Chapter 23AE

'The Skywalker Walk of Shame: Keep Walking'

'I've Got Your Tutor Right Here'

'Can You Hear Me Now? Sith & Family Plan'

'The Neighbours on Faleen Hyper Drive'

'Lessons Learned'

A week passes. The most sullen creature in the galaxy greets Anakin on a bright Sunday morning.

The unhappy creature lumbers pass Anakin in the kitchen on the way to the way to the dayroom. The Dark Lord stands at the kitchen counter sipping a freshly brewed cup of coffee. He smiles.

"Morning, sweet pea."

"It's noon," She responds curtly.

"It's still good to see you."

Ana-Lena sighs heavily.

"This is so unnecessary."

"Did you have breakfast?"

"I lost my appetite on the way over."

"I know you're hungry, so I made breakfast for you."

"You? …made breakfast?" Her tone is one of surprise and horror. Anakin is insulted.

"Why do you have to say it like that? I can cook…stuff."

Ana-Lena is barely listening as she is about to leave the room in search of her mother.

"Where's Mom?"

"You know Sunday is shoe shopping day. Heh-heh." He takes another sip from his cup. Ana-Lena is not laughing.

"Very funny, Dad."

"I'm joking…She's upstairs…go have a seat. I told her to give us some space. Oh, by the way, your tutor should be here shortly."

Ana-Lena appears disinterested as she draws the kitchen curtain and looks outside.

"He doesn't seem too reliable if you ask me."

"He's training his stand-in so he can spend more time to tutor you. This will be a good learning experience."

"I think I'll be able to manage on my own."

"Oh, suddenly you can use the Force to change an 'F' back into an 'A', eh?"

"Oh, Daddy!"

Meanwhile, somewhere in the posh neighborhood, Arnold observes his newspaper delivery trainee. It is not going as well as planned. The trainee has much to complain about to his instructor.

"I simply do not understand how this is enjoyable work for anyone."

"It's the work ethic, Threepio. It's about servicing others. I like it."

"My word! Your clients are so inhospitable. Not one 'Good Morning' or 'How do you do's' from any of them!"

"It's all in the delivery. As long as you do a good job…" He tosses a paper onto the manicured lawn of one of his customers. "It gives you a good feeling helping others." The owner scowls from a bay window overlooking the property. Threepio is not convinced.

"Excuse me, Master Arnold, but can't they get their news form the holo-net? This printed media seems very primitive; and besides, this shoulder strap is dulling my golden exterior."

"So you want me to lose my only income?"

"Well, I…I don't know what to say. I never thought about it that way."

"I know you're a protocol droid, Threepio, but you're awfully cynical."

"Well, over the years, my efforts to steer the Skywalker family in the right direction have failed. I feel so unappreciated. I sense they simply don't consider me part of the family."

"Really?"

"I have nightmares that they secretly tinker with my memory chip. I figure this is how the galaxy is. It giveth and it taketh away."

"Huh? Well, you can't give up, Threepio. When you get right down to it, I believe they really do appreciate you. Why would they keep you around otherwise?"

"My word, you are a smart lad. No wonder Master likes you. He is constantly complaining about his own children but he absolutely adores you."

"Really? Does he always complain about his kids?"

"Oh, yes! He thrives on it. Master Skywalker says that they have disappointed him for the last time; but then, he been saying this for years. He believes knocking their ego a few notches gives them something to aspire to later. He says it builds character."

"Oh…"

It is almost noon as Arnold and Threepio hit the last house on the exclusive paper route. The alarm sounds on his Jr. New Republic – 'Know the Force' wristwatch.

"Hey, it's time to get back. Mr. Skywalker says I had better be prompt."

Threepio reaches inside his 'trainee' messenger bag and pulls out a Sunday paper.

"But we have one more paper, young master Arnold."

Arnold checks the list.

"It belongs to this address over here! Why are you holding on to it?"

"I thought you were going to giving me the cue to toss it."

"Toss it now!"

Threepio swings back his golden arm. The rolled up paper sails across the lawn towards the house. It bounces off a flagpole where an Old Empire flag is waving in the breeze. The daily lands in a fountain at the base of the pole. Arnold stares for a moment.

"Whoa…"

Threepio watches too.

"Well, is that bad or good, Master Arnold?"

"I'm not sure. This guy never comes out of his house…not that I have ever seen."

Suddenly the dark drapes in the large bay window begin to move. A gaunt gray face peers out onto the lawn. The sunken eyes appear yellow with red irises.

Arnold tiptoes backwards. There is a click of the lock as the front door starts to open. Threepio stalls, curious to see who is at the door.

"Oh, the owner's coming right now."

Arnold's eyes widen. He shoves Threepio and then speeds up his pace.

"What are you waiting for? Run!"

"Run, why would we do that?"

"Don't just stand there! Let's go!"

Threepio trails behind his paperboy mentor, stumbling as he runs from the house. The messenger bag swings behind him with the shoulder strap caught around his metallic throat.

The two arrive at the Skywalker residence. Arnold rests against the door trying to catch his breath. A droid's golden body creaks loudly. Arnold giggles.

"Gee, Threepio, you should have seen yourself! Your arms were flailing like a crazy person."

"Are we out of danger?"

"We were never in danger. I just wanted to see you run. General Solo said you scare easy."

"That was not funny. Not funny at all. I'm shocked to hear that you actually listen to that impossible man!" Threepio tips his head to the side before speaking again. "Master Arnold, did you call me a person?"

The laughing subsides. Arnold thinks for a moment. The two look at one another.

"Master Arnold, that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"You're welcome."

Someone is standing at the door.

Arnold looks down at the brown nuna leather slippers of the person standing before him. The tall figure greets them.

"It's noon. You're late."

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Skywalker. I'm ready for my next chore."

"As challenging as this is, I don't want you to think of this as a chore."

"Yes, sir. I mean…no, sir."

"What's going on with my protocol droid, he looks as if he's seen a ghost."

"Oh, Threepio…he's okay. He had a bit of a fright. I think one of my customers spooked him."

Anakin rolls his eyes.

"Say no more. Step inside."

Arnold steps inside the house the house pass the Dark Lord. He sets his paper delivery bag on the floor in the foyer. Threepio rushes up behind him just as Anakin is about to close the door. Anakin stares at his protocol droid. Threepio nods.

"Thank you, sir." The droid hands Anakin his trainee messenger bag.

Anakin is not being the gracious host that Threepio has assumed. The Dark Lord waves his hand and the door closes hard. He follows them inside, all the while thinking to himself, 'Fifty-odd years and his metallic creation is still useless.' Anakin tosses the bag on the floor.

'Can You Hear Me Now?'

After sending Threepio to the maintenance room for a cleaning, Anakin focuses his attention on Arnold. The two walk into the dayroom.

"Now, I'm going to get you started." He points to a chair. "Have a seat. I'm going to look for my wayward daughter. Don't move."

Anakin finds his daughter a few minutes later. Ana-Lena is on her phone in the laundry room. She is leaning against the dryer flipping through a fashion magazine.

"A double date? That would be so cool. Unfortunately, I'm wasting half my weekend at home. ..Of course, it's my impossible father! Who else would do this? I think he just enjoys making everyone's life miserable. His day isn't complete unless he crushes your spirit…listen…gotta go!" Lena rolls her eyes then turns with full knowledge that her father is approaching.

"I bet you stepped on scurries when you were young."

"Actually, I was quite fond of the critters…" Anakin is interrupted when her phone rings. She flips the device anchored on her ear and begins to speak.

"Hi…it ordinarily would be a good time but I have a tall dark cloud hovering …who else? Pepper-Ann, I would trade "Mr. Killjoy" for your "boring" dad any day."

Anakin grabs the phone out of Ana-Lena's ear then speaks into it to Pepper-Ann.

"Hey, Pep…this is Mr. Skywalker…I'm just dandy…no time to chit-chat so I'm cutting this call short…my daughter has an appointment with her tutor…bye." He snaps the phone closed and then slides it into the pocket of his black cardigan.

Ana-Lena is about to express her displeasure but her father gives her one of his 'I dare you to speak' looks and she holds her tongue. Anakin gestures to her with his index finger.

"Follow me, missy."

"Leia bought that phone for me."

"No, I bought it for you. Leia merely picked it out and wrapped it."

"Oh, yeah. You're all thumbs when it comes to wrapping presents."

"I feel your gratitude."

"Well, when will I get it back?"

"Maybe never. It was a bad decision on my part to give it to you. Show me an 'A' on your next report card and then I'll think about it."

"Daddy! That's months from now."

Her father offers a sly smile.

"Exactly! See? You're a smart girl. I have confidence you'll bring your grades up by then."

They head towards the dayroom. Ana-Lena's tutor is nowhere to be found. Suddenly Anakin hears a voice he knows well.

"Can I get you anything else, sweetie?"

"No, Mrs. Skywalker, I'm fine, thanks."

Anakin storms into the breakfast room. Ana-Lena follows her father to the glass-enclosed area with a view of the garden. Isabel sits with Arnold as he enjoys a late breakfast.

A servant places a plate of poached eggs over toast, jam, eopie ham, blue milk and yogurt. Anakin is outraged.

"What are you doing?"

"He needs breakfast."

"It's past noon." He points to his wrist.

Isabel stares at him.

"Why are you pointing to your wrist?"

"Can you tell time?"

"Not on your imaginary wristwatch."

Ana-Lena giggles. Her father turns to her and she stops. Anakin continues to argue with his wife.

"He's supposed to be tutoring!"

"He can't tutor on an empty stomach."

"But I didn't know…" Anakin is suddenly apologetic. He would never condone exploiting a child. Isabel stands up to him.

"They can work at the table."

Anakin quickly recovers his guilt feelings.

"What? When will he be done?"

"Half an hour, relax."

"If our daughter fails, I'm blaming you."

"Don't point your finger at me."

Anakin sighs loudly.

"You're getting in the way of my daughter's progress."

"Oh, that's how it's going to be, eh? Arnold, take all the time you need."

Anakin folds his arms then turns in a huff. Ana-Lena is no longer by his side.

"Now where did she go?"

Anakin finds his daughter on the kitchen phone chatting with one of her friends.

"Soni, you'll never believe this but I'm stuck with this little nerd who my parents fell in love with…I mean seriously! Oh, and get this, he's here all day. I think my dad's trying to teach me a lesson but I have my own plan…oops, gotta go…my dad's coming."

Anakin stands over her and makes one of his usual threats.

"If I find you on one more call…"

"I'm done, okay? Geez!…Am I in prison?"

"Don't make me give you a worst punishment."

"Why can't you be like other fathers? Don't you play golf or something on Sundays? Why should we suffer?"

"Go start studying. You're giving me a headache."

Arnold is at the breakfast table with his books open and ready to work. He folds his hands and smiles as Ana-Lena joins him at the table.

"You're beautiful."

Ana-Lena rolls her eyes.

"You're creeping me out, 'Poindexter'. Just stick to the lesson, okay?" She sighs heavily then whispers to herself, "How did I get myself into this?"

Just as the two settle down to study, trouble is afoot elsewhere in the Skywalker house.

Kris tiptoes across the living room after successfully passing his father's study. He stops by the breakfast room and grabs a slice of toast, lathers the toast with pera jelly until it soaks through the bread. His air surfer board is tucked under his arm. Ana-Lena ignores him when he giggles at her. He leaves the garden and slips on his red parka without zipping it. A cold breeze shoots up the walkway. His cheeks turn bright pink.

As soon as Kris reaches the front of the house, he sets his board on the ground. He licks jelly from his hand. Just as he is about to take off down the path, He suddenly realizes he is not alone. His air surfer board is not moving. He looks down and sees some one standing in front of him. The tip of the person's shoe is firmly planted on the end of the board.

"Going somewhere, sport?"

Kris gulps then looks up at his father's face.

"Uhm…"

"You have a short memory. You know you're grounded, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go inside."

"Awww…maaan…" Kris sulks and heads for the front door.

Anakin pumps his fist. "Yes!" He is again victorious. The victory is short-lived however. Kris is on the telephone.

"I just need some moral support. Mags went to his great grandfather's 110th birthday. He's the old man's namesake so he has to attend. Poor sap. Come on over…why not? What if she gets all mushy and stuff? Well…yeah…sure I like her but I don't want her to take me for granted. Han says I've gotta keep 'em guessing…he's my sister's husband …not Ana-Le! Don't be an idiot! He's my older sister Leia's husband...yeah, like Ana-Le's gonna snag a husband! The guy would shoot himself with a blaster first. Ha! So, are you coming? We can watch holovids or something…well, that's all I've got! I'm grounded and can't go to the air surfer park. Oh, my mum says your parents have to say ok…sure, I'll wait…"

Anakin returns inside the house and hears Kris on the phone. Exasperated, he throws up his arms.

"What's the deal with the phone today? Isabel!"

Isabel walks into the living room. She holds a mobile phone at her side and not doing a good job concealing it.

"What is it now?"

Anakin points to Kris.

"Didn't we take away his privileges?"

"We never mentioned the phone. It's a minor loophole…not a big deal at all. I told him that his friends can come here since he's grounded."

"What? Are you a lawyer now? So how long are they staying?"

"They're staying for dinner."

"Isabel, you're killing me."

"Stop whining."

"This arrangement is getting worse all the time. Things are going to start changing around this house. Mark my words." He storms out of the room and locks himself in his study.

Kris hangs up the phone. Just as he walks away, it rings. He hurries back to pick it up.

"Hello? Hi, Granpalps…yes…Dad, I mean, Mum let me invite my friends over for dinner…oh…he's in one of his dark moods. I think the whole family is going to be on punishment soon…yeah, well, you haven't seen him lately. We haven't seen you for a while…How's the job at TaggeMart? Cool…half day, huh? Uhm…Yeah, she'll be here...why do you want to meet her?…it's not a date; I'm too young to be getting serious about a girl. I think she's too cool for that…really? Okay, I promise…okay…see you then…bye…."

He hangs up then calls to his mother.

"Mum! Guess who else is coming to dinner!"