IT WAS JUDGEMENT FRIDAY – THE AFTERNOON, where Jim Hatcher went to his court trial for Alicia Wong’s assault battery and stolen bike cases… along with public damage of property with hurling rocks… that resulted in endangering and injuries faced by passengers’ safety, in the buses’ cases.

That morning at Stamford High, Paul Walker and Jane Wilson were both quiet, with their deep thoughts of Alicia who was lying in her ward-bed, in a comatose state, at the Children’s Hospital – while THE PERPETRATOR WENT to the docks-later, to be sentenced for his evil crimes.

Paul was having constant shellshock-moments… that ‘crippled’ his self-confidence when-in lack of focus in the classroom, and that was affecting his studies. He-was once super-confident when Alicia was around before, where she would ‘help’ him-to be the Top 5 student, in the final term exams.

Alicia was his ‘main’ super-strength… in his emotional state as he loved her, even though he ‘owned’ and has ‘those’ super-cursed-powers to do feats of a superhero… BUT HE WOULD rather trade that away – with a blink of an eye – for his love to Alicia…

…but it was difficult to stay positive when his ‘right’ wing was broken now. That was ‘why’ Paul was daydreaming-mode a lot, these 3 days in class…

Paul recalled a ‘gem-moment,’ during his last school term, when before they were out courting –where Alicia was having-minutes to wait for her music classmates of the school’s orchestra – and, she played her violin, and sang a melodic Chinese song for Paul, in his wheelchair.

For the whole 2 minutes, Alicia gazed into Paul’s eyes, as she sang to her playing a pleasant-sounding tune of her instrument. Paul had ‘no’ idea what she was singing…

… but it felt ‘inside’ that she was a ‘keeper’ – whom he should spend his-eternity with.

Those were the pleasant daydreaming-reverie moments – that led to chaos – whenever he snapped into his real-world reality. without Alicia, all he felt was negative emotions of anger, regrets, guilt and depression all over again – to find the balance of scale of justice...

... for the wrongdoing towards his-innocent girlfriend, his first love, in his coming of age.

-O-

Meanwhile, Jane-too was in a mental-mess...

... first, she lost her AI SIMY at the farm, when she was first ‘cursed’ in the field trip and next… was...

... her beloved dog-Piper was ‘cursed’ like her too… when she made a huge mistake of her life, when she sneaked out to meet Peter, and now …

… she too lost Alicia, her BFF.

She felt 3-times unlucky – and blamed-her blind-self – to be ‘cursed’ to lose…

... ‘them’ all, in the span of more than a month.

The-blow of Alicia in coma… was being her FIRST-HUMAN ‘VICTIM’ to be cursed…

… made the blind-girl more-guilty, to the point of a breakdown – where the bond of their friendship was beyond all, as they were were-tight… in did everything did together and the firm support, they gave one another…

Blind-Jane sniffled often at the thought of Alicia ‘not’ being in class – and would frequent to take breaks to the girls’-room – whenever she cannot-feel her best-friend’s aura in the classroom. And, it was a blessing too, that her AI Boyyo, was there to keep her focused, at rest of the time in the classroom – but she always marvelled to the thought of her BFF’s mind – which could retain facts, to the point where Mr Alexzander Hull their History teacher called Alicia having a photographic memory, for her mental retention of dates, events and facts – to-ace in class.

It would be a long battle, for Jane to walk ‘alone’ ...

... in this final school term – where she badly missed...

... having a friend to lean on.

<>

THAT AFTERNOON, AFTER SCHOOLING HOURS, Jane met Paul in the school library. They were discussing ‘what’ the verdict of the court decisions ‘would be’– of ‘that’ Jim Hatcher’s sentences. So-Paul was fuming to the thoughts, if the cruel, drug addict criminal would be let off easily, to what evil and unimaginable things, that he had done to his girlfriend…

… at that precious moment, his twin Peter walked in the library, after he went earlier to the west-wing, to ‘discover’ Doug and Zoe were already training with a ‘new pair’ of sparring partners, for the final term's school’s tennis mixed-doubles selection. He too wanted to start the PFC-training with Jane, although it was most likely impossible… as he noticed Jane was in anguish a lot in class, ever since Chinatown Wong was hospitalized.

He came to their table, and heard-Paul speaking his mind…

“I really hope this bloody criminal would ‘not’ go to some mental asylum, and get treated for his disorder – he should go to prison, where conditions were harsher…where his fellow inmates will punish him severely physically. My Mom ‘had’ said that so – if they found his crimes were… hurting women and children… reckon is a main-taboo inside a prison.”

Peter saw blind-Jane nodding in response when he pulled his chair. Jane ‘saw’ his red-glow presence – as she spoke her-mind too…

“Yes-then… justice would be served if that was the verdict of the court sentenced him to prison, after the horrible and wicked thing he had done to Ali – people like him don’t deserve any 2nd chance in life… other than being locked up away, for everyone’s good.”

The one-armed Peter chuckled – and responded to her…

“Come on Janey, what else do you want, when justice had already been served…? Who cared where Jimbo is going next, whether to prison or to Batman’s Arkham? All is-sure, he would ‘not’ return for any sequels.”

Peter chuckled hard, and that annoyed his twin.

“Bloody rack off, Peter – your drongo-feedbacks are ‘not’ welcomed here.”

“Is that so, Poe? So, you-2 would rather ‘curse’ him further… until the day he dies, is that it? Jimbo is a sick-sack who lost his marbles, because of his drug abuse… and-now deserves treatment ‘not’ more punishment…”

“Yea-sure… ‘said’ the fellow drug addict – and-it takes one to ‘know’ one.”

“Hey, will you guys, move on – this discussion would lead to your all-depression – who can argue with a looney, when Jimbo himself said, that Alicia’s BICYCLE CAN ‘TALK’ TO HIM…?”

“’ What’ talking bicycle? Where did you come up with that bloody-shit?”

“What…? Didn’t-Mom say that yester’ evening – when you had ‘your’ Mommy-time yourself, eating-your pizza…?”

“No, she didn’t say anything about any bloody-talking bicycle! And, you bloody don’t add any of your nonsense – to make everything ‘your’ bloody-story… with your screwball twists!”

“Whatever…”

The librarian Ms Daisy Moore came over, to shush the antagonizing twins, who both got loud… and fellow students complained to her. Blind-Jane apologized to her…

“I’m terribly sorry Ms Moore, it won’t happen again.”

The librarian left. Jane looked up at the red-glow, and suggested…

“Peter, here… ‘take’ Boyyo with you now… and-go away…”

“No-Janey. If you don’t come to training with me… then I’m ‘not’ going to the court too.”

“Look, Peter, I’m ‘not’ well – I can’t go – so what ‘more’ do you want now…?”

“Hmm, so there is an a-Math test next Monday – could you teach me, how to BS around it?”

So, Jane with her assist AI Boyyo, taught Math to both the Walker twins, that Friday afternoon – while at the same time…

… the high court read the verdict sentence of Jim Hatcher.

<><>

THE SUV MAZDA DROVE IN, AND THE automatic front gate shut closed. Dr Wilson got off her vehicle at her house garage, that Friday evening. She heard the ‘only’ the noise, from inside the house was of the loud TV blaring…

It used to be more-nosier like a bazaar before… with Samuel’s Animal Planet documentary playing loud… with Piper also barking mad, to the arguing Jane and her former AI SIMY…

… her husband Anthony too was ‘rarely’ at home these days – ever since he stubbornly started his first new business venture at the age of 50. He said he was doing it for his young children’s future…

… and even named his company ‘Jansa’ – an abbreviation of both their names, of their children.

Shelley Wilson entered the front door and Lola who was ironing clothes, greeted her. The doctor-mother walked up the hall, to see-and-hear the DVD of The Jungle Book, playing out loud…to both of her children, cuddling on the couch.

Her B-girl was still in her school uniform, while she was sobbing, with a tissue. Shelly knew that she was ‘not’ crying to any sad-moving scene moment of the jungle boy's story, but it was – her friend, Alicia.

Even, Samuel was quiet, where he used to be ‘excited’… to see his mother coming-in, whenever she walked into the house, with the big dog wagging its tail...

… no husband – no dog – no children…

… Shelley sensed that depression was looming in the air of her household, and she drew the curtains open to the darkened hall. The Doctor-mother knew Jane’s depression was infectious – and would affect Samuel-too, as he was close to his sister…

… as a mother… she should put an ‘immediate’ stop to this behaviour…

… and get her B-girl on track… to move-on.

-O-

“Mom, Jane – QUIET!!!”

The annoyed 2-year-old Baby-boy, Samuel yelled out…

… like he used HIS RAISED VOICE to do ‘before,’ whenever the barking Piper interrupted his TV viewing – BUT HE FAILED, with both his mother and sister at each-other throats, at the heightening YELLING MATCH.

Remembering what his lost-DOG HAD ‘TAUGHT’ him back then…

The Black-toddler came off from the couch to the coffee table and grabbed the TV remote control – and increased the TV-volume, so to ‘down’ the mummy-sister dispute which was at its heights…

… and the ‘learned-lesson,’ WORKED ‘FOR’ a moment…

The maddened Shelley Wilson grabbed the remote-control from her son’s hand – AND PRESSED-MUTE… and tossed the device at the couch, to the flabbergasted and surprised toddler. Now…

… she had both of her children at her throat… with her youngest cursing in gibberish mix-of baby-talks, which she ignored – and the mother focused… on the her-elder rebellious child who yelling out…

“Did you ‘ask’ me, before you ‘did’ that – answer me, Mummy!!?”

“I’ve already ‘paid’ for it… and Jane – you are ‘going’ tomorrow morning – that’s final!”

She made her ultimatum, before walking to the kitchen. With, Blind-Jane following her mother’s voice… because she was ‘not’ done with her-domineering-Mummy.

“Why didn’t you ask me – and why do you-always decide my ‘affairs’ without asking me?”

“It’s because you don’t listen’ to me like you are doing now – and you might regret in the ‘future,’ of what my-best interest and intentions are for you today… if you keep going on… with ‘this’ rebellious-path of disobedience of yours!”

“Mummy, ‘who’ you think you are!!? ‘Am’ I still-your B-girl Barbie-doll here!!? You said you even bought-me a tennis skirt too, without telling me. And, you spoke ‘too’ behind my back… and made ‘this’ arrangement with Coach Connery… when I’m ‘not’ ready…”

“Yes-Jane – ‘when’ would you be ready?

“…It is always the situation that I must ‘bring-the-mountain’ to you, for you to do anything you do – which-you even too ‘give-up’ easily – once you-have done-once. Listen! With your ‘technology’ that you are wearing now – you ‘had’ played and-excelled in the Mayor’s Challenge Cup, so… ‘where’ do you go from here – answer me now?”

“Well-Mummy, I will go to ‘be’ a normal blind-girl – going daily to school and to study hard, for my final term without further distraction – reckon my plate is already-spilling full – with so-much to do-and-deal with, now… that my best friend whom I had depended on, is lying in a bed… in a hospital out-there.”

“Yes-Alicia is in a coma, I ‘know’ how you feel – but why are you-grieving, like she is ‘dead?’”

“But Mummy, I am ‘not’ ready yet… and ‘not’ in the ‘right’ state of mind – to play tennis – which is the least… of my priorities for now!”

“If that was so, then ‘why’ did you promise-that inspector’s son, that you would partner him – in the school’s mixed doubles selection? And so now, you-just bloody-quit!!?”

“Can you ‘not’ understand and reason, that Alicia is ‘not’ here for-me, Mummy – and I need ‘time’ to deal with my ‘own’ personal stresses?”

“That was the reason ‘why’ I’m helping you… to get out your rut, and I’m willing ‘to-do’ it for you too, before – ‘you’ bring us all-down with your bloody-stress. That’s why, I did ‘not’ tell you anything, from knowing you for years… of how-stubborn you are, like your father – where you always say ‘no,’ to… what is best for you…

“Jane-you are definitely-going to the ‘club’ and train tomorrow – and that is ‘final’ – because I did ‘not’ raise a daughter of mine, to be a quitter!”

The blind girl scoffed… and left hurried from the kitchen, nattering to herself…

-O-

… there was ‘no’ changing the mind of the dictating mother when she had made-her firm stance…

He mummy was more oppressing and adamant than her ex-boyfriend-bully Peter – and, she was ambitious too – just to please her Facebook friends, to ‘get-their’ good praises – of how her B-girl whom she ‘had’ raised, who would make her feel ‘further’ proud…

… as the “Perth’s famous couple’ fame…

… but…

… ‘without’ knowing her daughter’s secret…

… as the PFC cursed-other…

… of the Asmodeus’s ‘possessed’ Peter.

<><>

IT WAS NOW SATURDAY MORNING, Paul stirred up of a sudden… in his darken windowless to negative ‘auras’ coming from either-one… of his fellow Cursed-trio. It couldn’t be Peter, his nearest-detection, for his twin’s was ‘normal’ – where he was still sleeping upstairs…

… so, it was Jane…

‘… it must be some mother-daughter issue that she normally-had – and… where is Mom!!?’

Sitting on his back in bed in his wet diapers, the blur Paul recalled waiting for inspector-mom, desperately to hear from her ‘what’ was the verdict of Jim Hatcher – whether he went to prison or the Fremantle-mental ward…

… he stayed-up waiting for her yesterday… till 11 PM, late at night – until he got sleepy…

Earlier, yesterday-evening… he went online to local news-portals and typed the criminal’s name in on the search bar – and got nada.

Probably Paul and Alicia were ‘not’ as famous as his twin’s PFC fame – where today… his victim-girlfriend’s court case verdict, but did ‘not’ concern nor mattered to trend-in-Perth.

‘Maybe Mom came in late…’

… Paul put on a fresh pair of shorts, and exited his bedroom in his wheelchair, to find his mother. There was ‘no’ fresh smelling of newly brewed coffee in the pot… which normally whiffed in his school-day mornings.

He then peeked out of the window… and her Audi was ‘not’ in the porch.

‘Was she working late?’

The caffeine ‘crutch’ came, and Paul needed his coffee. He put on a pot of java automatically. The thought of the courtroom-verdict still played in his mind…

… Paul remembered the newspapers…

He wheeled himself out from the kitchen to the front door… with ‘more’ negative emotions of Jane, still bugging ‘into his own’ Spidey-like-senses – before he opened the door, to the azure morning of his neighbourhood…

… the newspaper was lying at the driveway and… Paul wheelchaired over to fetch it. He was greeted by someone from 2 houses down, from the opposite side of the road. It was old Mr Kiperman, a diabetic who lost-both his legs – who was now sitting in his wheelchair… in his porch, reading his own-newspaper, with his lawn sprinklers switched on.

His twin used-to frighten him, using the old-man as a boogie-man – that Paul would end up like him with ‘short-legs’ – if he kept-putting on more weight and get diabetes by overeating.

The nervy-Paul quickly greeted back his fellow-quad… before he hastily entered Walker’s house. Back in his kitchen, where he flipped the newspaper on the kitchen counter, with front-headlines of a mysterious charred corpse was found…

… in Perth Great fire – who was IDed as one, Ambrose Spencer… a garbage contractor, with his sportscar, also found abandoned in the sideroad of the outback… some 15 km to his burnt-remains.

There it was on PAGE 5 – THE VERDICT OF Jim Hatcher…

… Paul read, and he then threw the newspapers across the kitchen counter, in deep disappointment. The addict-criminal WAS SENTENCED FOR MENTAL TREATMENT as his life-sentence in Graylands…

… from being a further menace to society in damaging public property and threat to human lives…

… it was ‘not’ what the crippled boyfriend had anticipated – as it was an ‘unfair’ court sentence… that don’t serve ‘right-justice’ of what he brutally did, to his beloved Alicia.

Soon, Jim Hatcher’s name…

… was in his Plan-B-hit-list…

… along with his twin’s name.

Maybe he could go to the Graylands to pay a ‘visit’ – and ‘off’ the vile-criminal himself in ‘secret’ – just as how he ‘had’ successfully planned the rescued, a certain hero-dog, from the animal hospital downtown.

His thoughts of being a would-be iffy assassin-role, BREWED ALONG… with the boiling coffee, in the pot.

-O-

The widow Caroline Walker was in love ‘again’… when she drove her Audi back home, that Saturday morning. While in the afternoon yesterday, she had attended the court hearings, of Jim Hatcher – who had bludgeoned her son’s girlfriend and made her go into a coma.

When the verdict was read that the ‘dangerous’ criminal… was sentenced for life, to the mental hospital in Graylands – Caroline then changed from her inspector’s uniform to a different wardrobe, which she brought in a duffle bag, into the same court’s building washroom…

… and then went on an evening date, with the now widowed, Principle Tom Harris.

Carol’s boyfriend had surprised her that evening, as he brought her to a new country-club, which he had joined – JOHN BLAKE COUNTRY-CLUB – and she was there, and over-drinks was introduced to Tom’s prominent and influential-circle of friends of Perth, and then – Carol realised her 2nd surprise of that evening – that her police-promotion as a Det. Insp. Walker, with a boost of paygrade…

… was through-Tom Harris’ network of friends.

Later, in a table for 2, Tom and Carol dined and drank the finest, to celebrate. They closed up their rapt evening, with drinking one-too-many Cab-Sav, to the point of them both, were too drunk to drive home – with their own drunk-in-joke of that evening… of Insp-Carol get to be pulled over for drunk-hoon-driving, and might jinx her promotion…

… Carol then followed her beau upstairs, to the club suite-room… where they continued their ‘private’ celebration together, for the rest of the night.

-O-

Insp Walker was still in her Cloud-9 of her perfect-Friday-evening when she drove… and parked her Audi, at Walker’s house porch. When she opened the front door, she was further welcomed by the whiff sweet-aroma of coffee…

… she knew her Good-son was awake… but was ‘not’ around to greet her.

Caroline walked to the kitchen and saw a half-drunk mug of java on the marbled-top kitchen counter, and saw newspapers scattered on the floor, near the IKEA dinner table. She picked and folded the newspaper to place it on the table… before she was drawn next to the coffeepot.

She stood and was looking out the window, sipping coffee, and ‘continued’ her pleasant reveries – and the sound of dunny water-flushing broke her out-into-reality. Out rolled from the toilet, was-Paul to greet her…

“Mom, you are back – have you-been overnight on a case?”

She had-to lie…

“Yes-Poe… we had a 'new lead' last night on Hajji, that was just – pfft-another dead-end.”

… Paul came forward to join his mother, with his half-drunk coffee. In a sad tone, he asked…

“How did it ‘go’ in the magistrate court yesterday…?”

“Yea, Jim Hatcher was sentenced-lifer to mental institution, when he was too dazed to speak in his-own trial – so a court-appointed shrink, some-Dr Watson who came, to testified… that he was dilutional on-crack-meth, to a state of schizophrenia, where the ones who-heard ‘voices’ in their head…

“… then the junkie-Jim in his state of his drug-withdrawal, made a hoo-hah later in the court, in front of the judge… and claimed that he did his crimes, to ‘punish’ the sinners of Perth because God… and HIS TALKING-BICYCLE had ‘told’ him so.” Caroline chuckled.

“… talking bicycle…”

… Paul repeated ‘those’ 2 WORDS IN SHOCK – as his world-closed ‘into’ an implosion inside him.

Inspector-mother laughed…

“Yes Poe, that is what dangerous-drugs does and make one to-hear and see crazy things – and make them go-next to Graylands.”

Paul was ‘not’ hearing his Mom’s drug-advice – but was stuck with her former statement of ‘TALKING-BICYCLE’ – which Peter in the library too uttered ‘that’ – ‘even-before’ the court case trial, that afternoon…

‘How did Peter ‘know…?’’

Caroline noticed her younger son was in a state-of-shock, in his wheelchair – when he had a weird-look in his eyes, of that sudden moment…

“Poe, are you okay…?”

Speechless… Paul did ‘not’ respond back to his inspector-Mom.

<><>

THAT SATURDAY MORNING, blind-Jane was in a foul mood from the moment she woke up. She was forced to go to the country-club for her-first tennis practice… which she thought was a waste-of-time, and would rather be home… and revising for her next week’s class tests.

She crack-the-shit when she tried on the skirt – that her mummy-bought without telling her, which turned-out… to be very hugging-tight.

She ‘hated’ her mother for this…

… ever since her Piper was ‘cursed’ and ran away from home… she had ‘not’ been exercising – where a-routine before, when the blind-girl WOULD GO RUNNING, with her dog on leash…

… BUT NOW… she had gained ‘some’ weight.

-O-

In the-blue Mazda SUV, the B-girl sat beside her driving mother… who was humming rapt, to her stereo of classical songs. The quiet Jane was boiling-mad inside-of-her, as she sat still… to the cheery mood of her doctor-mummy, in their-entire journey to John Blake Country-club.

But Jane sensed some ‘equal’ negative energy vibes, build-up from her counterparts of the Cursed-trio – and pinpointed, that it was coming from PAUL WALKER ‘NOT’ PETER – whom she assumed the ‘one-armed’ was still asleep-late on this Saturday morning…

… she made a mental NOTE, TO GET BACK to her blue-beacon, once she was ‘done,’ with her current time-waster routine.

-O-

They arrived at the country club's parking lot… and ex-international Amy Bixby was there waiting and greeted them both – and Amy complimented on Jane’s tennis skirt which she wore…

“That is a lovely pink skirt, that you are wearing there, Jane.”

Only then, at that moment… the blind-girl had realized ‘what’ the colour her sporting-attire was…

… at least Mummy got her favourite-colour right…

… but ‘not’ the size…

… Dr Shelley Wilson excused herself as she had some errands to run… and told her daughter that she would return later to pick her up. But, she also briefly ‘lectured’ a-little to her B-girl, to be cooperative and learn from the ‘best’– in front-of Coach Amy Bixby.

-O-

While walking to the club’s tennis courtyard… Amy said she was sorry for Alicia who was in a coma. Amy had met and was acquainted the Chinese girl at the same-table which they sat, of the ‘now’ razed old country-club – while attending the dinner banquet after the Mayor’s Challenge Cup, that happened less than a fortnight ago.

Amy hugged the blind-girl saying…

“Be strong girl, at least the mad-man who attacked her – is now locked-up in the Graylands, and-can be of ‘no’ harm… to anyone, anymore.”

The caring-words… brought a tear in the blind-girl’s eyes, as she quietly nodded.

They reached the courtyard, and the blind-girl heard 2 indistinct male voices grunting, and the sound of a tennis ball hit, from racquet-to-court floor. As Amy and Jane approached, the blind-girl heard Coach Steve Connery’s voice, greeting her over…

“G’day Jane – how you do?”

“I’m fine Coach… thank you for asking.” She responded.

“Hi, Jane… I’m glad you came.” ‘Another’ teenaged male-voice greeted…

… Jane was surprised to ‘hear’ Douglas Zimmerman was also in the club… that Saturday morning, to train.

“Hi, Dougie…” She waved to the-voice.

After the small-talks… everyone resumed their ‘own’ training.

Amy Bixby was showing Jane the proper basics, of holding a racquet and hitting a ball. When Jane asked her of-why her techniques were ‘different,’ than ‘what’ Peter Walker had taught her. The ex-international told, it was Peter’s own ‘style’ of playing, which was ‘not’ wrong – but it-was ‘not’ suitable for her.

It got the blind-girl thinking that Peter had won the junior-championship, before his mishap car-accident. He had been giving her ‘pro-tips’ in school, based on the Champ he ‘was’ – and had ‘NOT’ CHANGED his playing strategies, now that being one-armed…

… now… SHE HAD TO ‘RELEARN’ – and, so ‘must’ Peter too – if he WANTED ‘CHANGES’ for improvement.

Jane Wilson instructed her AI…

“Boyyo… follow Coach Amy’s instructions.”

“Yes, Jane.”

-O-

For the next hour, Jane was having ‘fun,’ because Coach Amy had made her basic tennis teaching techniques and personal-interaction, done with full of joy and excitement – and that intrigued the blind-girl.

… Jane learned ‘NEW’ THINGS – and, so did Boyyo.

… Jane unlearned ‘OLD’ THINGS – and, so did Boyyo.

Then Coach Steve Connery called them over, for a doubles-fun-match… to recap what ‘their’ students had learned, that morning. That-made blind-Jane nervy of the thought of being thrown-at-the-pool’s deep end – while in real-life, she was ‘afraid’ of water too…

“No, Coach Amy, I’m ‘not’ ready – I think I’ll sit, this one out.”

“Nonsense! Come-Jane… it will be fun.”

The coach tugged Jane’s elbow, towards the guys… who were still practising. Blind-Jane thought her coach will be playing along-her-side of the court, where Amy would ‘correct’ her mistakes-while… they played, and that would-raised her confidence and game-mindset.

Amy let Jane’s elbow and instructed her…

“Whenever you are ready, Jane.”

All quiet, she stood there, on the blind-spot wondering ‘what’ was going on – until she heard a ‘boy’s’ voice beside her, on her side of the court.

“Don’t worry, you will do fine, I will-cover for you.” DOUGLAS ZIMMERMAN SAID...

… Jane nodded back – but was further anxious, she turned back, and mumbled an-order to her AI…

“…Boyyo, recalibrate.”

“Yes, Jane.”

-O-

Shelley Wilson returned after more than an hour – and walked up to the club’s outdoor tennis courts. She witnessed for the 2nd time, her B-girl, in action, since the Mayor’s Challenge Cup – as she played with one-armed Peter back then…

… now, here… was the ‘decent’ Zimmerman-boy… whose blond-haired matched Jane’s.

She was impressed of how her blind-daughter was hitting a returning ball – Shelley imagined that even herself, with her ‘eyes-shut’ she couldn’t do-what Jane was doing in playing tennis – with the aid of her AI device… assisting her to ‘when’ and ‘where’ to hit the ball over.

The proud doctor-mother took a video – and posted into her Facebook timeline, with a caption:

@John Blake Country-Club – for Jane’s first tennis practice, with Coaches Steve & Amy Connery.

Jane ‘cheated’ – and used her cursed-3rd-eye superpower – the blind-girl emitted her ‘own’ weak yellow-light to ‘see’ Dougie’s shadow beside her, and tried ‘not’ get into his way ‘blindly’ – like how she did with Peter, at the Mayor’s Cup… and got-the blame…

The score was 4-3, in favour of the ex-internationals – until blind-Jane slammed the ball beyond Steve Connery’s reach, to level 4-4. Everyone in the court cheered – Jane felt the excited Dougie patting-on her shoulder… and congratulating in a pitched high voice, saying…

‘You Beauty!’

The doubles-fun-match ended with the Connerys clinching the-win… of 6-4, with their experiences.

Dr Wilson approached, to notice the rapt Jane, was laughing to them battering at each other, when Dougie and his Coach Steve, both on a roll like-cobber’s. The hooting Dougie told him, to ‘not’ underestimate blind-Jane’s inert-tennis-talents based on – the Connerys ‘needn’t’ ‘throw’ some points away – as-pity – to the then-did to Jane @Mayor’s Cup.

The giggling Jane defended that, ‘all’ credits and compliments should go to her AI Boyyo, with its programmed ‘teachings,’ of Peter Walker, her ‘first’ coach. But Blind-Jane’s compliment were responded… with the-silent Connerys and Dougie, eyeballs rolling-up.

The Connerys greeted Dr Wilson that led to small-chats – and then led to an invitation to the John Blake club’s hole-in-the-wall for iced-tea, at the rotunda. At the table, Amy said to Shelley that the club also has a swimming pool – and Jane should come with a bather… the next Saturday’s practice, and go swimming after.

… Jane cringed into the chair when she heard her ‘handler’ doctor-mother… telling Coach Amy that she will shop on Sunday, for a swimming suit for her in Gucci.

The blind-girl hated and feared water, coz’ she nearly drowned when she was 5, while on a holiday… in a hotel’s slippery, long bathtub.

-O-

They had an open conversation where doctor-mother further told them, that she loved to see her children-swim, and take them out to the nearest beach for weekend swims – but her Facebook friends discouraged her – with their comments that instilled the ‘fear,’ of her children being shark-biscuits…

… that led to another conversation of FB statistics of Straya… being the world’s highest attacks by sharks in the world, with 47 death in the last 3 decades alone… although Perth had lower counts in Western Australia, with 3 death in Cottesloe Beach among the 81 other attacks… compared to double the ‘numbers’ down-under, at the other side of the ‘east coast.’

While talking, the doctor-mother noticed the Zimmerman-boy was having a private conversation with her B-girl… who was chuckling and nodding to him.

… Dr Shelley Wilson with her mid-life crisis – was ‘sold,’ as she loved the country club… that substituted her ‘lacks’ – of husband and dog.

The country club would perfectly bring her closer to her children in the weekend, from her daily-busy working life, at her own clinic. Jane could have her weekly tennis practice along with her brother… who would be going ‘next,’ for his swimming lessons.

Before leaving the country-club, both the mother and daughter went to the club’s office to swipe the Wilsons’ credit card for ITS CLUB-MEMBERSHIP CARD.

The revving blue, SUV Mazda next, drove away, from the John Blake country club and left – with doctor-mother humming a happy-tune, from the stereo…

… to her quiet blind-daughter.

<><>

EARLIER AT THE WALKER HOUSE, THAT SATURDAY mid-morning… when Peter woke up, bugged with mixed both positive-negative emitted by the other 2, of the Cursed-trio – and right now the one-armed, was sensing ‘more’ of the positive with Janey but ‘not’ Paul.

He then heard the car engine of the Audi-parking at the porch. Then moments later, he heard an indistinct tête-à-tête downstairs… in the kitchen of inspector-Mom with his twin.

Peter did ‘not’ want to come downstairs, but would rather stay in bed with his tablet, looking at what was-popular TRENDING ONLINE, that was-worthy of the-click-the-post-and-read…

‘Charred human remains found in Perth Great Fire’ … NOT INTERESTED…

‘John Blake re-elected as Perth’s Mayor’ … certainly NOT INTERESTED…

Nothing was news-worthy, unlike a fortnight ago, it was-only ‘his’ PFC branding, that was trending-tops in Perth’s social-media, with his competitor story, of ‘that’ missing Hero-dog. Then came the Mayor’s Cup, where the PFC lost-shamefully to the ex-internationals, but before long the saving-grace came, in-form of Perth Great Fire – to ‘overtake’ his-shame.

Peter listened to his mother coming upstairs and entered her room. He checked out the vibes he ‘received,’ and the ‘yellow’ was glowing-bright, that made him chuckle – thinking about what was-Janey-so ‘into,’ that made her radiate so much positive energy...

… but those crystal-like vibes of glimmering emotions were drowned-soon, by the ‘nearby’ blue’s pessimism.

After about 15 minutes into, since he last heard his Mom being ‘in’ her room, Peter got off his bed to go downstairs towards the ‘negative-vibes-build-up’… as he was curious, of what the-fuss was his twin mulling over about. And, furthermore, he was thirsting for a coke and was ‘hungry’ for some low-tech-news to read, from today’s newspapers.

Downstairs in the kitchen… Paul in his wheelchair glared at his evil-twin coming down the stairs. Paul was really ‘not’ satisfied… with the judgement of the high-court trial sentencing of Jim Hatcher, where justice was ‘not’ served…

… where he was given to serve-lifer at Graylands – by letting the criminal get-off-lighter, FOR ‘WHAT’ he had monstrously committed… to his beloved girlfriend.

Peter sensed Paul glowering-quiet in his wheelchair, as he grabbed a coke from the fridge, and felt the strong negative vibes up-close – and wished he ‘had’ one of those hand-held device-meters from the TV show Chernobyl – to record-radiation, that would certainly crackle in haywire levels right-now…

… his twin then spoke up, with accusations…

‘How did you ‘know’ Jim Hatcher saying ABOUT ‘TALKING-BICYCLE… now,’ even before his court trial?”

“I don’t-know… but I ‘just’ know.” Said Peter, deflecting the blames, while sipping his coke.

“Do you know’ this bloody-Jim-Hatcher…? ‘Do’ you know him, Peter!!?”

“No, I don’t.” The twin lied…

“Then in school-library, in the front of me and Jane you said ‘so’ – now ‘how’ did you know he bloody-said ABOUT TALKING BICYCLE, back then – tell me now !!?”

“I don’t know, Poe – maybe just like how-you can fly, maybe-THIS IS ‘MY’ GOD-GIVEN SUPERPOWER that I can foreshadow situation like… err… err… hey-Poe, help me out here, name a superhero that has-that ability… please, Poe, throw me a bone here… woof-woof – I’m Janey’s pariah dog… come, feed me a bone…” The one-armed chuckled aloud…

… Paul felt Peter was evading the ‘question’ – and was clowning around – as he was ‘smart’ too-coz’ their MOTHER WAS AT HOME–upstairs, in case he ‘hurt’ him...

“All lies, lies – Peter, don’t lie to me, I ‘know’ when you lie to me!”

“Whatever…”

Paul saw the ‘pawn’ of Asmodeus, walking over to the IKEA dinner table, and flipping pages of today’s newspaper. The crippled-twin was ‘not’ done yet… and he shouted at Peter, who turned his-back at him…

“Tell me the truth – DO YOU ‘KNOW’ JIM HATCHER!!?”

“Nope… the name does ‘not’ ring-a-ding-a-ling… nor light-up-X’mas-trees light-bulbs…” The one-armed-twin chuckles continued...

“Peter, don’t lie!”

Peter turned back to look at Paul.

“Now look at you dear-Paul, acting-up in your mind to the state of paranoia – a piece of caring brotherly advice here – drop it, before it eats you up… and make you ‘do’ things that you may regret later.”

“I’m ‘not’ paranoid!”

“Then, quit being drongo!”

The frustrated Paul shouted back, to ‘HOW’ THE POSSESSED-TWIN was deflecting the blames, at ease with ‘more’ denials…

If his Mom had ‘not’ been here, at this moment at home, Paul would have GOT A CONFESSION out of torturing his twin… with ‘such’ pain that he WOULD GLADLY INFLICT into him…

… Peter saw his angry twin storming ‘instead’ into the common-bathroom, and slamming the door loud, that followed BY CRASHING NOISES INSIDE. Then, he heard his inspector-mother calling on him, from upstairs.

“Peter! What’s with the racket down there…?”

“It’s Poe, Mom – HE IS ACTING bonkers-crazy!”

“Where is Poe?”

“Dunny…”

-O-

Inside the locked bathroom, Paul-levitated – and had tossed his wheelchair-hard at the toilet bowl. He turned around to face the mirror of the medicine cabinet, above the porcelain sink – seeing-the reflection that was ‘not’ his – but ‘was’ of his identical twin's face, smirking proudly…

… with an angry cry-out, the levitating Paul… punched the mirror…

… Peter’s reflection was ‘not’ there any-more, in the spider-web cracks of the broken mirror surface. And, Paul realized the drops of his blood, splatting in the white ceramic sink…

… he was bleeding bad, from a deep cut in his knuckles…

-O-

Caroline rushed downstairs, calling out her younger son’s name. She pounded at the locked bathroom door…with Peter standing behind-her.

“Poe! Open the door!”

It was quiet inside, a moment – and before the thought of the police-mother had, to kick open the door, Paul unlocked the door wide – and, his one-armed twin exclaiming out…

“Holy shit!”

There was blood everywhere – on the floor, on the wall, sink and door.

Immediately Caroline rushed to the kitchen to get a fresh clean-rag – to bandage him and take him to the hospital. She returned back to the dazed Paul… and Peter-stopped her…

“Look-Mom, there is a piece of mirror, sticking-out of the cut-in his hand, we have to remove it first… Mom, you have to bite-it-out with your teeth, and then ‘suck’ out the poison…”

“Shut-up Peter! I would ‘not’ do no such thing – we should get him to a doctor-fast.”

“Yea, Shut up, you drongo! What nonsense are you talking… this is ‘not’ a snake bite!”

The dazed cripple spoke out, dissing his annoying twin.

While wrapping Paul’s wrist carefully, Caroline made a policewoman observation – of the broken mirror, which was high over the blood-stained sink – and wondered ‘how’ high, the crippled-son ‘WOULD’ HAVE LEAPT, to punch the mirror, from his lower wheelchair.

“No-Mom, Poe would bleed out. Use your police-privileges… and make an APB and call an ambulance instead – it’s way faster… just like pizza delivery.”

“Shut-up with your nonsense, Peter – it is ‘not’ a life-threatening situation… we go and get ourselves, to the hospital ER.”

Caroline said… before pushing Paul, in the wheelchair to the front door…

Outside, at the Audi in the porch, they got the injured-tween into the backseat, Peter threw the folded wheelchair, in the car’s trunk, saying…

“I’m following too.”

“No Mom, make him stay at home – he will annoy us both to death!”

“I’m the big-twin-brother, I will go wherever you go, right Mom – isn’t that what you said the ‘last’ time…?”

Peter got in the front passenger seat, and the one-armed buckled his seat belt… as Caroline reversed the car, with Peter also cranking his-neck like his mother to look back before he clicked his tongue… looking at his bleeding twin at the backseat…

“… tisk-tisk… what a fine and costly mess you got into there, Poe – now there will be expenses of a broken bathroom mirror, doctor’s medical and car-wash bills, that you put-on Mom’s head-to-pay for…”

“Shut your bloody-self up!”

<>

IT THEN RAINED CATS AND DOGS, when the Audi snaked slowly in the traffic jam, with a pile-up accident which was a kilometre long ahead, on the road heading to the hospital. The mother and sons were quiet… as they progressed on the road, in a regressing manner. The bored-Peter spoke up…

“It would be-ages when we get out of this choc-a-block – and by then Mom, Poe would bleed to-death – and your Audi backseat… would then be a crime scene.”

“Shut-up moron, I’m ‘fine’ back here!”

-O-

All 3 sat unsettled as they saw a fire-truck in a distance, attending the accident situation. The bored one-armed boy spoke up-again, as he checked on Paul behind him…

“Are you still with us, Poe? Stay-awake and don’t go into-a-shock to fall asleep, and then you would go into-some tunnel with the light at its end…

“… which you would be tempted you-to cross over to God-our-Lord... But tell Him, politely – ‘no thanks, Sir… I would reckon to die ‘another’ day – okay Poe…?’”

“Mom, would you shut him up there – before I get a brain-haemorrhage and die, just by listening to his bogan-annoying-self.”

The equally annoyed Caroline warned her one-armed son…

‘Look here Peter, the next word coming out of your gap will result by my fist punching … into your comedian's mouth.”

Peter chucked hard – before he then heard… the exclaiming ‘Angie-Dickinson,’ who got a lit-up lightbulb going...

“Isn’t Mercy & Wilson, in that road? I’m sure I saw it… when I passed over before…”

“What place is that…? I’m kinda hungry… do they serve burgers, I can use a couple of that bad-boys tucked-in, in this cold weather now?”

In the backseat, Paul knew that place, as told by Alicia before in school. It was Jane’s mother’s medical practice, with-another doctor-business-partner, named Dr Rita Mercy.

Before long, Caroline found-the place… and Peter in the front seat looked up, at the board sign with his mouth gaped open…

MERCY & WILSON CLINIC – OPEN 7 DAYS A WEEK – 8 AM-4 PM

… as the one-armed boy-now realized – that was where JANEY’S MOTHER worked.

-O-

They were in a parking dilemma, as they faced no-spot available, in front of the clinic. But it was an emergency-situation and – Caroline dropped her boys-off in the rain, while she went hunting for a space to park the Audi. Meanwhile, in the rain, the cussing one-armed Peter pushed the wheelchair in the wet pavement, while Paul held a brolly over for the 2 of them, in his uninjured hand.

In the clinic… Peter took-charge – he gave instructions to the nurse, who ferried his twin over to be stitched, that Paul was ‘afraid’ of needles, while-seeing the protesting Paul pushed away, demanding-him to shut-up and ‘not’ embarrass him further in public. Then at the registration-counter, Peter filled up the necessary paperwork-fast, before his mother got in, and – joined back-to Paul… to give him moral ‘support.’

The dank clothed, Peter then walked into the surgery-room, and he saw the senior doctor, Rita Mercy in her mid-50s –who was cleaning-the wound, removing the glass-piece… before stitching Paul’s deep cut on his right hand-knuckles. Before long, Peter was filling-in details, to the blonde nurse who was assisting Dr Mercy, about ‘why’ his twin punched the mirror…

“Dear-Paul over here, had a bad-hair-day – and he didn’t like how he looked this morning, with mop-hair and sorts, so he punched the mirror and hurt himself…”

“Bloody-shut up Peter, go-kill yourself!”

“Poe-here, used to have this slick Korean-dude-like spiked hairstyle, where it stood-up like a friggin’ porcupine, as he used a ton-load of hard-gel and cans of sprays for his-hair styling. The spikes were so hard… the-one… that if you threw a can of coke on his hair – it will puncture the bloody-can, and coke will fizzle out splashhh…!”

“Ha-ha, no one is laughing, you bloody fool – go and take your crappy James-Bustar-act to an open-mic at the Big-Hoo-Haa – and be bloody-embarrass and get booed-off from the stage over there!”

… Dr Mercy saw both the twins were at each other’s throats – and put her firm foot down, in her clinic.

“Stop it you-2! Paul, you would bleed more, if you are aggressive and angry!”

At that same moment, INSPECTOR-MOTHER WALKED IN… and saw the big-hoo-haa with an angry Dr Mercy in the mix – Caroline smacked Peter’s head…

“Peter! get out of here now!”

“Come on Mom… I was just-entertaining a couple of working-class folks here…”

“No-Peter… you will ‘not’ – get out now!”

The one-armed boy walked out, into the hallway of the clinic to the waiting room. He looked up…

… and saw Janey’s mom, coming into the clinic – and the surprised Dr Wilson-too saw him…

“Peter…? Where is your mother?”

“G’ day Dr Wilson… it’s my brother – he is bleeding-bad…” His one arm, pointing to the surgery-room…

… Shelley Wilson had just dropped her B-girl at John Blake Country-club, a moment ago, and excused herself to run errands… THAT WAS TO COME to the clinic on her day-off, to return the patient medical-file-reports cabinet keys, which she accidentally took home yesterday.

Peter saw her hurrying-over to join them inside. He saw through the glassed main door and noticed the rain had just stopped. His stomach rumbled, as he walked out from the clinic, to see the wet-street road, with crowd-back walking without brollies.

Dr Wilson walked-in to see Insp Walker by the side, of her crippled son – who was in pain, while her business partner, Dr Mercy was stitching his hand.

‘What happened?’

Shelley thought at-the-moment, seeing the sweet-twin who gave her a good first impression where HE HAD BROUGHT HER FLOWERS, during the dinner-invitation she held, some weeks ago. Now, after talking to Paul’s mother, she discerned, that Paul was hurt and bleeding, by punching his fist into the bathroom mirror...

‘…there is a violent-side… in both of the inspector’s twin sons…’

-O-

Peter walked out 7-eleven with potato-chips and a can of coke. He walked back over to Mercy & Wilson… and went to the side of the building to snack in private. He held the cylinder Pringles carton, in-between his stump’s armpit… and fed himself-with his free-right hand, while listening to music in his iPod.

From his ‘hidden’ private-spot, Peter then HEARD FAMILIAR VOICES talking outside the clinic – it was Janey’s mom talking to his mom. The one-armed eavesdropped, into the conversation of both the mothers, who spoke of their children…

… who were ‘both’ affected since Alicia Wong was in a coma.

Dr Wilson suggested to his mother that Paul needed a ‘distraction’– like she herself made, by taking her daughter’s focus-away, TO JOIN HER TO THE COUNTRY-CLUB, where Jane ‘was’ going for her ‘first’ tennis lesson by the Connery coaches. The doctor excused herself to pick-up Jane, by her leeway in beating the ‘chokers’ on the road, to the country-club.

Peter peeked-over to see her walking to her blue SUV, while his mother too went inside, to the surgery-room. The one-armed boy binged-on his potato-chips, while he processed their earlier conversation…

… he was then ‘pleased’ of the outcome, drinking his coke…

‘Okay, Janey-dear… go to your mummy’s country-club and train – coz’ you were arrogant… when I had invited you out to train with me before at school…

‘…oh-no… me Chinatown cobber said the sun will make me freckles spread all-over me beautiful blind-face…’

“…oh, me Boyyo… is sufficient for me Bludger-lazy-ass, to win… bla-bla-bla…

‘…but listen-Janey… I even had removed the ‘Chinatown-equation’ distraction for you too – so that you can be bloody-be focused and train for ‘our’ PFC’s comeback in the school’s mix-doubles-competition…

‘…Bloody Oath… and thank you very much Ma’ Wilson for your ‘dedication’ to my-cause…

'... and, I’m take-over from you now…

'... no worries-there…

'… coz’ your blind-daughter is now, in her right ‘chosen’ path…

'… and in-my ‘good’ hand…’