Chapter Seven

"Your parents?" Minion exclaimed excitedly, looking all about as he tried to see what Blue was talking about. "Where, sir? How? I don't see anything but the lights...!"

"Right there!" Blue said, pointing to the glowing sphere.

Minion squinted into the light for all he was worth, but still saw nothing. "I can't see anything!" he lamented, roling about in distress. "Oh, curse my fishy eyes!"

Blue rolled his own eyes in exasperation at the melodramatic display. "Oh, here," he suggested, tilting his hand and moving the glowing ball closer to Minion's globe. "Maybe you just can't see right through all that water."

Minion was willing to go with that possibility, and pressed his face right up against the glass of his habitat as his young master held the little ball against it. He made a blatty sound of pure frustration. "Still nothing!" he wailed. He desperately wanted to see what the boy had described. "Oh, sir, I'm letting you down again...!"

Blue was getting a bit frantic with the desire for him to see it, too, because he was beginning to fear that this was all a figment of his imagination. He looked up at Nick to see his reactions.

The man had also leaned toward the little shining ball, as he was powerfully curious to see the people who had sent Blue to Earth. Sadly, he was shaking his head. "Sorry, son," he said with a sigh. "I don't see anything but the lights, either."

Blue's mind whirled, analyzing the problem as fast as he could. Quickly, as he stared at the traitorous thing lying in his hand, the most obvious possibility came to him. "Maybe you need to touch it to see it," he postulated. He held it up for Nick to take.

But again, the old man shook his head. "I'm pretty sure it won't work for me. It didn't do diddly for the six years I had it, until you touched it."

That was true. Blue thought a little more. "If it only did it for me, maybe it was genetically or biologically encoded to turn on when I touch it, or when somebody with similar DNA touches it."

"That's a possibility," Nick agreed, hiding his amusement at the way this six year old child could go from talking like a kid to expounding like a research scientist. A cliche sci-fi movie thought flitted through his head: If only we could harness this power for good...

Blue's speculating rolled merrily along. "So, maybe if you touch it while I'm touching it, while it's activated..."

"Could work," Nick said. Carefully, he reached out and placed the tip of one finger on top part of the ball. When nothing happened, he tried touching it with two, then three. He shook his head. "Sorry, son, still nothing. Maybe this was a private thing, meant only for you to see."

Blue couldn't deny that possibility, but it was one he found unacceptable. He desperately wanted for someone else to see what he saw, both to prove he wasn't just imagining it, and because he wanted to share this with his friends, old and new. His mounting frustration was making it difficult to think, but Nick saw his troubled face and made an attempt to come to the rescue.

"Of course, it might just be because I'm an Earth human," he pointed out. "What you said about coding, maybe that works only for somebody who comes from your planet."

That cleared the cobwebs from the boy's brain at once. "Of course! And you can't touch it if you're in your ball, Minion!" He started to set the shining sphere aside to open his companion's globe, then suddenly hesitated. He was plainly afraid that this was a one-time thing, that if he let go of it, the globe would never activate again.

Nick saw the problem and reached for Minion's habitat. "Just tell me which side to hold up, son," he said helpfully, grasping the globe in a way that would hold it steady and yet allow Blue to reach it with his free hand.

The boy smiled gratefully, his eyes making a quick scan of the supposedly seamless glass. "Here," he said, tapping the spot where the plug was currently located. Nick turned the globe so that the place indicated was safely at the top. Carefully, so as not to let too much water spill, Blue removed the plug and set it aside. He then picked up the glowing sphere with his fingertips and held it above the opening, where Minion could lift his head above the water and touch it with what passed for his nose.

"I still can't see anything but the light, sir," was the fish's regretful report after he'd squashed the front of his flat face against the thing for several moments. "Though maybe that's because now I'm too close." His golden eyes were crossed in an effort to focus on the little ball.

Blue grunted in mounting frustration, thinking hard for all he was worth. "Maybe it'll work if I lift you out of the water so you can touch it with your fin instead." It was clear that he wanted, very badly, to share this discovery with his friend.

"It's worth a try," Minion agreed. "Just a second," he added, diving back down under the water to get fully oxygenated before leaving his habitat. While Blue transferred the ball to his other hand, Nick grabbed a towel from the things scattered across the desk and draped it across the boy's lap to catch any drips.

Minion's head popped above the water again. "Okay, sir, I'm ready!"

Ever so gently, Blue slipped his fingers into the globe, sliding them alongside Minion's body to lift him out. As soon as he touched him directly, however, the fish cried out, "Oh, sir, wait, I can see it now!"

Startled, Blue withdrew his hand; Minion frowned. "Now I can't!"

His master started to frown as well, but it took only a moment for him to spot the solution. He touched Minion again, this time settling one finger on the fish's back, between his eyes and his implanted antenna. Said eyes went wide; Minion was ecstatic. "Oh, that's it, sir! I see them again! Yes, yes, those are your parents! I remember them!"

Now very curious, Nick got up to stand behind Minion. While he took care to keep the habitat steady with one hand, he settled the other on the back of Blue's head, gently. He gasped when forms became visible in the glimmering lights, then smiled. "Well, now, it looks like whoever made this thing wanted you to decide who gets to see things and who doesn't, Blue. I'm not horning in on this, am I?"

Blue wasn't familiar with the expression, but he could tell that Nick was asking for his permission to look. He smiled back. "It's okay, Mr. Nick. You've been nice to me, and I don't want you to feel left out." That was an important issue for Blue, being excluded, and he couldn't do it to his very kind rescuer. "This is my mom and dad," he explained, in case the man hadn't caught that. "I remember them best from when they put me and Minion into the escape pod."

"They're fine looking people," Nick said with approval. "And it looks to me as if some day, you might get your wish for hair, at least a little." His nod indicated the neatly trimmed black beard sported by Blue's father.

"Yeah," the boy agreed, turning back to the image with a wistful sigh. "I wish this wasn't just a picture, though. I wish they could talk to me..."

As if in response to his wish, the image abruptly came to life. His mother spoke, softly, tearfully, her words echoed by his father. The image froze for a moment, then came to life again, repeating the same movements, the same words, the same heartbroken inflections.

All three viewers listened carefully, for the sounds were faint. Nick shook his head. "I have no idea what they're saying," he confessed. "Never heard a language like that before."

Blue and Minion both listened intently, for they had heard it before. "That sounds very familiar, sir," the fish said quietly, not wanting to drown out the soft voices, nor disturb their concentration.

"I know," Blue murmured back. The words sounded familiar, so familiar...

va tatharyam mykaal va tathar'yaanzi... va tatharyam, mykaal, va tathar'yaanzi... Va tatharyam, mykaal, va tathar'yaanzi... Va tatharyam, Mykaal, va...

"Oh, sir, that's it, that's it!" Minion shouted so loudly, he managed to make both his companions' ears ring, and came close to completely derailing his master's train of thought. "That's your name, sir! I'm sure of it!"

That revelation effectively put the brakes on the boy's concentration. He looked at Minion. "It is?" he said, eyes wide. He turned back to the image being produced by the sphere in his hand, what was now clearly a brief recording playing over and over again. He listened raptly, still unsure of all the words, but recognizing the one which had to be a name. "Mee-kahl?" he said softly, imitating the sounds, which put the emphasis on the second syllable. "Mykaal," he repeated, finding the word surprisingly easy to say, unlike some words of English. His wondering gaze returned to Minion. "My name is Mykaal?"

Minion nodded with his entire body, smiling toothily. "Yes, sir! I knew I'd heard your parents say it, but you weren't quite talking when we had to leave our planet, and after we came here, to Earth, I heard so many other words and names that I had to learn and remember, I got confused and forgot. But your parents named you Mykaal, sir. I'm sure of it, now."

While Blue kept whispering the word over and over, testing it on his tongue and in his thoughts and heart, his eyes slid back to watch the repeating record, studying how his parents said the name, how they sounded, how they looked when they spoke it.

Nearby, Nick smiled at Minion. "I can understand your problem, Minion," he empathized. "There must have been a lot of new names and words for you to learn, what with your pod landing in a prison, and this sounds a lot like one of our names, Michael. It's a pretty common name to boot."

"I know!" the fish groaned in dismay. "There must be at least half a dozen Michaels or Mikes among Sir's 'uncles' at the prison, I know three of the officers have that name, too, and I think there's one or two at Sir's class at school. Every time I heard someone say that name, it just drove the right one farther and farther out of my head!"

"It's okay, Minion," Blue assured him, stroking his friend with the finger still touching him. "You've had an awful lot to do, taking care of me, and now that I know, I don't mind not knowing sooner."

The fish's big eyes blinked in surprise. "You—you don't? Oh, but sir, this is something important, something you've been wanting to know for so long...!"

The blue head nodded. "I know. But that's why I don't mind. I think if you'd been able to tell me sooner, I would've gotten it mixed up, too, and let people call me Michael when that's not really my name. Now, I'm old enough to remember what's right, and..." He flushed sheepishly. "And I think maybe before, I would've wanted it to be Michael, just so there'd be some way that I was like other kids. I would've wanted to not be me. And like Mr. Nick said, that's not right." The smile he offered the man was oddly shy.

Nick was perplexed. "I'm glad you understand what I was trying to tell you, son, but you wanted to know the name your parents gave you — and now you don't want to use it? Is that what you're saying?"

Again, Blue nodded. "Sorta. It's not that I don't like it, 'cause I do. But... well, I have trouble saying some words."

It was Nick's turn to blink. "You do? It seems to me you say things as well as I do. Is this something else the kids tell you about yourself that isn't true?"

Blue shook his head. "I just have trouble with some words. Some don't feel right when I say them, some I think I come out wrong 'cause I taught myself to read, and I didn't find out that they don't sound the way they look until I started shool, some just... well, I get excited, an' they come out inside-out or upside-down or something. A lot of the kids make fun of me for that. So does my teacher."

He grimaced, as if he'd bitten down on a sweet candy only to find its taste repulsively bitter. "If I told her my name is Mykaal,she'd tell me I'm saying it wrong, and make me say Michael over and over to get it 'right.' And the rest of the class would tease me about it, no matter which way I say it. I don't want 'em to know. I don't want 'em to make fun of this." He looked up, the grimace replaced with uncertainty. "Is that okay, Mr. Nick? To keep this a secret, just for me and my friends?"

Nick's smile was full of warm understanding. "Of course it's okay. It's your name, and if you want to keep it private, that's your business and nobody else's. It wouldn't be right for your teacher or anyone else to tell you it's wrong just because it doesn't sound the way they think it should. If you want it this way, then that's the way it should be." His expression turned forlorn. "Am I one of your friends?"

Blue could tell he was exaggerating, and giggled. "Of course, Mr. Nick. I'm glad you and Minion knew first. I might tell a few of my uncles and some of the nice officers, like Officer Davis, but... maybe not. I gotta think about it."

"Yes, I think you should, sir," Minion approved, very relieved to have finally been able to provide his young charge with confirmation of something so precious. "You're right about the kids and Ms Driscoll making something bad of it. It's a good idea to be careful."

The boy rubbed his friend's head affectionately, still smiling. "Thanks, Minion. Do you want to keep watching, or should I close your ball?"

The fish considered things, then sighed. "I'd like to keep watching, but I'm getting a little cold."

Blue nodded his understanding. He retrieved the habitat's plug, and when Minion had gone under again, he closed it. Nick moved back in front of the pair, used the towel to wipe away any errant dribbles on Minion's globe, then wrapped the blankets around them once again, making a little hollow in the fabric so that Minion, half-covered, could nuzzle against Blue's slim body.

The young alien made a soft sound of contentment, snuggling into the covers even as he continued to watch the glowing recorder. There was something deeply satisfying and reassuring in listening to and watching the voices and images of his parents, softly speaking his name along with words that he was slowly beginning to remember and understand. Smiling, his face lit by the mesmerizing movement of the light, he laid his free hand atop Minion's globe and relaxed into sleep, listening to the lullaby of his parents' whispered voices.

Nick watched the unlikely pair for a while, digesting all the remarkable things that had happened that day, and the more remarkable fact that he, who had unwittingly been the keeper of a connection to an alien boy's past for six years, should happen upon him lying in a gutter, brokenhearted, on Christmas Eve. It was almost enough to make him believe that he was Santa Claus, if just for tonight. After a time, he noticed that Minion had also drifted off to sleep, and he began to think it was a good example to follow. It was getting late; he'd heard the clock bell from a distant church strike eleven. He stood up and was about to blow out the candles, some of which were already guttering, when he heard footsteps on the metal stairs outside.

Being careful not to wake his sleeping guests, he tiptoed to the door and peered through the grimy window to see who might be there. He recognized Dan Kolb, one of his friends from the mission, and loosed the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in a soft sigh of relief. As quietly and quickly as possible, he shrugged into his worn coat and hat, then opened the door just wide enough to slip outside, using his body to block the cold wind as much as possible so that it wouldn't get inside and wake his guests. Just as quickly, he closed the door behind him.

"What's up, Dan?" he asked the shorter, stockier fellow who had braved the still falling snows to seek him out. "Trouble?"

The visitor, one of the mission's regular volunteers, was as bundled against the elements as one could be. "I'm not sure. There were a couple of guys from the state around earlier this evening, looking for a lost kid. It thought it was kinda weird that the DOC would send out their trackers to hunt down a kid, but I knew Ron Schreiber for a couple of years, back in college. I don't remember him as being the type to go in for being hired muscle, so I asked him a few questions. He didn't give a lot of details, but he said the kid wasn't a convict, just lost. Said he's pretty young, only about six, and he got separated from his school group during a field trip this morning. A boy, skinny and bald, green eyes. He said the kid was sick, recovering from cancer treatment, which was why his folks were so worried about him, so desperate to find him. I told him I'd keep an eye out and didn't say anything more, since that sounded a lot like the info you gave me this afternoon, though not the part about the kid being sick. I thought that was just a sob story to get people to rat on the kid, thinking they were being helpful. I kept my mouth shut, but I think Ron or his partner must've picked up on something."

Up until the last remark, Nick had not been overly concerned. He had half suspected that there would be no mention of Blue's obvious alien attributes from anyone looking for him, but that they would stoop to pulling such a blatant sympathy card bothered him. It was a way to explain the boy's lack of hair, but still...! Now, he frowned. "Why? What happened?"

Dan shifted, trying to shake off the cold of the biting wind. "A couple more DOC guys showed up at the mission not half an hour ago, said they were following a lead they'd gotten on a boy they were trying to find. After what I heard from Schreiber and his partner, I was gonna just let 'em go hang. You didn't say anything about the kid being sick, and I know you wouldn't've left out something like that if it were true. But these two don't seem like the usual DOC snoops. I don't know if this kid they're after belongs to one of them, but they're sure acting like he is. Not angry, but worried, real worried, like they think he might've been picked up by the kind of perverts who go for little boys. I started thinking that maybe Schreiber was telling the truth about the kid recovering from chemo, and maybe you just didn't know 'cause the kid didn't tell you, or gave you some other excuse to cover the truth."

He snorted. "Hell, I had a kid sister who went through chemotherapy, and after the first couple of rounds, if she'd been strong enough, she would've run away just to avoid another treatment. I thought maybe this kid actually pulled it off — but if he really is sick, he shouldn't be out in shitty weather like this. He belongs back home in his bed, with his folks taking care of him. I slipped out when I could, while Sister Muriel was talking with them, and they're probably still back there."

Though he knew the truth about Blue, Nick understood then why Dan had come, even in the miserable weather. "Did these guys give you any names?"

"For the kid, no, which seems a little weird to me. They're Ralph Thurmer and Steven Davis. Ring any bells for you?"

Nick thought back over everything Blue had told him that day. He already recognized the name of the prison warden, as he'd heard it mentioned by some of the less savory street people with a criminal past; he also remembered that things both Blue and Minion had said about him indicated that he genuinely had the boy's best interests at heart. Davis, he recalled from other things Blue had said, was a prison guard, but one he didn't consider an enemy, as he had mentioned him as one of the people to whom he might entrust the precious secret of his real name. That they were out on the snowy streets at this hour on Christmas Eve, looking for Blue and not home safe and sound with their own families... Nick couldn't help but think that they honestly cared for Blue's welfare, though it was possible that they were merely desperate to hide the secret of the prison's resident alien child.

He made a decision. "Okay, Dan, thanks for telling me all of this. I think it might be all right to send those two over here — so long as it's just the two of them. No trackers or cops. You're right when you think this kid's been through holy hell, and I won't see him put through more of the same, especially not on Christmas. Tell them no guarantees. If he wants to go with them, that's fine, but if he doesn't... Just tell them that I know what's been going on with him, and I won't stand by and keep my mouth shut if they try to push it."

Dan's eyes widened with something bordering on shock. "Wow, that's pretty tough coming from you, Nick. You think these guys are child abusers?"

"Not them," Nick averred. "But the kid's been through rough times, and I want to be sure they don't make things worse."

Dan considered this, then nodded. "Okay, I'll tell 'em. Might take a bit for them to get here, with the streets a mess, but I'll let 'em know."

Nick was relieved. "Thanks, Dan," he said with a smile. "I always know I can count on you. Don't worry about any delay, it'll give me time to break the news to the little fellow and find out what he wants to do about it."

When Dan had headed off, trudging through the snow along the path he'd made to reach the empty warehouse, Nick quickly slipped back inside, glad for the meager warmth of the small heater after the bite of the wind-driven snow and cold. As he shucked his snowy coat, he looked at his peacefully slumbering guests. Relaxed in sleep, Blue's fingers curled gently around his two treasures, his guardian fish and the still softly glowing ball.

Thinking about the latter, Nick suspected that it had been deliberately ejected from Blue's pod when the tiny ship registered a crash. He remembered reading an article about how jet designers and the FAA had talked about the idea of having flight recorders automatically eject from crashing planes so that vital data about what had caused it could be more easily retrieved. Or maybe he'd read something like that in a science fiction story or had seen it in a movie. Whatever the case, Nick was now firmly convinced that the little record ball hadn't come off the pod by accident; it had been ejected by design because it was important, and carried information Blue's parents had wanted him — or his rescuers — to have a chance of finding when it appeared his tiny ship was crashing and might be badly damaged. He had a feeling that if things had gotten any worse, Blue himself would have been shot free of the pod, but for some reason, that threshold had never been reached. Why a data recorder would have been ejected first he didn't know, but he supposed that it might've been some minor malfunction in the systems, or perhaps an odd quirk of thinking in a people who valued knowledge. He rather doubted that last notion, though, since Blue's parents had saved him, an ignorant, innocent baby and not themselves.

Nick sighed, looking at the small smile of perfect contentment on the sleeping boy's face. If things had been different, he wouldn't have hesitated to adopt this charming little blue person and his well-mannered fish, but he had neither the resources to give him a proper home nor the strength that might well be needed to protect him from the rest of the world. Even if he'd been thirty years younger, it wouldn't have been easy, but at least then, he might've had the energy to take on the task, to give this unique child a real home.

Lacking that, he would make sure that at the very least, he would not be sending Blue back into a situation the boy could no longer tolerate. His plan decided, he shook Blue's shoulder, gently, not wanting him to wake abruptly, in fear.

"Blue?" he said softly. "Mykaal? C'mon, son, I know you're tired, but we need to talk. Blue?"

Just as Nick was beginning to think the child would not wake up until he was good and ready, Blue yawned, his big eyes blinking open, still heavy with sleep. "Mr. Nick?" he said, his voice slurred with drowsiness. "What's'matter?"

The man smiled apologetically. "I hate to wake you like this, son, but a friend of mine just came by, told me that there were people at the mission looking for you, two men named Thurmer and Davis. Do you know them?"

Blue, who had tensed a bit when Nick had said that he was being looked for, relaxed and yawned again, nodding. "That's th' Warden an' Officer Davis. Th' Warden gets strict sometimes, but he's okay, an' Officer Davis is nice, I like him. Did they come for me?"

"I told my friend to tell them you're here, so they're coming," Nick confirmed. "But if you don't want to go with them, I won't let them in. You don't have to go back to the prison unless you want to go."

He meant what he said, and hoped that the boy understood that. For a while, Blue said nothing; it looked as if he was more interested in going back to sleep. But his eyes had drifted down to the small glowing sphere still cupped in his right hand, and it was plain that he was thinking, deeply. "I don't want to live in a prison," he finally admitted, "but I don't know where I do want to live. I can't live by myself like you do, an'... well I guess there could be lots worse places. I have a place to sleep, there, food to eat, things to do. Minion doesn't have to be the only person keeping an eye on me, an' really, some of the people may be cranky an' nasty, but lots of others are pretty nice — lots better'n the kids at shool. I gotta go somewhere, I know I can't stay here with you. It's okay if the Warden an' Officer Davis want to take me home — unless the Warden's real mad at me," he added, suddenly worried. "Do you think he is?"

Nick shrugged. "I suppose he might be, but from what my friend told me, he's just worried that something bad happened to you. Lost kids sometimes get picked up by crazy characters who won't think twice about hurting them." Blue knew enough about such things to be very glad that he hadn't been found by such a person. Nick let loose a big breath. "Well, then, if that's decided, let's see if your things are all dry and get you ready to go. It's pretty cold and nasty out there, and I want to make sure you can stay warm and comfortable until you get home." It sent a pang through Nick's heart to think that "home" for Blue was a prison, but for now, there was nothing else that could be done about it. At least there, the people in charge wanted to keep the alien boy safe from the worst crazies this world had to offer.

When Blue was once again in his new clothes — having set aside Minion very carefully, as the exhausted fish was still snoring softly, his small body flipped into a strange belly-up position — Nick helped him into his coat and hat. Blue touched the cap Nick had brought back from the mission as it was placed on his head. "Do you still have the red one I was wearing before?" he asked, worried that it might have been lost. "The Warden let me borrow it, and I promised to take care of it. I didn't mean to let it get ruined."

"I'm sure you didn't," Nick consoled. "And if Dan was right, I think he'll be too happy to find you safe to worry about something like a silly hat. But I still have it here, don't you worry, and your torn pants. A little washing and mending, and they'll both be good as new. If he can't find someone to manage it, just have him send the work to me," Nick added with a wink.

Blue giggled at his little joke. Dressed and ready, he settled back into his chair to wait. Nick returned the snoozing Minion to his lap, then went to bring out a few new candles, to replace the ones that had gone out. In the gloom, Blue pulled his little ball from the pocket in which he had safely secreted it; he took off one mitten to hold it in his bare palm, and was gratified to see the soft lights return, along with the images of his parents. Idly, he wondered if the thing held any other secrets for him to find, but decided that mystery could wait to be solved on another day. He returned the ball to his pocket, put on the mitten he'd removed, and slumped down a bit, soaking up the warmth from the heater.

The clock at the distant church had rung midnight and Blue was once again fast asleep when at last, Nick — who had been nodding off a bit, himself — heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. He got up and shuffled to the window; after rubbing away a bit of the frost and dirt, he saw a big SUV rolling up the drive to the empty loading pads. From the way it was able to make good headway despite the deep snow, he was sure the thing was equipped for off-road driving with full four wheel drive. Sensible, Nick though, for anyone wanting to get around in this lake-effect blizzard. When the vehicle came to a stop beside the steps to the entrance, Nick grabbed his coat again to ward off the cold as he leaned out the door, gesturing for the two men to come inside.

"I'll wait here and keep things running," he heard the one behind the wheel say. The other man nodded, then headed up the steps.

"Ralph Thurmer," he introduced himself when they were inside. "You're Nick Cabela?" At the nod of confirmation, the warden smiled. "I've heard of you. Friends on the force call you the Backstreet Santa, do a lot of good for the homeless kids, especially around this time of year."

"I do what I can, with help," Nick was proud to admit. "I just wish it could be more."

"It was plenty, today," Thurmer said, his face a picture of concern and relief when he spotted the sleeping Blue. "Is he all right?" he asked stepping up quickly to examine the boy.

"A bump on the noggin and a scraped knee, nothing worse," Nick assured him. "He was more scared and upset, poor little guy, thinking he'd lost his friend there. It's been a rough day for him."

The warden nodded. "I've heard some of it already. Don't worry, I know that none of this was Blue's fault. He won't get punished for it. If we're lucky, the ones who are responsible will catch it but good." After checking the boy ever so carefully, he looked up at the older man. "Thank you for taking care of him, Mr. Cabela. Ron Schreiber told us how protective everyone at that mission was when he came asking about Blue. I don't know how much they knew about him being an alien, but it's a lot that you cared for his welfare enough to get them to care. Not many would do that."

Nick smiled crookedly, mildly embarrassed by the praise. "He's just a child, when all is said and done, Mr. Thurmer, a very sweet and smart little boy. It won't be easy for him, growing up in a world like ours, but he deserves a chance to at least try to find his way. He can't ever do that if folks won't give him that chance just because of the color of his skin."

The warden nodded, in full agreement. He straightened from where he had been examining Blue and offered Nick his hand. As they shook, in thanks and a mute agreement to pray for Blue's uncertain future, Thurmer's spoken words were sincere. "Anything you need, just ask and it's yours, Mr. Cabela. I think in the eyes of heaven, you've earned any reward that's in my power to give."

Nick's smile took on a mischievous twinkle. "I'll have to give it some thought. Seeing Blue get back with folks who care about him and can give him proper care is enough for now. Though I've still got a hankering for a new pair of winter boots. Maybe a better space heater, too, 'specially if I start making a habit of taking in lost kids and their talking fish."

The warden chuckled, mindful of the sleeping pair nearby. "I'll see what I can do. I might even be able to find some real paying work, if you want it."

"If it's work a tired old man can do, I'm game. Do you need a hand?" he asked as Thurmer started searching for the best way to lift Blue without disturbing him.

After studying the problem, the warden nodded. "If you can bring Minion, I think this will be easier. I wouldn't want to drop the poor thing, not after he took that dive off the Crosstown Overpass today."

Nick gladly took charge of the exhausted fish, who didn't so much as twitch as his globe was lifted from his master's lap. "Oh, I've got this for you, too," he said, remembering the dirtied cap he'd stuffed into one pocket while helping Blue get ready to leave. "The boy didn't want to leave it, but he was afraid you'd be upset that it got damaged. Looks to me like one of them kamikaze delivery truckers did the damage, not him."

Thurmer saw the telltale tire marks on the thing, nodding his agreement. "Someday, I'd like to hear the whole story of what he's been through today — but not today. He's all right; that's the only thing that really matters."

That said, he slipped his hands under Blue's arms and lifted him from the chair, hiking him up in his arms so that the blue head head rested against his shoulder while the rest of his slim body leaned forward against the man's broader chest, his thin legs tucked around Thurmer's waist.

At the gentle jostling, the big green eyes blinked open. "Warden?" Blue asked sleepily, recognizing the man's familiar scent. "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, Blue," he assured the boy, his gruffness wholly a disguise. "We're going home now."

"You're not mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. We can talk about it later." If at all.

That satisfied the boy. "Okay." He shifted a bit to get more comfortable, and saw Nick holding Minion. "Are you coming, too, Mr. Nick?" he asked around a yawn.

"Only as far as the car," Nick said, not without regret. "It was a pleasure meeting you, son, and Minion. You've brought a little light into a pretty dull place. A Merry Christmas, to both of you."

Blue smiled drowsily. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Nick," he echoed, in his sleepiness heavily pronouncing the typically silent T. "An' you, too, Warden."

Thurmer smiled. "Same to you, Blue."

"Mykaal."

The warden's brown eyes blinked. "What?"

It seemed as if the boy's jaw might unhinge, so impossibly huge was his yawn. "Tha's m'name. My real name. Mykaal. Jus' don't tell anyone, 'kay? 'S a secret. Jus' for friends. Right, Mr. Nick?"

Nick grinned. "Right, Mykaal. Just for friends." He said that with a meaningful look for the warden.

Thurmer couldn't stop his eyes from misting at this unexpected display of trust. He hoped to God that somehow, nothing would happen to spoil it. "A secret. You've got it, Blue — I mean, Mykaal. I won't tell, I promise. And Merry Christmas to you, too."

Content to know that his secret would be kept and life would soon be back to comparative normal — with one or two little changes — Blue settled his head against the warden's warm shoulder and smiled to himself. He was asleep again before they even reached the car, the smile seeming to have taken up permanent residence upon his small blue face.

TBC...