My brother did strange things with slugs. He'd spend hours and hours in the basement, oscillating between blasting Metallica and The Bee Gees, and then he'd emerge, a look of self-importance crowing his slanted grin.

"What did today's work bring, Noah?" I'd ask, on a now weekly basis.

Today, Noah responded with a wink and an outstretched hand. I leaned towards his wiggling fingers, an apprehensive lump in my throat.

"A...pixie cut?" I asked.

"With bangs," said Noah. "And I even-"

I shoved him harder than I'd meant to. Winter coats padded his fall as he stumbled into the front closet. I shut the door.

"Gen?" Mom entered the room carrying an oversized vase brimming with white and yellow flowers. "You think there's space for this on the table?"

"Oh, for sure!" Between jolting heartbeats I cleared Highlights magazines and used juice boxes. "Here good?"

"Yup!" Mom was careful to bend her knees as she placed the vase. She smiled, nodded and let out a warm sigh. "All good? Having a good Saturday?"

"Yeah! Just coloring."

"Nice."

"Yup."

She knit her eyebrows and tilted her head. I smiled harder. She shrugged, pat me on the head and left the room.

I counted her footsteps. "...7, 8, 9..." I opened the closet. Fuming, I said, "You have GOT to be more careful!"

"I've BEEN careful," whined Noah.

"I can't keep covering for your strange obsession," I said. "Mom found bits of red hair in the back of the car yesterday. I panicked! I told her they were from one of my dolls!"

"They WERE from one of your dolls," said Noah. "I've gotta get my material from somewhere."

*Jaw drop. "My Royal Shimmer Merida Doll?!"

"The one and only!" Noah raised a pair of kiddie scissors. *Snip. Snip. "Besides, it went to a good cause. The wig's reversible."

I quelled the urge to rip the scissors from his hands and snap them in half.

"And while I'm out here admitting things," said Noah. "I used your Dreamtopia Unicorn's mane to make a rainbow mullet. What do you call a slug mullet, anyways? A slullet? Mullug?"

I took a deep breath. "MOM!"

"No!" Noah gripped my shoulders and shook. "You can't tell Mom about this, not yet! She won't understand!"

"MOM! MOM! MOM!"

"Please! Sister! Sister dear! Don't you love me? Think of what this would do to me! Think of all the slug wigs I'd miss out on creating!"

"MOOOOOOM!"

"No! Listen! I'll take the blame for that thing we both know you did! You know, that mysterious tear in Mom's favorite dress?" Noah's head was tilted downward, revealing flecks of menace in his eyes. "Mom still doesn't know how it got there..."

"You wouldn't dare rat on me."

"Now you're listening! Okay how's this - I... I'll tell her that I played, um, tug of war, yes, tug of war with... Fido! Our dog, Fido! And Fido's teeth ripped through mom's New Year's Eve dress."

"We don't have a dog."

"Everything alright, Honey?" with her cellphone balanced between her shoulder and her ear, Mom's calm smile blanketed her children. "Something wrong between you two?"

Eyes blazing bright, I stared at Noah. Would he really take my punishment if it meant continuing on with his strange slug wig obsession? Didn't he know the sentencing would be steep? Could he come up with a lie better than a non-existent dog?

"Noah has...something to tell you...Mom," I said, still watching my little brother. If he left my gaze, his offer might leave as well.

Mom blinked. "Noah?"

Noah returned my gaze with a single nod. "Mom," he said, "Gen's a vandal."