Zach returned to an abandoned living room, where the only sign that his mother was still going to return, was an upside down book on the couch. Zach read the title, ‘Shogun’.

He couldn’t imagine his mother reading a book about guns, let alone showing them off. For a moment he considered picking up to figure out what she was reading, and why they had forgotten the W, then realized… If his mom saw him with it he’d probably end up having to read it so she could talk to somebody about it, his dad didn’t read after all, and it was a big book. He decided to simply return his attention to the television, not even noticing the toilet flush.

“Oh, Zach,” Mrs Brooks said, “You’re still up?”

“Oh, mom… Yeah, I wanted to watch this.”

“You’re not starting a movie at this hour, young man.”

“It’s just one episode of a TV show.”

“...That’s fine then. If it’s a short show.”

“No idea, mom. I borrowed it from…”

Zach thought for a moment how to describe Yuki. Mrs Brooks arched a brow.

“A classmate, I guess.”

“Who?” Mrs Brooks demanded, feeling her son was avoiding the question.

“Yuki.”

“Who?” was repeated. The name was new to her.

Zach thought for a moment, then laughed his answer, “The communist spy.”

“Oh?”

“She’s from Japan instead of China though. Foreign exchange student.”

“And she’s already loaning you movies?”

“Well, I had to give my watch as collateral.”

Mrs Brooks frowned, didn’t comment on it, then sat back down and picked up her book.

“I hope it’s not a show with a lot of shooting, I want to read this book.”

Zach considered pointing out the word ‘gun’ on the cover, decided against it, then answered, “Don’t worry, mom. It’s about a girl with a yo-yo.”

“A yo-yo?”

“Mhm…”

“Sounds long-winded,” Mrs Brooks said, a tiny smiled playing on her lips as she disappeared back behind her book.

Zach, who missed the point, didn’t pursue the subject. Instead, he turned his attention to the VCR, which had stopped making the buzzing noise that meant it was rewinding. He didn’t bother finding the remote, instead he started the show with a simple click on the machine.

“Not so close to the TV, honey,” Mrs Brooks chided. Zach dutifully returned to the couch, waiting for the show to start.

Unfortunately for Zach, the first episode on the tape was mostly a lot of talking and very little action.

That said, he amused himself trying to piece the plot together from the actions and responses of the cast. The episode seemed to deal with bullying and kids being forced to shoplift.

“You can understand this?” his father asked, appearing in his bathrobe and reeking of the chemical equivalent of strawberries.

“Not a word,” Zach replied, though if it was the lack of comprehension or the fact that his father talked through it was left in the middle.

“Then why are you watching it?”

“I want to see the action scenes.”

“Looks like just a bunch of girls talking,” Mister Brooks observed, dropping down next to his wife.

“Did you use my shampoo?” she wanted to know, “You don’t even have any hair…”

“I thought it was body wash…”

Even though Zach couldn’t understand a word being said, he couldn’t help being annoyed at his parents talking through the show.

They didn’t stop discussing their shower products until the main character was suddenly riding a motorcycle.

“She can do that?” Mister Brooks wanted to know, “That girl can be no older than thirteen.”

“No idea, dad. Let me watch this…”

Mister Brooks shrugged, continuing his conversation, but was immediately silent when the violence started.

“They can’t beat a girl with a yo-yo?” he asked, “That’s dumb.”

Zach didn’t reply, fascinated by the girl who took out her opponents with skillful yo-yo tricks, wondering if yo-yos were a secret martial art. To his disappointment, the show was over soon after that.

“Oh, that’s a nice song,” Mrs Brooks said when the ending credits started, “You don’t get that on the radio.”

The credits cut in the middle, then were immediately replaced by the start of the next episode.

“I’m going to bed,” Zach muttered, turning the VCR off and ejecting the tape. He left it half sticking out of the machine.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” was the response from his parents.

“And now that the kids are finally to bed,” he heard his father start. Not wanting to hear the rest of that sentence, Zach sprinted up the stairs, but he didn’t have to bother. The sound of the General Pee arriving punctuated whatever mister Brooks had planned.

The phone rang for the seventh time before Zach decided to get out of bed and deal with the ringing device. He pulled up his pajama bottoms and in his zombie-like state shuffled down the stairs.

The phone had rang fifteen times before he finally picked it up in the kitchen.

“Brooks residence,” he yawned, “Zach speaking.”

“Is your mother home?” a woman, who was clearly at the end of her rope, asked.

“One moment please,” Zach replied, hung up the phone and lumbered to the garage to find his mother’s car missing.

He returned to the phone, picked it up, heard a dial tone, shrugged and hung it back up.

As soon as he did it rang again.

“Zach residence,” he mumbled, not missing a beat to pick it up, “Brooks speaking.”

“Your mother?” the woman prompted his memory.

Zach yawned wide before finally answering, “No, ma’am. I think she got called to work…”

He finished his sentence with another yawn.

“She did,” the woman on the line confirmed, “But the woman she was filling in for arrived just now, so… She doesn’t have to come. Sorry for bothering you, young man.”

The phone clicked before Zach could respond.

He looked at the clock, finding it was a little past six and came to the conclusion he could easily get six to seven more hours of sleep… On the other hand, if his mother was called to work for no reason, she’d probably find a reason to not waste the gas money, which generally meant takeout breakfast. His siblings still being asleep, he’d have first pick…

He stood in the door opening to the kitchen, having an internal struggle over sloth and gluttony. His stomach growled. Gluttony gained an easy victory.

He got some cereal, remembered he still had the video in the player and, more importantly, the living room to himself until people would start to wake up. He rushed to the living room, somehow managing not to spill any milk.

Much to Zach’s chagrin, the second episode also contained a lot more talking than he would have liked, but the payoff where the main character, whose name he had gathered as ‘Sucky’, beat up an old man with her yo-yo, for volleyball crimes, made the the waiting worth it.

The next episode followed and, already knowing how it ended, Zach sat on the edge of his seat to see what led up to that moment.

“Good morning…”

Zach looked up to see Tara, still in her pajamas and carrying a pillow, yawning and dropping down on the couch.

“Too loud,” she complained, vaguely gestured to the TV and propped her head up with the pillow, “What are you watching?”

“Shh.”

“You don’t even speak Korean…” Tara muttered, digging her face into the pillow.

“Japanese…”

“You don’t speak that either!”

“Tara, I’m watching this.”

“Fine,” she muttered, turning her head to see the TV, “Oh, she’s cute!”

“Shush!”

“Fine…”

It was quiet for a time and the video was almost back to the scene he had seen in the video store.

For a moment Zach thought he would be allowed to see the rest in silence, when the sound of the garage door opening interrupted the show.

He sighed softly, resigning himself to the fact he apparently wasn’t allowed to watch his show in peace.

“Oh, you’re up,” Mrs Brooks said in surprise, entering the living room and chewing on a breakfast burger.

“The hospital called,” Zach said, pausing the video.

“Oh shi...prwreck.”

“I know the word ‘shit’, mom.”

“Language, Tara. What did they want, Zach?”

“They wanted to tell you that you didn’t have to come.”

“Betty was late,” she sighed, “I’m not sure why they called, because Betty’s never been on time in her whole life… But that’s not your problem, there’s food in the kitchen.”

“I’ll get some after the show,” Zach muttered, remembered he had already seen the ending and turned the VCR off with the remote, “Never mind, can’t follow it anyway.”

“Told you.”

“Hush, A’rat the Librarian.”

“Barbarian…”

“Whatever,” Zach muttered, getting up to go find his breakfast.

“Any plans for today, kids?” Mrs Brooks asked, following them into the kitchen where they argued over who had first pick from the brown paper bags.

Tara shrugged.

“Going to give Yuki her tape back,” Zach answered, forcing his sister’s hand away from one of the burgers.

“Who?” Tara asked.

Zach didn’t respond.

“Remember to get your watch back, honey.”

“I will, mom. Don’t worry.”

“Can I come?” Tara asked, but before Zach could answer, Mrs Brooks whispered something her daughter’s ear.

Tara giggled, batted her lashes at Zach, then left the kitchen clutching one of the burgers to herself.

“What?” Zach asked, confused.

Mrs Brooks winked at her son, then followed her youngest out of the kitchen.

“What!?” he called after, getting no response.