And you know why we are?"

"Well, I asked Adam and Bree to access the surveillance videos the night of the interview."

"Let me guess. A week off from their punishment."

She said nothing.

"So, Big D knows that you know about…?"

"Him zapping me with that little gizmo?"

I nodded.

"He has no idea." Then, she smiled.

"You're happy that he did that?" I asked, surprised that she wasn't manic and that, well, Big D's still alive.

"Of course not."

"Then why are you grinning? Like a madwoman, I should add?"

She sat up. "Would you like a week off from your punishment?" she asked.

I stared at her for a while. Then, I understood.

Mom. Contracting family to get back at family. She is a Davenport.

Because of our agreement, I can't really specify what Mom had asked me to do, especially since I'm risking revealing her plans by writing it in the chronicle. Big D might decide to look at it this one time, and that will blow my chances of getting out of housework sooner than I expected. It's nothing diabolical, though, but it would be a little embarrassing.

It's certainly going to be memorable.

When I was reading through the overview of Big D's neuroscrambler, I came across the term neuroplasticity. It sounded funny, so of course I had to look it up. Neuroplasticity refers to the growth and changes in the brain, whether in the cellular level or functional level. I guess neuroscientists back then thought that adult brains never grow anymore once they reached their mature size. Turns out, they were wrong. It will keep on growing, which, for us, means that we'll keep on learning.

For the most part, it comes from good and seemingly normal things, like reading a book or running around. Sitting quietly and thinking about stuff is an activity that helps, too. That's probably why grounding is very effective—to an extent. But, for some parts, growth can also come from bad and unexpected things, like being injured or having to face a traumatic event. Watching your nemesis/friend-turned-enemy die in front of you, for example.

Maybe that's why Big D invented his gadget. No matter how many times he says that he did it for the medal and the money, I think his main motivation was to help. He's probably aware that sometimes some people get so distraught about what had happened to them or the people they love that it would be easier if they just forget.

Honestly, I think that's nice and cool.

It's just too bad that he used the neuroscrambler on Mom. She's not happy. At all. As much as I'd like to help him, he kind of dug that hole for himself once he pushed the button to zap her.

Learning. It happens to anyone and everyone.

Signed,

Leo Francis Dooley

End of Chapter Neuroplasticity

Re-Enter Password: ****************

Date: 07.27.13

Time: 9:17 PM

In Memory Wipe, what were the objects four year-old Donald grabbed from Leo's desk that had Leo running after him?

Answers are optional, reviews are loved! Hopefully we'll be caught up before the new episode next Monday!