ALICIA HAD APOLOGIZED TWICE– but Paul was ranting in displeasure, repeating word afterword he said, for the 3rd time…

… the peeved crippled boy told off…

“How could she be so-so callous, by saying all THESE ‘PRIVATE’ THINGS, to-the outside world! Hey, you were there too, Alicia – why did you LET-HER DO THAT…? What about our ‘truce’ of keeping the ‘secret’ among the 5 of us, after the SeeIn meeting…?

“No-one should know about the CURSED TRIO’S SECRET IDENTITY – ‘not’ our parents, our school or our friends, but-now – here she goes out there… and she vomit-it-all-out to her rello-Uncle Jack for-what… FOR HIS APPROVAL!!?” The peeved crippled boy said.

This 3rd time… the Chinese girl had decided to humour him instead…

… after, she had bike-ridden all the way to Walker’s residence, right after she left the Wilson’s – wanting to give A FACE-TO-FACE’ WARNING’ of heads-up – of the 2 visitors from Washington D.C…

… who would be arriving at Perth on the day-after-tomorrow…

… to-run-some-test, on the Cursed-trio.

“No worries Pauly… her Uncle Jack did ‘not’ believe in one galah-word she said.”

“Ali, how-would you know…? With all these coincidences adding up – there is a possibility of the danger, that we will be be-exposed soon!” He sighed, and Alicia mirrored sighing too.

…Alicia then replied with sarcasm…

“How-so…? Now ‘how’ would a person with a right, LOGICAL AND RATIONAL MIND would believe ‘what’ we tweens had said, which sounds so-ridiculous of flying celestial bright stars, bull-dragons or an evil BlackStar, and-all… huh?

“Pauly, look-there… it is a ‘BUSY’ INTERNET-DRIVEN WORLD out-there, mate – so stop-acting paranoia, when they themselves don’t even believe in any of curses and demons-BS. And, even if someone wrote a novel story, with all this crap smoothly buttered-in… and titled it as – the ‘Curse of Asmodeus’ – would you buy it, Master Paul Walker? No, you wouldn’t, right…?”

Paul was ‘quiet’… as he sponged her-logic. And, he replied with a chuckle…

“I wonder what the next book of that series would be titled – ‘the Wrath of Perth’s famous Asmodeus’?”

They both laughed nervously… as they thought of Peter – who was the cause of every tragic situation that had ‘happened’ so-far in Straya – because of HIS INABILITY TO CONTROL, his negative emotions.

The worried, Paul was back-being serious again, with his string of thoughts...

“… but they’re also bringing in these … 2 guys FROM THE US, TO ‘TEST’ US … the Cursed-Trio – what-if it shows it all, in ‘our’ DNA?”

… Alicia shrugged her shoulders…

“I don’t know-that, Pauly – I never thought that-far ahead of that ‘chapter’ yet – so-I simply-have to wait, I guess… until Friday morning comes… and I’ll too-know-by-then…”

“Will Jane’s mom, Dr Wilson be-there too…? Because they-had PLAN TO TEST AND CHECK on Jane first, yea – and later that afternoon… at my place, over here?” Paul quizzed.

… Alicia assumed…

“Probably, she might ‘not’ go to her clinic this Friday – and would-then follow the 2 ‘doctors’ over here. Would YOUR MOM BE HERE too, Pauly?”

“I too don’t know – my mom doesn’t share her ‘work’ at home to any of us… and that is ‘why’ we are hooked into social media and the TV to get information, OF WHAT ‘POLICE-WORK’ that she had been doing.

… right now, what has been ‘trending’ is the kidnapper, named HAJJI… IS STILL IN PERTH… with his whereabouts unknown.”

“Oh no, that is ‘not’ good news.”

The Chinese girl replied softly… as she thought of Baby Samuel’s recent frightful abduction.

Paul thought, even harder before saying…

“Okayy, let’s NOW FOCUS ON THIS-FRIDAY in my-place – with the 2 Americans… and Jane’s mom and my mom here – I think Jane would ‘not’ come over, and neither would you… because you would stay back at the Wilson’s – to give her emotional supports, right Ali…?”

“Err-yea… I guess that’s ‘how’ my Friday morning would go-like…”

“What if you CAME HERE, AFTER THAT?”

“’…why’ you need me here for later – to be a cheerleader for the Cursed-Twin?”

They both laughed.

“No-Ali… but TO GATHER INFO, for maintaining our ‘secrecy.’ You here… would be best if you can ‘collect’ any Intel, of WHAT IS GOING ON AROUND on Friday at the Wilsons. You can snoop around… and ask innocent questions, like how children-do, ‘but’ don’t be an-annoying ‘Ah-Lian’ yea...?”

They both laughed at their ‘private-joke’… as Alicia had ‘taught’ him some-Singlish…

“Ali, can you do that, for what’s worth and what’s at stake – WHICH IS TO PREVENT Perth’s ‘next disaster,’ ever should go off? Ali, would you come…?”

… Paul pleaded with desperation.

“That is spying, right…?”

She said softly – as she admired Paul, of being a good strategist in the team.

“Sort of…” The cripple-boy responded also… in a low tone.

… Alicia was back to her bubbly-self, as she saluted...

“I can DO THAT – SUPER-SPY Agent Maggie Q, reporting for duty on Friday, Sir – to do her mission-impossible spying mission, in Wilson’s residence, Sir!”

Both the tweens laughed.

Paul then concluded…

“What happens in Perth – should, stay in Perth.”

… they both looked up…

…as…

-O-

… the white Audi pulled up to the porch – Insp Caroline Walker saw at the patio of the presence of the laughing Chinese girl on her bike, on the ramp of an open doorstep… talking to her other son, Paul in his wheelchair.

The inspector-mother was delighted that Paul was having schoolmate friends who visited over, to socialize and study – WHICH WAS HEALTHY – unlike 2 years ago… after both of her sons were handicapped…

… were ‘lonely’ after the tragic accident…

… Paul had once, GAVE UP HIS ‘WILL’ TO LIVE, because he could ‘not’ accept the reality, that he may never walk again – and, that made Poe fragile-emotionally, and he then was shut down to the outside world… and also, building-walls around himself …

… as he refused to talk about it, and who was always ‘crying’ alone…

… it took A LONGER TIME FOR HIM than his other-half, Peter – who snapped out of it, that he lost an arm after a year, rather than Poe, it took longer excepting the ‘truth,’ that he will BE WHEELCHAIR BORNE, for the rest of his crippled life.

… unlike-him, Peter had a purpose to go back to school – that was tennis.

“Bye Paul, we will chat up, later tonight yea?” Alicia said, leaving back. She acknowledged Caroline next, on the way out.

“Bye Insp Walker, I need to get back. My Mummy will ‘find’ for me… if I’m late for tea.”

“Bye-there Alicia, and ride safely. I have got your card, I will pop into your mother’s saloon, someday soon.”

“I-will, thank you… I will let Mummy know.” Alicia responded before biking off. 

… inspector-mother caught her son grinning at the door, before backing his wheelchair. Caroline, in her uniform, closed the door… as she teased Paul…

“You like her, don’t you, Poe?”

The tween blushed and denied. “Come on, Mom – she’s just a friend from school, that’s all.”

“It’s okay-Paul – I like Alicia too… she is so lively and a fun-kind of a person to be with.”

Feeling uncomfortable, so Paul changed the subject.

“Yea-right, the reason for Alicia’s visit just now was to inform that – Jane Wilson’s scientist-uncle WILL BE SENDING 2, some kind of ‘doctors-over – to run some test, this Friday. And, Mom, they would be here that afternoon, to run a test on me and Peter too.”

“Yes, Dr Wilson called and notified me at the station, just now, and I agreed,” Inspector-mother responded.

Paul was stunned that word-of-mouth had travelled ‘faster’… in the non-digital world...

“But I DON’T WANT TO TAKE THAT TEST if it’s okay with you-Mom…?

“I don’t like needles… and I already ‘did’ that blood sample testing before in the hospital, while admitted 2 weeks ago – AND I TESTED FINE. So, I don’t want another bout of that similar ‘procedure.’” Paul fussed.

“What are you hiding…?” The inspector-mother asked.

“What you mean – what I’m hiding…?”

“I have been noticing SOME BEHAVIOURAL CHANGES in you lately, Poe – is Peter ‘threatening’ you, in some way?”

“No, he’s ‘not.’”

Caroline then looked him in the eye and said...

“You had been my ‘only’ obedient son for so long, but you flipped 180… and you went in the middle of the night, out with Peter to the zoo, BEHIND MY BACK. That is totally irresponsible, Poe.

“What if something bad had happened to both of you…? HOW AM I TO ANSWER, while being an Inspector and mother at the ‘same’ time – have you ‘ever’ thought of that…?

“It was a good thing at the zoo, that had a positive outcome… where you-all had rescued the boy, Samuel Wilson – what happens if something HAD GONE ‘WRONG’ because – that criminal, Hajji is a dangerous individual – who could have injured and killed you all, that Sunday.”

Paul was glad – that it was ‘not’ that grim situation upshot – and was also relieved too, that the animal-activist-group, took the rap for the further damage at the zoo, which cleared his name ‘for-now’…

… but…

… resulted…

… he had ‘lost’ his mother’s ‘trust’ in him – and she was cold to both to him and Peter, ever since the zoo incident. While Peter-don’t-care… but Poe felt guilty and was torn in-between – with HIS COVER-UPS and the ‘lies’ which…

… he had-told ‘during’ the police-interrogation to…

… MAINTAIN THE SECRECY – of the Cursed-trio’s identities and their super-abilities…

… with his head bowed, as Paul looked down… when Caroline spoke her heart out. “I understand where Peter is coming from, where he is like-his-father, BUT FOR YOU – DOING all of these wayward acts…?

“… I’ve lost your father… and I DO LOVE HIM… DESPITE we fight a lot – because he was irresponsible to manage our family’s financial expenses… with his gambling addiction…

“… but that Sunday morning… when I got the sudden-wakeup call from the station… that you were at the zoo – I thought you BOTH WERE DEAD TOO, LIKE your father…”

… Paul looked up when her firm voice went shaky – and saw his inspector-mom in tears. He too felt like crying, he rolled his chair over to her, to hug…

“Don’t cry Mom – I’M SO SORRY… I won’t do it again…”

<><> 

‘WHY CAN’T I SLEEP?’

… Paul was full of alert-thoughts all Wednesday night in his bed… with his night-lamp switched on, in his small, neat and tidy…

… windowless room, downstairs.

… it would be dawn of Thursday soon, and he had ‘not’ slept a wink…

… too much of afternoon naps of depression…

… ‘grounded’ at home, in Perth, playing videogames in-between meals of pizzas-in-the-box – whereas, some of his classmates were travelling to Europe for holidays…

But ‘not’ the Walkers…

He was prepared for the final term when school reopened on Monday. He had already ironed his school uniform, although it was 4 more days to go – and also, into his ‘stricter’ new dress-code rules…

… that he should remember to wear his tie ‘always,’ in the next semester although it was uncomfortable with the Aussie-arvo-heat – but to-do so to HIDE HIS CURSED SCAR in his throat, from any-peering eyes.

Actually, he wasn’t worried about school at all – but of the coming of the Friday – tomorrow – where…

… in another 24 hours later, when a couple of American doctors would soon EXPOSE THE IDENTITIES of the Cursed-trio’s superpowers…

… which they merely ‘got’ a fortnight-ago… in that cursed Treeton’s thunderstorm.

… Alicia had Snapchat with him till midnight yesterday, and she told him that his superpowers were a ‘BLESSING’ IF IT WAS USED to help mankind. But that WAS HARD TO DO for ‘him’, with too MANY CONSCIOUS DECISIONS to make.

Another burdened Thursday, to play the role as brother-Peter’s-brother’s keeper, a role he played always of keeping tab, of his twin ‘staying in’ the grid with his behavioural problems – but…

… WHERE IS PETER…?

He had ‘not’ seen him since Tuesday evening… where Peter mocked his new hairstyle…

… Paul had ‘not’ seen him all-Wednesday too, but he HAD SIGNED FOR SOME packages delivered for his twin, downstairs – who had been ‘busy’ shopping online a lot lately as his retail therapy…

… the crippled boy read the labels, one was written ‘John McEnroe’ and by the ‘weight’ of it, he felt they were old magazines, where Peter might have bought in eBay. Along with tennis racquet strings from Amazon. And… a small mysterious brown box with an untitled label – where Paul shook it, and it rattled inside – Paul assumed they were…

… sport-related-supplement ‘tablets.’

Paul left the packages on the sofa, AND HE TEXTED PETER about it – and got ‘no’ respond. At lunch, Paul ordered a pizza, AND HE TEXTED PETER to grab his lunch, and again got no response. He ate ‘his’ 4 slices, and went to his room, to go online and a nap…

… when he woke up 3 hours later – both-the packages on the sofa were ‘gone,’ along with the pizza box… to upstairs.

But Peter…

… left him ‘no’ text reply all-Wednesday.

Another burdened Thursday today, where he was sleepless all-Wednesday night thinking of the Cursed-Trios’ cursed superpowers – that led into a Straya’s national disaster TV-news, in the Great Barrier Reefs in Queensland, where the destructive earthquake from the seabed, perished away many human and marine LIVES –WHICH PETER had ‘caused.’

The air-condition was cold… Paul felt discomfit on sleeping on his bed shirtless, in his urine-soggy adult diapers. He decided waking-up by levitating upright on his bed, and he did it with ease. His eyes caught his reflection on the dressers tall mirror – he looked like a shirtless, big-pot-bellied ‘baby’ in diapers, with dangling lame legs…

… if though he was an infant, ‘lifted’ by some invisible force.

He got naked by ripping off his diapers and disposing of it in the bin. Paul grabbed his shorts and dressed on the fly. He floated to his room door, and peeked outside – it was a quiet-morning…

…with his Mom off to work…

… he grabbed his Pokémon t-shirt, and left his bedroom – as he wanted to check-on with Peter upstairs, and GIVE HIM A HEAD-UP – of 2 doctors from the US… who was coming to give them both, a test check-up-probe tomorrow.

Paul was on the base of the staircase, of the high-ceilinged house that his father had built for them…

… the last time he went upstairs was on Saturday night, but was foiled half-way… by his inspector mother who ‘caught-up’ with him – who then informed him of the abduction of Baby Samuel.

He floated, ethereal on the stairs-up… and he was outside of Peter’s bedroom, and he then opened the door. It was totally opposite from, inside of his own room which was neat and tidy…

… there was clothing spewed on the floor, and empty Pizza boxes and empty coke and Red Bull cans and bottles ‘thrown’ all-over… that ‘missed’ the bin. Peter was sound asleep with tennis magazines, scattered on his bed… with his lappy, logged into Instagram on the screen.

He floated over the floor trash until he was at the foot of his bed. Peter was passed-out, with eyes half-opened and drooling on his pillow. Paul floated closely and saw some PRESCRIPTION-PILLS in plastic bottles, on the dresser with cans of unopened Red Bulls.

He called him softly…

 “Pete…Peter…”

The one-armed boy was sentient, and alert when he realized an ‘intruder’ was in his space, jolted and screamed in fright…

Now, he was crook-mad…

“Jesus-Poe! You almost gave me a damn heart attack! What do you bloody-want…? You already got my runners – there is nothing else for you, to ‘steal’ in here! Now, get lost!”

“Listen, you moron… there will be 2 doctors from the US, who will be coming tomorrow – to ‘check and test’ us both.”

Paul then ‘detailed’ Peter, that Alicia ‘informed’… that Jane had told about the Cursed-trio’s secret identity to her-Uncle Jack…

… who then was sending ‘THIS’ 2 DOCTORS over to Perth...

…Peter was silently processing, the part where Paul suggested that THEY ‘SHOULD NOT’ cooperate and take those tests – as the blood samples might be showing signs of altered DNA…

… but Peter WAS ‘NOT’ LISTENING…

“Gnarly! Yes, this is Janey’s ‘rellie’ Uncle Jack-the-scientist… who HAD PROMISED ME of my very-own AI headset for learning. Maybe those guys from the US are delivering my SIMY tomorrow, isn’t that ‘sick!’” The one-armed twin chuckled…

“Hey Peter, listen here – we should-both ‘NOT’ AGREE TO those ‘lab-tests’ – for the sake of our ‘secrecy,’ okay?”

“I am in-business with Janey’s Uncle Jack – if I’m ‘TRADING OFF’ MY BLOODY-BLOOD sweat and piss samples and what-not… to get my own SIMY for my studies part – so-that… I can fully concentrate on my comeback in tennis when school reopens. So, WHO ARE YOU, to stand in my bloody-way!!?”

Paul sighed-deep. “It’s nothing like that you, drongo!”

Peter cut him off…

 “Yea… you-are jealous Poe, that I got my SIMY… and you have ‘none.’ I had enough of this adult dictating bullshit life, nor I have ‘NO’ TIME NOR patience for delayed gratification to-come!”

Peter said while he bounced off his bed… to land on his feet, and … looked-into the levitating-Paul, in the-eye… glaring…

“Hey, what are you going to do about it? Shock me? Hurt me, Poe!!?” He shouted at Paul…

“Now bloody-get out from my room… and go-play Casper, by floating around in Mom’s room! Go, shoot-through – GET OUT OF HERE this instance, NOW!” Peter chased-him away…

… Paul floated-out outside the bedroom door… controlling his ‘own’ anger. As the door slammed behind him…

-O-

… he remembered Snapchatting with Alicia, last night – where they had discussed the possibilities of another similar Great Barrier Reef situation...

… where, Paul said that he would have to ‘PUT-PETER-DOWN’ – if that grim-history repeated itself…

… Alicia then pleaded NO-TO HIM – and to find ANOTHER ALTERNATIVE WAY… rather than killing off his twin, Peter…

… with-his-given ‘blessed’ superpowers…

<> 

THE ‘GOING-OFF’ ANGRY PETER was feeling hot and stuffy under his collar, after he slammed the door to his twin, Paul. He opened his bedroom window, to let the morning fresh air in…

… a honey-bee buzzed into his bedroom – and was flying around his head. Peter was ‘still’ annoyed with Paul – and he growled...

“I gave you an inch, and you climbed over my bloody-head – you damn puny bug!”

He grabbed his Babolat racquet – and the one-armed tween swatted the bee out of his window. He laughed victoriously.

On that day… half the population of the honey-bee species DROPPED DEAD, all around Perth…

… that ‘proved’ that…

… the CURSE OF ASMODEUS was real-in-this realm...

<><> 

DR SHELLEY WILSON DROVE HER MAZDA SUV down the suburbs. She was returning home from her clinic, that evening – and from-the-stereo… lip-sing easy-listening classic rock, from her era.

… she turned to a lane, to her house – her ‘good’ mood changed… when seeing what was ahead in the road. She sighed…

… and Dr Wilson cursed under her breath, at the SIGHT OF A MEDIA VAN… parked across her house gate.

A young female reporter dropped down her coffee paper-cup on the road… and came running towards the gate, to intercept the slowing-down blue Mazda…

… the annoyed doctor rolled down the power-window, and snapped…

“What did I tell you all the last time, that this zoo incident is an on-going police investigation ‘case,’ and those ‘children’ who were out-there were classified AS ‘MINORS.’ AND which part of my saying this that you don’t ‘understand’ – because, 2 OF THEM ARE my ‘own’ children, so please stop harassing them!!?”

Doctor-mother switched on the remote, of the electric sliding gate – listening to the blonde reporter, who responded…

“Dr Wilson, we ARE ‘NOT’ HERE about your children…. but we want to know about Piper. Did the ‘hero-dog’ runaway?”

The reporter showed her cell phone, with a PHOTO OF THE EMPTY dog cage… Dr Wilson stared at it speechless… while waiting for the gate to slide, fully open.

“And, also… Dr Wilson, Perth’s ANIMAL LOVERS’ GROUPS are campaigning for – the search-and-rescue of Piper – what are your comments of that?”

The gate opened – the Mazda accelerated in…

“NO COMMENTS!”

<><> 

THAT EVENING, PAUL ORDERED KFC ONLINE – for a bucket of chicken for 2… ‘large’ french-fries and coke… but… he wasn’t really hungry… and he went to his room, to go on social media – HOPING TO FIND ALICIA…

… and to talk further about the 2 US doctors coming tomorrow Friday… to run medical-test on the Cursed-twins.

It also MARKED THE FIRST WEEK of the disastrous anniversary of in the Queensland-earthquake world-news – that levelled 20% of its beauty, of Straya’s Great Barrier Reefs, now gone beneath under sea-level…

… CAUSED BY HIS OWN Cursed-twin’s anger and rage, during the dinner-invitation…at Wilson’s residence, ‘last’ last Friday.

… Alicia could ‘not’ be located that evening… in neither the social media platforms that he knew of – and also, she had switched-off her cell-phone…

… Paul got worried – was it what the Snapchat talk about, ‘killing-Peter as the last-option’ – was-THE CAUSE OF IT – of Alicia ‘avoiding’ him?

He was also burdened by thinking of Mom crying, ‘earlier’ that late afternoon, in her police uniform – ‘not’ wanting to lose her sons, like she had lost her husband.

If he killed his twin brother, Peter – HE WOULD GO TO PRISON – leaving Mom all ‘sad and…

… ‘alone’ … in the house their late-father built for them…

… his heavy, heart made his eyelids even heavier, where he had ‘not’ slept a wink, in the previous night…

… and soon Paul drifted into a half-dreamless, deep-sleep – as he snored.

His windowless room glowed, in dim blue. He was soon ‘talking’ in his sleep – of his guilt.

“I’m sorry, Mom… sorry, Mom… but I have to… have ta-do it…”

<><> 

IT WAS NOISY OUTSIDE – so was ‘the’ upstairs, as he stared at the dark-ceiling, with crashing sound of cans thrown on the floor. His stomach was growling, as Paul turned his head, to the digital alarm clock displaying red digits – 9:31 of the time.

‘… was it in the AM or PM…?’

He felt discomfit looking down at his wet shorts, where he had pissed in his shorts, that he had worn. He realized he DID ‘NOT’ CHANGE into his adult diapers. He also became conscious that he had slept through 11+ hours…

… way past dinner… where he had order KFC...

He was still groggy, as he laid wet in his bed, in the semi-dark windowless room, grasped it was getting brighter, from sunlight entering from the seeps of his room door…

... and, it was FRIDAY MORNING…

… the day, the 2 ‘visitors’ from the US, would-be ‘here’… on a job-mission ‘visiting’ later… that afternoon. Paul sighed-deep to ‘the’ thought…

… some more activities were happening outside the door, in the kitchen. He levitated from his bed to the floor… to change into a fresh pair of shorts.

‘… is Mom at home…?’

He did ‘not’ want-to take a chance by floating into the kitchen… he sat on his wheelchair… and rolled to the bedroom door, opening and peeked-outside.

The ‘noisy,’ automatic vacuum cleaner was doing its rounds in the living room, of sucking dust off the carpet under the couch, as it was moving about, as programmed.

It used to be a ‘quiet’ machine, that his father had last-bought – when he was alive, before the ‘accident’ – but Peter spoil it later, by standing on it, like a skateboard.

His stomach was still growling, as he remembered HE ORDERED KFC, in the previous evening… and was looking forward to it for brekkie. But there was an empty bucket of chicken bones… in the kitchen’s garbage bin – and PETER HAD EATEN ‘ALL’ of the dozen fried-chicken pieces.

… Paul saw Peter coming-down the stairs fast, with a full-garbage bag of trash from his room. He was hyperactive and animated, while he was multitasking the house-chores.

The fast-moving, one-armed twin… ‘saw’ his crippled brother on the wheelchair in the kitchen, and he lectured him…

“Hey Poe, Mom had gone to work and will be back here at noon. She left ME IN-CHARGE of the house cleaning. And also, she will be buying takeaways for lunch – so you don’t dare-order any lunch later. WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU LAST NIGHT…? We are in a tight, poor-mans situation here… and yet you order and wasted ‘your’ food. All those balance chooks could have gone-bad to waste… so I ate it-all for supper.”

… Paul did ‘not’ argue back.

He saw his favourite spot in the kitchen, that was the marbled tabletop counter with the sandwich griller’s cord unplugged. On the top surface too was several bottles of cleaning liquid and disinfection sprays. There were a mop-stick and bucket on its side.

… Paul was still hungry and groggy since he woke up. He saw half a pot of coffee, on the coffee-maker by the sink counter, and went over to pour himself a mug.

It was the balance coffee his Mom made daily, that made him-love the beverage too… which he also took a similar preference of Mom’s… which was black and unsweetened.

He sipped his coffee… and observed his one-armed twin was going about his cleaning-up, chores done in haphazard routine. His fast movements were ‘suspicious’ with the pill bottles, that Paul saw – when he went upstairs to his room yesterday...

When Peter entered the kitchen, Paul asked him-again...

“So, you really WANTED TO BE ‘TESTED’ later?”

“Of course, if it ‘benefits’ me… why-not…? It is ‘not’ always, someone is going to gift you, with a million-dollar-tech-toy in exchange, yea!?”

Peeved, Paul replied…

“… it’s ‘not’ always-about ‘you’… how do you know you will bloody-get it? What happens to your ‘disappointments,’ with your assumed-bloody-expectations that are so bloody-shit-high…? Who in the right sane in mind, would give you a million-dollar-tech-toy?”

“It’s because I always ‘THINK’ POSITIVE, POE – and, I don’t need to-fill-up any bloody approval form, with the signature of my twin to-it… to get ‘my-deserved’ privileges around here, okay!!?”

“Whatever… you dilutional drongo!”

The piqued Paul scoffed… and-took his coffee mug, and left the kitchen.

“Don’t spill your damn-coffee on my floor. Yea… you go to your bloody room… and you-stay in there!”

… Paul slammed his room door. He looked at his iPhone and there were no messages from Alicia, and he was anxious when he saw his clock showing the time, 10:01 AM…

… tick-tock...

… the clock was ticking fast, for the arrival of the ‘visitors’ at noon…

-O-

He went online… and ran a search on Google for Jane’s uncle...

…Jack Turner was AN AUSTRALIAN PROTÉGÉ in physics and engineering, who migrated in the 90s to America, with a US citizenship given. He worked in the Pentagon for 10 years, before he went BEING A PRIVATE CONTRACTOR, who served in some major tech-firms, as a robotic engineer scientist…

… he was ‘now’ the head-scientist of Kimura Star… cooperation which he partly owned.

<> 

IT WAS NOON AND PAUL WAS FAMISHED. He rolled out to the kitchen fridge and took an uncut Cheddar, and ate the salted cheese. The house was neat and tidy…

… he-then saw Peter downstairs in the living room, sitting by the window… and looking out at the road…

… patiently waiting for his ‘prezzie.’

… the nonplussed Peter looked at Paul, and he said…

“They are ‘not’ here yet – ‘what’ is taking them so long…?”

Finally, Paul received a BRIEF VOICE-MESSAGE from Alicia… that ‘they’ were leaving the Wilsons … and were heading over. Paul guesstimated their arrival…

… from the time of the message… to be around 15 minutes.

Soon…

… Peter saw his Mom’s Audi at the gate…

… returning home after chasing a dead-end-lead, of the fugitive Hajji, who was still at large in Perth.

Then, came the blue Mazda SUV leading the way for a black Mercedes. 2 short Asian looking-men in lab coats, got off the car. Peter exclaimed in surprise… when he was expecting the Americans to be Caucasians…

“Strewth! Where are ‘they’ Americans? Are those 2 guys Hawaiians…?” Saying as he ran-out…

… Peter then saw Jane’s mother and Alicia… stepping-out of the Mazda’s cabin…

‘What is Chinatown Wong doing here…?’

Both the men-in-white were unloading 6 metal suitcases from the rental-Merc’s trunk. Peter grinned wide…

… ASSUMING HIS ‘SIMY’ was in ‘one’ of those cases.

… Peter went out to greet them… but was tongue-tied, when he saw Dr Wilson approaching – where HE LAST SAW HER, was when Janey argued with her mother, while shopping in the Gucci-store… in some ‘mother-daughter-issues’ – and also…

… at the Wilsons’ dinner invitation, last Friday, WHERE THEIR DOG-ran-away…

… ‘both’ occasions… were ‘not’ good… in his girlfriend’s mother’s book…

… Peter went to the Kimura Star’s 2 technicians… who were lugging the baggage, and offered assistance to carry.

“G’day mate, need a hand…?”

“Thank you, Peter – but we can manage.” Said one of them, to the one-armed boy. The visitors arrived inside the house… and begin to introducing themselves.

The Japanese-Americans were Taro and Hiro… and they were medical-examiners of Kimura Star Corp., and they wore their company’s white lab-coats with company’s logos.

… Alicia followed Insp Walker to the kitchen, where his Mom made iced-tea for the guests. The Chinese girl saw Paul sitting alone at the kitchen counter, and came by to say hi.

“Ali, where were you? You switched off your phone – did you get my countless-messages?” Paul whispered hard to her. The inspector-mother ‘smiled’ at the 2 tweens… before she exited back to the living room, with a tray of iced-tea.

“I had to go offline, Pauly – do you want me to blow my ‘cover?’”

“So, what you got…?”

… Alicia shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing. It was just a routine check-up of Janey – nothing suspicious, or out of the ordinary.”

“What…?”

“They tested her for radiation, and took some blood samples – that’s about it.”

Paul sighed. “What about the questionnaires…?”

Alicia ‘admitted’ that she wasn’t present during the questionnaires… because Baby Samuel was getting noisy and playful with her… and she had to take him outside, to quiet the room.

Paul sighed…

“That’s what the babysitter is there for?”

“Oh, Lola – she was preparing lunch, at the moment,” Alicia responded.

… Paul thought hard a bit, he then asked…

“What about during lunch? What did they talk about?”

“Nothing-out of the ordinary. Lola prepared some tasty authentic Australian cuisine… and the 2 guys were complimenting about it, and they were talking about food mostly.”

“How ABOUT JANE – DID SHE say anything?”

“Nope-she was ‘quiet’ and, after lunch we headed ‘here,’ to your place. But I did send the voice-message to you first, from the dunny there.”

... Paul looked worried and even frustrated – that ALICIA HAD FAILED TO SPY, some ‘valuable’ information back at the Wilsons.

<> 

PETER HUNG OUTSIDE, AND CONTINUED HIS CHORES – he was ‘hardworking’ as he was raking leaves in the lawn, with one-arm… under the blazing afternoon sun.

‘Your lawn looks nicer than ours, Dr Wilson – but AT LEAST I’M DOING ‘something’ about my late father’s one here...’

… he pretended working outside the closed window, as he was eavesdropping the adults’ conversation in the air-conditioned living room, while the 2 Aussie women with… the so-called ‘Americans,’ who were seated, drinking iced-tea and breaking-the-ice…

… they were laughing away, as they spoke of Dr Jack Turner’s past and achievements – who, was also DOCTOR-MOTHER’S BROTHER. His own mother wasn’t into small-talks… and was only grinning away, like a ‘bimbo’...

It been half an hour since the visitors arrived, and Peter was all sweaty outside the house – now, the conversation was about Japanese cars, as Dr Wilson drove a Mazda. The one-armed boy was annoyed with-a-rake in his-hand… of why they have ‘not’ starting-the ‘testing’ yet…

… the perspiring Peter walked into the house, and interrupted the adults…

“… excuse-me… I need to go to the dunny, do I need to piss in a cup?”

… they all looked startled, when he ‘said’ that… and his ‘confused’ mother spoke-up...

“Why do you need to pee in the cup for…? You go pee, as usual in the bowl…”

Peter sighed…

“…err… urine-samples, Mom – like for your ‘narcotics’ division!”

Everyone laughed.

And, Taro spoke out...

“No Peter… we don’t need your urine samples – ‘only’ blood samples will do.”

… Peter rushed to the bathroom downstairs, to relieve himself. Taro stood up, saying…

 “'Someone' is pretty-impatient, I think we should start the test, right away.”

<> 

PETER WASHED HIS HAND, before exiting the common bathroom… and saw Paul – pointing at him… and saying to the visitors.

“Sorry, I don’t like needles and I won’t be doing the blood-test bit – you test it-on Peter here, and WHATEVER DEFECTS YOU find on him, you can find it on me too… because we both are twins, is it okay, Mr Taro? Mom…?”

Both the Americans and his Mom agreed… to the crippled tween’s consent.

… at that same time, Dr Wilson had received an urgent phone call from her clinic, and had to excuse herself – and told everyone that she will be back in an hour. With his girlfriend’s mom gone, Peter was back to his ‘usual-self’ – where he does ‘not’ have to pretend nor impress anyone, to be noticed. And, he worked his-charm.

He looked at Paul in his wheelchair… and mocked with a voice mimic…

“I-don’t-like-needles… you bogan…”

He sat at the kitchen table… with the medical technician Hiro, who had his ‘kit’ displayed, and would do a withdrawal of his blood.

“See Mom, here is how me-and-Poe differ – I would want to be a blood-donner someday, and to save lives.”

Inspector-mother replied. “Oh really, but you were the one who screamed louder than Poe when you had your flu jabs.” Everyone laughed.

… Peter wanted to prove her wrong.

“Bring it on Hiro-San – my blood has more ‘value’… because it is the healthy-blood of the other half of ‘Perth’s famous couple’ – and it should be reserved for desperate and special cases only, for any recipient who deserved it more – it is full of vitamin D too, because it is the blood of a tennis champ, who practised diligently in the sun, like a tennis version of Rocky.”

Hiro found a vein and jabbed.

“YEOUCCHH!!!” Peter jumped in his seat.

“That is deep – Hiro-San did you just skewer through my vein like a kebab because it hurts like a mother…”

“Sorry,” Hiro responded, with a smile.

… Peter relaxed, as he saw his blood flowing through the tube into a vial.

“Look here, Mom, this is pure, full-blooded Irish-red – just like yours.” Peter grinned.

“Yes-Peter, but it is tainted… with some English blood of your Daddy.”

… Peter's face changed redder, and he bit his tongue, ‘not’ resorting to retaliation, with an open ‘comeback’ – when his mother HAD JUST INSULTED his late father – with a racial slur, with her police-woman superiority-ego.

‘... hey, I’m better than you!’ The voice shouted in his head.

‘Where were you, Mom – where-was your police call-of-duty… when Jaheem was abducted? You were snoring in your bed, while I was out there at the zoo – solving your abduction case for you!’

-O-

While he was grounded for a week in his room… Peter did lots of things-online which included binge-watching YouTube TV videos and trailers for his ‘escapism.’ One trailer struck him, when it was titled as ‘Policewoman 1977 – TV series’

‘How evolved were the policewomen back then…?’

Peter was shocked to a hoot – where some blond of-1977-actress, by the name of Angie Dickinson, who was dicking detective undercover-job, posing as a sexy model. The humoured, Peter then concluded…

‘Nah, policewomen have ‘not’ evolved that much – there is still some bimbo-ness in them.’

-O-

Peter’s eyes were fixated by the flow of his blood, that filled up the vial. He had rumination of another YouTube video that he saw…

… it was the story of Angela Jolie – whose other-husband back then, by the bogan-name of Billy Bob, had put his blood in a small vial, and gave to ‘Angie’ as a necklet – and she wore it – to express her love for Billy Bob…

And, they both claimed to be ‘soul-mates.’

What if he MADE ONE FOR Janey – to wear so that she would express HER LOVE FOR HIM – it would also MAKE A PERFECT MARKETING-TOOL, for the ‘Perth’s famous couple.’

Peter said out. “Hiro-San, can I have a sample of my own blood for my ‘souvenir’ collection?”

… the surprised Hiro looked up… at the standing inspector-mother, who then voiced out…

“No, you may not! What are you, SOME KIND OF PSYCHO, who keeps blood as a collection?”

‘Mediocre!’

The Immortan-Joe in Peter grovelled back in his head. With all of these adult‘s barricades imposed in real life, now…

… he had to COME UP WITH PLAN-B, via online…

-O-

… for some-half hour… the 2 Americans in white-lab coats were running some in-house blood test…

… the worried-Paul noticed they-both – who ‘looked’ puzzled… and Taro told his colleague Hiro to ‘reconfirm’ on some ‘abnormalities’ …

… very-soon… they were whispering in Japanese…

… Peter intervened and asked…

“What is it Taro-san… some quality issues…?”

Taro then though-out-aloud…

“… it seems you have a rare blood-type of AB-negative… it is a miracle blood – so-rare that its knowns AS THE GOLDEN BLOOD… very few people have it… maybe less than 50 people in the whole wide world have it…”

“BEAUTY!” Peter punched-up, his only-fist in the air.

“Nonsense! It can’t be possible – I would-have known it… the hospital you were born would have told-me…” Caroline dismissed...

“Come-on Mom… just accept it… I’M SPECIAL!” Peter mocked…

… Paul-then cut-in…

“… yea…Mom is right! I have B-type blood and I got to know it when ‘we’ were both involved in Dad’s car-crash… even Mom… remember, even you donated your O-Type blood for us…?”

“Shut-up, short-legs! NO-ONE BLOODY asked your big-brain opinion!”

… Alicia who was beside Paul… pinched his arm, so that he would ‘not’ argue with his egoistic-twin.

The still-puzzled Taro next confirmed…

“… err… I’m no expert in Haematology… so… I will take Peter’s blood sample to D.C. and run tests over there – before it is determined whether it’s the Golden-Blood Type or ‘not’…”

<> 

… NEXT CAME THE QUESTIONNAIRE which Dr Jack Turner had devised a list… to test the members of the Cursed-trio. Taro was conducting this test, at the IKEA dinner table with both the twins seated opposite…

Paul could ‘not’ sit-out from participating…

… based on his-twin who would blabber’ about THEIR ‘SECRET IDENTITY’ on the superheroes of the Cursed-trio, once he started bragging in his tell-tales…

“Do you take DANGEROUS DRUGS?”

Looking at his mother standing, Peter answered…

“Excuse me Taro-San, I’m an athlete – and I SAY NO TO drugs.”

…Paul saw Peter was lying-through-his-teeth… when he had personally seen some kind of perk-up prescription pill bottles when he went to Peter’s bedroom yesterday.

“How about you, Paul?” Taro asked.

… Paul looked firm into the medical technician’s eyes, and replied flatly…

“No.”

Taro saw some anomalies among the ‘trio’ – especially, in Jane Wilson’s answer, which differed from what she had told to her uncle in Skype:

“No, but I take painkillers… given by Mummy, for my migraine.”

-O-

Then came the next question...

“Can the both of you, see yourself glow?”

Again, Paul flatly said. “No.”

And-again, Taro saw irregularities in the ‘answers’ that Jane gave to him and with the ones, she ‘gave’ to her uncle, a couple of days ago:

“I’m a blind-girl… and I don’t know colours – and let alone, to ‘see’ it glow.”

-O-

After Paul, then came Peter’s turn – and, he ‘too’ answered…

“No.”

Inspector-mother intercepted… and she ‘interrogated’ her one-armed son again.

“Hold-up here – but a fortnight ago, at the hospital you-Peter – you said that POE WAS GLOWING in blue, and Jane in-yellow?”

… Paul saw across the kitchen table at Alicia, who stood alone behind the marble-top counter. She too was there at the hospital, WHEN HE SAID-that too.

Paul and Alicia waited for Peter to speak...

… Peter answered his mother. “That was that lightning-strike, Mom – it kind of screwed with my eyesight… and I saw those 2 were glowing. But the effect wore-off, 3 days later.”

And, Peter denied the 3rd time, with excuses in the-questionnaire.

It favoured the secrecy of the Cursed-trio… Paul was satisfied with Peter’s lie…

-O-

“Can either of you, shoot electric sparks, from your fingertips?”

… Peter chuckled and snapped his finger. “I wish I could.”

… he then looked at Paul – and said…

“Take it away, Sparky.”

… Paul was quiet, looking at the table’s surface. Taro spoke up…

“Paul, how about you – can you snap-your fingers for us.”

The crippled-boy sighed… and he SNAPPED HIS FINGERS… and it did ‘not’ spark.

… Peter was amazed. ‘How did he do and control that…? He used to shock and hurt me with it.’

“And, the final question – can you both fly?”

… Peter and Paul looked at each other, and both then laughed aloud – it triggered laughter, in everyone present.

“If Poe can fly – he’s Big Bird!” Peter soon laughed out hysterically, like a hyena.

Hiro next took polaroid photos of the twins’ scars.

… Paul exposed his throat, where his scar was. While Peter removed his single glove, that hid his scar in his right palm.

… Taro compared the twins’ scar-photos with Jane’s ‘diamond’ shape, which was similar to Paul’s – but he observed the Lichtenberg-figure of Peter’s… was more oval-shaped, like an open-eye.

“Okay, we are done,” Taro concluded the tests, on the Cursed-twin.

Alicia received a call, and rushed out to the front door…

… Dr Wilson had ordered dim sums for them earlier, from Alicia’s aunt’s restaurant in Chinatown – and it was delivered by a-Deliveroo food-delivery driver.

Peter cleared his throat and said… pointed at the several metal luggage of medical equipment, sitting on the floor.

“Okay G’day gentlemen, where is my prize for participation…? WHERE IS MY SIMY at? Which one of the boxes is that in?”

… Hiro and Taro looked at themselves, totally surprised. Inspector-mother spoke up, in that awkward situation…

“Peter, you DON’T DEMAND something, just like that!”

“Shush Mom. This is THE DEAL, THAT I MADE to Janey’s uncle that – I get my ‘own’ SIMY IF I DO THIS TEST.”

…Taro then answered. “Did you mean the headset learning device…? But it is now ‘still’ in development stage… and Kimura Star will market it soon early-next year…”

… Peter sighed… and looked disappointed at the visitors.

… Hiro then spoke up…

“But Peter, we got YOU A SURPRISE something – far ‘better’ than that…”

Both the Japanese-Americans smiled at him. Peter groaned softly…

“What could be more important than studies?” He said.

…Hiro opened a rectangular metal case – and took out a BLACK PROSTHETICS ARM. Peter was quiet, and was totally unimpressed – as…

… he had a similar-one collecting dust… junked-boxed-and-forgotten in the garage storage…

But this arm was different, with wires dangling from it.

They requested Peter to remove his damp, sweaty t-shirt. Peter stood bare-bodied while Hiro attached the fake arm to his stump, while Taro was strapping the belt-buckle, to secure the ‘device’ to his body…

… which was a clenched fisted fake-arm…

… Paul noticed Taro had ATTACHED 3 ELECTRODES, of the dangling wires to stick on Peter’s both temples and forehead. Peter the passive participant, who then said…

“What does it do?”

“You’ll see.” The smiling Taro responded.

… Hiro pressed a concealed panel in the black arm. And, a POP-UP BOX opened up – Hiro switched a button in it…

“… Kewl… it’s like Iron-man…”

… Peter then FELT SOME VIBRATION in his temples, and everyone HEARD A WHIRLING sound, from the arm.

“Whoa-crikey… what is that…?”

“Peter, can you focus with your mind – and try to move your ‘fingers.’ Taro instructed.

… Everyone including inspector-mother and Paul… looked at Peter’s face grimacing hard, and failed...

“I can’t.”

… Hiro did some adjustment on a small dial on the arm, saying…

“Go-easy, PETER – DON’T force yourself.”

Everyone saw Peter… on his 2ND-ATTEMPT – AND-VOILA – PETER managed to open ‘his’ clenched ‘fist’…

… and move his ‘fingers.’

“DARDY-COOL! I DID IT!!!”

… He laughed aloud – and everyone was excited to see it, EXCEPT FOR PAUL. Seeing his Mom hugged him…

… Peter stood up, and moved his arm, he looked at his mother and Paul saying…

“I’m getting the hang of it, Mom – Poe, don’t I look like Bucky of Capt. America’s Winter Soldier?”

Taro looked at Insp Caroline Walker and informed...

“We based the arm’s concept with PAUL’S DRAWINGS SENT-TO US… DR TURNER then had developed the ‘arm,’ just for Peter…”

… Paul spoke up, from his wheelchair…

“HOW ABOUT ME – can I walk again?”

“… but-yours is more complicated… as ‘yours’ are spinal injuries related. It may take time to develop the technology in the future... just be patient, Paul.”

…. Peter OVERHEARD TARO consoling his twin… and he mockingly interrupted…

“In the meantime, Taro-San, you can build a sand-box, that hovers like a drone for him – Poe likes to fly it like it is the Fantastic-4 car of his Cursed-trio.”

…with a sarcastic smirk… Peter winked at his twin…

“Let’s eat, everyone.”

The cheery Alicia said… displaying 4 plates of various dim sums, on the dining table.

“Peter, give us an eating demonstration, by using your arm – using chopsticks!” Said Alicia.

“Oh-boy, crikey, this is going to be tricky.”

Peter said as he split-cracked a pair of disposable wooden chopsticks… and he attempted to hold a dumpling with the sticks. His Mom and even Alicia… were videoing his attempt, on their cell phones.

… Peter picked-up… and ate the dumpling, without dropping it… and everyone cheered in delight, EXCEPT FOR PAUL…

… Taro then dropped the ‘bomb’…

“Peter, this arm-set is just the demo-trial version. We have to take it back to the US… to ‘calibrate’ it more for precision.”

“What? NOooo! You’re TAKING IT BACK? WHY…?” The one-armed boy protested.

… Hiro answered him. “It is part of steel and plastic. We are working on a lighter titanium model…”

“I’m good WITH THIS! I WANT it NOWW…!”

… Taro pointed and explained. “Look at it – it has all these wires exposed… and we will need to modify it so that, you only NEED ‘ONLY’ AN EAR-PIECE to control your brain impulse, so to control the arm. We will make a PERFECT ARM FOR YOU – IN 3 MONTHS, from now.”

Peter mumbled in a sad voice.

“3 more months to wait? That would be the end of the final term in school. Now, I’m back to square-one – a complete zero…”

“Be patient, Peter.”

Everyone then feasted on the dim sums, EXCEPT FOR PAUL – he can’t eat ‘proper’ with chopsticks …

… while Peter was taking ‘glamour’ selfies with his new arm.

Taro looked at his watch…

 “It is time to go.”

Peter cried out…

“No, wait! Please give me 5 more minutes – I want to take SELFIES WITH MY TENNIS RACQUET. It is in my room-upstairs, I won’t be long.”

“Okay Peter, don’t be long – we have a flight to catch.”

Everyone at the kitchen table saw the bare-bodied Peter rushing upstairs… with his new attached arm…

-O-

… Alicia wondered what TERMS-AND-CONDITIONS would Peter would be binding-into, with Kimura Star Corp., in 3 months-time – who would be just like her BFF Janey…

… was with her SIMY and Boyyo. SHE DOESN’T TRUST Janey’s Uncle Jack Turner – who gave out his tech for ‘free,’ but…

… ‘somehow’ manipulated, and controlled the recipient-user later.

-O-

In his bedroom, upstairs – Peter was busy taking many selfies with his tennis racquet… with multiple poses.

Peter too MADE A VIDEO… where he pointed his Babolat to the camera, held with his robotic arm…

… and make his solemn declaration that he was MAKING A COMEBACK soon, to compete in ‘the game’…

… and, swore to be the top tennis player of AUSTRALIA – AND IN THE BEST in world… soon.