SOMETHING LIGHT by BOOMERCAT RATED FRPT

Life with little brothers.

"Ah, you're crazy. There's no way. Can't be done."

Scott Tracy looked up from his magazine as his two youngest brothers entered the room.

"I'm telling you, Gordon, I read it in a book. I just want to figure out how. I mean, it would be a handy thing to know."

"You believe anything you read, don't you? I swear, you're so gullible."

"I am not. The way this was written, it was like they assumed everybody does it. If it was fake, they would have described it better. Come on, I'll show you."

Gordon looked pityingly on his younger brother. "Alan. Read my lips. There is absolutely no way you can open a locked car door using a coat hanger."

"Yes you can," Scott blurted. "I remember Dad doing it once when Mom locked her keys in the car."

"There, see? I told you so!"

"And you believe him? May I remind you that he convinced you Santa Claus was real? When you were ten years old?"

Both young men turned suspicious eyes on their oldest brother. Scott returned their looks coolly. "If you don't believe me, ask Dad."

"Oh, and isn't it convenient that Dad just left to fly Grandma up to California?"

"Yeah."

Scott shrugged his shoulders and went back to his magazine. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the two youngest Tracy brothers just standing there. It wasn't long before Alan couldn't take it any longer and said, "Okay, Scott. How did Dad use a coat hanger to unlock a car door?"

Scott set aside his magazine and thought back to that long ago day. "Actually, it didn't look all that hard. First you take the coat hanger, and you straighten it out."

"What do you mean 'straighten it out'? How the heck do you straighten out a coat hanger?"

"Well you untwist it first." Scott looked up from where he was demonstrating with his hands. Gordon was skeptical and Alan was just plain confused. "Fellas, back then coat hangers were made of wire, not plastic."

"Oh, come on! Wire? Pull the other one, Scott."

"No, be quiet, Gordon. I want to hear this. Okay, Scott, supposing we buy this 'wire coat hanger' story. I don't care how straight it is, how is a piece of wire going to unlock a door?"

"Well, what you did was you slide the wire through the window gasket. And then-"

"Window gasket? What the hell is a window gasket?" Gordon openly scoffed.

"A window gasket was a strip of neoprene that lined the door. It made a tight seal for the window, and if you want to hear this, just be quiet and listen."

Gordon opened his mouth to say something, but Alan elbowed him and his mouth snapped shut. He rubbed his bruised ribs and shot his brother an injured look. Alan responded with a fierce glare, then turned to Scott. "Okay, so you stick your wire in the window. Then what?"

"Back in those days, the locks were mechanical. There was this button on a long stem that you pushed down to lock the car. You slide the wire in and wiggle it around until it snags the button, pull up, and voila! The door opens!"

Alan looked thoughtful. "You know, I remember visiting a car museum in California. The girl I was with pointed out that button thing, but I didn't know what it was for. It was there in the corner of the car door, right?"

"Right. You press down to lock and pull up to unlock."

"Well that's just plain stupid. If they were so easy to unlock, why lock them in the first place? And wire hangers? Please! Alan, he's selling you a bill of goods."

"I dunno, Gordy. It's so bizarre, it could be true."

"Believe it or don't. It's up to you. But Alan, keep in mind who it was that convinced you Ashley Anne Murphy was sweet on you," Scott said it casually but had to lift the magazine up to his face to cover his smirk.

The misdirection worked as Alan narrowed his eyes at Gordon. In a quiet deadly voice he said, "I made a fool of myself."

"That was an honest mistake, bro," Gordon said piously.

"Uh-huh."

"Wire hangers, huh, Scott?" Gordon attempted a redirect. "Well, I guess you would know, seeing as you lived through the dark ages."

Mercurial as ever, Alan sniggered. "Yeah, the age of dinosaurs, and we have the pictures to prove it!"

Scott chose not to dignify their remarks with a reply, instead studying an ad in his magazine. He could kill Virgil for finding that old photo album with the pictures of him as a toddler curled up in his purple Barney jumper, wearing his purple Barney shoes and hugging his plush purple Barney. The fact of the matter was Virgil had been crazy for Barney too, but the pictures of his fourth birthday party featuring a visit from an actor dressed in a Barney suit had mysteriously disappeared.

His brothers had dissolved into full blown hysterical laughter at this point, and Scott just got up and left the room. As he headed down the hallway for his bedroom, Virgil stuck his head out his door. "What's with the terrible two?"

Scott shook his head. "You know, Virg, I'm only thirty years old. How is it that three minutes with those two and I feel like Methuselah?"

Virgil grinned. "Well, you are rather old, you know."

Scott put his hand on his brother's forehead and pushed him back into his room. He continued to his bedroom, laughter dogging his steps. Closing the door behind him he leaned back against it, and snorted a laugh, shaking his head. There were days when being the oldest brother was the best feeling in the world. Today wasn't one of them.