“So where do you want to go to next,” Benton looking at his daughter; thanking the waitress as he was handed the receipt for lunch and his burger in to go bag.
Seeing Frieda finishing off her fires as he drinks his second soda; it was only moments earlier that he had a rather serious take with Frieda as to why he and Amanda have not had a second child and reluctantly promising his daughter to talk to Amanda when they get home about getting a dog. Despite his reluctance to take on such a responsibility; Frieda did make a valid point to needing a dog. With the security detail walking out along with the rest of the serving staff months ago; Benton’s estate was left largely unprotected, despite the state of the art security system in place. A security system that was easily defeated upon its primary power source being cut, from a bullet to a pole mounted transformer supplying power to his estate. Since then his house has been running on emergency generators, having to wait until Tuesday at the earliest to have power restored.
“How about we stop by a spa,” Frieda smiling; “and get you a mani-pedi?”
“Not on your life,” Benton choking on his soda; “you won’t ever see me set foot in those places.”
“Then how about a hobby shop,” Frieda watching her father cleaning himself up from spilled soda; “you rarely have any diversions to occupy you other than work.”
“I have you and your mother,” Benton answering; “but a hobby shop does seem more palatable then a spa.”
********
It wasn’t long after leaving The Local Diner that Benton’s cherry red Veneno is parked outside a shop called The Hobbyist. With large display windows featuring various products for sale; ranging from intricate models all the way to the latest in arial drones, Benton couldn’t help but be intrigued at what the place had to offer in the form of a diversion or two.
Entering the shop, Benton sees his daughter make a bee line towards the remote controlled planes and drones; Benton however finds the model kits interesting. With various models ranging from military vehicles to classic cars and assorted difficulty levels, the were-panther makes a mental note to come back to those as he continues to browse the store.
“How about these rockets,” Frieda calling her father over; “with our backyard, we don’t have to worry about it getting caught up on some overhead wires or in a neighbor’s yard.”
"That could be something for all of us to enjoy,” Benton looking at the box and reading its features; “can go up to one thousand hundred feet with a self-activating parachute. Single stage and comes with two motors; what does that last part mean?”
“Rocket motors are single use engines that propel the rocket upwards,” the shops proprietor approaches; “depending on the size of the rocket, depends on the class of the motor.”
Benton seeing the shop’s proprietor; getting the scent of wolf from the man who looks like he was stuck in the sixties.
“The name is Austin Perry,” the man extending his hand to Benton who reluctantly accepts it; “this is my shop.”
“Some of these rocket motors look like fire crackers,” Frieda examining the packages.
“They are not far off from that,” Austin answering; “the only difference is a fire cracker explodes because the combustible material has no outlet. A rocket motor however does and its fuel source is packed in such a away so that is burns providing thrust.”
“Which one do you recommend for first timers,” Benton looking at the vast choices.
“This one,” Austin grabbing one of the smaller kits; “it’s easy to assemble and it comes with a couple of motors. It won’t go as high as the one you were looking at earlier, but it will teach you the basics.”
“And the model cars,” Benton motioning his head towards the front of the store.
“Depends on how intricate you want,” Austin answering; “I have kits in which are pre-painted and go together in six easy steps, to the extremely detailed models in which you need to paint and glue the parts together. Those models you’ll need tweezers for and can be quite difficult.”
“I highly doubt you need a model car of the one you are driving dad,” Frieda rolling her eyes.
“What car do you drive,” Austin looking at the were-panther.
“A Lamborghini Veneno,” Benton answering; “only three where ever made and I possess the only one in America.”
Austin Perry paused when he heard what was just described to him. Like everyone in town, he knew that particular car belonged to Benton Knight; Moon Lakes veritable Mr. Money Bags, Daddy Warbucks and Ebenezer Scrooge all rolled into one. The red headed girl next to him was clearly his daughter.
“Have you ever considered three dimensional puzzles,” Austin looking at the man; “like the ones I have over here?”
Benton follows the werewolf to another aisle showing puzzles of various castles, skyscrapers and science fictional vehicles. Arching an eyebrow as he is handed a large box display the Seattle Space needle and another displaying the Empire State Building.
“You can build these on your own or with a family member,” Austin speaking; “they can be great for a family night.”
“There is also a steam boat,” Frieda looking at the puzzles; as well as Big Ben, the London Bridge and the Sydney Opera House.”
“There are many more,” Austin speaking; “I can always order them in if you don’t see them in store.”
Benton looks at the boxes containing the puzzles of the various buildings. Knowing that thanks to the Elder Council, he cannot take Frieda to any of these far off places; even if it was a family vacation, Benton bristled at the fact that the closest he could give his daughter some culture was three dimensional puzzles of buildings whose pieces are foam with a picture glued on them.
‘I have to talk to Tachibana about that,’ Benton thinking to himself; a father should have every right to take his daughter out of town to an exotic place.’
“What do you think Frieda,” Benton looking at the puzzles; “interesting in building these with me?”
“As long as we try some of the rockets,” Frieda grabbing a box.