The Seed Part 4

IV. Talk To Me

The Talky-Box buzzed on top of the desk, as if it were alive. "Yeah?", O'Hare said.

"Sir, the kid just woke up."

"Wonderful   You know where to bring him." Then hung up and called for his henchman, Callahan. He wanted to make sure everything was setup just the way he wanted. He was ecstatic to find that everything had been arranged according to his demands. "Well then, let's go greet our guest, shall we?", O'Hare said as he walked out of his office.

In another part of the third floor, Ted was being escorted down the hall by the one named, Caldwell. The henchman's hand was as strong as iron, as it clasped onto his arm. The boy demanded to know where he was being taken. "You'll see.", was the answer he received.

They made their way down the hallway, then came to a stop. Caldwell pressed a small button on the wall, and a portion of the wall slid back creating a hidden entranceway. Caldwell gave Ted a not so gentle push, shoving him into the now visible room, his massive frame blocking the opening. Slowly, the hulk-like shape began to vanish as the panel slid shut. All of the sudden, the room was filled with a dull, white light. Thankfully for him, it wasn't as bright as the ones outside. From across the room came a figure. His arms outstretched in friendship. It was O'Hare, with a bright smile on his face as he approached him. He welcomed Ted as someone would a long lost relative. Placing his hands against his arms, he asked how he was doing. This new attitude puzzled Ted. If he didn't know any better, he'd say O'Hare was up to something. At that moment, the short business man said something that stunned him. He actually was apologizing for the mistreatment of him. That he had no intension of causing him any harm. Ted wasn't sure he could believe this. Thee Aloysius O'Hare, was admitting a fault? Maybe the people in Thneedville were right. That the once most powerful man in town had finally went crazy.

Before Ted could say anything, his host continued. It seemed that he had seeing the error of his ways. Being down in a metal walled hell-hole such as this, had given him time to think. To ponder on  all his past mistakes. He was ready to make a difference,  for the good this time. But, most importantly of all, he wanted a friend. He felt that such a person as Ted Wiggins would be the perfect choice. He'd never meant anyone quite like him. He had courage and compassion. Such traits were truly hard to come by these days. He told him how lonely it was. That all he had were his henchmen and guards, but not a real person to talk to. He saw Ted as that person. One he could trust, speak freely to. Most importantly, someone that wouldn't call him Evil Moe behind his back.

"You want me to be your friend?", Ted asked dumbfounded.

"Exactly  Whatta say Ted? Ready to bury the hatchet? Let bygones be bygones, and all that?"

Ted looked his host over. Something wasn't right here. The last time they met, O'Hare had threatened him. Not the most friendly thing to do, especially for a first impression. Though according to O'Hare, all that was water under the bridge. His only wished now was for them to become bests buds. Without another word, he took Ted over to a table. Upon it were all kinds of goodies. Everything from candy, video games and comic books. Anything and everything a kid his age would like laid before him.

"It's all for you, friend.", O'Hare spoke with a cheer disposition.

However, Ted wasn't impressed. Did O'Hare really think he was that dumb? Anyone in the world could see what he was up to. Though he still wanted to know why. So, he decided to go along with it for awhile.

"Your serious, aren't you?", Ted asked.

"More then I've ever been Ted. I've learned about myself. I know I've done bad things. I've polluted the air, dumped hazardous chemicals into the water, made kids glow and sold air to people. All that just to make a buck. But, I was wrong  I've seen the error of my ways. I just want you and I to become friends. So, can you forgive me?", he said using the best, most charming smile he could muster.

Ted sighed, "Fine, what do you want?"

O'Hare literally jumped for joy. He ran up and embrace the young man. Trying his best to whip up some fake tears. "Thank you my boy.", he sniffed. "I really don't deserve someone like you."

"Ya, ya, ya. So, what is it you want?"

"A seed, that's what I need. A Truffula Seed to be exact. One that I can plant, water, nurture and love. You had one once. Surly someone as intelligent and brave as you would know where to find another."

"So, your telling me that after all this time of selling air. Something everyone could've got for free, and basically becoming drunk with power. Your ready to turn over a new leaf?"

"Exactly my boy  So, do you know were I might find one of those seeds?"

Ted shook his head. There was no way he could believe this. Sure The Once-Ler had been like him, but his conscious had pushed him back into the light. But, someone like O'Hare? To just change his ways, and in such a short period of time? It was like a cow milking itself, it couldn't be done. And, he told him that, right to his face. He didn't believe him and he sure wasn't going to help him. He knew how much he hated trees and everything they stood for. He wasn't going to allow the same thing that happened so long ago to be repeated.

O'Hare hung his head and sighed. "I guess that means your not going to be my friend then."

"Duh ", Ted said sarcastically.

O'Hare was most disappointed. He thought for sure Ted would fall for it. I guess he wasn't as smart as he had hoped. He could've made him a partner, make him and his family millionaires. Sadly, it was all for not. And, he was so hoping they could be good friends. So, with a snap of his fingers he called for his henchman. The burly, mountain of a man grabbed hold of Ted arms. The boy cried out, demanding to be let go.

"Put him in the chair ", O'Hare snarled.
The muscular thug did as instructed. Lifting Ted off the ground like he was a toy, and planted him onto a chair.  The construction of this piece of furniture was made out of highly durable, tempered alloy. Much stronger then regular steel. The back, seat and foot rest were all installed with a black, leather padding. Before Ted knew it, their came a sharp, snap and clamping sound as both his wrists and ankles were secured by steel shackles. Ted tried desperately to get free, but it was no use.

'Why is it that all you kids have no respect for authority?', O'Hare mumbled to himself.

Ted demanded that O'Hare release him.

O'Hare just chuckled, asking him if he was comfy, which he most certainly was not. "Now I can't do that Ted. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself."

"What are you talking about?", Ted said as he tried again to get free himself.

"I gave you a chance to be friends, but you turned it down. So now, instead of trying to win you over. I'm going to simply ask you. Where can I find a Truffula Seed  ?", He said right in his face.

"You know guy. I might not be in the right position to say this. But, you really need a breath mint, dude."

That was all O'Hare could take from his captive. He began jumping up and down, shaking his fists at the boy. Demanding that he answer his question. Which Ted responded in the resounding negative.

For a moment it looked like O'Hare was going to have a cardiac arrest  His face was already a bright red and his eyes burned with hell fire. Yet, as quickly as the bitter reaction came it changed. A wicked smile replaced the snarling scowl. This new look bothered Ted. Perhaps the people in Thneedville had been right. That Mr. O'Hare had gone completely insane. When the stubby, white suited man looked up at him. He could tell the wheels in his head were turning, and producing nothing but evil, corrupt intentions.

"So, there's nothing that's going to change your mind then?"

"I said no, shorty ", Ted exclaimed.

"Oh  I was so hoping you'd say that  You must think I'm awfully stupid, kid  Did you really think I was just going to let you go without getting an answer? Well my friend, I happened to have a little insurance plan of my own, just for such an occasion. I'd like you to meet a well known associate of mine, Sternstein  He's great at making people open their mouths "

"He's a dentist?", Ted asked.

O'Hare laughed at Ted's response. "No, he's not a dentist. He's someone far, far worse  ", O'Hare spoke with a sinister smile. Grabbing his Talky-Box, he called for the one named,  Sternstein to be sent in.


While he wanted he kept staring at Ted. That menacing smile of his growing wider and wider. Ted did his best to ignore him. He was more interested about this other guy. He thought about the name, Sternstein, who would have a name like that? It sounded so awkward, but defiantly someone that would work for the fiendish, little man. Ted looked down at O'Hare. That sickening grin was still their, and his eyes shined with malevolence.

At that moment, the sound of the secret door sliding open could be heard. From the opening stood a tall, slender shadow. It moved forward revealing the image of a very tall man with short, light, grey hair. His eyes were a dark shade of blue, mixed with some green. They seemed to stare out with the look of someone only interested in knowledge. Whatever conscious it hide was buried deep. His face was quite slim and his cheek bones seemed to stick out. By the look of him, you'd think he was zombie, for his skin had a palish tint to it. As he walked into the room. Ted could tell he was a man of great elegance, possibly of royal blood. His garments were very impressive. Not the type of thing you'd see on such a person. By his features one would think he would be wearing a suit much like the one that runs a funeral home. Surprisingly enough, there was not one shred of black on him. About the only thing that came close was the greyish blue tie. His jacket was a dark navy, which match his pants. Underneath that we had on a light blue shirt with a dark blue, checkered vest. About the only other color one his person was a single, red flower that was attached to the front collar of his jacket.

O'Hare came forward, shaking the man's pale, slender hand. "Ah, Mr. Sternstein, how nice to meet you."

The man said nothing as he walked in front of where Ted sat. "Is this the subject?", he said in a bold, English accent.

O'Hare nodded, "That's him "

Without another word, Sternstein walked over to a group of tables against the far wall. He placed the heavy, metallic case he had brought with him on top of it. "I trust you brought the necessary items I will require?", he asked.

"Everything you asked for is right here, my good man.", O'Hare said gesturing towards the set of tables.

"Splendid.", he said coldly. "And the files on the subject?"

O'Hare motioned to a small laptop laying on the table. Sternstein flipped open the computer and glanced at the information before him. Reading through the entire file as if it were some complicated insurance form. Making mental notes as he scanned the information thoroughly.

He read the name: Theodore (Ted) Wiggins.  He asked the young man which name he preferred.

He had no idea why he would ask such a question. "Ted, I guess.", was the boy's answer.

"Very well.", then he went back, looking over the rest of the information O'Hare had on him.

According to the records, Ted was fourteen years old. He weighed around one hundred and twelve pounds. His height was four feet and three inches. Both hair and eyes were brown. No birth defects, which was good. No noticeable deformities, which was excellent. Better still. His health was superb for his age. Everything he had read looked remarkably splendid, if only to him. Once he had finished reading the boy's file he walked back to him. "Now my boy. Were going to play a game, much like 'Twenty Questions'"

'Oh man  I hate that game ", Ted thought.

He went on to explain the rules to Ted. Basically, he would ask the questions and Ted would answer them. Though there really was only one question. One that had been asked by Mr. O'Hare earlier. The location of a Truffula Seed. Ted's response was nothing but silence. This didn't seem to phase the tall man one bit. Apparently he was use to this type of response. Again he asked Ted the same question, and once more he said nothing. Not a single word came from his mouth. About the only thing Sternstein did was give his shoulders a slight shrug.

"Very well. You have chosen to remain silent and I admire your courage, my boy. However, I'm afraid I must make you clarify the information Mr. O'Hare seeks." With that he turned away from Ted, moving back towards the table that contained his briefcase.

"Waitaminute, are you saying your going to torture me ?", Ted asked with a little stutter in his voice.

The tall man turned to him, telling Ted he didn't object to that word. Though he did prefer the term, 'Information Extraction'. Ted gave a faint smile as he stared at the tall man.

Sternstein removed his jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on the table, next to his briefcase.

The briefcase Sternstein had brought was unlike anything anyone in the room had seen. It was heavier then most of it's kind, and the lock was different then any other locking mechanism. Their was no keyhole or number pad on the front, only two circular disks on the top. These strange disks held within them a miniature fingerprint scanner. This particular one was programmed to open by using the owners fingerprints and no others. Sternstein pressed both thumbs against the red lighted glass. Their was a beeping sound as the disks rotated to the right, unlocking the case. Upon opening the case, several small sections popped out, revealing several pouches full of all kinds of instruments. The top part held several buttons built into it. Sternstein pressed two of them and a section of the back flipped over displaying a small computer screen. Another portion of the back slid out like a CD drive. Inside was a mini keyboard. Without saying a word, the tall man began typing in some information.

"So, what are you doing?", O'Hare asked with extreme excitement. He'd never seen the infamous Sternstein at work, though he'd heard plenty about him.

He explained to the overenthusiastic little man. That he was merely entering the files on Ted Wiggins into his own system. By doing so, the computer would examine the information and come up with the right technique to use on the said subject. O'Hare was astounded by this. That's all he had to do? Just punch in some random things about a person, and it would just tell you the technique to use on them? He'd love to know where he could get his hands on one of these things. But, before O'Hare could ask another question. A line of text came scrolling across the tiny screen.

"Ah ", said Sternstein in a pleasurable manner, as he looked toward Ted. "It seems the computer had chosen Technique Number Thirteen for you. Most fascinating."

Ted sat their, wondering what the heck Technique Number Thirteen was. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of metal creaking and squeaking. On the other side of the room, the tall man was busy unfolding a portable, metal table. Once assembled, he wheeled the metallic, cart-like table next to the right hand side of the chair. Ted was more confused then ever. What would he need that for? Again, the same annoying sound ripped through the air. Now their were to identical tables. One of his right and the other on his left. Why he would need two of them Ted couldn't fathom. Surly one would suffice. Then again, nothing about this situation made any since. He'd already tried getting Sternstein to tell him what exactly Technique Number Thirteen was. All his attempts had failed. In fact, the tall man said nothing. Not a single word did he speak as he went about, setting up those two tables.

Next he took an old, metal stool from under the second table. It had four legs with wheels on each one. The seat was upholstered with a dust infested, maroon leather seat. Taking a dry cloth from the table, he removed the access layer of dust. He then took the said object, placing on the floor right in front of Ted. He then proceed to sit down. Sternstein was now facing the pair of black and white sneakers, which rested against the leather foot rest. Reaching forward, he began to loosen up the laces on his right shoe.

"Hey  What the heck are you doing  ?", Ted protested.

Too which the tall man replied in a matter-of-fact way, "I'm removing your shoes."

As Ted was about to ask why, he heard a light 'Clump' as his shoe was placed on the right most table. The tall man did the same to his left one as well. Loosening up the laces just enough to slide the shoe free. Once more came the sound of a shoe smacking against the surface of the table. What happened next surprised Ted and made him squirm. As two, ice cold hands took hold of his foot. Ted again demanded to know what this crazy man was doing. He answered by telling him he would know soon enough. With that Sternstein started pulling off one of Ted's white socks. The other one soon followed. Taking both socks, he draped them over their respected partners. Afterward, he got up off the stool and went back.

Ted looked over at his lone foot apparel. Wondering why? What was the purpose? He had to know. Surprisingly the tall man answered him. It seemed this strange method was something he had picked up in his travels. Once he had chosen a spot in which to apply the said technique. The subject is then shown that which had protected that area. A kind of mental torment to add to the physical one. For him, he found this most effective. That didn't really help Ted that much. By now his bare feet were getting somewhat cold. What was this Technique Number Thirteen? It had something to do with his feet, that much he knew. Perhaps he was going to allow his feet to lay their naked and cold until he got a cold. That idea, however,  sounded way to stupid to be true.

Now the tall man had fetched a large, clear plastic bowl. He took it to a nearby sink and filled it up. Taking what appeared to be a portable thermometer, he placed the metal end into the water. According to him, the water had to be approximately ten more degrees warmer then room temperature. Once the water had met the require temp, the tall man took the bowl and sat it on the left side table. Grabbing a good sized cloth, he dunked it into the water and rang all of the access moisture out. It took several times before the cloth was to it's desired wetness. After that he folded the moist cloth several times over, and placed around the ring of the bowl. Ted looked at it with a quizzical look. 'How what the heck is that for ?', he wondered. Once again, as if by telepathy, the tall man answered the boy's silent enquiring thought.

"That's for the sweat.", he said with a half grin. Now Ted was really getting worried.

The last two things he brought back was a travel sized bottle of lotion and a long, red, clothed bag. He placed both of these evenly on the left most table. The lotion was to be used if the soles of his feet dried out. Apparently, this had happened many times over while using this certain technique. As for the bag, this was to be the tool he would use to apply Technique Number Thirteen. Still the question remained as to what this technique he had spoke of was. Ted was soon to find out, as was O'Hare. For the tension itself had become as thick as smog in that room. He was dying to know exactly what he was going to do to young Ted Wiggins.  His mind raced with so many horrible possibilities.  Sadly, the mind games that Sternstein had been using were far from being finished.


"Now my boy.", he said as he sat down again, the cloth bag in his hand. "I'm a man who believes in giving someone a fair chance. So, I'm going to give you that chance right now. You can simply tell Mr. O'Hare what he wants to know. This session would never have to start. I'll be able to go back home and I'll collect my payment."

"Just like that?", Ted asked in astonishment.

The tall man nodded.

"What happens if I say no?"

Sternstein lowered his head as if to conceal his amusement. "Well my boy. That would mean I would have to apply Technique Number Thirteen."
"I see.", Ted said quietly.

"It's up to you Ted. This is your choice, yours and yours alone."

"How long do I have to decide?", the boy asked.

"Take as much time as you want, my boy. Where certainly not going anywhere."

The choices had been laid out before him. He could simply tell Mr. O'Hare what he wanted to know. Or, he could choose to fight off Technique Number Thirteen. For what seemed like hours, Ted was in a mental struggle. Fighting between himself or the fate of others. 'You could easily just tell them. What harm could it do?', one side of his conscious told him.

'You know O'Hare Ted  He's not to be trusted. Forget about what might happen to you. You must remain strong ', said the other side.

"Oh come on Ted   You don't really want to go through with this do you?", O'Hare called out. "I mean think about it? There could be anything in that bag. Thumbtacks, acupuncture needles; who knows ? So make up your mind already   "

"Silence  ", Sternstein exclaimed as he waved a hand in O'Hares' direction. "Can you not see the boy is having a moral dilemma here ? At this very moment his mind is at war with itself. Contemplating the ethical and judgmental strain over right and wrong  Such a thing can not be rushed, have patience O'Hare  "

As far as that went, his went out the window several days ago. He wanted his seed and he wanted it now   Who cares about Ted's inner thoughts were battling it out to the death. At that moment O'Hare was about to loose it once more. He had the mind to tell this torturer to get on with it. Thankfully for him, Ted had made his decision, and it was the hardest one he had made. Yes, he could just tell O'Hare, but at what cost? God only knows what he wanted the seed for. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. If he choose not to tell, then he would be forced to tell. Possibly endure the most painful of pains any fourteen year old would ever endure. So, with all these thoughts spinning around in his mind. Ted breathed in a deep breath of air.

"I thought about this, I thought an awful thought. So, let me get this straight. If I just blurt out whatever O'Hare wants, you'll let me go?"

"Absolutely, I am a man of my word.", the tall man replied.

"But, if I don't tell you, then your going to make me tell you, right?"

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Ted."

"Well then, I only have two words for you, Aloysius O'Hare  "

"I'm all ears Ted ", O'Hare said and put a hand to his ear. And Ted said those two words just as loud as he could. Those two being, "Hell " and "No " He wasn't going to tell O'Hare a thing. Ted told the tall man to bring all that he had.

"Because this fourteen year old is keeping the answer to himself."

This alone made O'Hare's face flare up. Surprisingly, there also came an applause. Mr. Sternstein of all people, was clapping. Praising the youth for such an act of selflessness. He was truly honored to have met such a noble, young man.

"Really? Wow   Thanks, I think? So, does that mean you'll let me go?"

For the first time during his visit, Sternstein laughed. It was not the same kind you'd expect from one like him. It was the cheerful gales of someone that had heard the most hilarious joke. "No, no, no. Now I can't do that. Chapter Three, page twenty-four, paragraph ten of the Torturer's Handbook, clearly states that once the subject has given up his or her chance to speak freely. Then that said subject must go through with the technique chosen by the torturer. I'm most, deeply sorry, my boy. But, I'm afraid I must introduce Technique Number Thirteen to you. But, before we begin.  I am a man who believe in fairness. So, at anytime during this session you feel like you need to say something. I give you my word I will stop the session to hear you out. Do you understand what I have told you?"

Ted swallowed hard and nodded.

"Good  Now we shall begin  Oh  One more thing..."

"Oh come on   Well you just get on with it already   ?", O'Hare cried.

"By silent Aloysius O'Hare, or I will be forced to send you outside   The Art of Torture is not an exact science. It is a work of art in process. A magician never reveals what he is about to do before he performs his trick. No, he uses time to his advantage, luring the audience into a false since of security. That way, when the trick is performed they marvel at it's achievement. In other words. You can't look up the magicians sleeve  "

O'Hare folded his arms and huffed. 'I can if I want to you sadistic psycho ', he thought.

The moment had finally come. The answer to Ted's question was about to be revealed. With a tug on the sides of the bag, Sternstein reached inside and pulled out; a feather  O'Hare wasn't amused. He had waited all this time and for what? A stupid, useless fragment of a birds body  ? He couldn't believe it   I was certainly thinking twice about paying this guy anything now

While O'Hare cursed to himself. Ted was having an all to different reaction. Yes, to O'Hare the object Sternstein held was nothing more then a piece of a birds' exterior.  But, to Ted, that same object brought worry and a slight touch of fear. For he now knew the answer. The terrible, horrible, chilling answer. He now only realized what Technique Number Thirteen was. In that instant he wished her were home, doing stacks upon stacks of algebra homework. Anything then what was to come next.

As Sternstein lowered the feather toward Ted's bared feet, the boy spoke, "Wait  Ahhh   Can't we talk this over?"

"I'm afraid you've made you choice my boy, and you chose the technique. Remember one thing Ted. During this session you have free rang to begged, plead or cry if you choose to, there is no shame. Now, let us proceed."  With that the tall man brought the feather up to the heel of his right foot. Lightly stroking the feather against it.

Ted could defiantly feel the sensations creeping up his ankles and legs. Taking in a deep breath he pressed his lips lightly together. He'd had his far share of tickling in his day, and the one thing he knew more than anything. Never let them hear you laugh. That was the only thing he had learned. For if he did laugh, there was no doubt this torturer would continue. All he had to do was hold out, just long enough until he was certain the tall man had given up. Laughter was the main thing. If they hear you laugh, it'll just make them want to tickle you all the more. So, Ted tried as hard as he could to hold it in. A few, light chuckles escaped but nothing too big. As Ted did his best to fight the urge to laugh, the feather was now tracing large circles about the heel. Ted shut his eyes and clinched his teeth. 'Come on Ted, don't laugh ', he thought to himself. But, with each touch from those soft, prickly fibers. The boy found it harder and harder to remain his composure. Sternstein was still working over the heel, using the flat tip of the feather. Brushing it slowly from the beginning of the instep to the bottom of the heel. Ted's foot jerked a bit as he did this. A normal reaction, as he had seen the same thing countless times before.

One the left side of the room. O'Hare and Callahan stood watching. O'Hare noticed that something might be wrong with Ted. His cheeks were becoming very flushed, almost turning a deep red  He mentioned this to Sternsein. The tall man looked up from his position, only making the comment that everything was fine. This type of reaction wasn't anything new to him. In fact, it was perfectly normal what Ted was doing.

"Normal  ? You call that normal  ? Look at the disgusting color he's turning  "

"Calm yourself O'Hare.", Sternstein said. He went on to explain that the boy was just using an old trick every child has tried. In his mind, he thinks if he doesn't laugh, the tickling will end. Unfortunately for him, the tall man knew every reaction that was known for this technique. Thankfully for Ted, he wouldn't pass out. His mind would send messages to him, telling him if he doesn't breath he will eventually explode. While he was talking, Sternstein began dragging the tip of the feather across the heel in slow, vertical strokes.

Poor Ted couldn't believe what was being done to him. He'd never, in his whole life, been tickled like this before. This wasn't your standard, 'Let's be mean to Ted, and tickle his feet'. No, this was altogether different. Just the way the feather was being applied to his feet was totally different. His poor, soft, pink soles at Sternstein's mercy. Already tiny beads of sweat were forming on his brow. He tried so hard to hold it in, but with each brush from that silky, smooth feather. Ted found it harder and harder to control his reactions. Bursts of ticklish sensations now flooded his nervous system. Each a jolting telegram being sent to his brain. Each one carrying the same message, 'Laugh, Ted, laugh ' By now, Sternstein had begun on his instep.

'No   Not their  ', Ted thought to himself. That certain area just happened to be a major hot spot. As the feather glided upwards, its soft bristles kissing the sole. Ted finally could take no more and a wave of laughter came forth.

"Ah  We have a winner ", Sternstein said with a grin. "And you thought there was something wrong. Have patience Mr. O'Hare. And now my boy, do you wish to telling me anything?"

Ted shook his head as he cackled. And so, on did Technique Number Thirteen go.
     
While his instep was being tormented. Ted's mind went back in time as he tried to keep his cool. He remembered the first time anyone had found that spot. It just happened to be Audrey.

******

It was a rainy Saturday in Thneedville. The roads were literally drenched in rain wash. Ted had arrived at Audrey's house on his scooter. He'd taken an umbrella with him, but even that couldn't stop the water from falling on him. By the time he reached the front door, the kid was soaked. His shoes made squishy sounds as he walked into the house. He quickly removed them, hoping they would be dry by the time he left.

The reason he had came over wasn't just so he could see Audrey. He was also their to do some serious studying. He'd had some trouble with math for a long time. Audrey had offered to help him out. So they both headed to the dining room and sat down. Audrey was seated on the right and Ted took a seat across from her. In no time, the two were deviling deep into the catacombs of major headache city which was, math homework. During that time as they helped each other out by swapping answers back and forth. One of Ted's stocking feet happened to accidentally bump into one of Audrey's.

The red haired girl looked at him with a smile. Apparently she thought Ted was trying to play a game of Footsie with her. So, she took one of her own, and slowly dragged the toe of her boot against the bottom of Ted's stocking foot. The spot she was gently rubbing just happened to be thee spot. The same one that was now being administered to by the feather. In an instantly Ted jumped up off his seat. Reaching down he took hold of his socked foot and rubbed the bottom of it.

"I'm sorry Ted, did I hurt you?", Audrey asked.

"No, no of course not. Just promise me you won't do that anymore."

"Do what? I thought you were....", she tried to say, but started to blush.

Ted looked back at her with a very confused look. It was an accident wasn't it? He didn't mean to do what he did. Then it dawned on him, and he to started to blush as well. Afterwards, he told her what really happened. That she hadn't hurt him but had gave him one heck of a  start. Of course, she didn't know just how sensitive his feet were, now that she did. Ted told her to promise him that under no circumstances was she to tell them about his weakness. She agreed, but also stated that he would have to owe her. At first Ted had no idea what she meant by this. That is until he saw that semi-playful look in her eyes as she leaned forward, hands folded in front of her.

Ted gulped nervously as he gave her a half smile followed by a series of shaky giggles. That was the first time he'd ever been tickled on that particular area of his foot. And, it wouldn't be the last either.

*****

Back in the room, Sternstein had stopped the session so Ted could rest. The tall man used the moistened cloth to clean the sweat and tears from the boy's face. Asking him if he had anything he wished to say.

In a weakened state, Ted said, "No."

And so the session continued. The feather went back to his right instep, brushing softly upward. By now his toes had already begun to wiggle. Scrunching up as tight as they could as the feather crept closer to them. Ted tried pulling his foot back, but he could only move it less then a fourth of an inch. Not nearly as much as he wanted.  As the tall man stroked the feather up and down Ted's instep, the sound of his laughter grew. The boy poor could barely stand it, and his torturer hadn't even begun to work on his left foot yet. Surprisingly, he never gave in. As much as it tickled him, Ted refused to speak. Such a thing was a rare challenge indeed, and Sternstein found it most intriguing. Most of his other subjects had never lasted this long, not without begging and pleading for it to end. Ted was a fighter, and the tall man was honored to be working with such an individual. O'Hare, on the other hand, wasn't feeling all that glorious. He wanted Ted to tell him what he wanted to know. The more time it took, the more impatient the little guy became.

"It's amazing ", Sternstein spoke as he ran the feather up and down Ted's right foot. "I've never seen such strength and courage before. I'm quite impressed, my boy. I can see why you like picking on him Mr. O'Hare. He is a very unique young man."

"Whatever  Just how long is this going to take?"

"Like I said, this is one thing that can't be rushed. It's all up to Ted. It's his decision wether to end this session or not." O'Hare kept asking him how long it would take. To which Sternstein reminded him yet again about his lack of patience.

During this time, the feather was now brushing it's soft tip against the maddening, wiggling five digits. From Ted's mouth came a light sounding, "stop " The first plea he had uttered. Apparently, the tall man had found another hot stop, that being his toes. Not surprisingly though, as he had  found this area to be most effective and continued working on them. All the while, Ted's laughter increased. Tears ran down his cheeks, blurring his vision. Sweat rolled down, stinging his eyes. His face was turning red and he found it hard to breath. Even his throat was starting to hurt from laughing. After several more brushes against his toes, Sternstein once more ended the session.

Ted felt the cool wetness as the cloth was applied to his face. He felt hot and tired, gasping for air. His brown hair was beginning to stick together do to the sweat. Through out the break period, he could hear Sternstein speaking to him. What he said wasn't threatening at all, more like encouragement. Telling the boy he was doing fine, as well as asking the same question. That being if he had decided to talk.

Ted said not a word, just shook his head.

After the three minute break period was over, the tall man continued the session. This time he starting working on the left foot, beginning with the heel. Poor Ted could no longer fight off the tickling. He bursted right into waves of forced merriment. His feet were literally bouncing, trying to get away from the tickle tool. The whole foot rest on which they laid began to shake violently. Soon the air was filled with the sounds of laughing and pleading. Ted cried out, pleading, begging for it to stop. Several times he bellowed out about how much it tickled. That he couldn't stand it

"Well my boy. You know how to end this. Just telling me what I need to know, it's as easy as that.", the tall man spoke as he dragged the feather over his left heel and instep.

By now Ted had become so weak. His throat ached with each laugh. Sweat and tears were pouring down more frequently now. So much so that Sternstein had to stop the session twice just to clean him up. Like before he spoke very calmly to Ted. These rest periods didn't seem to bother the tall man in the least. Though O'Hare had lost all interest in the moment. For now he kept looking at his watch, counting down the minutes, wondering when he was going to crack. By the way he was behaving, he could tell that Ted was almost out of energy. He smiled at this. In no time now, Sternstein would've tickled him to the point were he would have no other choice but to give in.

The session began again. Once more the feather stroked both the heel and instep. Ted's eyes grew wide as he cried out in uncontrollable fits of laughter. The tall man still telling him that he only had to tell him. Anything that he held inside himself, whatever it may be. He only had to speak it. But, Ted was to busy laughing to talk. By now the feather had made it's way up toward the ball of his foot. Their it remind for several minutes as Sternstein applied short, whisking stokes to the area. In time it moved onward, toward the toes. The poor, defenseless things could do nothing but wiggle about. Taking the side of the feather, the tall man brushed against the spasmodically, wiggling appendages. Ted cried out as he pleaded for the tickling to stop. His poor feet had been tickled silly for so long he could barely stop laughing. Then the torturer did something that really got the boy going. He took the feather and dragged it up from the heel of the left foot to the toes. Then from the toes of the right foot and down to the heel, repeating the process over and over.
"N...no...no more.....", Ted pleaded.

"Do you wish to say something, my boy?", Sternstein asked.

Ted said not a word but continued to laugh.

After a few more minutes of unending tickling, Sternstein stopped again for another three minute break. As he wiped the sweat from Ted's face, there was some concern in his voice. Asking him if he wished to go on. He told Ted that he was very impressed with his courage for holding out for so long. He had a very strong will, and he seemed pleased with this. Much more then O'Hare was. He was sure that Ted Wiggins would've snapped by now. I mean, how much more of this could the kid take?

The three minute mark had went by and it was back to the session. At this time the tall man began whisking the feather across both insteps. This caused Ted to go really crazy with laughter. Almost to the point of making him scream  Nothing, not one other insistent that he could think of, could possibly describe the sensations he was feeling. And yes, he had most defiantly been attacked by a feather before. In fact, he'd received it several times from Audrey herself.


******

"Now just relax.", Audrey spoke with such tenderness.

Ted's feet lay across her legs as she started to remove his shoes. He flinched when she went to take off his socks. Softly she told him it would be alright. Ted didn't buy it. Not that he didn't trust her. It's just he had such sensitive feet. He was afraid that she might get to carried away. That she might ended up tickling him too much. But, that soothing voice of her's outweighed everything.

"It'll be okay Ted.", she said as his socks were pulled off. With that she picked a small, Swomee -Swan feather.

Ted immediately backed away after seen the object in her hand. "No  Please, not that  ", he said with a shiver.

"Ted.", Audrey said with laugh. "Get back here, silly. I just want to see what your reaction is, that's all."

"I'll tell you what the reaction will be, Audrey. Me, screaming like a little girl, that's what ", he said in a trembling voice.

She shook her head, put the feather down and moved over to him. She wanted him to know she wasn't going to hurt him or make him feel uncomfortable. "If it makes you feel better, I'll let you tickle my feet afterwards."

Ted wasn't to sure about that. He wasn't one to get into this sort of thing. Though he did trust her, very much, so. "You promise you'll stop if I tell you to?"

"I promise Ted. Like I said, I don't want to hurt you. I just want to hear you laugh."

"You could just tell me a joke. It's much easier then ravishing my feet with a feather."

Audrey laughed and gave him a hug. That alone almost sent Ted falling backwards to the floor.

Still a little apprehensive, he placed his feet over her legs. As the soft feather touched his sole Ted let out a short snort Audrey smiled as she brushed the feather across both feet. His toes wiggled somewhat and his cheeks should signs of blushing. But the best thing of all was his laughter. It was hard to describe what it sounded like. It was defiantly child-like in nature, with just a hint of joy. Though it didn't last long before Ted pulled his feet away.

"No....more.", he said taking in a deep breath.

Audrey just smiled at him, "Oh   Is little Teddy ticklish?", she said with a giggle.

Then she motioned for him to come back. Ted gave her a weary smile as he back away slowly. With a smile on her face, Audrey began crawling towards him. Motioning with her finger for him to come back. Ted started to giggle nervously as she slowly crept closer to him. Not wishing to stick around, he bolted from the floor, only to have Audrey chase after him. For what seemed like hours, the two ran about the house. Ted, laughing hysterically as he tried getting away. Audrey right on his heels, she was laughing as well. Before long she caught up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"No  No please ", Ted giggled as he landed on the floor.

"Come here, Ted.", she said as she playfully stalked him.

"No  No more tickling "

Audrey just smiled up at him and planted a kiss on his lips. It was his first real kiss from her. At that moment he swear he saw hearts floating about. Then he sank into her arms with the same sappy smile she knew and loved.


*****

Ted had the same fuzzy feeling now like he did when Audrey planted that kiss. However, it wasn't as enjoyable, for his head was plastered with sweat, his eyes red with tears. Try as he most he couldn't contain himself, no matter how hard he tried. As the feather whisked back and forth against his insteps, more laughter erupted. The pleads becoming more often.

Sternstein was very impressed. He'd never seen anyone take so much tickling and still keep silent. "You know Ted? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were enjoying this.", the tall man spoke as he continued his attack on the boy's feet.

"no...i....i...hate it...  ", Ted said through his laughter.

"Well my boy. If you hate it then why allow yourself to suffer? Just let the information out."  

But, Ted just shook his head.

At that the tall man decided to try a different approach. "You know Ted, I think your getting too use to the feather. How about I change to a different tool, what do you say?"

About the only response was his laughter, followed closely by several begs and pleadings. So, the tall man suggested that he might try some Grickle-Grass. Now Ted knew just how dry and itchy that stuff was. Just the thought of a blade of Grickle-Grass against the soles of his feet was horrifying  The feeling alone was twice that of any brand of itching powder. And Ted had his own experience with that stuff.

*****

He was ten years old when he got a box full of gag jokes. Everything from a whoopie cushion, to a joy buzzer was inside. Not to mention a small bag of itching powder. Now being as young as he was, common sense sometimes left the building. And so he simply took the top of the bag and ripped it open. Suddenly, the entire area was a mess with the whitish powder. The stuff was literally everywhere. His whole room looked like a veritable snow storm  Not to mention he was barefoot at the time. And, knowing how sensitive his feet were. Well, you could just imagine the kids reaction. So, young Ted tried his best to get from his room to the bathroom to wash the stuff off. So their was young Ted Wiggins, moving down the hallway. Hooping on one foot then the other, giggling as he did this. For the itching powder was starting to tickle the bottoms of his feet. Not only that, but his mother happened to catch the action as she walked by. She immediately went to her own mother Norma, asking her if she had given Ted any candy. Knowing at the time how he acted when taking in too much sugar.

*****

So no, he defiantly didn't want any Grickle-Grass. Then, Sternstein mentioned another object he could use. This made Ted's eyes grow all the more wider. What could he have said that would instill that kind of look? All the tall man said was, "Maybe I should go out and pick a little tuft from one of those Truffula Trees. I heard their very soft, more so than silk, or so I'm told."

Ted voiced his opinion in a screaming, "NO   "

The last thing he wanted was a Truffula tuft brushing against his soles. Just the slightest touch from one of those things would send him through the ceiling  

"Are you sure Ted? Cause I can always have one of O'Hare's men go get some.", the tall man teased.

The boy didn't answer. The shock of hearing what had been said about the tuft still hung in his mind. It was the reaction Sternstein was looking for. Though for the boy, it may have gone too far. Ted was now breathing way too fast. The fear installed in him was more then Sternstein had envisioned. All he wanted to do was rattled his cage, not but him into shock. So, the session was haulted as the tall man once more cleaned off the access sweat and tears. The poor boy was shaking with fright. In a shallow sounding voice, he begged the torturer not to use a Truffula Tuft on him. Stating that if he did, he would most certainly die.

"Oh  Don't worry, my boy. I wouldn't do that, I was just trying to get a rise out of you. It seemed to have work, too well I'm afraid.

O'Hare wanted to know if Ted was going to make it but was cut off by Sternstein, who was at the moment checking the boy's pulse. Finding it to be okay, he tried calming Ted down. Letting him know he was doing great, and that it would all be over soon. Then he motioned to O'Hare's henchmen to bring him a glass of water. Callahan came back with the requested beverage. The tall man thanked him and proceeded to give the water to Ted.

"Hey  ", O'Hare shouted after him. "Who gave you permission to give the kid water  ? What are you now? His mother  ?"

This outburst infuriated the interrogator, so much so that he slammed the glass hard against the right side table. Water flew into the air, splashing against the metal table's surface. He informed O'Hare that Mr. Wiggins had, in fact, endured this technique longer then any other subject. Therefore, it was only fitting that he deserve something as frugal as a glass of water. O'Hare said nothing but crossed his hands and pouted.

Meanwhile, the tall man tried giving Ted a drink, but the boy refused. He asked him again, and again he shook his head. Then he asked him the same question before continuing.

Ted sighed, "you've asked me that for...I don't know...how many times....i'm...i'm not going to repeat it...you...you.. know what....my answer is.", he said taking in heavy breaths. He went on to tell the tall man that he could tell, 'That Miserable Little Bug', that he wasn't going to say a thing. In fact, in told Sternstein that he could tickle his feet all he wanted. He would never tell him anything.

O'Hare stood their with his mouth wide open. Did he hear what he thought he heard? Did Ted just tell him to have his way with him? After all he had been through? Had the kid lost his mind  ? At that moment he had to know just one thing. He waved Sternstein over, asking him if he ever had anyone go this far.

"Are you speaking in general or just his age group?", the tall man asked coldly.

"Just answer the stupid question will ya  ", O'Hare cried.
The answer was 'No.', not one of his subjects that were given Technique Number Thirteen had lasted this long. So, after answering O'Hare's question, he calmly went back to work.

The first thing he noticed was how dry Ted's soles were. Reaching towards the left side table, he took the small bottle of lotion and began shaking it. Ted, seeing him shaking the bottle, enquired as to what he was doing. "Your soles have become quite dry,  my boy. I'm merely applying some lotion to them."

With a light squeeze, several drops of lubricating liquid dropped into the palm of his hand. As he placed it offer Ted's left foot, the boy gave a 'Yelp ' Apparently, all this tickling had caused his soles to become hyper sensitive to touch. Nevertheless, he continued to the lotion, rubbing the substance against both soles. After that was completed, he continued the session.

As the feather moved into position, Ted's eyes widened even further as he gave out a couple of low, heavy breaths. He'd never felt anything like that before  It was as if the feather were alive  It's soft bristles rubbing and kissing the bottoms of his feet. All the while, speaking to him in a faint, high-pitched voice saying, "Coochie Coo Ted "  It was more then he could bare. If only Ted had known. If he could've guessed that the lotion was actually an enhancing element. Simply put, the lotion had now made the soles of his feet ten times as ticklish. And all the poor boy could do was try and bear it. Hoping that it would end so. Deep down inside, he had a sickening though that it would never be done.

*****

He knew not how much time had elapsed. All Aloysius O'Hare knew was that he was bored. Listening to Ted's laughter was slowly getting on his nerves. 'Why hasn't he talked yet ? There's no way he could stand this much tickling ', he thought. At that moment he noticed something rather odd about the kid. He wasn't quite sure what it was. He asked his henchman if the ventilation system in the complex had been repaired. As far as Callahan knew, it had been fixed prior to their arrival.

"So, if there's no bad air in here. How come he's acting like he's high  ?", O'Hare cried, pointing in Ted's direction.

True, the young man didn't look to well. Then again, no one would rightfully look very fit after going through what he was currently going through. Though he look much worse. His laughter wasn't the hard, bellowing that O'Hare had been hearing. These were more like giggles then raw laughter. Even his eyes seemed to be staring out into space. Almost like the boy wasn't really their. Had all this tickling finally drove him crazy? One would think it was possible. O'Hare called out to the tall man, informing him that his subject was acting strangely. Sternstein looked up as he to noticed the odd state Ted was in. Rather then acting worried, he was quite interested. This confused O'Hare to no end  The kid had obviously lost his marbles. However, this was not the case. According to Sternstein, Ted Wiggins, at the moment, was possibly experiencing something he called, CTS.

"CTS? What the heck is that?", O'Hare wondered.
CTS happened to stand for, 'Childhood Tickling Syndrome'. Supposedly, this phenomena had occurred several times during administration of Technique Number Thirteen, though Sternstein himself had never witnessed it himself. To him it was truly an owe inspiring feat of mental sub-conscious taking over ones self. O'Hare didn't like this, not one bit. He wanted Ted to tell him where to find a Truffula Tree seed, not to wander aimlessly through his mind


"There's nothing worry about Mr. O'Hare. I assure you. We all at one time in our childhood have been tickled in one way or another. Ted here is somehow reliving a moment from his past. Quite astonishing I must say. But, like I said, there is nothing harmful about this. Ninety-nine percent of CTS experiences are enjoyable."

O'Hare began jumping up and down. "Look here Marlin Perkins  I don't care if you plan on using this stuff for some TV science series about CTS experiences  Just get Ted Wiggins back to our wavelength  "

"I'll try, but it's pretty messing in their right now."

Sternstein moved closer to Ted. At the moment, allot of nonsense was coming from the boy. Stuff like marshmallow clouds and butterfly bread. None of it made any sense, well not to him anyway. The tall man leaned closer to Ted's ear, calling his name, asking him if he could hear him. Ted's eyes were going every which way as he kept giggling like some kitten overdosed on catnip. Sternstein repeated what he had said and surprisingly he got a response.

"Oh? Yes, yes Horton I can hear you."

O'Hare looked up at his henchmen, wondering who on earth Horton was.

"Ted?. Do you know where you are? Do you know who I am?". the tall man spoke.

He nodded, well at something anyway. Apparently, he was reliving some part of his past. His eyes, with that far away look stared right at the tall man. He smiled a big, happy smile as he spoke, "Oh hi uncle Jargus. Can I open my present from Santa now......?" With that his eyes rolled into the back and his head fell forward.

"Oh Bugger  ", Sternstein exclaimed as he tried reviving Ted. Giving him a couple of light slaps to his cheeks. It was no use, the boy was completely out cold.

O'Hare began to rant and rave, thinking he'd killed the kid. Sternstein objected, the boy wasn't dead, just in a temporary state of mental suspension.

"He's what  ?", O'Hare asked.

"I technical terms O'Hare. Ted Wiggins was tickled into unconsciousness."

O'Hare shrugged his shoulders. So what if he was? All he had to do was throw some of that water in that bowl into his face to wake him up. Sternstein shook his head. As far as he was concerned, Ted was no longer useful and should be released.

"WHAT  ? You can't be serious   He knows were to find a Truffula seed. So we simply wait for him to wake up and then start over again, right?"

"No ", was the interrogator's response. "Even if I were to do what you ask, it would do no good." He went on to say that O'Hare merely thought of torture as a means to get someone to clarify information. It was much more then that. It was also about breaking ones will, and Ted Wiggins was by far the strongest he'd ever seen. Not to mention he had possibly thee most sensitive soles he'd ever tortured. He'd already went through well over three hours of foot tickle torture. By all means, Sternstein could've tickled Ted for another three, six or even nine hours. He would never break, about the only thing that he would accomplish with this, would be the boy's eventual death. Which was a road he'd rather not travel.

"Well there's got to be someway of getting him to talk ", O'Hare said desperately.

There was a way, something Sternstein called, The Heart Connection.