Justin moved into the main house now that Brian was gone. He didn't like the idea of sleeping in the treehouse without his partner. He helped Claire with dinner Sunday night and sketched a bit and they looked at a few more letters. However, Claire liked to read them in the daytime finding it easier to read the difficult hand of the writer in the light of day.

Sunday passed into Monday and Justin told Claire he was going to walk over to the farm Monday morning to see how the boys were doing. He had promised Brian to keep an eye on them and send progress reports. Justin sincerely hoped it wouldn't be a "lack of progress report" that he would be relaying to Brian.

He wandered into the yard and saw laundry being strung along one of several lines that had been set up between the bunkhouse and the main building. There was a boy pinning shirts to the line. Justin approached him.

"Is it laundry day today?" he asked hoping to strike up a conversation.

"No, this is virtual reality and I'm stuck in Hell," the boy replied with a snarky attitude.

Justin smiled slightly and asked," Is Steve around?"

The boy nodded towards the main building and Justin headed that way. As he opened the door, he could hear raised voices and he was sure he recognized one of them.

"I don't fucking know how to do laundry, and I'm not touching someone else's dirty underwear," John said.

Justin groaned inwardly. This couldn't be good.

"John, you know what the rules are. You are responsible for one load of laundry this morning, and it just happened to be underwear," Steve explained calmly.

"I'm not doing it," John stated.

Justin stood inside the door and listened. He wished he knew a way to fix things for John and Peter but they brought grief on themselves and wouldn't thank him for any interference.

"This is not negotiable. You do your chores or you get no privileges and no food."

"I'm not doing it," John said again.

Justin wondered where Peter was and if he had put John up to this defiance. He stepped into the laundry room. "Excuse me," Justin said. Steve looked up and shrugged. "Could I have a few minutes with John?"

"Sure," Steve replied and went out of the room.

"Do you know how to do laundry?" Justin asked. John shook his head. "If I show you will you try it?"

Justin watched John's face light up. He thought maybe he could teach the boy something and make life better for everyone. It was worth a try.

"You always sort clothes by color and whites," Justin began.

"Why?"

"Whites will absorb color so you don't want to mix them or you might have to wear pink underwear."

"Like you?" John sneered.

Justin wanted to shake the little asshole but he ignored the comment. "Then you set the controls. Hot water." Justin turned the dial.

"Why?"

"Whites can take hot water, colors will fade."

"How the fuck do you know all this shit?" John asked.

"I learned the hard way, by fucking up all my clothes."

"And then you get new ones," John said with a satisfied grin.

"Not if you have to pay for them yourself."

"Doesn't Uncle Brian pay for you?"

"Not usually. I try to pay my own way."

"Then what good is he to you?" John demanded. Justin wasn't about to explain that.

"He's a selfish bastard," John declared. "Mom always says so."

"Brian is not selfish! He does lots of things for many people."

"Like what?"

"Um…" Justin hesitated. He knew Brian wouldn't want his nephews or anyone else to know about his charitable acts. How could he explain about Concerned Citizens for the Truth or the Liberty Ride or Vic Grassi House?

"See, he's a selfish bastard," John said smugly.

"I'm not arguing about this," Justin said. "You add the fabric softener in this ball and then choose the cycle you want. These are considered 'delicates'."

"Delicates," John sneered. "Like you?" he repeated with venom in his voice.

"Push 'start' and wait," Justin said and went to find Steve. He should have known better than to try to help Brian's asshole nephew. All he ever got was aggravation. He found Steve and told him what had happened. Steve didn't seem surprised. He said they had a long way to go with those boys. He and Justin talked about what might be tried with them in the future.

After a few minutes Justin and Steve heard someone hollering somewhere in the building. They bolted up and raced down the hall to find John completely covered in soap suds coming out of the laundry room. He was batting huge wads of bubbles away from himself and coughing and sputtering.

"What have you done?" Justin yelled.

"I … I didn't do anything," John said. "Justin filled the machine."

Justin opened his mouth to deny it, but didn't get the chance. Steve grabbed John by the scruff of the neck and propelled him back into the laundry room. Holding onto the boy he managed to turn off the washer. He fought through the suds finding a mop and pail.

"Start cleaning up this mess. You stay in here until it's fixed to my satisfaction," Steve said doing his best to keep his voice level. He gave John a shove into the suds and walked out of the room. The door closed from the outside and Steve slammed it shut, turned the deadbolt lock and brushed the suds off his clothes.

"I didn't put in too much soap," Justin said lamely.

"I know you didn't," Steve grinned. "Don't think for even a second that John's the first kid to think he can sabotage this place by overloading the washing machine."

Justin studied Steve. He supposed the man had seen just about everything from these kids. "Do you think he will clean it up?" Justin asked.

"Doesn't matter. The suds evaporate eventually, and he'll get sick of standing in a pool of water. And then he gets hungry. It'll get done eventually."

Justin shook his head and smiled. "Do you think I could call you on the phone to get the next report on those two?"

Steve smiled and clapped Justin on the back. "Come back in the office and I'll give you the number."

Justin returned to Claire’s house immediately after getting the phone number for the farm. He couldn’t stand one minute longer being anywhere near the spawn. And he was beginning to think this it was impossible for the boys to change. Trying not to be disappointed and dreading the phone call he’d eventually have to make to Brian, Justin let himself back into the house.

"Back so soon?" Claire said with a sunny expression.

"Yeah, it was laundry day and it was John’s turn at the washing machine. I was trying to help by showing him what to do. But he purposely overloaded the machine then tried to blame it on me. I had to get out of there."

"Justin, it’s only been a few days. These things take time. You’ll see, by the weekend, real progress will have been made."

"Do you really think so?"

"I’ve seen it happen. Now, you ran out of here so quickly that I’m sure you didn’t have a proper breakfast. Let’s have a little something to eat then we can go into town. The Kinney sketches are in remarkable condition but they won’t be for long in those old portfolios. We have a decent art store. I think you can find something to do the sketches justice."

Justin smiled one of his sunny best, pleased that he and Claire were on the same wave length. After their breakfast, Claire and Justin went to town.

It was late in the afternoon when Claire and Justin got back to the house. Claire immediately went to the kitchen to prepare the fixings for dinner. Although both John and Bobby were working, they would be home for dinner. Claire wanted dinner ready for them. This gave Justin the opportunity to transfer the sketches into the new portfolio. He examined each sketch carefully trying to determine if Kinney drew them or could it be a sketch by Martha. Using the magnifying glass that he bought, Justin discovered that Kinney did indeed sign all of his sketches. Neatly in the lower right hand corner was his ‘JABK’ and the date. Martha was a bit creative with her signature. The work of female artists was not always appreciated and for many years they were outcasts in the artistic world. Martha’s signature was hidden in her work. And it often looked similar to her father’s, only a trained eye could decipher the difference. Pleased with his little discovery, Justin set aside the sketches to read more of the letters.

The letters were still slow going but Justin was beginning to understand the script and style of writing as he went along. Many of the letters were boring, Kinney writing to his lawyer, making sure his family was well looked after. The dates indicated that it could take many months for a reply to reach Kinney. One letter took almost a year to reach the artist then several months to get back to Pennsylvania. The letters moved faster when Kinney and Patrick finally settled in Mexico close to the Texas border.

One letter piqued Justin’s curiosity. It intimated that there were many other paintings in existence, not just the ones that Claire had in her home. Kinney had painted many landscapes and the people of South America and Mexico. He had shipped them back to his wife for safe keeping and for Martha, hoping that eventually they would increase in value and become more of a legacy for them.

Noting it was getting late and John would be returning soon. Justin packed up the letters and returned them to the safety of Claire’s room. Joining Claire in the kitchen, Justin said, "Claire, I put the letters back in your room."

"Good, John and Bobby will be home soon. Dinner should be ready within the hour."

"Smells good." Before Justin could elaborate his stomach did. "Claire, the paintings that were hanging in your hall, are they the only ones that you know of or do you have more in storage?"

"I may have one or two up in the attic but that’s all I have. I’ve never seen any others. You have to remember that the main house burned down. Maybe they were lost in the fire."

"When was the fire?"

"I’m not sure. Obviously Kinney had already left the country. And Aidan never mentioned a fire so I assume it must have been around the time that Brian was master of the manse. Why do you ask?"

"I’m not sure; it may be nothing. Your house, the house that you grew up in, is that still standing?"

"Yes. Actually, now that you mention it. My cottage, that’s what we called it because it was rather small, may have been part of the original mansion, or a late addition to it. I believe it was the cook house at one time. It does have the largest kitchen that I’ve ever seen and only two bedrooms. It was later renovated but only two or three people can live there comfortably. I rent it out for extra income."

"Does it have an attic?"

"No."

"Oh." Justin said very disappointedly.

"But it does have a root cellar."

"A root cellar!" Justin exclaimed; his hopes went up a notch.

After dinner Bobby decided to go over to the farm and check on Brian's nephews. Justin had told them what happened with the laundry and that he had no intention of going back to the farm for several days. Bobby said he'd go get a firsthand report that Justin could relay to Brian.

About an hour later he returned chuckling to himself. Everybody wanted to know what was so funny. He told John to get them some beers and he'd tell the story. When they were all seated on the screen porch with their libations, Bobby started his tale.

"It seems that the nephews have been getting into trouble quite regularly. Whatever they are required to do as chores they are trying to sabotage," Bobby explained.

Justin groaned. "I was afraid of that. John tried to sabotage the laundry. What else have they done?"

"Steve had quite a list," Bobby chuckled. "They were supposed to weed the vegetable garden. Steve found them sitting under a tree eating carrots they had just pulled."

"At least the carrots are good for them," Claire observed.

"True," Bobby agreed, "but you haven't heard the best part. When Steve caught them and started reading the riot act, Peter told him that they had seen a rabbit munching on the carrots and had scared it off. They were merely eating what the rabbit had left behind."

"Holy shit!" John reacted. "How stupid do they think Steve is? Nobody would believe that cock and bull story."

"They're city kids," Bobby replied. "To them that probably seemed like a feasible story."

"So what did Steve do to them?" Justin asked.

"That's the good part. He told them that if they finished weeding the garden in the next hour they could eat all the rabbit reject carrots that they could find."

"But why is that funny?" Justin asked.

"They were done in no time," Bobby said. "They ate their fill of carrots which the boys can have anytime they want anyway, and they think they put one over on Steve. He in the meantime got them to cheerfully do their chore."

"That's genius," Justin said with a grin.

"The next part's the best though," Bobby explained. "You should have seen Steve's face when he was telling me."

"What do you mean?" Justin asked.

"He showed the boys how to hand milk the cows," Bobby said.

"Hand milk as opposed to…?" Justin said.

"As opposed to using milking machines," John explained. "Steve likes the boys to do the work manually on the farm. It reconnects them to the earth, to animals, to where they came from."

Justin nodded as Bobby continued. "So Steve demonstrates how to milk. John sits down beside Bossy and Peter was with Flossie."

"Do they all rhyme?" Justin giggled.

"There's also Mossy and Posse," Bobby laughed. "They were getting desperate he added as he spelled the name of the last cow. Anyway, Peter starts pulling the teat. Nothing happens so he pulls harder. Nothing happens so he gives Flossie's teat an almighty yank. She lets out a huge moo and turns her head and butts him off the stool onto the barn floor. Peter is indignant, but Steve tells him that he has to learn to milk a cow before he can go home. Apparently Peter said something about never being able to escape the hellhole of the farm. Flossie mooed again and emptied her digestive system making it splatter all over Peter's shoes and pant legs. John got some milk from Bossy immediately thereafter and promised to show Peter how to do it the following day. Steve sent them both off to do laundry on their shoes and jeans."

"Oh, they'll be shitting themselves," Justin grinned.

"Or bossy and Flossie will do it for them," John laughed.

"Steve says to tell Brian he's charging him for psychiatric fees for Flossie. She has been traumatized and hasn't stopped mooing ever since," Bobby said with a chuckle.

"Oh, now Brian will shit!" Justin responded.

"Poor Flossie," Bobby said. "We went to look at her in the barn. She has this wild look in her eyes and moos pathetically. I really do think she needs counseling."

"Don't we all where John and Peter are concerned," Justin said shaking his head. He hoped Brian wouldn't be too upset with his nephews. Maybe he should get Bobby to talk to him. He could make it a funny story and take Justin off the hook of one of Brian's tirades. With all his twenty years of wisdom Justin decided he'd make that call later.



*****



"Hey."

"Hi."

"What’s wrong or should I take a wild guess."

"Yeah, it’s the spawn. I’m sorry Bri; I don’t think this is working. Matter of fact, I think they're getting worse. It’s a whole waste of time. And they’re taking up space that some really needy child could use. I’m sorry I didn’t try to talk you out of this."

"I’m not. Look, I knew there was a good chance that none of this would work but I, we, had to try. If nothing else, my sister has 2 weeks of quiet. Maybe her mood will improve and she actually will have the time to wash her hair."

"But Brian..."

"No buts, unless it’s your fabulous butt. You and Claire have fun with your little mystery of the sketches. Leave the spawn with Steve and Bill. It’s only been a few days. By the end of the two weeks they’ll either be so hungry or so bored that they’ll beg me to take them home. I can torture the evil bastards all the way there."

"Okay."

"Cheer up Sunshine, it’ll work out. You’ll see. Now where are you and are you naked?"

"Brian!"