A Million Versions of Right by Matthew Revert Read Free Book Online

language. Instead he whistled his faith back.
    “I had some initial doubts but now I’m quite sure”, said Hedging. Just picture it my dear: 25 men, all dressed thus,” he waved a hand about his person, “Imposing themselves on the demonstration, chanting something about scrotal sanctity and what have you. All of us proudly exposing the God giving mechanisms they despise so absolutely. We’ll usher those poor children out of the building and give them a demonstration of our own. A demonstration that extols biology’s virtue. No scrotums harmed!”
    Tina gently patted her headstrong husband on the shoulder and whispered, “Yes, dear, this is a valid fight,” so only she could hear.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Alice ascended the stairs with two bowls of steaming areola soup destined for the talk holes of her sense-bereft sons. The bowls slid about the tray in a melodic clatter as her mind fired up into loops of worry. I have to assume that they mean well but the injuries they sustain are so complete. And the frequency in which events of this nature occur is alarming. They’ll be dead before they hit 30. In no way will they be able to father children, not with the mess they’ve made of themselves downstairs. I sense such absolute incompetence. My sons, my strange little boys…
    Alice ’s thoughts eventually trailed off into a realm of barely remembered anecdotes concerning the fluff and puff of her own youth. I was so acutely sensible and yet I had a sense of whimsy that rejected much of what reality had to offer. I recall no feelings of discontent, nor did I find myself in harm’s way, but I had adventures, did I what! I’d arrange any damn thing into arbitrary order, confusing the whole neighbourhood. Referring to me as the plantlick girl; what a nerve! But I sure did love it! Me and my jar of stink worms foraged out of whatever sewer my parents dragged me to that week and didn’t I complain? Like an episode of My Sweet 16! I was that little girl with the voice of drowning elbows, at least that’s how old lady Henrietta described it in those infernal music classes. I was kicked out of the choir for singing in bronze, but that didn’t stop me from forming my own choir. I remember gathering the neighbourhood pariahs and forcing them to open up their stinky yaps and just yell. Boy did we yell at just about anyone. Scared Mr Touchmedoodle half to death and got a right earful from those snooty law enforcers. There was a hefty bounty offered for the first person who managed to kick me plain in the face .
    Alice shook herself until the tangents fell away like dead leeches. Why do we have such a long flight of stairs anyway? We only have a one storey house!
     
    * * * * *
     
    Chip and Allen were tucked into their respective beds, pale and sweaty with fever, each with ice packed around their loins. The woollen blankets hugged at them like over-zealous grandmothers. The curtains were drawn, painting the room dark brown. A rotten playground smell hung about like cobwebs.
    The brothers could hear the clanking tray as Alice approached the door.
    “I bet that’s soup,” moaned Chip.
    “Of course its fucking soup,” replied Allen, “she just told us she was gonna fetch it.”
    “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”
    “What messenger?” yelled Allen, “You’re not delivering a valid message.”
    Alice opened the door violently when she heard the muffled sound of her bickering sons.
    “Will you two cut it out already?” she implored through clenched teeth, rendering her words incoherent.
    Alice sat at the foot of Chip’s bed and stared at her sons, who stared back like terrified lambs. Dedicating one hand to each son, she began to rub their legs lovingly. They both began to purr like perverted kittens, which made Alice cease the motherly act immediately. The purring slowly stopped and calm washed over the darkened room.
    “Have I ever told you boys about the time your father was convinced he’d lost his