Dangerous Days of Daniel X

Chapter 15

A DAY LATER I arrived in LA, hot on the trail of Number 6-or maybe he was hot on my trail, hard to tell. As I said earlier, his name was Ergent Seth, and according to The List, he lived somewhere called Malibu. The depraved entity was believed to be in the film industry, which made sense if you think about some of the movies they make these days.

I created my mom and dad again, and this time included my sister Pork Chop (Brenda), to help me rent a house in Glendale, which is a suburb of LA.

The nicest thing about the rent-a-house was its gleaming gourmet kitchen. After a long-overdue shower and a quick stop at the supermarket, I spent the next two hours cracking eggs, chopping onions, grinding meat, selecting herbs and spices.

Cooking is a hobby and a passion of mine. It calms me, helps me unwind, and, hey, I’m fifteen. I eat like a truck driver.

I kept my parents and even Pork Chop around for dinner and some nice chitchat. I decided it was Italian night, spaghetti, sausage, and meatballs to be precise, but done the real way. I like to go the whole nine. Top-quality, freshly ground beef, veal, pork, and pancetta, a type of Italian bacon. Roma tomatoes and extra virgin olive oil for the sauce. Fresh pasta. Fresh basil and oregano and Romano and mozzarella cheeses to top it all off.

I’d learned the wonders of authentic Italian on a trip to Sicily six months earlier. I wasn’t there on a vacation, unfortunately, but to take out Number 24, a homicidal, gunrunning alien known as Bang, Bang, Doom, who lived in a heavily guarded villa outside Palermo. Beautiful digs, great views.

After dinner, I was thinking about making a fire. Then I was going to catch up on reading this novel I’d picked up in Portland, Water for Elephants. A honey of a story!

From the looks of ecstasy on my family’s faces around the granite kitchen island, I knew I’d nailed the meal. Even Pork Chop shut her motormouth for a few seconds and shoveled in dinner.

“Thanks for helping me out, guys,” I said, lowering my fork and raising my Pellegrino in a toast. “Here’s to the best family in the world.”

Even though you’re not real.