Chapter 28AE

'Dinner with My Father: Please Press '1' to Report Your Credit Card Lost or Stolen'

'Tub Wine'

'That Slippery Mustafar Lava Slope'

'Tonight's Gonna Be a Good Night'

Anakin heeds Master Yoda's advice and decides to set aside time at the end of the week to spend with Kris.

Anakin realizes he had better do something fast, especially after the pizza incident. The unauthorized use of the credit card and eating in the living room with his feet on the sofa is a part of the boy's descent on the slippery Mustafar slope.

During the 'great pizza rebellion', Anakin and Isabel are in bed talking. Anakin strokes his wife's hair as she recounts her visit with Doctor Melfi. They are laughing.

"So, tell me what happened."

"I just told the doctor what I thought she should know and she was fine with it."

"You told her about burning the old man? What did you tell her that for?"

"How is she going to help Kris if we're not honest with her?"

"True."

Isabel switches topics.

"Oh, do you remember a man sitting with us in the waiting room?

Anakin remembers but pretends he does not.

"I don't know…maybe…why?"

"He was yelling at the receptionist."

"Oh, that crazy-looking bug-eyed guy, all disheveled?"

"That's the one."

"Was he pissed?"

"Oh yeah…I think he recognized me…He went on a rant about people coming in without an appointment. I tried to slip out of that office as quickly as possible."

"Well, if he starts any crap next time, you let me know. I'll deal with that lunatic."

"Anakin, you're in enough trouble as it is. Anyway, I don't anticipate going there again. I don't need a therapist."

"What? You threatened to cut me."

"I did not."

"You had that 'I'll cut you' look in your eyes."

They laugh. Isabel sits up in bed and pours some tea from the tea service used earlier during Master Yoda's visit. She glances at the clock on the night table. Anakin furrows his eyebrows and wrinkles his nose...

"Do you smell food?"

Isabel puts the teapot back on the tray and panics.

"Oh, God! The time! I need to start dinner."

They scramble out of bed and hurry to shower. Meanwhile, Kris is no longer alone downstairs.

Alex arrives home and immediately prepares to enjoy a hot meal.

"Alright! Pizza! Mum and Dad finally kissed and made up, eh?"

"Yeah…I don't know if I should be emotionally scarred from neglect or happy that I'm not the product of a broken home."

"A little bit of both probably…Heh-heh…so…where did you get pizza money, kid?"

"I have my sources." He hands his brother a beverage. "Rodian cola?"

"Sure!" A few moments later, they hear footsteps. Anakin lumbers down to the living room and walks over to the sofa.

"Who said you could order pizza?"

Kris stops chewing.

"There was no dinner."

"Oh, okay."

"Want a slice?"

"Yeah…feet off the sofa."

"Want a Rodian soda, Dad?"

"God no! I'm going to get a bottle of wine." Anakin gets up to retrieve a bottle of wine. Kris calls him from the living room.

"Oh, dad, your wine is bad. I tried it and it was yucky. Good thing I had Rodian soda to get the taste out of my mouth. I dumped the bottle down the drain. You should get your money back." Anakin's youngest is so proud of himself. He has no idea what he has done.

Anakin sees the empty bottle in the sink before Kris finishes talking. The last of the red liquid is now a dried stain in the sink. Eighty-five credits is now flowing though the Coruscant drainage system. Anakin taps his fingers on the kitchen counter as he counts to ten. He looks at the label of the 36-year-old bottle of Corellian Bela Vistal Bordeaux and whispers to himself.

"I'm going to kill him."

'The Commitment'

It is sometime in the afternoon at the end of the week when Anakin picks up Kris at the Jedi Temple. Kris stands at the bottom of the steps. Anakin beeps the horn to the speeder. Kris grabs his rucksack and walks to the vehicle.

Anakin watches as his son tosses the rucksack in the backseat. A Jedi robe is stuffed inside the rucksack. Anakin speaks as Kris opens the front passenger door.

"Hello, "Mr. Skywalker."

Kris rolls his eyes and sighs.

"Hi, Dad."

"Where's your Jedi robe, Mr. Skywalker?'

"In my bag. I'm not wearing it to dinner."

"You're the boss."

"Are we going to keep this up for the rest of my life?"

"As long as it takes, boss. You're the one with the credit card."

They arrive at headquarters. Kris figures this cannot be good. He has not been at headquarters since the big commotion involving Admiral Zarin. Kris and his father take the elevator to the Imperial Executive Dining Room. The maître D' Raine Jir escorts the father and son to Anakin's favorite table. He is overly ingratiating and fidgety.

"Good afternoon, my Lord…" He notices Kris. "Young man." He turns to Anakin. "I will have the waiter tend to you immediately."

"Thank you."

They sit quietly as a waiter arrives to recite the specials.

"Good afternoon, My Lord. My name is Pierre and I will be your waiter this evening. Would you like to hear about our specials? We have an Okikuti bass sautéed in a green butter white wine reduction sauce, Shaak rib-eye with sliced munch-fungus and peppers…a refreshing winter green salad…" Anakin stops him.

"Give us a few minutes." Anakin looks across the table at Kris. He is beaming like a proud father. "Well! Here we are."

Kris looks around at the officers dining nearby. He is not impressed.

"Yeah."

"See anything on the menu you like?"

"No. Just a lot of fancy food I can't pronounce."

"There's a youngling menu available but I thought perhaps you had grown out of that."

"I guess."

"Why aren't you showing more enthusiasm?"

"It's stuffy in here and I don't like the way those officers are staring at me."

"We can move to the other private dining room."

"No…it's okay…"

"I remember when you were a baby; you cried every time your mother brought you up here. The officers hated hearing a screaming baby. You were a handful."

"Looks like they still hate me." Kris takes a sip from his water glass.

"No one can ever hate you." Anakin reaches across the table and tousles his son's hair.

"They do." He nods in the direction of the dining naval officers.

There is a long silence. Anakin tries to makes another attempt at conversation.

"Where did you get that t-shirt?"

"At the Astromech Arcade Diner."

"Oh, they sell t-shirts?"

"Yeah, it's a collector's shirt."

"I see. You wear that shirt a lot. Does that thing ever get cleaned?"

"I give it to Mum to wash each week."

Anakin slaps himself on the forehead. He now comes to the realization that he is failing as a father.

"Oh geez…Yoda begged me to talk to you."

"I have an extra one."

Anakin looks around the dining room. It is dark and gloomy. The background music is not exactly something to tap your foot to; and the burgundy-colored velvet drapes look too austere for a father and son get-together.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

The younger Skywalker's eyes light up.

"You serious?"

"Yeah…come on."

The maître D' panics and follows them as they leave the table.

"Is there something wrong my Lord?" He blocks Anakin from exiting. "If the waiter was too slow, I'll replace him straight away."

"No. We're done here. Thank you."

"But, my Lord…"

"Excuse me." Anakin sweeps pass the maître D' with Kris in tow.

The befuddled headwaiter nervously watches as Anakin exits the dining room. He turns helplessly to the other wait staff. The officers at the surrounding tables watch with no great interest. "We're all going to die!" The maître D' promptly faints as several naval officers are preparing to eat their dinner.

'That Tall Darth Dark Lord Sure Plays a Mean Fuse-ball'

Twenty minutes later father and son are sitting at an oval table. Multi-colored strobes flash across the room. Moog synthesizer music pulses through the place. Kris is slurping through a straw the last of a beebleberry malted. Anakin watches patiently. The slurping stops. Anakin points to the empty 32-ounce cup.

"You want another one of those?"

"No, I'm done. You should try one, Dad."

"I'm good." Anakin has not finished the Super Gonzo shaak burger deluxe in the neon blue serving basket. The gravy has since seeped into the fries and the hijiki salad is untouched. He pushes his plate away. Kris has ordered the Astromech Special burger with the works and Gonzo cheese fries. The excess cheese congeals on the fried potatoes. It resembles the brightly colored milk glue used in youngling school projects. Kris has a voracious appetite for his small frame.

Anakin looks around at all the kids playing arcade games. The strong pulsing lights make him wonder why none of the youths has passed out from a seizure. Kris sits quietly at the edge of the seat inside the booth. He looks as if he is about to leave. Anakin notices.

"Are you anxious to go someplace?"

"Umm…I usually play a couple of games."

"Is this where you spend your time after training at the Jedi Temple with 'Master Dummy'? "

"Who? Oh, Kyle." Kris smiles sheepishly. "He doesn't come here…that much."

"I bet. So, are you any good?"

"I hold my own. I scored 155 million points to date…wanna play?"

"I'll just watch you waste away 25 percent of your life."

They walk over to an available machine. Anakin watches as Kris inserts a data card and begins playing. Kris scores and additional 750 thousand points before his value on the card is zero. Anakin notices that the other players must also replace value on their cards. Kris throws up his arms in frustration.

"Aw man! I was almost at 160 million points!"

Anakin goes to the vending machine to refill his son's card. He notices a man sitting at a counter near the bank of machines. The sign on the counter reads 'Customer Service: No Refunds'. Anakin walks around the front.

"Excuse me."

The scruffy looking man at the counter is flipping through a magazine. The nameplate on his shirt pocket reads "Nat 'the Spider' Wuher." He has several tattoos on his arms and neck. His hair is unruly with some sort of hair gel on it. Nat glances up periodically at a plasma screen anchored above the counter. Anakin stands in front of the attendant and places his hand over the magazine 'Millennium Hot Bodies'.

"Hey! Gnat!"

The attendant sighs then, without looking up, he responds in a monotone voice. It becomes clear that he has repeated this to the customers on a daily basis. Nat points to the sign on the counter.

"The data card machine is working. No refunds. Stop tampering with the slider."

Kris calls his father. "

"Dad? I need my datacard or I'll lose my points."

"One minute, Kris, Daddy's trying to talk to the nice man."

A few of the young gamers overhear this and giggle. Kris blushes. He cannot believe his father has embarrassed him this way. After all, he is no longer a baby.

Anakin realizes that the attendant does not immediately recognize him. Anakin is trying his best to contain his anger. He is supposed to be setting an example of patience and calm negotiation. Suddenly the plasma turns black. The attendant reaches for the remote to restore the picture. The remote flies out of his grasp and into Anakin's hand. The attendant looks stunned.

"What the…"

"Gnat, I need your undivided attention."

"What?"

"Don't you think it's dishonest that these kids pay have to pay 1 credit for three minutes of play?"

"Not my problem, Buddy."

No one has ever referred to the Dark Lord as 'Buddy' and no one will, ever again. He could teach the attendant a lesson but this is supposed to be a quality time father and son night. On the other hand, someone needs to learn some respect.

Anakin returns to the arcade game that Kris is playing and hands him the card. He tosses a ripped up magazine into the trash bin.

"Here's your card. You can play now."

Anakin's demeanor is upbeat, a big change from several minutes ago. Kris thinks it is just part of Anakin's new and improved parenting style. Kris resumes his game. He is happily playing as his father stands at his side. Kris turns to his father.

"Dad, sure you don't wanna play a game?"

"I'm sure."

"I'm hoping to win that Kashyyyk 3000 Jetboard. You need 600 million points to win."

Anakin glances up at the big prize hanging from the ceiling. Inter-galactic water surfing champion Wade Joben signed the brightly colored jetboard. The gamers have been competing for the prize for months without a winner. This is the unattainable prize of the year. The odds are against anyone who attempts to play to win. Anakin watches as the players spend every credit they have but never coming close. Kris fairs better than most but not by much. He has two credits left on his card and he is becoming frustrated. Anakin gently pushes his son aside and takes over the game controls.

"Kris, let me try this."

"No one ever wins. We'll be here all night and still not win."

"It's all how you play the game…" Anakin plays and scores 450 million points with one credit left to play on the datacard. A crowd begins to form around the game console as Anakin continues to rack up points.

The surly attendant is throwing a tantrum when he sees the crowds forming. Players are racking up points on every game in the arcade. The attendant decides he had better return to his seat before the Dark Lord comes after him again.

Returning home is another adventure. The father and son make their way from the parking bay and to the terrace.

"So, you had a good time?"

"Yeah…but you didn't have to take over the game."

"But look what you won!"

"You raked up the 600 million points. Leave me a little dignity, Dad."

"You weren't going to make it without me."

"I was close."

"Yeah…right."

"Nat was awfully pissed when everyone was racking up points without refilling their datacards."

"I know. He was pissing me off; I had to teach him a lesson. Don't tell your mother."

"He'll never call you 'buddy' again, that's for sure."

"I guess not."

"He was so polite to you when we left, 'Yes, Mr. Skywalker…Goodnight Mr. Skywalker'… that was funny."

Anakin hoists the jetboard and carries it through the trellis.

"Let's get this thing around the back before your mother sees it."

Father and son are not alone.

"Where have you two been all night?"

Isabel stands in the doorway of the dayroom. Anakin's attempt to sneak the jetboard around the back of the house fails. He whispers to himself.

"Oh, sith!" He turns to his wife and flashes his charming smile but he knows he is in for an earful. "Uhm…oh, hi, Honey."

"Do you know what time it is?"

"Late?"

"I tried calling you."

"Hey, I spent quality time with my son. You're going to nag me now?"

"Kris has to go to do chores in the morning."

"Hey, it's a Saturday, let him sleep in tomorrow."

"What's that?" She points to the large shadowy object he is carrying.

"Uhm…guy stuff." He waves his hand in her face to apply the Jedi mind trick. "You're tired. You should go to bed."

"Yes, I'm tired. I'm wondering why my twelve year old isn't home and in bed."

Kris smiles.

"It's not working, Dad."

"Isabel, just let me put this thing in the back and we'll talk in the morning."

"Who are you hiding it from? I know you have it."

"Oh." Anakin sets it on the terrace then enters the house through the dayroom sliding door. Kris follows him inside. Isabel watches them as she locks the door.

"Go upstairs and brush your teeth."

"Will you stop stalking to me as if I'm a child?"

Kris interrupts. "She's talking to me, Dad."

"Oh. Good. Listen to your mother."

"Goodnight, Mum."

"Goodnight, sweetie." Isabel kisses Kris on the forehead. "Take a shower before you get into bed."

"I'm tired."

"Utilize the energy that you were planning to use to hide that jetboard behind the house."

"Aw, man…"

As Kris heads up the stairs, Isabel looks at Anakin. He feels her staring at him as he is about to go upstairs.

"What?"

"You didn't do much talking, did you?"

"It slipped my mind, okay?"

"You were supposed to have a talk. Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah…we did. We ate bad food and played arcade games. It was fun."

"Good."

"I know. I'm a good father."

"You are. Thank you."

"So, you want to …you know…" He gives her a sly wink.

"Not after you ignored my phone calls. Would it have killed you to keep your phone on? I was worried."

Anakin rolls his eyes.

"Oh, jeez, here we go! Qui-Gon didn't do you any favors by making you immune to Jedi mind tricks. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. Things are going to change around this house."

"Good luck with that."

"That diner food is repeating on me. Do we have anything for heartburn?"

"Oh, you still have a heart in there?" Isabel playfully taps her fist against his chest.

"Very funny."

"All you need now is a brain."

They go upstairs to bed.