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Chapter 12 – Tourist Trap
The fourth full day of Padmé and the twins' asylum on Tatooine began as the first three did. Owen was up before the binary sunrise, Beru began culinary multi-tasking soon after, and their guests were free to rise at their leisure. The young family had taken advantage of the luxury, sleeping until 0900 hours on average. But that morning, just a half hour past sunrise, Beru turned from the oven to find Padmé standing in the kitchen doorway.
"Oh!" she held a hand to her chest. "Padmé, you're up earlier than usual!"
"Shh, I don't want to wake the children," Padmé whispered. "Sorry to startle you, but I figured now was the best time we could talk alone… if it's not an imposition."
"Not at all, if you don't mind me bustling around a little," Beru reached for a ball of dough to knead.
Padmé seated herself at the table. "That's fine. This conversation may be easier without full eye contact anyway."
Beru dropped the dough. "What's the matter?"
"I haven't been sleeping well, for starters."
"Who can blame you? You're not exactly here for rest and relaxation," Beru said gently.
"It's not just that. It's Luke and Leia."
"Don't tell me they knocked over another dew condenser jug."
"No… we had a long talk about that," Padmé grimaced. "It won't happen again."
"Then what is it?"
Fiddling with the corner of a napkin, Padmé avoided Beru's concerned eyes. "On the flight over here, they said things that have been eating at me ever since."
Beru abandoned her mixing bowls and sat down. "Tell me."
"We know daddy's not dead.
"You told Aunt Breha that Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru don't like daddy. I can tell from the way you said it that he's not dead."
"I'm such a terrible mother," Padmé buried her face in her hands. "I should have known they'd figure it out if I wasn't more careful…"
"What are you talking about?"
"They saw right through the lies, Beru! They know he's still alive!" To her, neither of his names seemed appropriate, so she relied on pronouns. She knew Beru wouldn't need clarification.
The color drained from Beru's face. "What? How…?"
"A slip of the tongue!" Padmé lamented. "Not that they wouldn't catch on eventually, being so damn Force-sensitive. What was I thinking, trying to spoon-feed them information on my terms?"
"If they're that sensitive, I'd say you did fairly well these past five years," Beru tried to hearten her.
"But they're still too young for this! And they know I lied to them… I swear they haven't looked at me the same since!"
"There now, I'm sure it's not that severe. Guilt can make us imagine things sometimes."
"Maybe. But my insomnia sure isn't imaginary."
The two women stared at the same imperfection on the table's surface, lost in unpleasant thought.
"I wish I knew what to say, Padmé. If Owen and I were able to have children, I might have a bit of wisdom to share. I'm sorry I don't."
Padmé shook her head. "Just having you listen is enough. You're one of very few people who understand."
"Then take it from someone who understands: you did the best you could."
"That's small comfort to Luke and Leia right now."
Beru clasped her sister-in-law's hands in her own. "You were hardly dealt the best of hands, Padmé. I don't know of any other women, myself included, who'd have handled it with half the strength and poise you did."
"Really? Where was my strength and poise when I lay sobbing at your door days after they were born?"
"It was most present then. You didn't shut down or give up. You had the fortitude to do what had to be done for their safety."
Padmé huffed a dry laugh. "I channeled all my efforts into protecting them physically, but when it came to their hearts…"
"You protected those admirably also," Beru insisted. "Like you said, it was inevitable that they'd learn the truth. You may think it's too early, but the Force obviously doesn't."
"I might take it better if they weren't asking to see him!"
"Uncle Obi-Wan and I only want to keep you and Luke safe. It might not make sense now but it will someday, I promise.
Will we get to see daddy someday too?
I wish you could, but I don't think that can ever happen.
Why not? … Just because Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru don't like him?"
Wiping away a tear of frustration, Padmé slumped in her chair. "They think the only reason they can't is because you and Owen dislike him. Honestly! It's all just petty grown-up drama to them! They don't understand!"
Beru's brow pinched at hearing this. "That is unfortunate."
"I've been walking on eggshells the past few days, wondering if they'll bring it up again."
"Hmm…" the wheels of Beru's mind began to turn. "Being cooped up here surely isn't helping."
"Tell me about it. The dew condenser jug proves they're running out of ways to entertain themselves."
"And I'm running out of chores for you to help me with."
"Any bright ideas?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," Beru smirked a little. "How does a day trip to Anchorhead sound?"
"Anchorhead?" Padmé looked dubious. "Isn't that two sandstorms away from becoming a ghost town?"
"It's boomed since you were last here. There's an arcade and a few other tourist traps."
Better than nothing, I suppose. "We can give it a try."
"Good. If Luke and Leia enjoy it, I'll talk Owen into letting me go with you once or twice a week."
"Won't he need you around?"
"This time of year is slow for us anyway. Besides, he can fend for himself once in a while. The larder's full."
"If you're sure," Padmé smiled graciously.
"Absolutely. Just let me finish these few recipes and we'll be out of here in no time," Beru rose and shoved some pans in the oven. "This trip will be just what you need. You'll see."
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To Padmé's amazement, Anchorhead had indeed grown since her last visit. Many of the condemned buildings had been renovated and new construction projects were even underway. Adding to the charm was a small carnival they fortuitously stumbled upon. Luke and Leia were enthusiastic about the trip to begin with, and this tipped them into full-blown euphoria.
Sitting on a shaded bench, Beru and Padmé watched the twins spin around on a ride their stomachs would likely regret riding. For now, however, their faces were wild with ecstatic glee.
Beru took a sip of her flavored ice drink. "I told you they'd love it! Just what the doctor ordered."
"We got lucky… the carnival isn't always in town, is it?"
"I wouldn't know. Owen's usually the one who drives out here."
"Oh," replied Padmé absently, eyes darting as she looked over her shoulder.
Beru frowned. "Is something wrong?"
"Hm?"
"You keep looking behind you."
Luke and Leia's playful squeals brought Padmé back to her senses. "I don't know why I'm so paranoid. This is the last place anyone would recognize me, but I still can't shake this feeling…"
"You're just not used to letting your guard down," Beru offered.
"Maybe that's it. I hope that's all," Padmé hugged herself tightly.
"I'm sure it is. Look, the ride's over – let's make sure Luke and Leia find a bucket if they need one!"
Miraculously, neither twin did. Padmé envied their Force-fortified constitutions. As the afternoon progressed, they twirled and spun so many times that just watching them made the women feel ill. Once their appetites returned, it took Padmé's best negotiating skills to get the twins to a diner that served things other than fried dough and cotton candy.
Some daylight remained by the time they finished dinner. With both children infatuated with plush banthas they'd won earlier, Beru and Padmé dragged them from one curiosity shop to the next, hunting bargains and treasures galore.
The evening's lazy pace finally started to soften Padmé's anxiety. A sundress here, a storybook there, and a handful of gaudy jewelry seemed to be the perfect formula to calm her worries.
She was all but cured of her distress when they entered one last store. They'd saved it for last for good reason – the merchandise was cheap, with a target clientele of gullible tourists who wanted a kitschy memento from Tatooine. The aisles smelled of Corellian tobacco and failure.
Naturally, Luke and Leia loved the place. Padmé kept a steady eye on them as Luke chased his sister with a sarlacc puppet, which she combated with a krayt dragon figurine.
"Not much here I can't live without," Beru mumbled to her companion.
"Me either," Padmé squeezed a Jabba stress ball. "Let's give the kids a few more minutes and then head out."
"Oh, I bet Owen would love this," Beru said sarcastically, holding a miniature-sized moisture vaporator. "It's a soap dispenser!"
"Perfect for his birthday!"
"And this sand globe is really a fine piece of art," Beru shook it to simulate a sandstorm.
"For the person who has everything," Padmé laughed. "Or lost everything in a real sandstorm!"
"You're terrible."
"Not half as terrible as this Tuscan Raider magnet!"
"That is pretty awful."
"Would you buy me this binary star t-shirt if I asked nicely?"
"You might regret it, with the way those suns are positioned!"
"The sunspots are strategically placed too."
"And all for just fifteen credits! What a steal!"
They giggled wickedly for another minute or two, and then Padmé checked her wrist chrono.
"All right kids, time to go," she called in the direction she'd seen them last.
Beru rose on her tiptoes, peering between the shelves. "I think I see them three aisles down."
"You take the right, and I'll take the left," Padmé conspired.
Her two-pronged attack was foolproof. With nowhere to escape, the frisky five-year-olds would have no choice but to let the adults escort them out. Padmé might even be persuaded to buy them the puppet and dragon toy if they went peacefully.
That thought turned to dust the instant she rounded the corner. Without warning, she came face-to-face with the most horrid, garish display in the entire store. It was as if the owner knew how to arrange it squarely at her eye level.
Cast in resin were two small tall figures mounted on a base. The character on the right was clutching its throat, terrified eyes staring at a five-inch-tall version of Darth Vader. The latter's outstretched arm wasn't quite proportioned right, but its action was obvious.
Padmé blanched. Someone's sick, twisted idea of a joke…
An attention-getting flyer hung in front of the display. In bold, neon lettering, it listed the toy's many novel features.
"Genuine die-cast Geonosian resin!"
"Reenact the Dark Lord's carnage on your coffee table!"
"Comes with CLOTH detachable cape!"
"Lightsaber glows when button is pushed!"
"Click Vader's helmet to say three phrases:
'Don't make me destroy you.'
'Apology accepted.'
'If you only knew the power of the Dark Side.'"
Emitting a heart-wrenching cry, Padmé felt her knees buckle.
Moments later, when her children tore down the aisle with Beru in close pursuit, they found her collapsed on the tiled floor. Luke and Leia came to an uncertain halt several steps from their mother, who was sobbing into a plush Hutt doll.
Beru was too triumphant upon catching them to immediately notice Padmé's sad state.
"Padmé, there you are! What happened to my backup?"
"Mommy's sad," Leia mildly scolded her aunt.
"Oh! Padmé, are you all right?" Beru rushed to her side. "Are you hurt?"
Shaking her head, Padmé raised a distraught face and pointed at the incriminating shelf.
Beru bit her lip, wanting to cover Luke and Leia's eyes. "Oh my stars… of all the wretched things to sell…"
"Cool!" Luke grabbed one and started randomly pressing buttons. A flurry of audio clips played over each other as the lightsaber flashed on and off.
"Don't make me – the power of the – apology accept – accepted – d-destroy you–"
"LUKE! Put that down!" Beru half screamed, swiping it from his hands.
The boy flinched at her seemingly unprovoked anger. "I wasn't gonna break it!"
"You and Leia go stand over there for a minute. And. Don't. Move," she directed them toward the magazines.
"Yes ma'am," Luke muttered, exchanging a perplexed look with his sister.
Disgusted, Beru shelved the detestable item and helped Padmé to her feet.
"What a horrible thing to stock!" she commiserated. "I have half a mind to speak with the owner!"
"Please, no. I want to go home," sniffed Padmé.
"Well, I may come back on my own sometime and have a word with him."
"Do whatever you want… can we please just leave?"
"Of course," Beru beckoned the twins and the four of them headed out the door brusquely.
Padmé smeared away the rest of her tears as they approached the transport station, not wanting her children – or fellow passengers – to see her so unhinged. It would take monumental restraint to keep her composure all the way back to the homestead, but she'd do it somehow. She had to. Luke and Leia were staring at her with far too much concerned curiosity as it was.
Please don't ask me why I broke down in there… please… she begged earnestly. See? Mommy's done crying now, so everything's fine. We'll all go back and have warm tea before bed, and you'll remember only the good parts of today.
Her stomach turned as she recognized the look in Leia's eyes. Her daughter was seconds away from asking a question. Any moment now…
Providentially, a mechanic pulled up on a speeder just then. The small group of hopeful travelers knew this was a bad omen.
"Sorry to tell you folks, but the last transport out has been cancelled. Engine problems."
A collective moan rose from the crowd.
"Safe-N-Sandy Carriers apologizes for the inconvenience, and is willing to give you all vouchers for one free night at the Mirage Motel."
Beru pursed her lips in defeat. "Guess I'd better contact Owen and let him know."
"We're staying here tonight?" Leia tugged on Padmé's cloak.
"Yes honey. There's no other way home."
"Cool," Luke asserted once again. "I like this place!"
That makes one of us, Padmé glanced at Beru ruefully.
The Skywalker party migrated toward the illustrious Mirage Motel and soon found themselves in a small but cozy room. Two lumpy mattresses awaited the adults. The twins fought for mutual territory on a narrow pull-out sofa bed. Despite their protesting, both fell asleep within minutes, leaving Padmé and Beru to whisper in the dark.
"I'm so embarrassed for causing that scene," Padmé repented.
"Don't worry about it. Are you okay now?"
"I… I'm not sure. It hit me so suddenly. It's just been so long since I last saw…"
"I know, I know," Beru consoled. "You don't have to explain."
"Ironically, I've done too good a job of blocking him from our lives. It's easy to forget how real the evil is. Just because it's out of sight doesn't mean it's gone anywhere."
"It's just a tasteless toy, Padmé. It can't hurt you or the children."
Padmé rubbed her temples. "It's not just the toy. I feel like I've been on the brink of breaking down for months now. I don't know if I can do this anymore… how much longer I'll hold out."
One of the twins rolled over, making Padmé fear she'd woken them. She sighed with relief when silence followed.
"Don't despair, Padmé," Beru encouraged. "Those twins are proof that all good hasn't been snuffed out of the universe."
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Several sectors away, another day of sightseeing was drawing to a close, but the points of interest were far less banal than Anchorhead's shops. None of the Zygerrians who gave Vader a wide berth would've guessed his reasons for touring the planet were sentimental in nature. Nor would they have believed the man accompanying him was a relative with whom he was attempting to bond. The very idea was heretical, and likely to land one in prison, or at least a mental institution.
Not that the situation wasn't equally disconcerting to Vader. To maintain appearances, he'd cuffed Ainar with unlocked wrist binders, pretending to lead him through the streets toward imprisonment. Ainar found the arrangement a little odd, but for the sake of harmony, he cooperated. The cuffs didn't hinder his ability to guide his son from one location to another. He was still able to narrate the highlights of their route.
Both he and Vader were glad to see much of the bombed district had been rebuilt. The original infrastructure had been thoroughly reconstructed. To Ainar's astonishment, the replica of the stately townhouse in which he'd been born looked identical. In his hasty homecoming last week, he hadn't the time to stroll through these old neighborhoods; doing so now with his son in tow left him nearly speechless.
He managed to pronounce the key areas of importance. The slab of sidewalk where he and Shmi had first crossed paths. The Basic Skills classroom – now a bakery – where they officially met. The fountain where they shared their first kiss. And lastly, the zenith of all sites: the humble patch of grass on which they'd exchanged wedding vows, shaded by two crimson-leafed trees overlooking a duck pond.
"Most slaves were lucky to get a backyard ceremony, if one at all," Ainar leaned against one of the trees wistfully. "We truly had the best owners. They cared for us almost like their own children."
Reminiscing, Ainar didn't notice his son's agitation. Only when he turned from the pond's calm waters did he sense Vader's discomfort.
"Are you not feeling well? Should we return to the ship?"
Vader crossed and uncrossed his arms while digging his heels into the mud.
"You… married by the water."
"Yes," Ainar restated the obvious.
"By the water…" Vader sounded as if he was talking in his sleep.
Ainar's prowess with the Force was yet untamed, but Vader's signals were intense enough to project a half-formed picture in his mind. A balcony… cool, aromatic breezes from the lake below… sunset, robes, and lace… dark curls covered in lace…
His jaw fell open. There was only one way to interpret what he saw.
"You… you were…" he stuttered, incapable of saying it.
"Married." Vader breathed heavily.
Ainar stared in unabashed wonder. If he thought he had questions before…
"Where is she now?"
A day spent with this man had impacted Vader in ways even he didn't yet realize. Faint was the urge to break Ainar's vocal chords for daring to ask this. More incredible still were the words Vader's own vocal chords were about to form. It sounded like another voice saying them.
"You have shared the private details of your past, pain and all. I will return the favor tomorrow when we travel to Tatooine."
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Had waaay too much fun with this chapter. Even the GFFA has tacky tourist traps… who knew?
BTW, Jabba stress balls were actually conceptualized for marketing, but Lucas pulled the plug before they were ever made. Shame!
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