Posie had eaten six burgers, two orders of fries, and had had his milkshake filled three times! It was no wonder The Man in the Gray Suit would not let him eat here—he would get fat. He wasn’t full yet, but was feeling poorly. He decided to busy himself with schoolwork of his own. He had his pen and marble book so began to write about Scruffy, and Mom, and the mean junkyard man, and the Greyhound Lady, the soft squishy boy with the crocked hat, and beautiful Ellen and her smiling Aunt Jane.

Soon a nice looking blonde haired lady in a police uniform approached him with a smile and spoke to him, “Hello Posie, I am Officer Murphy. How are you doing?”

“Homework. School won’t let me in so I am making up my own homework.”

“Where are your parents Posie?”

“My Mom left yesterday, like she was not coming back—crying and slamming her car door.”

“May I sit down Posie?”

He smiled invitingly and she sat down across from him. “Posie, where is your father?”

“I don’t have one of those—most of them don’t do their jobs anyhow. Mom says they’re all poopers.”

“What is your mother’s name?”

“Mom.”

“Where do you live Posie?”

“In the brick house across from the ugly green house that has a chip in the living room windowsill—from me I’m afraid. I climb the house, and I think that is why Mom ran away.”

“Posie, where do you go to school?”

“I’m home schooled. That’s why, with Mom gone, I tried to get into school. I’m special and require strict discipline, rote training, Pavlovian conditioning and creatively imagined instruction, if I’m to fulfill my role.”

The Nice Lady now seemed worried and she shifted as she asked, “Posie, do you have a baby sitter or tutor, or another type of guardian?”

“Oh yes, The Man in the Gray Suit!”

She smiled hopefully and continued, “And what is his name Posie?”

“The Man in the Gray Suit does not have a name—he is function personified. He’s just The Man in the Gray Suit!”

The Nice Lady was now plainly frightened, a look of worry wandering lonely and lost across her pretty face, only to settle on her lips, which pouted sadly.

And she was there, the Golden Woman who he had seen from afar lounging by the pool behind The Man in the White Suit’s house. Taller than a man, prettier than a girl, with skin like the sun and hair like liquid night, she stepped up to the Nice Lady and spoke to her as if they were long acquainted. She spoke in a voice that would look like inky bubble bath if you could see it, “Officer Murphy, thank you so much for looking after Posie. His counselor is out of state on business and his tutor and live-in caregiver has abruptly resigned. Here are my credentials and the documents concerning Posie Senski’s guardianship under Executive Outcomes Orphan Outreach. I’m sure you shall find that everything is in order.”

What had been laid down on the table in front of the nice lady police was a photo of this beautiful exotic woman and two blank pieces of paper. Officer Murphy though seemed to see something else, “Wow, former U.S. Marshall…So Executive Outcomes Orphan outreach provides foster care for the children of foreign nationals lost in action as DOD contractors. That’s so humane. I had no idea…”

The lady police was drifting off into a trance and was awakened and brought into a very alert and in-control state of mind by what appeared to be nothing but a whisper blown from the tall lady’s ruby lips. The lady officer stood up and looked at Posie with a vacant eyes-wide smile and said, “You have such a nice foster mother Posie. She is a very busy and important woman. Please, in the future, don’t tell any more fibs about her running away.”

Officer Murphy then turned to the woman as she stood and towered over her, and said breathlessly, “Why Miss Hesperia, I so hope we meet again. Here is my card. Please consider me for…consideration.”

Handing off her card in a clumsy fashion, the officer marched off past the counter, nodded to Aunt Jane, and left in a hurry.

The towering woman then looked down at Posie as a dragon once surely looked down upon a thief who had filched a gem from its horde, and smiled as her thoughts echoed potently in his mind, Posie Senski, I am Tina Hesperia, your handler—effectively your mother—under orders of The Man in the Gray Suit, on behalf of The Man in the White Suit. Do not strike out on your own without authorization again.

Out loud she said, “Oh Posie-Boo, I have so missed you!”

As she spoke her pretty painted hand squeezed the back of the chair. Posie could hear the plastic groan in a squeaking way beneath her fingers. She looked at him meaningfully as she withdrew her hand, which had left a deep impression in the solid seat frame, not of fingers, but of a great bird of prey’s talons.”

She then put her hand on the top of his head and walked him by the counter, smiling to portly Aunt Jane, as some strange man slavishly opened the door for them as if Tina were the Queen of the World and the big bearded fellow in flannel shirt and work boots were one of her loyal knights.

Tina walked him to an amazing black sports car with mud flaps decorated with geisha girls and bunny ears and she whispered, “Get in you little shit. You are moving to Father’s house. But first you must prove yourself worthy—training is going live in a half hour so condor up.”

“Yes Mam,” he said as they took their seats in the exotic race car.

As her jade earrings dangled, and her purple dress seemed to shimmer like some serpent made of flower breath, she cast him a hard piercing look with one almond-shaped black on-pearl eye, and snarled silently with her shapely lip as a black panther must surely smile at a cornered monkey. “Tina or Mother; no other moniker is acceptable—how is your dynamic range management?”

“The Man in the Gray Suit says I’ve broken the ninety-fifth percentile.”

She shook her head in apparent hurt dismay and reached into the glove box and laid a large pair of scissors on his lap. She then eyed him critically and spoke slowly and with intensity, “Ninety is the basement. Ninety-five is the ground floor. We’re shooting for the penthouse. It’s a hundred or nothing. Buckle up Posie-Boo. I’ve got a job for you.”

“Wow, a job!”

She smiled as the car zoomed out into traffic and his mind slithered with a thought, Stealth and discretion to and from the objective—in other words, shut the fuck up kid.

Yes mother.

Learn to capitalize that M in your mind.

Yes Mother.