The Swiss Family RobinZOM by Perrin Briar Page B

said.
    Ernest had his nose
buried in a book, an intense look of concentration on his
face. He was slighter than his older
brother, with narrow shoulders. The lenses of his glasses made his
eyes look tiny. Liz clicked her fingers around Ernest’s ears. He
didn’t respond.
    “ No,” Liz said. “Ernest
can’t do it.”
    “ Do you want me to take
Francis?” Fritz said, gesturing to the eight year-old now building
a house of cards and peering at them with curiosity.
    “ No,” Liz said. “He’s all
right where he is. Take Ernest with you though, if you can peel him
away from his book.”
    Fritz slipped on a bright
yellow raincoat, careful with the hood over his hair.
    “ You just have to know
how to get his attention,” he said.
    He sidled up to Ernest.
    “ Pie is three point one
six,” he said.
    Ernest blinked and looked up
from his book.
    “ You dick!” he said. “I
was just getting to the good bit then!”
    “ Ernest!” Liz said.
“Language!”
    Fritz tilted the book up.
On the cover was written: Advanced Mechanics .
    “ What’s the climax, I
wonder?” Fritz said. “He fixes the engine?”
    Ernest spoke in Latin, a
superior smile on his face. He pushed the
glasses up on his nose. His mother clipped him upside the
ear.
    “ Ow!” Ernest said. “What
was that for?”
    “ Swearing is swearing,”
Liz said, “whether the listener understands it or not.”
    “ You swore at me?” Fritz
said, fist clenching tight.
    “ Enough!” Liz said. “I’m
sending you out to prevent Jack from getting into trouble, and you
two are just as bad!”
    Fritz glared at Ernest, who
poked his tongue out.
    “ Give Jack a clip round
the ear while you’re over there,” Liz said.
    “ With pleasure,” Fritz
said.
    He strapped himself into the winching harness, and used the
hand peddles to lower himself to the ground.
    “ Do I have to go across?”
Ernest said. “Jack’ll never sit still and Fritz is going to get me
back for my Latin remark.”
    “ Perhaps it’ll teach you
not to make such remarks,” Liz said.
    Ernest hung his shoulders
and strapped himself into the winch
harness. He turned back to look at Bill.
    “ Dad?” he
said.
    “ Yeah?” Bill
said.
    “ When do you suppose the
monsoon season will end?”
    “ Any day now, son,” Bill
said. “Why?”
    “ So if one of my darling
brothers is going to have an unfortunate accident and drown, it
ought to happen soon…”
    “ Don’t even joke about
such things!” Liz said.
    “ Who said anyone was
joking?” Ernest said.
    He pumped the peddles
with his arms to the ground. He crossed the open courtyard, somehow
managing to step in every muddy puddle along the way, strapped
himself into the second winch and hand peddled himself up to
Robin’s Nest. At the treehouse’s entrance Fritz was waiting for
Ernest, and kept pushing him back when he reached for the
ledge.
    “ Fritz!” Liz shouted.
“Let him in! I said let him in!”
    The rain thrummed so loud
on the roof she wasn ’t sure if he heard
her or not, but Fritz gave way and helped Ernest into the
treehouse. Once inside, Ernest pulled his arm away from Fritz. Liz
closed the swing doors, blocking the Marx Brothers
scene.
    A puddle of water
coalesced on the floor from where the door had been left
open. Liz picked up a towel and began
mopping it up. She wrung the towel into the sink and hung it up on
a line that ran over their heads. The space was large, mostly made
of wood. Water-damaged family photos of a former life hung on the
walls. Carpets covered every inch of floor.
    “ Those boys,” Liz said.
“They’ll be the death of me, I swear.”
    She collapsed into a chair.
    “ Thanks for all your
help, by the way,” she said to Bill. “It’s important we show them a
unified front, and you were solid as a rock.”
    “ I’m writing my journal,”
Bill said. “I can’t do everything at once.”
    “ They need to learn to
work together,” Liz said. “Not fight all the time.”
    “ What’re you