GREEN BROCADE by BOOMERCAT RATED FRPT

A tag scene from "Terror In New York City."

"Scott? Can I come in?"

Scott Tracy looked up from his computer at the sound of his younger brother Alan tapping at his door.

"Yeah, come on in."

Alan Tracy came through the door, a serious look on his face. "Scott, we're having a conference. Come on."

"Conference? What about?" Scott stood immediately. His father rarely called impromptu conferences, preferring to discuss the 'family business' at meal times.

"We've got a problem." Alan led the way out the door, but instead of heading for the lounge where their father had the desk he worked at daily, he turned toward the back of the house.

Scott frowned in confusion. "Where are we going?"

Alan continued down the hallway and Scott put a hand on his brother's shoulder to stop him. "Alan, what's going on?"

Alan looked back over his shoulder. "It's a brother conference. Virgil and Gordon are down in the hangar. Now come on."

Scott watched his brother walking away and glanced briefly back to his bedroom. He had been working on a fuel conservation plan that his father had requested. After a moment, he decided it could wait for a while. He knew his brothers would hold the conference with or without his participation, and he preferred to be there. The last conference he missed his brother Gordon had made a motion for a vote to elect Virgil as oldest brother.

Tagging along after his brother, Scott wondered what the 'problem' was. There were no birthdays coming up. As far as he knew no one was sick. No one was showing any sign of romantic problems. Scott sighed. That was a problem in itself as far as he was concerned, but he doubted Alan's love life was the topic. He, at least, had Tin-Tin. Sort of.

Alan pushed through the door into the cavernous hangar area. Virgil and Gordon looked up from the workbench they had been bent over. Scott could see they were cleaning a small combustion engine, probably from one of the many rescue vehicles housed in the hangar.

At the approach of their siblings, the two men stopped what they were doing and waited to see what would transpire. Alan called out, "We're having a brother conference."

Both Virgil and Gordon looked to Scott, much to Alan's annoyance. "We are?"

"Yes, Virgil, we are. I'm calling it, not Scott."

Scott could see Virgil's eye twinkle. "You Alan? Now why would you want to call a conference?"

"Because we have a problem, that's why! Now shut up while I get John on the horn." Alan snapped. To hear him tell it, being the youngest of five brothers was a terrible burden. Scott, and Virgil in particular, didn't see it quite the same way.

Alan connected with Thunderbird Five and after greeting their distant brother, the men settled in to hear what Alan had to say.

"Okay you guys. You know Grandma and Tin-Tin went shopping down in Auckland last week?"

"Yeah. So?" Gordon asked.

"Did you see that material she got? The green shiny stuff?"

Scott fielded this one. "That green shiny stuff is brocade. She gets brocade every year. It's for those bathrobes we get at Christmas."

"Exactly. She gets it to make bathrobes. But I heard her talking to Tin-Tin in the kitchen a while ago and there isn't enough to make us all robes."

"That's fine with me. I never use mine." John piped up.

"Yeah. Why does she make those things anyway? She could buy us robes a lot cheaper, and they'd be softer on the skin too." Gordon's comment brought a momentary quiet to the room.

Virgil looked his younger brother in the eye and said severely. "She makes them because she loves us. And she makes them because she prefers to give handmade gifts. And you better never make a crack like that in her presence. It'd break her heart."

Gordon shook his head. "I wouldn't hurt Grandma for the world, you guys know that. It's just she holes up in her bedroom for days making the darn things, and it wears her out."

"You guys are missing the point! She's not going to make us robes. I heard her tell Tin-Tin she was going to make us all dinner jackets. Matching dinner jackets."

There was a stunned silence as the brothers digested the idea. Finally, in a very quiet voice, Gordon said, "Uh-oh."

John, from the safety of his space station one hundred miles above the earth, started to laugh. To his brothers' consternation, the blond astronaut laughed until tears formed in his eyes. When he finally was able to say anything, all that came out was "Matching dinner jackets! GREEN matching dinner jackets!" Then he went back into paroxysms of laughter.

Scott waited until his brother had quieted down to mere bursts of chuckles. "Alan, you have to have misunderstood. Grandma hasn't tried to dress us alike since you were a baby."

"And even then it didn't work." Virgil shook his head. The proof of that was in one of the family picture albums. Scott shuddered every time he saw the pictures with the matching cowboy outfits.

"I didn't misunderstand. I'm telling you, she's going to make matching dinner jackets. And you know as sure as the sun comes up that if she makes them, Dad'll make us wear them. Probably somewhere very public for maximum humiliation."

The four earthbound brothers wore looks of gloom. In an apparent show of solidarity, John tried to maintain a serious look. Finally Gordon sighed, "At least I look good in green."

"Well I don't! Guys, we have to do something!" Alan, who had been fashion conscious since grade school seemed desperate.

"Like what? Alan, you know what Grandma is like once she's made up her mind." Virgil seemed at a loss.

Scott nodded in agreement. Alan was right. If Grandma made the jackets, their father would see to it that they all wore them to please her. But Virgil was right too. His Grandma could out stubborn a mule and if she decided they needed to look like a sideshow act, then they were going to look like a sideshow act. A picture of a circus teeterboard act popped into his mind.

"I was thinking of something direct. I think we should steal that damn brocade as flush it down the nearest toilet."

"No way! You stay away from the toilets, kiddo, or I'll flush you!" Through some arcane logic on their father's part, Gordon was the family's designated plumber.

"Well then, you come up with something!"

Four sets of eyes turned to the redheaded prankster of the family. Gordon looked around realizing he was on the hot seat. "Well, okay, I will. But I'll have to think about it."

Scott wasn't sure leaving it up to Gordon was a good idea. He was of half a mind to tell them all to forget it, if Grandma wanted to make the dinner jackets then let her make the dinner jackets. But then he envisioned that circus act again and kept his mouth shut.

One thing Scott was sure of. If matching green brocade dinner jackets turned up under the Christmas tree, he would make it his mission to insure that when they made their inevitable debut at some public function, John would be there.

Two weeks later, Scott was relaxing in the lounge playing chess with Gordon while Virgil fiddled on the piano. He had just checkmated his brother when his grandmother came in.

"Oh dear, oh dear. Jeff, something terrible has happened!"

"What happened? What is it, Mother?" Jeff immediately stood and came over to take his mother's hand and direct her to the couch.

"Oh, dear. There's a leak in the roof in my bedroom. I never noticed it before, but that storm last week must have poured half a bucket of water into that storage space at the back of my closet. I noticed an odd smell and it was coming from that storage space."

"Well, the boys can fix that leak for you in no time."

"That's right, Grandma. We haven't much to do today, we'll fix it right now." Scott was quick to offer, and both Virgil and Gordon nodded their agreement.

Grandma smiled a sad smile, "Thank you, boys. I appreciate that."

"Mother, was anything damaged?"

"Yes. A whole bolt of cloth. Absolutely ruined. What wasn't stained is mildewed. I'm afraid I've had to simply throw it out."

Scott managed to keep from looking at Gordon, but he knew in his heart that the bolt of cloth in question was green brocade.

Christmas morning at the Tracy villa was always a mixture of laughter and joy. Joke presents and wonderful gifts were piled around each member of the family. Scott was reading a brochure that had accompanied the gift certificate for a four-hour training flight in an authentic Mitsubishi Zero. The prop plane was over eighty years old but was state of the art in its day. Scott was mesmerized by the thought of actually getting to fly in one. It took him several tries to get the words out. "Thanks, Dad. This is fabulous!"

"You're welcome, Son. I had a feeling you'd like it."

"Like it? It's..." Scott finally just shook his head.

Grandma whispered something to Tin-Tin, who nodded and left the room, only to return carrying four identical packages. "All right, Tin-Tin, pass them around."

Tin-Tin checked the name on each package and handed one to each of the young men. Grandma turned to a monitor that showed John, dressed in pajamas like his brothers, already at work assembling the laser-sighting device that his father had given him. "John, you can open that blue package from me now."

John looked up at his Grandma. Scott had the definite impression that for anyone else, his brother would have put them off, but seeing his Grandma's beaming face, John grinned and started rooting around in the piles of torn paper until he found the package in question.

The brothers ripped away the pretty paper and opened the boxes in unison. When Scott saw what lay within, he knew exactly what his brothers had gotten. He couldn't help it. He started to laugh. He held up his, and each of his brothers held up theirs. Matching red brocade dinner jackets.

Scott's laughter was contagious and within moments all five brothers including Alan were laughing with delight. Gordon got up and pulled Grandma up out of her chair and whirling her around gave her a hug, and kiss and his thanks. He handed her off to Virgil who did the same. Scott was pleased to see Alan just as enthusiastic, and when it was his turn, he held the slight woman tight and whispered in her ear, "Thank you, Grandma. You've made it Christmas."