Chapter Eight:

Home, Sweet Home

Dad gasses up the taxi while Pockets goes back to his house to get his suitcase. A thick layer of dirt and grime and things that look like barnacles cover the car. Now I understand why Dad washes his taxi every day.

When Pockets shows up at the landing field, he doesn’t have anything with him. I hope he hasn’t changed his mind.

“Aren’t you still coming home with us?” I ask.

He nods.

“Then where’s all your stuff?”

He pats his chest and belly. “Right here.”

I laugh. “Those are some big pockets!”

Pockets grins, then goes over to his father and nuzzles him under the neck. His father nuzzles him back.

“We’ll take good care of him,” my dad promises. “And I’ll make sure he checks in with you daily.”

“He’s very good at that,” the chief says, getting a little teary. He gives his son one final nuzzle, then turns his attention to Dad. “Now, Morningstar, when you’re on a mission, Pilarbing Fang—I mean, Pockets is in command. During off-hours, you are in control. I’ll be meeting with my staff tomorrow to figure out how to make the best use of you.”

Watching Dad awkwardly shake the chief’s paw is kind of funny. I don’t think it would be polite to laugh, though, so I turn it into a cough.

When we get into the taxi, the voice coming out of the invisible speakers is screeching like someone who just stepped with bare feet on hot sand. “This is Home Base!” the voice squeaks angrily. “Morningstar, do you hear me? Repeat, do you hear me?”

“She doesn’t sound happy, Dad.”

“I’ve been avoiding calling in,” Dad admits. “How could I tell them that my fare turned out to be a criminal and was arrested and I had to make an unscheduled stop with him out cold in my backseat?”

“What did you just say?” the voice screeches in an even higher pitch than usual.

“Oops,” Dad says. “Guess I left the com line open.” He clears his throat. “Hello, Home Base. I’ll explain everything when I get back. Morningstar out.” He leans over and turns off the knob just as she screeches, “Oh, no you don’t, mister!”

Dad winks and asks, “Are you boys strapped in?”

“Yup,” I say.

“Indeed I am,” Pockets replies.

As we take off, I turn to Dad and ask, “Why does that Home Base lady have such a squeaky voice? She kinda sounds like a mouse.”

Dad laughs. “Not kinda like a mouse. She IS a mouse!”

At that, Pockets’s ears perk up. “A mouse?” he says. “I’ve never seen a real one!”

“Don’t get any ideas back there,” Dad warns, but he’s smiling. “That mouse is my boss. That means you two will be working together very closely, Pockets. And that means no eating each other.”

Pockets mutters something that sounds like “I’d like to see her try to eat me.” Then he reaches into one of his pockets, pulls out a full-size pillow (!), and curls up for a nap.

While he sleeps, Dad and I finally eat the breakfasts Mom packed for us. I gobble down three delicious pancakes. Penny only eats things that start with the letter P, so we have a lot of pancakes. I’ll eat pretty much anything except broccoli, because why would I want to eat something that looks like a tree? We clink thermoses before taking sips. After traveling millions of light-years from home, my hot chocolate is still warm!

I spend the rest of the trip exploring my map. If I turn it in different directions, it shows me all sorts of amazing things. I can’t wait to see what pops up on my next trip. I direct us into the right wormhole to get us back. This time I try to keep my eyes open, even on the stomach-churning parts. The bright colors streak by on all sides. One of them—the red streak—moves more slowly than the rest. A second later it’s right next to the taxi. I push my face against the window to get a better look. Then I jump back in surprise.

A tiny red alien in a tiny bubble-shaped spaceship just WAVED at me! I blink and he’s gone. I shake my head. “Um, Dad? Did you happen to see a little red alien outside my window?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. But all these lights can play tricks on your eyes.”

“I guess you’re right,” I say, peering into the emptiness around us.

“You did a great job today, Archie,” Dad says. “I’m very proud of you.” He reaches over and ruffles my hair.

Normally that would embarrass me, but now it just makes me feel good. “Thank you for trusting me to be your copilot, Dad.”

He grins. “When I promised you tonight would be an adventure, I had no idea how right I would be.”

I grin back. “Yeah, Dad, you left out a lot of stuff about tonight.”

He laughs, then gets serious. “I wanted to tell you everything, Archie. But I had to wait until you were old enough to understand. I think you and I make a great team.”

I glance into the backseat at the sleeping cat. We’re a team of three now.

Once I get us back through Earth’s atmosphere, I roll up my map. I wish I had some way to carry it with me. It’s not the kind of thing I can just stick in my pocket, like a certain cat I know. I need a way to keep it safe.

As we get closer to Earth, I see a single bright star hanging alone in the sky, glittering like a diamond. Suddenly I know exactly what I need. I reach behind me and feel around on the floor until I find my tube from Grandpa. I pop open the top and slide the map inside. A perfect fit!

“I was waiting for you to figure that out,” Dad says, smiling. Then he points east at a ball of light. “Do you know what that is?”

“It’s Venus, right? The Morning Star?”

“Indeed it is.” Dad aims the taxi so I have the perfect view out the front window. The air around Venus glows with the light of the rising sun. Maybe my last name isn’t so bad. After all, it’s the name of a long line of space taxi drivers. And also copilots. And now honorary Intergalactic Security Force deputies saving the universe from the evil B.U.R.P., which, when you think about it, is a much worse name than mine.