The Bertie Mansion

II

Footsteps were heard running on the stairs to the second floor. Then the runner went along the hall, pausing where the steps to the attic should be, and slower steps coming down the hall in his direction. His brother walked through the open doorway.

"Mom says no more screaming unless you want to go without dessert for a week and make the neighbors believe someone's being murdered and dinner is ready," he said. "The Downys are respectable people and don't need to hear your antics."

Jeremy jumped off his bed and flew towards the door. Well, flew was relative when he put the wrong pressure on his knee. "Food, Willy?"

"Yes, food," Will said with a disappointed and annoyed sigh. "You know it's Will. I called a family meeting a year ago, for god's sake, to tell you I prefer to be called Will. It's cooler than William."

Jeremy grabbed his younger brother around the neck and started messing up his hair until it stuck every which way from the ultimate noogie. Will pouted and struggled to escape, but defeat was inevitable. Resistance was futile. Older brothers always won. That was the rule of life.

"C'mon, Willy, you know nicknames a person gives themself never sticks. Willy, well now that's a real nice one," he responded. "That sticks like glue. And not that horrible washable glue stick kind."

"I'm telling Mom!" Will said, still wiggling in his brother's grip. He had just dared to play the Mom Card, the card all younger siblings always had in their back pockets. "She'll get you to stop."

Jeremy grinned. "I hope you noticed it's hard to tell her when I've got you trapped."

"I hope you noticed the walls are thin!" Will declared proudly, taking a deep breath. Before he could release the air in the form of a shout, Jeremy slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound.

"I had hoped," Jeremy said over his brother's muted, enraged shrieks, and while ignoring the tongue trying to disgust him into letting go, "that you had come to the realization that you never tell your enemy your battle plan before executing it, and if you want to use it again, never tell your enemy at all. That way they are mystified at your amazing planning over and over again."

"Mmmph," said Will angrily. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration and he lashed out with his feet. Within a few tries he got a lucky kick to the knee Jeremy had jarred not even five minutes previously.

"Ouch, dude!" Jeremy called after him as his brother ran out of the room, yelling to their mother that a certain someone was being a bully again. He leaned on his doorway while he massaged his knee and prepared to get chewed out.

He entered the bathroom to wash his hand thoroughly of his brother's spit. His hair was a little messy so he ran a wet hand through the spiking strands to delay his trip downstairs a little longer.

Apparently roughhousing was bad, or so he had been told, a lot. But the war was over, times were peaceful, what was the big deal about teasing? he wondered. He exhaled heavily, pushing off the door frame when Jade called upstairs for the second time, a deliberate firmness clear in her tone.

He had gotten a handle on his anger, or at least most of it. He didn't tease his brother to be malicious, it was just the way he was and how he chose to be close. His behavior shouldn't have been a problem anymore. He gripped the sink by its thin sides and hissed through his teeth. Damn the government. He came to the country partially to escape them. If only his mother could see that he'd changed.