It was a hazy Thursday afternoon when a large dusty now grey pickup truck turned off the main road and onto a very long dirt driveway. The frogs were peeping and you could hear the clanking of a toolbox as the truck jostled along. You could see "Eliot Recneps" monogramed on the sleeve of the half-buttoned faded blue coveralls. Eliot Recneps turned off the country radio and rolled up the windows as it began to sprinkle. He slowed down as the thick forest quickly turned into fenced pastures. Many of the animals ran along the fence in greeting as Eliot drove into sight of the farmhouse with adjacent workshop and extensive vegetable and flower gardens. Eliot pushed back his bandanna that held his hair out of his face when he saw and orange car parked in front of his workshop. He parked and an anxious looking woman practically sprang out of her car and toward Eliot. Amy Stone and her four kids, Gideon, Cassandra, Ismael, and Lily all started talking at once. Well, Lily didn't really talk; she just kind of latched onto Gideon's leg with her stuffed critter and stared at everyone. All Eliot could catch in the clamor was some sort of emergency about their dad. The word "explosives" was said at least once. He placed his large callused hands on her shoulders and looked at her with his calm blue eyes.
"Ma'am," He said with his ever present southern manners and accent. "You'd best get goin'. I'll take it from here." Amy thanked him several times then she kissed her children and told them to be good. Not that the really needed to be told. No kid, who as ever met Eliot Recneps, ha ever misbehaved while he was in charge. He gave them no reason to. After he took their luggage out of the car and Amy drove away, he looked at the children as they looked at him expectantly. The side of Eliot's mouth twitched as he asked nonchalantly,
"I've got food in the in the back that I need to bring in. Want to help? I have to make a call." Four eager hands shot up in response.