Life In the Stars
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Child's Play
Chapter 3
III
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As Amy drove off, 7-year-old James Danyyeel Valenti watched from the window of the upstairs room where he had been playing. Danyy, as his friends called him, was a handsome young man with blond hair kind of like his Daddy's and soulful eyes. Leaning on the windowsill, Danyy smiled, seeming lost in thought. The pawgor watched back from its pen. Jim walked into the room and Danyy turned to look at him.
"Daddy, why did you save the pawgor?"
"What do you mean, son?"
"Well, when you found the pawgor and it's dead mama trapped under that tree that had fallen on them and you threw some ropes over some branches and pulled the tree off of them, why did you bring the pawgor home and feed it and make it well again? Why didn't you shoot it?"
Jim looked at his son… "Who told you that, Danyy? I never told anyone that… not even your Mama."
Danyy just looked at the pawgor… "He wants to know."
Jim looked at his son then at the young pawgor lying on the cool grass in its pen at the edge of the woods looking up toward his son's window, and a sudden realization came over him that made the hairs on the back of his head stand up. His son had somehow learned what had happened from the pawgor itself.
Jim sat down on a chair beside his son. "Danyy… can you talk to the pawgor?"
"Kind of…" Danyy answered, "The pawgor wants to know why you didn't kill him like anyone else would have done."
Jim ran his hand through his hair and let out a deep breath of air.
"Well, son, the pawgor wasn't my enemy… It was just, well… an injured… I don't know, son! You don't have to kill every animal just because it's big or strong, only if you need to save your life or somebody else's life or something. The pawgor was injured. I felt sorry for him… and his mama was dead. So I brought him home to make him well."
"But you go hunting, Daddy."
"Yeah… well… son, sometimes I bring home something for the table, you know, but most of the reason I go hunting, just between me and you, is because I like to be out in the woods with the wild animals, just me and all the wild animals, you know. It's like therapy for me. You wouldn't understand."
Danyy smiled, seeming to understand a lot more than his young years betrayed. He looked back at the pawgor, and the pawgor closed its eyes with that satisfied cat look and began purring. The pawgor understood; the pawgor was a hunter, too.
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Amy DeLuca had driven straight from Jim's house over to Michael and Maria's. Michael and Maria lived near Jim and Kathleen in the country. As Amy drove up, six-year-old Elizabeth JoLee ran out to meet her. Maria was right behind her.
"Mommy, Mommy, can I come back to Maria and Michael's house and play with Zorel and Kryys and Jayyd tomorrow, too? Can I, Mommy?"
Amy smiled and picked JoLee up.
"Did I have this much energy when I was this age," Maria asked. "I thought Zorel, Kryys, and Jayyd were a handful! JoLee is sweet, but what a bundle of energy!"
"You love it, though, don't you!" Amy said, smiling.
Maria smiled back… "Yeah, you know I do! And I'll tell you someone else who's loving it!" She indicated with her head toward Michael in the side yard helping the boys, Zorel and Kryys, build a tree house. Five-year-old Jayyd was already inside it.
Amy shook her head. "I admit it, Maria, I had my doubts about Michael when we were on Earth, but you really picked a good one!"
Maria beamed. Michael lifted 6-year-old Kryys onto his shoulders and then picked up Zorel, who had just turned 8, and sat him down inside the door of the new tree house with his sister.
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Meanwhile, in Roswell, New Mexico, Agent Smith strolled down the walk by the exhibits at the local zoo, stopping at a bench across from the monkeys' cage.
"Sir," he said to the individual seated on the bench, "Two more of our agents have resigned."
Agent Dumas Zwolinski looked up from the bench and grimaced, the veins in his neck standing out more than usual.
"Smith, we've got to make sure this Unit doesn't fold. Whatever it takes, you and I have to hold this Unit together… for the sake of the country."
"Yes, sir!"
"They can take our offices from us… they can take all our money…"
"Uh, sir…"
"What, Smith?"
"That brings up a little matter of… my paycheck…"
"You weren't listening, Smith! We're doing this for the good of the country! My God, Smith, look at me! They took my offices… all because of this stupid cable thing! I'm keeping office at the zoo… across from some damn monkeys. And you're worried about a paycheck?"
"Sorry, sir."
"Yeah, well, you should be… At least there's nothing else that could go wrong!"
Just then a pigeon sitting on the tree limb above Zwolinski relieved itself. The whitish gob smacked down on Zwolinski's forehead, right between the eyes, and ran down the bridge of his nose. Zwolinski sat totally still, but the veins in his neck were pulsing and his face was reddening.
"Smith."
"Sir."
"Have all these birds killed."
"Uh, I'm sorry, sir, but Roswell is a bird sanctuary. I don't think I can…"
"Of course it's a freakin' sanctuary! What else could ruin my day!"
Almost as if in answer to Zwolinski's question, at that moment, a well-dressed man with a briefcase walked up.
"Are you Dumas Zwolinski?"
"Who wants to know?"
"I'm Agent Bernstein with the IRS. Is there some place we can talk?"
"Yeah… right here!"
"All right. There's a little matter we need to discuss about some unpaid taxes."
"What unpaid taxes?"
"Communications taxes… on $15 million of cable services… Plus interest and penalties…"
Zwolinski took out his pistol and looked at it then handed it to the IRS agent.
"Here… Just shoot me!"
-------------------End of Chapter 3