Fractal art by the author, Deeann D. Mathews
“OK, so just hear me out, Cousin Harry – we want you and Cousin Maggie to move down here, but we also may need to save some room on the cul-de-sac for other things.”
Col. H.F. Lee had been deep in tense thoughts when his nine-year-old cousin George Ludlow, George's six-year-old brother Grayson, and nine-year-old Milton Trent rom next door had come up to him with their request.
“See, the thing is, when the aliens come, we want them to feel welcome, so what we want to do is use this section of the cul-de-sac for a parking lot, and what we want to do is put a sign up that says, 'Spacecraft parking only!'” Milton said.
“Here's our blueprint,” Grayson said, and handed his big cousin what he had drawn on blue construction paper with white crayon.
“Your blueprints are always so clear and detailed, Grayson,” the colonel said gently. “Thank you.”
Grayson for a six-year-old actually did do good spatial drawings of his surroundings, and the colonel could make out what the boys wanted to do compared with the house he was planning to have built on the empty lot.
What was so interesting about this little interaction was that the colonel had just gotten the letter informing him when the Big Loft Police Department was going under conservatorship, and thus, in the resulting reorganization, when his position as police captain was going to be phased out. Since the neighborhoods his precinct served had been burned to the ground just before his coming, and since during the pandemic there was no chance of a rebuild, the Blue Ridge Precinct was going to be rolled into Western, and under the new budget, Special Investigations was superfluous as well.
So, the colonel had been considering his next move … money was not a concern, but he needed work to keep his active mind and mental health together … but then again, he already was a trustee for the Lofton Trust, and it would really be no problem to go full-time because of issues like his cousins and their friend had presented him.
“Well, gentlemen, this is a land-use type of thing. When we have situations like this, we have to think about what is most important to us and what is a priority, and if we can make both things happen.”
Milton looked at George.
“We do need a place for aliens to land, but we don't know when they are coming.”
“I know, so my cousins could move down here first – but if we mess this up, it's the whole galaxy's peace at stake. You know how people fight about parking, and we don't need an intergalactic war about this!”
“It's actually easy,” Grayson said. “Cousin Harry, please take these blueprints to your contractor, and have him call me, and we'll just work this out.”
“Right … right,” George said, “because you're our contractor, Grayson.”
“Right,” Grayson said. “There's plenty of space because of all the room in the middle of the cul-de-sac.”
Everybody looked at the blueprint.
“Well, I'll be – he's right,” Milton said. “We can have three houses and easily fit a few spacecraft in there!”
“We just gotta make a sign!” George said.
“Problem solved and peace in the galaxy is saved!” Milton said.
“This is why you gotta make a blueprint,” Grayson said. “It helps you see stuff.”
A little later, when the three satisfied little boys had run back off into the worlds of their imagination, the colonel carefully folded the crayon blueprint as tears came to his eyes.
“Lord, it helped me see stuff, and not be worried – I know You have a blueprint for my future, and there is plenty of room for everything that needs to happen. Thank you for my little cousins and their friends who have blessed me in this last seven weeks, with one to go – my life will never be the same, and I thank You!”
