THE FULL-BELLIED PAUL STAGGERED TO LEVITATE from his wheelchair to upright position at the IKEA table. He put all of the leftover pizzas in a single box, as he floated-over to the fridge – putting it on the bare-rack of refrigerator…

… it was for his Sunday-morning brekkie…

… all 5 slices – as he had known that Peter ‘disliked’ eating cold-pizzas…

Paul too WAS ‘AWARE’ THAT he had to ‘share’ the Marciano pizzas their mom bought with Peter – but HIS TWIN ‘SELFISHLY’ ordered an Aussie-pizza for himself…

… and to ‘PUNISH’ PETER…

… he did ‘not’ WANT TO SHARE ‘their’ Marciano’s…

‘… he had ‘done’ this to me ‘before’ – and I SHOULD ‘PUNISH’ him too – like the time, at the other-Perth when – I ordered a bucket of KFC for dinner that was ‘to-be-shared’ by both of us – but while I took a nap… that ended me ‘tripping’ TO THE DREAMWORLD – where I… clock time-to go on a ‘fighting’ mission…

‘… so, I ‘woke-up’ the next-morning… hungry-and-all for brekkie… just to find out that Peter had eaten the entire bucket of fried-chicken ‘that’ night… leaving me just the bones…

‘… like I’m a household pet…’

Never-the-less, with $50 in his pocket – Paul went into his room like a rich-kid after getting his ‘pocket-money’ just now – which would temporarily solve his eating-and-transportation budget problems for 2 days, just-in-case his mom does ‘not’ come home tonight – tops-3 days, where he also have Jane’s $20 bill, which he had ‘not’ spent.

… Paul sighed thinking back when his dad WAS ALIVE – where they grew up in a household with money problems, when the parents fought a-lot – because of lack-of-it or waste-of-it…

… as Solomon Walker was a compulsive gambler…

-O-

With his hunger pangs satisfied with the pizzas, Paul had focus – he was recalling his principal who ‘mentioned’ that his mother WOULD RETURN TONIGHT…

‘… but would you…? Jane said that the Americans will come ‘again’ tomorrow – to ‘test’ our Cursed-trios’ blood-samples… Mom... would you-be by my-side…’

Paul was contemplating ‘again’ whether he ‘SHOULD-BE TAKING’ the blood-test tomorrow…

… but if failing to-do-so…

… would make his-twin the ‘SUPERIOR’ BEACON to Jane…

-O-

The alarm clock displayed the time of 7:02 PM…

… he desperately wanted to talk with his girlfriend ‘now’ – to know the ‘updates’ of the Americans coming tomorrow – as Jane had promised to call-back later, to help with his Math homework…

… they both had shared a tacit understanding that PAUL WOULD ‘NOT’ CALL HER – but only Jane would do-so – as her doctor-mother DOES ‘NOT’ APPROVE’ of her B-girl dating at a tender age as-of a middle-school girl…

… her mother’s fears were being the ‘naïve-and-rebellious’ blind-daughter would be gullible to-be prego – if she had been ‘tricked’ and lured to promiscuous sex…

… but that was ‘NOT’ THE CASE…

… as both Jane-and-Paul were ‘virgins’ in all-the 3 VERSIONS OF PERTH where they were in-before – even as teens back in Perthland, were they did ‘not’ sleep-together…

… unlike their-counterpart, Peter – who was a ‘live-in’ boyfriend of billionaire heiress Jezebel Crowley, in her uncle’s Stamford hotel.

But Jane too ‘had’ complained that SHE WAS ‘BULLIED’…

… where the post-Treeton doctor-mother was THE STRICTEST among the ‘other’ versions of Shelley Wilson OF THE 3-WORLDS… and, the only ‘good-mother’ was…

… the one in Perthland…

… but Jane too had ‘left’ her – by ‘killing-off’ her teenaged-daughter, her-host self – to ESCAPE THE ‘TRAP’ that Asmodeus had SET IN PERTHLAND – where the Cursed-trio, were stripped-off their superpowers in that reality.

<><>

HER MOTHER DID IT AGAIN…

While the Wilsons had their first family-dinner at their renovated-house that Saturday – Shelley the doctor-mother dug-up the ‘recent’ topic of the night of the black panther attack, and complained to Anthony – where blind-Jane had put the life of baby-Samuel and herself in danger…

… by ‘coming-out’ of her locked-bedroom to confront the wild feral beast…

At the table, Anthony did ‘not’ say much – and let his nit-picking doctor-wife -- vent and rant her traumas of the Monday stormy-night…

-O-

Equally, traumatize by passive-bullying at the unpleasant dining-table setting, Jane then returned back to her bedroom. The blind-girl cried alone in her bed…

… soon, Jane heard her parents arguing ‘about-her’ in their newly-renovated master-bedroom – she used her pillow to cover her ears – but at the same time, wanting to ‘hear’ what ‘new’ accusation her antagonistic mother ‘had-to-say’…

… as she eavesdropped to her loud-voiced mother, from the ‘other’ room…

“That boy was ‘there’ at the Hilton hotel-stay – I had the bloody evidence of his clothes from Jane’s hotel-room… where I took it, but it surprisingly ‘disappeared’ in ‘our’ room…

“Hey Shelley, I’m having an analysis-paralysis with the harebrained logic of your accusation – now, how could the Walker-boy get to her room – he’s crippled…?”

“No, you-dummy! The ‘other-one’ – the one-armed fellow – the ‘one’ whom our B-girl ran at the dairy field-trip’s thunderstorm – to chase after her ‘bad-boy’… her juvenile lover!”

“Hey, don’t say ‘again’ that Jane is sleeping-around! I trust my daughter is ‘not’ like that – you just have been harsh and mean to your own-daughter just to please your bloody ego of to-be right in ‘your’ everything you touch and breathe into – and I don’t believe ‘anything’ that you say, as I ‘know’ that my daughter is innocent and would ‘not’ do such things – and, why’ are you judging and going-on an aggressive warpath on those poor special-need children…?”

“Hah! Special-need children, you say – they are using bloody ‘disabilities’ as an ‘excuse’ – open your eyes, Tony, they are growing into teens… this is the time their hormones would rage to do irrational and immoral activities! I have come across these ‘similar’ cases in the clinic where I had dealt with many dazed-and-bamboozled parents who come for advice on their daughters’ underaged-pregnancy…”

“Enough Shelley! I don’t want to ‘believe’ in any words you say about my daughter nor of her ‘disabled’ classmates – YOU ARE ‘IMAGINING’ THINGS, and making-up excuse…”

“What, ‘imagining’ things!!? Hey, I HEARD’ HIS BLOODY VOICE on the night the black panther broke loose into our house – he was in ‘her-bedroom’ when it all happened… where were you, Anthony… a daddy-who-trust-his-daughter – you were out with the boys bloody drinking your hearts-out…!!?”

In her bedroom, the blind-girl then heard her mother ‘HARASSING’ HER FATHER – into an adult family-argument of financial matters – where Anthony ‘had’ used-up a large amount of the family saving to go-into his ‘own’ business…

‘… poor Daddy… he ‘stood-up’ for me…’

She ‘felt’ guilty that she was ‘cursed’ by Asmodeus – and had spread the cursed-virus to ‘further’ disarray ‘her’ family in this post-Treeton ‘survival’ of bad-lucks…

‘… poor Daddy…’

She cried herself to sleep – and did ‘not’ call Paul that Saturday evening.

<><>

IT WAS SUNDAY 9:04 PM – Paul was in his room, trying to figure-out his difficult Math homework. Everything mentally was caving-in into his cess-pool mind, and ‘felt’ overwhelmed like he was drowning into the ‘numbers-puzzle’…

… with those Ms Bloom’s Math of cosign-and-tangent were Russian to him…

‘… where are you, Jane…?’

… while waiting for her call, he checked-out some dance videos in YouTube…

-O-

Moments-later, he heard the familiar sound of an AUDI’S ENGINE, PARKING at the porch – Paul swooshes-off from his bed to go for the door…

“Mom is back!”

In excitement, Paul realized that he had ‘nearly’ floated-out of the door to greet his mother. The crippled-tween turned back and sat on his wheelchair. He was then in motion, and saw Peter rushing down the stairs – and he was excited too, after her 6-days absence.

Peter beat him to the main-door to be the ‘first’ to greet Caroline – a sibling rivalry ‘game’ the twins ‘competitively’ played – ever since she became A SINGLE-MOM, after their father ‘died’ in the BMW crash, 2 years ago.

Paul did ‘not’ go out in porch – but he remained by the door, hearing his twin was trying to get into her ‘good-books’ – as he told their inspector-mom of his laboured-effort under the sun today – chopping the branch of the willow-tree, which ‘crashed’ into Poe’s former-bedroom upstairs – on the stormy Monday night last week…

… the one-armed son even told his mother that he ‘studied’ by – his reading-assignment-homework with his study-aid AI Pete2.0.

He heard Caroline’s voice asking Peter at the porch…

“Have you 2 had dinner?”

“Yea, I had pizza…’

Inside, Paul thought of the pizzas delivered by Principal Harris just now – where Peter doesn’t know of…

… where he had eaten Peter’s ‘share’ without his twin’s knowledge – and stashed the balance pie in the fridge.

Paul then saw his mother ‘emerging’ from the front-door – she ‘stood’ tall and was larger-than-life in her policewoman’s uniform…

… he choked… and, the crippled-son broke down in-tears…

“Poe… what is ‘wrong’…?” Caroline rushed-in to comfort her ‘good-son.’

“… I missed you, mom…. I miss you… how worried I was for the past 6 days that – you would be ‘bitten’ by the zombies…”

‘… mediocre…’

… Peter scoffed – while noticing their-mother hugging his twin, consoling him…

“Man-up you, drama-queen… mom is out there to solve her-crime-case of her career, to keep ‘our’ Perth’s streets safe – and here you are like a helpless koala care-bear, always wanting your ‘daily’ mommy hugs…”

Peter scoffed again – when he saw both mother-and-son who DID ‘NOT’ DISPUTE to what he had just said…

… he then ‘thought’ of Hajji…

‘… good thing that Janey’s brother had ‘NOT’ BEEN KIDNAPPED by Hajji at the zoo, in this realm – that ‘Hajji’ of that-world, made a ‘promise’ with me that too he would ‘break-and-lift’ the Cursed-trio’s Blackmagic spell… BUT COME TO THINK OF IT – this ‘same’ curse had brought me ‘many-good-lucks’ in this post-Treeton…’

He was irritated that his mother was ‘caring’ too much for his-twin – so, Peter interrupted…

“Hey-Mom, did you catch him – the man in the news – that Hajji the zookeeper?”

“… no… not yet…” the inspector-mom responded with a sigh…

“… no worries, Mom – he’s a bloody slippery-one – but you’ll eventually nab him…”

Paul was quiet – and was observing his bragging-twin was telling their policewoman-mom of ‘how-to-do’ her job…

… based on the Netflix-movies he had watched – with the suggestions of K9-dog units and patrol police-helicopters to searchlight the curfew streets of Perth City…

From his wheelchair, the silent Paul remained passive while listening to his mother updating’ Peter on the current ‘status’ of the police investigation in the zombie-attacks. Paul was impressed that his twin had been following the online-news of the most-wanted criminal of the city… where even Paul did ‘not’ do-so on the current updates, as he was ‘busy’ with homework and studying…

The crippled-twin realized that…

… he was a ‘matured’ Peter-version – as he WAS ‘EVOLVING,’ and could accept changes of this post-Treeton realm…

… unlike that ‘other’ stubborn Peter of the ‘other’ Perth – who would natter nonsense as he mix-up realities of the world he breathe-in with the Dreamworlds’ – and that infuriated the mom of the ‘other’ Perth too, when he went ‘hostile’ – where Paul suspected…

… it was due to Peter’s intake of illegal mind-bending drugs…

‘… is he still on drugs…?’

Caroline distracted both of her twin sons…

“You 2 listen – your classmate’s mother Mrs Wilson called me the other day, requesting on behalf of her scientist-brother – that Kimura Star would be sending a couple of their medical staff to Perth, and test you both for ‘radiation’ level, on victims that were struck by lightning… for some scientist experiment for cancer-studies…”

Paul ‘already’ knew that piece of information – because his girlfriend had told’ him earlier – but on the wheelchair, he sat speechless – ruminating…

‘… what cancer studies…?’

Then, he heard his twin…

“What test on us…? What are we some down-under lab-rats? But in the name of science, that the world wants a cure for a deadly disease like cancer, that eats-up humanity’s flesh-and-bones like Pac-Man – I’m signing up for this good deed…”

Peter smirked at Paul – who was dumbstruck…

‘… what cure for cancer…? In the ‘other’ world, Hiro and Taro came to Perth to test ‘our’ blood – but I DID ‘NOT’ PARTICIPATE – and, Peter-and-Jane ‘did’…

‘… where the ‘miracle-results’ were Peter’s blood-type had changed from Group-B to the rare-Golden blood… err… HAS MY BLOOD changed too…?

‘… then, came the check-list questionnaire ‘too’ – that wanted TO ‘KNOW’ IF I had ‘superpowers or ‘not’…’

Paul sat still in his chair and was wordless – he saw his twin ‘manipulating’ their mother by asking ‘related’ questions…

… where the Devil was a ‘great-pretender’ – whose performance was Oscar-worthy for his method-acting…

“So ‘when’ are they coming, Mom…? I have homework assignments to do with my AI Kimura Star’s Pete2.0…?”

“They will be here at noon – after visiting the Wilsons in the morning…”

“… noon, hmm – what ‘about’ Sunday mass tomorrow – are we going over, and grab some pastries on the way back, as we would normally do?”

“Sorry-Peter, we skip church tomorrow – I’m totally exhausted from all the work for the past 6 days…”

“… hmm, okay – thank God that our-God is ‘forgiving’ God – you go-ahead and hang-up your super-cop cape for the night, and rest well, mom – you deserve it – anyways, I’m ‘clean’ – and got no sins to go confession for… so-we can ‘skip’ church tomorrow…”

Paul glowered at his over-confident twin who was lying bluntly to their mother’s face…

‘… oh-yea, what ‘about’ you sneaking-out in the middle-of-the-night – to have sex with Bella…?’

Paul scowled as HE ‘SUSPECTED’ that Peter had been in contact with Jane’s uncle, behind his back – WHO REQUESTED FOR Hiro-and-Taros’ revisit in the post-Treeton Perth…

… he remembered days ago, ALICIA SAYING – ask and you’ll receive…

‘… you-lucky-devil… YOU ‘ASKED’ the-uncle – and you got your Pete2.0, AI learning device… WHAT ELSE, did you ‘ask’ him…?’

-O-

For the next half-hour, Caroline was talking to both her twins in the living room. She was then yawning and was exhausted and excused herself, to go upstairs to sleep…

Peter followed her, up the stairs… grinning to his success…

… that his ‘pretending’ had left him off-the-hook – where his inspector-mom did ‘not’ know of his ‘involvement’ as a ‘lookout-guy’ at the South Perth Zoo – on the night when a ‘mediocre’ member of the Hateful-8, named Horse-died…

… where the dead-Horse’s ‘parts’ were then dismembered – and his remains were set aflame along with his motorbike.

Paul was left alone in the living room, of his late-father’s house…

…his mind was running wild that left him edgy – ruminating of Hiro and Taros’ arrival tomorrow…

‘… should I ‘test’ my blood… or should I ‘not’…?’

His fear in the ‘other’ Perth was that – the thunderstorm lightning had ‘struck-and-cursed’ with an alteration of his-DNA since he was bestowed with superhero-abilities…

… but that was ‘not’ the case…

Jane ‘did’ the ‘same’ blood-test – AND TESTED ‘negative’…

… ONLY PETER’s blood ‘had’ changed, in the Hiro and Taros’ visit…

Paul scoffed recalling the silly-questionnaire which the visitors had then asked ‘verbally’ – whether they can ‘fly’ or shoot-electric-bolts…

… where the test-results ‘TOO’ WERE ‘negative’…

Paul snapped his fingers – and it sparked a blue flint – he chuckled as he had ‘fooled’ the Kimura Star’s visitors that’ day, at the ‘other’ Perth.

He kept snapping his fingers – until it smoked. His finger-tips were warm – and, he placed it at his throat, on his diamond-shaped ‘cursed-scar’…

Ruminating, Paul then ‘decided’ TO TAKE-PART IN the blood-test tomorrow…

‘… oh-yea, Jane – we ‘both’ WILL TAKE THIS TEST tomorrow – where the ‘results’ SHOULD-BE NEGATIVE…’

Paul too came to a decision to turn-in for the night – switching-off the house-lights – he wheelchaired in the dark to his windowless bedroom…

… it was light-out before 10 PM, that Saturday night in the Walkers-house.

‘… a big day tomorrow…’

<><>

AT AROUND 2-ISH THAT NIGHT, PAUL WAS AWAKENED by loud distressed screams and wails. Without any hesitation he sprung-up from his bed, levitating fast out of his windowless bedroom – to anticipate a home-intrusion…

… sleepy-and-dazed, as he wasn’t sure whether it was either crime or supernatural related…

… but he recognised it was PETER’S VOICE.

In the dark, he rushed from the kitchen to the living room and flew up-to-the high-ceiling of the house that his father built.

His eyes caught a red-glow – it was the ‘spying’ CCTV camera…

… making a mental note -- to delete the footage of him flying like Casper-the-friendly-ghost at 2-ish in the night.

Peter’s manic voice WAS DISTINCT COMING from behind his room, as Paul landed upstairs – only to realise, his mom was sleeping in the other room…

… since being home-alone for the last-6 days – he had totally forgotten that she had ‘returned’ last night…

‘… is it a trap? Have Peter CRIED ‘WOLF’ to lure me upstairs – for mom to see my super-abilities…?’

Paul’s mind jammed-and-froze as he held the room door-knob of his twin, recalling…

… where Caroline ‘nearly’ CAUGHT HIM ‘going’ upstairs ‘before’ – on the night when Jane’s brother was abducted at the other-Perth – while ‘acting’ on… the educated-intel from his dead-father from the-other-world – ‘giving’ premonition of-the-intel in his sleep…

… a negative ‘thought’ flicked…

‘… but…Peter WAS DATING his Janey back-there – he was her coach – and THEY ‘BOTH’ were the Perth’s Famous Couple…’

Hearing the sounds-of-ruckus, Paul was ‘now’ in a dire strait – whether to flee, before his dead-tired-mother who seemed to-be slow to the response after ‘being-away’ for 6 days sleeping-in her own bed – or, to confront him, hysterical twin, himself in his room…

… he chose the latter, AND OPENED the door-knob…

-O-

In the darkened room, Paul saw a terrified Peter standing on his bed…

‘… huh… ‘why’ is the devil ‘not’ glowing in-red…?’

Peter was hugging himself with his single-arm, nattering aloud in tears…

“Mom! Dad! Where are you…?”

… he was making a ruckus that might wake-up their mother, sleeping in the master bedroom – the twin then saw him by the open-door – Paul immediately shut the door…

“Who are you!!?”

Peter shouted – as Paul rushed-over and dove at his twin. The brothers crashed on the bed. The cripple-tween placed his right palm over his twin’s shouting-mouth…

“Why you braying like a jackass, you-moron!!?”

He heard Peter’s muffled voice…

“… who…? Poe…? Is that you…?”

“Who else?”

“… but-how – you ‘look’ older… err, Poe… Poe, my-arm… my-arm… where is ‘my’ arm?”

Paul thought he ‘was’ joking…

Not getting a response from his-twin – Peter continued to cry-out…

“DAD! MOM! Where are you…?”

Paul wanted TO ELECTROCUTE HIM but hesitated – instead place his palm back to his mouth…

“Hey, you moron! Keep it down!”

Peter nodded-and-sobbed softly now…

“… my arm… my tennis-playing arm – where is it…?”

The irked Paul finally responded -- at ‘what’ he thought WAS A ‘SICK-JOKE’…

“WTF! Are you joking with me!!? ‘When’ you are the ‘one’ who caused Dad ‘dying’ that day!!!”

“… what… Dad is dead…? …oh-nooo… I’m now an orphan…”

Peter cried as he sobbed in silence…

Paul ‘was’ confused with his twin’s feigning…

‘… it’s a ‘trick’ – the devil ‘PLAYED-ME’ – SOON, Mom would be here to ‘know’ of my secret identity…’

“Keep it down, fool – Mom is sleeping…”

“… Mommmm… Dad is dead… Mommmmm…”

“Shut up!”

He got onto his twin’s one-armed body – pressed his-palm hard as it choked him out-of-breath…

“… mmmpf… Poe… can’t breathe… you… hurting-me…”

… Paul released his palm a-bit…

“… just, shut-up!”

Both the brothers were still for a moment – as Peter caught up in his-breath…

“… ‘why’ did you ‘say’ Dad died because of me…? ‘When’ did he die…?”

Paul ‘was’ pissed again – with his twin’s ‘prank’…

“Shut up, I’m warning you-Peter! You don’t get-to ‘joke-here’ about Dad ‘when’ he died more than 2 years ago, because of ‘you’…”

“What? He ‘died’ 2 years ago…? ‘When’ I was 7…? How come I can’t remember…?”

The puzzled Paul did a mental calculation:

‘… 7+2 = 9 years…?’

“Hey-Peter, how ‘old’ are you…?”

“… err… the last I checked I was 7… going 8… and Dad made a ‘promised’ too-to me of a PlayStation 4 for my birthday… just like Uncle Murray bought for Alan…”

“We already ‘have’ a PS4, you-drongo!”

Paul then paused – as he recalled Peter’s ‘mentioned’ cousin-Alan Walker’s birthday party that he-too attended when he was 7 – where, in the party when he ate into a gluten-coma of the ‘most’ pizzas eaten in their all-cousins’ table-eating challenge…

… a self-record he broke last night, after-5-years – where he ate ‘even-more’ as a tween…

Paul got an inkling…

“… come-here…”

He dragged Peter from the bed to the wardrobe mirror…

“Look at yourself! You’re ‘not’ 7 nor 8!”

… Peter was in a state of both shocked-and-fascinated… of his ‘ageing’…

“… Mommmmm…”

Paul slapped him…

“Shut-up! She is sleeping…!”

“… Mommmmm…”

Paul pinned him to the floor – and glared into his ‘frightened’ eyes…

‘… ‘why’ isn’t he ‘not’ fighting-back…?’

“Poe! Please don’t ‘bully’ me… I just want to see mom…”

… since birth, there was ‘something’ about Peter’s eyes that resembled Solomon their father's – while Paul’s eyes were like Caroline their mothers…

‘… that ‘look’…’

… IT REMINDED Paul also of ‘their’ sibling-rivalry in the Walkers-house – and fighting over trivial things where the twins-had growing-up in their-able bodies…

… but at the end-of-the-day, they ‘HAD’ THEIR BACKS when they were 7…

… but a COUPLE-OF-YEARS went by…

… where Peter got good at-sports – and won the school’s tennis championship – that made him egoistic and arrogant…

… AND ‘BULLIED’ him-more…

“… Poe… you’re hurting-me…”

Paul ‘realized’ he was still pinning the one-armed using his ‘own’ over-weight physique – but…

… he did ‘not’ break his stare from his ‘frightened’ twin’s eye…

… it tingled his ‘own’ shattered-spine,’ with the fright of the ‘discovery’…

‘… wtf… IT IS ‘PETER’… ‘when’ we WERE 7… OR-8… ‘how’ is this possible…?’

“Poe! Let-go… you’re hurting me…”

The confused Paul eased the pressure – where it looked-like and-felt that – he ‘had’ pinned-down a surrendering wrestler, who don’t have an arm to tap-for-submission…

… still ‘processing’ the situation-and-circumstances, he heard his twin acting like a broken-record…

“Poe, where is Mom…?”

“She’s sleeping!”

“… I wanna see mom…”

Paul dragged Peter and tossed him into his-bed…

“No, she is tired – you go to sleep too!”

… but there was no ‘shutting-up’ him, as – he was into his 20-questions…

“Poe, how is that I can’t remember losing my arm? And, Dad-too… was I in his funeral?”

‘… is he ‘still’ joking…?’

Paul was back-angry – and was ‘about-to’ electrocute him… but hesitated-to…

… the ‘what-if’ it was ‘HIS’ 8 YEARS old brother, whom he ‘once’ knew…

“No talking – sleep now! You’ll see mom in the morning!”

Peter sniffled…

“… but I’m so afraid to sleep… what-if I lose my other’ arm too when I wake in-the morning… and, my legs too… what-if I wake up as-like that Aussie – that Nick Vujicic – oh-nooo, Poe… I don’t want to be like him… a blob with-a-head…”

Paul sighed at the absurdity – OF A HANDICAP ‘looking-down’ on his own-kind…

“No, you ‘only’ lost your arm in the accident – yes… you attended dad’s funeral… Peter-go, go-to-sleep now-and… your memory ‘will’ come back tomorrow, okay…?”

Peter sat-up on his bed…

“… Poe, can you ‘stay’ with me – I’m scared…”

Paul hesitated in the darkened room, but seeing the silhouette of his alone-twin on his bed ‘pleading’ – he sighed again…

“…okay…”

He sat on cushioned-chair at the dark-side of the bedroom – and was slowly ‘processing’ the event of his twin as – his-8 year-old-self…

‘… wow… wait till Jane hear about this ‘version of Peter – one-of the 4th kind…’

He had ‘known’ and ‘encountered’ -- the ‘other’ 3-kinds:

Peter of the ‘other-Perth’ Peter of Perthland Peter of the ‘now’ post-Treeton…

‘… an 8-year-old… seriously…? Is Peter devolving…?’

Paul watched over-him – like his role of his-brother’s-keeper – listening in the gloom, of his twin sobbing himself softly to sleep…

“… mom… dad…’

Paul kept 'watch' – he ‘knew’ Peter was grieving over his lost arm too – just as 2 years ago, when Paul too slept the nights crying where he was crippled, and could ‘not’ walk no-more…

… for the next 15-minutes, he was into his own-thought process, while Peter was asleep…

‘… is he ‘cured’ from his possession in this post-Treeton… but Peter is the ‘Chosen-one’ of Asmodeus… did the All-Father of Evil, GAVE-UP on his prized-possession that easily…?’

Paul yawned as his eyelids got heavy – looking at his watch – 2:33 AM…

… he was too lazy to go downstairs to his own-windowless bedroom, and decided to sleep upstairs…

… where he used to ‘sleep’ upstairs – in his own-bedroom WHEN HE WAS an able-bodied boy before the tragic accident…

Paul kipped…

-O-

The crippled tween slept awkward on the chair – he was back in his dream-cycle mode – and, his aura ‘entered’ into his-Dreamworld…

Paul’s aura was in the patio of the Walkers-house… he felt the pleasant warm-heat of the morning sun as he ethereally floated…

… he ‘heard’ of children playing in the garden…

Paul’s aura levitated over – and saw the 8-year-old twins were playing catch as they ran – the abled-bodied Peter was chasing Paul, dashed around the well-kept lawn…

… they were both holding superhero merchandise figurine-toys…

… Paul’s was Spiderman – Peter’s was Venom.

The aura then saw Solomon and Caroline were ‘together’ gardening in that happy-Walkers-family-day morning, as they were surrounded by vibrant colourful well-bloomed flowers, both potted-and-hanging…

… the aura smiled – looking at the parents in loving-harmony…

Then, a sudden crying shriek ‘interrupting’ the pleasant mesmerizing place – as the aura together with twins’ parents looked up…

… seeing at Peter wailing-out…

“Dad! Dad, Poe ‘broke’ my toy – he broke the ‘arm’ of my Venom-toy…!”

The aura saw an angry Solomon walking fast towards the boys – and the father smacked-hard the 8-year-old Paul’s forearm, shouting…

“Stop it, Poe – you bloody ‘behave’ there!”

The aura saw Paul the kid too crying, and the wailing Peter – ran across hollering to Caroline, and hugged her – the mother too shouted…

“Stop it, Poe – don’t be a bully!”

… Paul regained his sentient – and was up-and-about from his dream…

-O-

He saw Peter asleep in his bed in the bedroom, which was brightening by the sunrise behind the window drapes. As Paul sat up on the chair, he felt upper-bodily aches from sleeping at the awkward position on the furniture…

… yawning and looking at his watch – 5:35 AM.

Paul decided to leave Peter’s bedroom and head downstairs to sleep on his own bed. He unlocked the door – and levitated-along in the darkened hallway ethereally…

… where he passed the master bedroom, where Caroline was sleeping…

‘… thank-God… Peter did ‘not’ wake her-up with his racket… sleep Mom… you ‘deserve’ the break…’

Then, he looked up at the red-glow of the spying-CCTV camera…

… it would-be a 15-minutes task to ‘delete’ the footage evidence in the home-security system…

… but the yawning Paul procrastinated…

‘… I’ll bloody do it Monday… when I’m ‘home-alone’…’

The tired Paul held-on to the bannister for balance, as he levitated descending the steps.

As he tread-ethereally in the kitchen, he thought of the ‘fake-reality dream,’ which he had in Peter’s bedroom…

‘… Dad did ‘not’ hit me all-my life… and, Mom too had ‘not’ called me a bully ‘there’… and neither did I ‘own’ a Spiderman figurine toy…

‘… or did I…?’

His mind raced to the Perthland-memory-bank – OF THE PHOTOS he saw…

… in his step-father, Joe Dickson’s photo-album – where he saw that he ‘owned’ such a toy – and Peter too, was Venom…

Paul did ‘not’ want to think-deep into the ‘fake-dream’ – all he wanted was to go-to-sleep…

… he crashed into his bed in his windowless-room, into an instant slumber…

All 3 members of the Walker household slept in their own beds, on that dawn of Sunday…

<><>

THE BIOLOGICAL CLOCK-IN CAROLINE WALKER woke-her up at 7 am – it was her routine to dress-in her bathrobe to go-downstairs and pick-up the newspaper at the porch, put on a pot of coffee, before showering to go to work…

… but IT’S SUNDAY…

So, she decided to go out to the city…

Dressed-up in casual clothes of her floral-blouse and jeans…

… and she put-on some makeup… and perfume…

… her sons were asleep…

Caroline Walker sneaked-out of the Walker-house, to go to the John Blake Country Club…

… to share the bed of her suitor.

-O-

The Air Supply’s ballad-compilation CD played in the Audi, as she drove in the empty roads of the city, on a Sunday. She was mesmerized with the crooning duet’s mega-love tunes, which fled to the memories of her yesterday’s SATURDAY EVENING…

… where, she finished her 6-days-shift at 5 PM, and she went over-to Marciano to buy pizza-dinners for her twins… before beating the curfew traffic at 6…

… while paying for the takeaway pizzas, Caroline received a call from Tom Harris…

… her amour affair with her secret-lover ‘pursued’ – between a widow and a divorcer…

Her ‘boyfriend’ had charmed her-will to divert her path…

…to the country club's suite-room – where they-both instantly made passionate love on the king-sized bed…

AT 5:42 PM, Caroline almost got-off the bed to dress-up to ‘go’ home – but Tom told that she ‘looked-like’ someone in-exhaustion and fatigue, to-be driving home after her 6-days on-duty, and he told her to go to sleep…

… as HE VOLUNTEERED to deliver the pizza-over to her boys – as…

… HE WANTED TO GET ‘to-know’ Peter and Paul…

HEARING ‘THAT’ gave the maternal widowed-single-mother an extra-orgasm…

‘… he’s a ‘keeper’…’

-O-

Tom returned to the suite-room after an hour, to find the naked Caroline sound asleep – he left her-be, and -- went out to the club bar for a drink…

… he came an hour later, slightly tipsy and – saw her still asleep…

… he was hungry and called room-service and ordered 2 vegan dishes on the menu – and he wanted to eat ‘what’ his girlfriend’s preferential taste that evening…

Soon the hot food arrived, but Caroline was still sleeping…

… and-like an incubus, Tom made love to her, in her sleep…

Caroline was then sentient by the sex, waking-up to realize she had a ‘solid’ 2 hour-nap – Tom had then surprised her with food-and-wine, as they lingered and ate…

… ‘as’ her boys back-home were ‘already’ fed…

Tom suggested that she should stay-over the night – as the boys are ‘fine’ over-there – and were ‘well-behaved’…

… but the inspector-mother felt ‘guilty’ – for ‘NOT’ SEEING her twin-sons for 6 days…

At 8:38 PM, Caroline left the country-club -- to go home to the Walkers.

<><>

THE EARLY SUNDAY MORNING AT THE WILSON RESIDENCE – Jane got ready for her Sunday family-day brekkie ‘downstairs.’ She looked forward to it weekly, as it was the only-day her father was around, where Monday comes – the entire Wilson household would-go into their work and school lives…

… but, today…

… the blind-girl hesitated to go downstairs after her parents ‘had’ an argument over her last night – when the doctor-mother scolded her for ‘night’ of the black panther attack – for her ‘being’ irresponsible and ‘nearly’ put her baby-brother’s life in danger.

The parent’s quarrel escalated as her mother ‘suspected’ that a ‘member’ of the Walker-twin ‘had’ sex with her during their stay at the Hilton hotel…

… and, mother suspected it ‘was’ Peter Walker.

‘… but that’s ‘not’ true – I’m still a virgin…’

She was faithful to Paul – but, in ‘another’ Perth she was in love with her other-beacon, Peter…

… her rebellious ‘bad-boy’…

It was her fascination with his CONFIDENCE AND DEFIANT of attitude-and-nature, for a timid blind-girl coming into a world-of sighted-students from her former school-for-the-blind – where, 4 years ago…

… Peter had won the tennis interschool district championship, and was Stamford High’s pride-and-joy at that-time – where-by, secretly blind-Jane had a deep crush on him…

The timid girl ‘mirrored’ her Champ’s confidence and defiant into her ‘own’ life…

… and in no-time, head-logged frequently with her prim-and-proper ‘controlling-mother’ – with her own blend of rebelliousness and disobedience…

“JANE! Are you coming down?”

Her father’s calling her -- ‘breaking’ her reverie of Peter…

“Coming, Daddy…”

Jane decided to ‘suck-it-up’ and FACE HER DEMON – where her ‘bully’ doctor-mother who would be downstairs too…

She left her room with the gift of her BFF’s retractable walking-stick-cum-baton…

-O-

Blind-Jane ‘had’ memorized her steps-inside the Wilson’s house – where need ‘not’ use a cane. She raced down the stairs without holding the bannister.

She had anticipated her faithful-dog, Piper to wait at the foot of the staircase – like he ‘did’ when she was the student-of her former blind-school – but the dog was ‘not’ there…

… these days, being ‘not’ her blind guide-dog – the demoted as a house-dog, ol’ Piper – was always in the kitchen, begging for scraps from Lola…

‘… greedy-boy…’

The highlight of Sunday’s brekkie was her father making pancakes for the family, while Lola their maid was on her day-off. The blind-tween smelled the pancake batter cooking at the griddle – and also-heard her mother’s voice talking in the living room, on her Huawei talking with someone.

“Samuel, stop feeding Piper – the pancakes are for you, ‘not’ the dog!”

Jane heard her father – Piper went over to ‘greet’ Jane… her father responded…

“Jane, stop touching the dog – he needs a bath – go wash your hands, and eat your pancake…”

“Daddy, can we give Piper a bath today?”

“Later-maybe… we are EXPECTING ‘VISITORS’…”

… Jane HAD TOTALLY FORGOTTEN about her Uncle Jack’s medical staff – who would be arriving at 10 AM, to conduct a blood-test…

While washing her hands, she thought of the ‘visitors’ of the other-Perth – where Hiro and Taro came and took her-blood…then came the questionnaire…

… that invaded her privacy-and-secrets of her altered supe-identity of post-Treeton…

… where she did ‘NOT’ GIVE THEM her honest answers…

… her BFF Alicia was there with her on that day – as the best-friends thought that Uncle Jack was a dishonest-man too – who gave out his technological devices for free, but ‘bind’ the users to his contractual ‘terms-and-conditions.’

Jane sat at the table and ate her pancakes – and was keep amused with the bantering between her father and her baby-brother – who with his limited vocabulary was defying Anthony’s table-rules of feeding the house-dog.

Both Anthony and Jane laughed out – hearing the black-boy arguing with his ‘own’ make-up words to fit his sentences…

… Shelley Wilson walked in…

“Tony, they are moving from their hotel now and will be here shortly. I also called Caroline Walker to give a heads-up for their noon appointment…”

Jane sat quietly as she was processing her thoughts – that her parents were in-talking term, despite the loud-argument they had last night…

… and, the mention of Paul’s mother gave her the urge to call her boyfriend – whom…

… she made a promise to call ‘last’ night – BUT DIDN’T – because…

… she was ‘not’ in the state-of-mind last night to speak with anyone, and rather…

… cry herself to sleep.

“… I hope ‘both’ her delinquent sons ‘would’ cooperate and take the test – or-else, it would a wasted trip from America for Jack’s associates coming over here. I heard that’ one-armed son of her is very disobedient… I heard stories in Facebook that he is out-of-control, even I had an encounter with him on the road and… nearly knocked him down, when he crossed my path with his bicycle – it’s a road hazard, for a one-armed boy to ‘be-even’ cycling on the road...

“… and, that quadriplegic son of the Perth’s inspector is no angel either…”

Jane knew her mother was instigating her B-girl to set off into a table argument that morning – but Jane decided TO ‘NOT’ REACT… it stifled the doctor-mother with her constant-and-running silent-treatment of post-Treeton…

“Tony, when all this blood-testing is over – I’m taking your daughter to the hair-saloon in the afternoon – to cut her-off her dreadful dreadlocks – it is so bloody-awful and ‘not’ appropriate for a school-going girl her age…”

Jane did ‘not’ react to that ‘bullying’ either – maybe she might consider cutting her hair – as the dreadlocks were of PFC…

… Peter’s ‘Perth’s Famous Couple’…

… when Jane was playing tennis with him in the mixed doubles – and was ‘famous-there’… as the blind-girl who promoted her hair-fashion among teen-girls-fans, at the other-Perth…

‘… I’m with Paul ‘now’ – I don’t care about ‘any’ fashion, any-more…’

Shelley Wilson walked around the brekkie family table, circling like a carrion vulture preying on Jane, as she spoke…

“I reckon it was a ‘mistake’ that Jack gave her the talking-tech that… ‘qualified’ her to go to Stamford High – I rather that she had remained in her blind-school, where she would ‘not’ be corrupted by all these testosterone-horny boys… who prey on gullible blind girls…”

… the doctor-mother deliberately elbow-brushed blind-Jane’s dreadlocks – and it triggered her, as she stood up from the table – and pointed her retractable-baton-cane, warning her…

“Mummy! Don’t touch me!”

“Jane!” Anthony shouted…

… but since coming to post-Treeton, and on several occasions – like the Facebook-poke –Shelley had poked her with her finger when she lectured her B-girl – on her arm, cheek and even on top-of-her-head where she used her thumb, for the daughter’s submission…

“Jane!” Anthony called as he caught his daughter ‘eyeballing’ her mother…

“What… you’re going to hit me!!?” Shelley shrieked…

… Jane did ‘not’ reply her – and walked away from the dining table after eating a single pancake, with a glass of milk…

“Jane, come back to the table!” her father demanded…

“You’re going to cut-off your bloody wild-looking hair-style later!” her mother too demanded…

… cutting her hair was the least of her worries – the visitors from the US were…

The annoyed Jane went upstairs.