Disclaimer: Roswell, the characters, and the situations are owned by the WB. No infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This story is part of an evolving storyline that currently includes (in order): "Decisions," "Looking In," "Christmas Envy," "From Another Place," "Husbands and Fathers," "Claudia and Nicole," "Stars", "Going Home", "The Ethics Lesson", "Redefining Terms", "Beginnings", "First Date", "A Quality Heart", "In Every Ending", "Birth", "Rose Petals", "The Littlest Czechoslovakian", "Girls' Night In", "A Guy Thing", and "Joshua and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day". More stories may be forthcoming.

* * * *

Additional Note and Disclaimer:

This story includes a reference to the children’s classic, Le Petit Prince (The Little Prince) by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. And it quotes in entirety from another children’s classic, Where The Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. Both references are meant as affectionate homage to favorite books. No malicious infringement intended.

Max: Setting Up

"Tell me why we’re doing this again, Maximilian. Why is he here?"

Max looked up from the knapsack he was unpacking, vaguely surprised at the aggravation in Michael’s voice. Michael sounded grumpy, like Max’s five-year old son Josh sounded when he needed a nap.

"Liz and Maria asked me to ask him," Max replied carefully. "Just be nice."

Michael glared at him. The expression on his face was one Max recognized, one he privately called Michael’s ‘I hate when Max pulls that leader crap on me’ look. Michael followed up the glare by squinting hostilely at Max. "You think I’m going to be happy about this? His father hounded us for years--"

"And his son’s son is dating your baby girl, and you don’t like it," Max finished. He was trying not to laugh. Michael could be so obvious sometimes.

Michael glowered more fiercely than before.

Ever the peacemaker, Alex weighed in with his two-cents. "I’m with Michael on this one, actually. I’d rather it were just us on this camping trip. Just family."

Max shot a disappointed look at Alex. He hated being ganged up on by his best friends, especially when the situation wasn’t exactly his fault. "Look, guys. We’re already out here. He’s already out here. We need to make this work. He’s not a bad guy."

Michael and Alex just stared at him.

"But he’s not one of us, Max," Michael said bluntly. "He’s not one of our friends, and he’s definitely not part of our family."

Max stifled a smile. Michael was in serious denial about the Nikki-Jamie courtship thing.

Then Michael folded his arms over his chest, and Max knew he was about to get a lecture. "Liz and Maria asked you, so you did it," he said in disgust. "When did you lose your backbone, Maxwell? Do you even remember? You are a textbook example of henpecked."

Knowing that it wasn’t a battle he could win, Max rolled his eyes and turned his back on both of them. He had a tent to put up.

* * * *

Kyle: Boys Will Be Boys

What a situation, Kyle thought. Sure, Max and he were actually sort of/kind of working on becoming friends. But Michael barely tolerated him, especially lately now that his daughter Nicole was dating Kyle’s son Jamie. And Alex, Kyle couldn’t figure out.

Kyle watched Jamie dump their knapsacks and equipment in a corner of the campsite, and thought about how much Jamie had wanted to come on this camping trip.

Kyle usually loved trips like this one himself. They reminded him of better times with his own dad. But he was uncomfortable with the idea of spending a weekend in the woods with Max Evans, Michael Guerin, Alex Whitman, and their respective sons. Maybe his feeling stemmed from the fact that he had never gotten along with them all that well, that he had always felt shut out of their little group. Or maybe it stemmed from his feelings of guilt for the way he had treated Max over the years. Most likely, though, it stemmed from the fact that Max and Michael were both aliens, which meant that Michael’s twin sons Stephen and Leo, and Max’s son Joshua were half-alien. And hanging out with aliens made for a whole new definition of uncomfortably weird camping trip.

But Kyle was a good father, first and foremost. And good fathers listened to their sons, especially when their sons weren’t saying what they really meant. And Kyle knew that what Jamie really meant when he said he wanted to go on this camping trip was that he wanted him -- Kyle -- to get to know his girlfriend Nicole’s family better, particularly her dad and twin brothers.

Which meant that Kyle was going to spend the weekend in the woods with aliens. Now that was a thought that would curl his father’s toes.

As he worked to put up their tent, Kyle reflected on said aliens, something he always did when he ran into the pack of them. He couldn’t seem to help himself.

Michael Guerin had always rubbed him the wrong way. Something about his latent criminal tendencies probably, although his being an alien didn’t help. And his boys were troublemakers. Sixteen-year old, brown-haired, mischievous kids, who apparently spent most of their time getting into and out of various scrapes around town. Which they probably would have done anyway, regardless of their non-human status, given that their mother was Maria DeLuca Guerin. Their non-human status just meant that Kyle was more nervous about their scrapes than he would otherwise have been if they’d been a couple of regular sixteen-year old boys. No sheriff wanted to have his town run over by feds for whatever reason, and Kyle had a bad feeling that the Guerin twins would somehow end up being that reason one of these days.

Then there was Max Evans. Kyle had gotten to know Max a little better since that day eight years ago when Max had saved Jamie’s life and left a silver handprint behind as proof of what he was. Getting to know Max as a friend (and it still felt strange to think of him like that) had allowed Kyle to let go finally of the old, achy feelings that he got in his chest whenever he thought about Liz Parker. Liz Parker had been Liz Evans for a long time now, and she was happy, and that was what was important. She was the mother of two bright, well-adjusted children: Claudia who was twenty or twenty-one and a senior at Harvard University, and Joshua who was only five. Sometimes, Kyle found it hard to believe that Max and Liz’s children were half-alien. They seemed to be normal, regular kids, pretty much on the shy side. But that was until you looked into their eyes, those weird dark eyes that Max had passed on to both of his children. Those eyes did not come from this earth. But at least Kyle didn’t think that he needed to worry about the Evanses bringing the feds down on his head. He was different from his father that way.

Then there was Alex Whitman. Kyle knew that Alex wasn’t an alien; he had checked him out thoroughly when he first found out about Michael and Max. Which was why Kyle knew that even though Alex wasn’t an alien, he was married to one, namely Max’s sister Isabel. Alex and Isabel had a daughter, who was half-alien, and an adopted son, who was a quiet, studious, well-behaved boy, as unlike the Guerin twins personality-wise as it was possible to get. Matt Whitman was as human as Alex or Kyle or Jamie was. And Alex seemed like a regular guy, although a bit hard to figure out. He liked to keep to himself. Except for that band thing--

Kyle’s musings were interrupted by the twins’ arguing voices, then Alex’s regular-guy voice stepping into the argument in the peacekeeper role that even Kyle knew was pretty typical for him.

"Why don’t you guys stop arguing and go do something," Alex suggested absently. Kyle noticed that Alex was rooting through the food supplies bags with a funny look on his face. "Hey, guys," he called to Michael and Max, "bad news here. We must’ve left a bag at home. We need more supplies--" Alex shot them his usual dorky grin-- "unless anyone else has enough for dinner?"

Michael glared, and Kyle wondered randomly if glares were the limit of Michael Guerin’s facial expression repertoire. "That was your job, Alex. Remember?"

Alex shrugged, obviously used to Michael’s brusqueness. "We forgot. So?"

Ever the leader, Max poked his head out of his tent to see what was going on. He and Alex exchanged a wry look behind Michael’s back, and all of a sudden Kyle felt completely excluded from their little group. Not that he cared.

Then Max suggested with his usual pragmatism, "Maybe someone should head to town and pick up what we need? Alex?"

And Alex nodded. "Sure. I’m done setting up. Does anyone else want to come with me to town?"

Kyle volunteered to go, thinking that he should try to maximize his time with the humans in their little camping party. If nothing else, it would settle his nerves.

When he and Alex were about to leave, Kyle noticed that the twins had taken Alex’s throwaway advice and were preparing to explore the woods. Matt and Jamie, who had quickly realized a kinship based on similar temperament and interests, decided to go along. Kyle thought it interesting that the four boys had divided themselves into human and non-human pairings. But maybe that had to do more with the fact that the twins were twins, and not that they were aliens.

As if to prove the latter, the last alien boy broke the tie. Josh wanted to tag along with his cousins. And Matt and Jamie were the ones who automatically waited for the five-year old. Kyle took that as definitive proof that it was the twins factor, not the alien factor after all. It seemed that boys would be boys, now matter what part of the galaxy they were from.

Kyle heard Max thank Matt and Jamie for looking after Josh then warn them not to stray too far, a warning that Michael echoed loudly so the twins could hear even though they were already pretty far down the path. Those warnings were the last words Kyle heard from the camp before he and Alex drove away.

* * * *

Michael: Voices

Michael could hear his twins’ matching voices carrying on the cool evening air despite the dense underbrush and soaring tree cover. He couldn’t see them, though. All of the boys had wandered off deeper into the woods despite their fathers’ admonitions to stay close to camp. They’d been gone from camp for over an hour already.

"I don’t think we should touch it--" one of the twins said. Was it Stephen? Michael wondered idly as he tightened one of the tent ropes around a peg. Yanking on the knot, he recalled the last time he had not been able to tell his sons’ voices apart. Maria had called him a cheesehead, and he had defended himself by reminding her that they were identical twins, and their being identical meant that they sounded alike—

"Yeah. It could have rabies or something--" Michael decided arbitrarily that if the first voice was Stephen’s, then the second voice belonged to Leo.

"You guys stay away from it. Now." That voice was easy to tell. Jamie sounded irritated and concerned at the same time, a lot like his father actually.

"Don’t boss us around, Jamie Jerkhead Valenti!" Michael could just imagine his sons whirling around to confront the older boy, someone they saw as an interloper in their midst, an interloper furthermore who was trying to steal their sister. Michael grinned and silently applauded their indignation. Then they shouted, "We don’t take orders from you or anybody!" And Michael grimaced. It was too true, that last bit.

"Josh..." Matt’s voice this time. He sounded worried.

Out of the corner of his eye, Michael noticed Max staring intently in the direction of the voices, as if he were listening to the boys too. Max must have heard Matt’s exclamation of Josh’s name at the same time that Michael had because when Michael turned to suggest that they go find out what was going on, Max was already gone, already running towards the voices. Michael followed suit.

"Josh, get back here!" Jamie’s voice again. Clearly Kyle’s son was trying to fulfill his responsibilities as the eldest, and was trying to take care of the younger boys.

Not much farther, Michael thought as he ran. Their voices were getting louder.

"Josh! Don’t touch it!" It sounded as if the twins had let go of their indignation over Jamie and were shouting orders too, trying to stop their littlest cousin from touching something.

Michael could see the boys up ahead, not much farther down the path. Max was just a little ahead of him.

Coming into the small clearing, Michael saw the something that the boys didn’t want Josh to touch. The small, dark-haired boy was reaching towards something red ... something with sharp teeth and snapping jaws ... a fox caught in a steel trap, in pain and fighting back.

Max must have realized what it was as soon as Michael did. "Josh!" he shouted.

The little boy glanced up when he heard his father, when he hadn’t even looked around at his cousins’ voices. Which was unsurprising really, Michael decided; Josh had inherited Max’s stubborn single-mindedness, along with everything else. But Josh hero-worshipped his father, and that alone was enough to make him pause. Not enough to make him stop maybe, but enough to make him pause and look back.

"Don’t get too close, Josh," Max said firmly, slowing down to a walk now that he knew what was going on and could size up the situation.

Josh smiled at his father, the slow, sweet smile he had also inherited from him, and kept walking toward the fox.

Michael realized then that the munchkin had the kind of fearlessness that went along with absolute innocence. The same trust and naïveté, almost a blind faith in the existence of goodness in the world, that Michael still saw in Max’s eyes sometimes, even after all these years and everything they’d been through, a trust and faith that Michael had never had. In Josh, it was just another inherited trait. It was almost funny, Michael thought, how much Joshua Evans was like his father.

"Josh, don’t move..." Max pleaded. Michael was relieved to see that Max was almost close enough now to tear Josh away from danger.

Especially because Josh was being stubborn and single-minded and wasn’t listening to his father.

Especially when Josh reached out and smoothed a small hand over the fox’s sleek red fur.

At that moment, everyone froze. Even Max.

It was like Josh’s action had sucked the air out of everyone’s lungs so that they were breathless, suffocating, wondering how the animal would react.

The fox shivered but acquiesced to the little boy’s butterfly touch.

And Josh looked up at his father happily. "He’s like the fox in "The Little Prince," Daddy." He knelt down beside the fox and said softly, "Do you want to be tamed too, little fox? Do you want a friend?" Josh stroked the fox again.

Max stepped closer carefully, obviously not wanting to frighten the fox into attacking the little boy who was petting it as if it were nothing scarier than Michael and Maria’s dog. Once he was close enough, Max crouched down beside Josh and pulled him away from the trapped animal. Putting himself in between his son and the fox, Max hugged Josh tightly. "Don’t ever do that again, Josh."

"But, Daddy. He’s unique like me. Like Mommy always says. Like the fox in the book, Daddy. He just wants a friend." Michael could hardly hear Josh’s voice. His words were half-muffled against Max’s shoulder, Max was holding him so tightly.

"He could have hurt you, Josh. You should’ve listened to your cousins and Jamie when they said not to touch him."

"But he’s hurt, Daddy. Look." Josh wriggled in his father’s arms, trying to point to the fox’s trapped leg.

From across the clearing, Michael could hear Max’s deep sigh as he looked over at the fox. "I guess we should try to help him. Is that what you want?"

Josh nodded eagerly, another smile spreading across his face as his father -- his hero -- explained how they would help his new friend.

"Okay, I’ll pull the trap open, but you stand back. Don’t touch him. He’s probably been stuck for a long time, and he’s probably grumpy like you are sometimes in the morning when you’ve been asleep too long." Max touched his son’s cheek gently, then pushed him just as gently backwards towards the other boys. "Everyone stand back. Matt, could you grab Josh?"

Satisfied that Josh was safe with Matt, Max focused on the fox again. Michael saw him trying to avoid the trap’s sharp teeth while at the same time keeping clear of the fox’s sharp teeth as he pulled the trap’s jaws apart. Once the trap was open, it took a minute for the fox to realize it was free. Max had to help it out of the trap. And for another minute afterward, Max just knelt there on the ground, watching the unmoving fox. It appeared to Michael as if Max wasn’t sure what to do next.

"Get rid of the trap," Michael said shortly. It was the first thing he had said in a while, but it looked like Max needed help deciding what to do.

Snapping out of whatever trance he was in, Max got up to dispose of the trap behind some bushes a short distance away. If he knew his best friend at all, Michael knew that Max would use his powers to melt it into a puddle of rusty steel, so that no other creature would suffer the fox’s fate.

While Max was getting rid of the trap, Josh made a movement towards the fox, a small, quiet movement that Michael almost missed. He almost missed it because in a forest, a five-year old boy wearing dark overalls was so small, he was almost impossible not to overlook. Before Michael or Matt or anyone could stop him, Josh had crept forward and reached out to touch the fox’s hind leg that had been mangled in the trap. And for an instant, his tiny hand glowed.

And then the ungrateful fox bit him.

Max spun around at his son’s squeak of surprise and fright. Josh was clutching his hand to his chest, staring at the fox with big, hurt eyes. Michael could see tears standing out in his eyes, even though the little boy wasn’t crying.

Max must have realized immediately what had happened because before anyone else could move, Max was already crouching beside Josh and taking Josh’s injured hand between both of his. Max healed the bite and checked for infection, clearly not caring who might be watching him use his powers.

And the fox ran off on four good-as-new legs.

After a couple of minutes, Michael saw Max let go of Josh’s hand. Max seemed to be studying the small, sad face in front of him, searching for the best words to explain. Michael empathized.

Finally, Max said gently, "He was a wild thing, Josh."

"But I was trying to help him."

"I know," Max said, brushing Josh’s hair back from his forehead. "Sometimes you can’t help everything. Sometimes you need to let things be."

"But he was unique like me. He was going to be my friend."

"I know." And Max pulled Josh into another tight hug.

And Michael knew what Max was thinking. Because fathers know how their children feel. And Michael was a father too. And because Joshua just wanted a friend. Because being the littlest cousin, the odd number born ten years after everyone else, wasn’t an easy thing to be. And Michael had been that lonely once too.

* * * *

Alex: Poker For Peanuts, or Kidding Over Cards

After dinner that night, Jamie, Stephen, Leo, and Matt sat together around a second campfire, trying to scare each other with UFO ghost stories. Which was an odd proposition but they were somehow managing it.

Alex, Kyle, Michael, and Max sat around the main campfire and played card games. Josh had fallen into an exhausted sleep huddled against his father, with his three panda bears cuddled close for comfort. (Alex couldn’t look at those bears without smiling. Josh had named them Music, Lego, and Fan, as if there were some kind of innate childish logic to that combination of words, and family members still got confused every once in a while about what Josh really meant when he asked for music or a fan or a lego. Childish logic was a wondrous but mysterious thing.)

Watching Max and Josh, Alex wondered whether he should bring up the fox incident or just let sleeping foxes lie. Matt had filled him in on the incident since it had occurred while he and Kyle were in town picking up the extra food supplies.

And Alex had noticed that Josh’s eyes had been downcast, their sparkling changeableness muted, most of the night.

Alex had a bad feeling that Isabel would grill him if she got wind of the fox incident and he wasn’t ready with solid reassurances that her brother and her littlest nephew were absolutely and positively fine. Isabel was as over-protective about her family as Max was. Like brother, like sister, Alex supposed. Deciding that he wanted to avoid being cross-examined by his wife at all costs, Alex was just about to say something when Kyle beat him to it.

"Is he all right?"

Max looked up briefly and nodded, and Alex relaxed a little. That nod would satisfy Isabel. Max knew his own son, and in any case he was a pediatrician. "He’s just shaken up," Max said quietly, and Alex made a further note to repeat those words to Izzy verbatim.

Kyle looked thoughtful as he stared at Josh. "He doesn’t say much, does he?"

Alex watched Max ruffle his son’s hair. "Well, he’s asleep right now."

Alex smiled. He could tell that Max wasn’t in a very talkative mood either. His brother-in-law sometimes got like that. Izzy said he’d always been like that, even when they were little, and that his stoic quietness had often worried their mother. Trying to help Max out by changing the subject, Alex asked, "Okay, are we going to play this card game or what?"

Kyle frowned at the cards in his hand, then looked at Michael and Max suspiciously. "No tricks, right? I mean, you guys don’t have x-ray vision, do you?"

Max blinked in surprise.

Alex tried not to laugh.

Michael snorted. "Don’t look at me, Kyle." He stabbed a finger in Max’s direction. "He’s the one who’s always thought he was Superman. Or at least Dr. Doolittle." He snorted a second time and looked meaningfully at Josh. "Which is something he obviously passed on genetically to all his offspring."

"Shut up, Michael," Max said good-naturedly as he shifted to find a more comfortable position that would allow him to see his cards without his having to disturb Josh.

Deciding to have a little fun, Alex elbowed Kyle. "They may not have x-ray vision, but they have great poker faces. A result of lots of practice hiding secrets." He paused for effect. "And they, uh, can send messages to each other telepathically."

Alex sat back and enjoyed the peculiar silence that descended on the group after his little revelation.

Kyle was staring at Max and Michael thoughtfully. "Well, there’s no way you guys are going to be partners," he stated bluntly.

Alex and Max laughed.

Clearly at the end of his patience, Michael snapped, "You don’t need partners for poker, Valenti. Just deal." Alex knew that Michael was still uncomfortable around Kyle, although things had been improving over the course of the night. But clearly there were limits to Michael’s patience.

Kyle dealt the cards, and they got down to the serious business of playing poker for peanuts.

Despite their repeated assurances that neither one of them was cheating, both Max and Michael were soundly beating Kyle and Alex after just a couple of hands.

Many hands after that, just when Alex was beginning to catch up with Michael at least, Josh woke up whimpering, and Max excused himself from the card game. "I think I need to put someone to bed. You guys can divvy up my peanuts amongst yourselves."

"So magnanimous, Evans," Kyle muttered.

And Alex snickered, thinking it funny that their high school’s star athlete should be such a sore loser, as well as such a pathetic card player.

Max grinned at Alex, then scooped up his little son and headed towards their tent. And the three left sitting around the campfire could hear Josh ask, "Can we read Daddy’s Book now?" and then Max’s laughing agreement that they could.

Kyle shot a curious look at Alex and Michael.

And because he knew what it felt like not to understand references, how it felt to be stuck outside a secret looking in, Alex explained: "Josh loves the book "Where The Wild Things Are." He likes it so much in fact that Michael painted his bedroom like the forest in the story as a present for his fifth birthday."

Kyle still looked like he didn’t understand. "Why does he call it ‘Daddy’s Book,’ then?"

Alex laughed. Sometimes the explanations of the references didn’t help, he knew. They just ended up leaving you more confused. Like Kyle was obviously feeling at the moment. Like Alex had felt when Liz had explained finally who and what Max, Michael, and Isabel were. He’d been so confused after Liz’s explanation in that jail cell that he had had that crazy anxiety dream about Alex in Wonderland, featuring Max as the Mad Hatter, and Michael as the March Hare, and Isabel as the Dormouse, and Maria as the Cheshire Cat, and Liz as the White Rabbit. It had been a crazy dream, definitely; but it had also opened the door to a kind of magical wonderland, too. Although if he were to have that dream now, he would probably cast Isabel as a queen. Though maybe not the queen in Lewis Carroll’s story. Alex grinned at his own fancifulness and made a mental note *not* to tell any of the women in his life about it.

He looked at Kyle again, who was still sitting there looking confused. It wasn’t easy being an outsider. Alex knew because he’d been in that place himself. And the reason it wasn’t easy being an outsider was that an outsider always needs to keep refinding his balance, reassessing what he believes, reformulating his strategy for how to engage with the folks who are shutting him out in the first place. Alex could definitely relate to the expression on Kyle’s face. Maybe he wasn’t such a Stalker Boy, as Maria always called him, after all.

Alex decided to dispel some of that confusion. He said gently, "You don’t know the story, do you? It’s about a little, dark-haired boy named Max. Josh thinks it’s about Max as a little kid--"

"So, are you going to call, or what?" Michael interrupted impatiently.

And Alex exchanged a look with Kyle. Michael was going to have to get over his denial sooner or later, but right now it looked like it would be later.

Kyle looked back down at his cards. "Call. And raise you two peanuts."

Liking his own cards, Alex also upped the ante, but he found himself increasingly distracted from the game as he listened to Max reading the story to Josh.

* * * *

Max: Where The Wild Things Are

Max always tried to make his voice as expressive as possible when he read bedtime stories. Because Josh had had a traumatic day, Max was determined to outdo himself.

He opened the battered, beloved book to its first page, and began to read: "‘The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another his mother called him "WILD THING!" and Max said "I’LL EAT YOU UP!" so he was sent to bed without eating anything.’"

Max stopped, his vocal cords suddenly paralyzed by the fear he’d felt when he’d seen Josh stroking the trapped fox. What if he hadn’t pulled Josh away in time? What if the bite had been more serious? What if…? He’d told Liz that he would keep Josh safe....

Pushing the fear and questions to the back of his mind, knowing he would take them out later to worry over, Max tightened his arm around his son and said in a half-teasing, half-serious voice, "That’s the punishment that your mom and I will use if you decide to touch something you’re not supposed to again." He made a fierce face. "To bed with no supper."

And Josh giggled and cuddled closer, knowing Max didn’t mean it.

Thinking that it was a message that could be reinforced later, Max continued reading: "‘That very night in Max’s room a forest grew and grew – and grew until his ceiling hung with vines and the walls became the world all around and an ocean tumbled by with a private boat for Max and he sailed off through night and day and in and out of weeks and almost over a year to where the wild things are.’"

"Just like my bedroom that Uncle Michael painted!" Josh said excitedly.

Nodding, Max turned the page.

"‘And when he came to the place where the wild things are they roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws till Max said "BE STILL!" and tamed them with the magic trick of staring into all their yellow eyes without blinking once and they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all and made him king of all wild things.’"

Josh was very quiet then. Max could see him thinking hard about the place where the wild things were, and about what little Max in the story had done to subdue the wild things. "I should have used that magic trick, Daddy," he said sadly.

Max smiled and ruffled Josh’s hair. "Maybe, maybe not. Not all wild things are up for a rumpus, you know."

And Josh clapped his hands in anticipation, his earlier sleepiness and his momentary sadness forgotten. "Oh! It’s time for the rumpus!"

So Max continued reading: "‘"And now," cried Max, "let the wild rumpus start!"’" As was their ritual, at that point Max handed the book to Josh with a flourish, so the little boy could flip back and forth through the several pages of wild and colorful rumpus that followed.

After Josh had studied and touched all the illustrations to his heart’s content, he handed the book back to his father, and Max continued reading where he left off: "‘"Now stop!" Max said and sent the wild things off to bed without their supper. And Max the king of all wild things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all.’"

Max smiled down at his son, who knew they were almost at the end of the story and was beginning to get sleepy again and was trying to curl up even closer to his father. Being the littlest Czechoslovakian wasn’t easy, Max reflected, thinking back to how much Josh had wanted to tag along with his older cousins when they had gone exploring in the woods that afternoon. Being the littlest and youngest was probably as lonely as being the oldest.

Max read the next part in a soft, lulling voice, hoping it would push Josh the rest of the way into sleep.

"‘Then all around from far away across the world he smelled good things to eat so he gave up being king of where the wild things are. But the wild things cried, "Oh please don’t go -- we’ll eat you up -- we love you so!" And Max said, "No!" The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws but Max stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day and into the night of his very own room where he found his supper waiting for him and it was still hot.’"

Max smiled again at the boy who was mostly asleep beside him. "And then little Max went to bed in his sleeping bag ... even though that part isn’t in the book."

"Just like at home," Josh said sleepily. "Where Mommy and Daddy love me best of all. And Claudia too."

"That’s right, Josh." And Max laughed softly so he wouldn’t wake Josh as he tucked him into his sleeping bag. Sitting back on his heels, Max watched his son sleep. Josh’s eyes were shut tight, his long dark lashes casting a shadow against his sleep-flushed cheeks, and Max suspected that Josh was already dreaming about being the king of all wild things in a forest of his imagination where a little red fox wasn’t grumpy and did want to become his friend.

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