WORLD'S BEST DAD

Most families that live in the Summit Meadows neighborhood chose the suburban paradise for its fair weather and peaceful ambiance. It's currently ranked the fourth most ideal place in America to raise a family, as chosen by Consumer Report magazine, which states, "the suburban quiet is broken only by the sounds of bicycles, birds and the occasional lawnmower."

But on July 18th, exactly one month after the Great Un-mugging, the cul-de-sac in Summit Meadows was alive and buzzing.

The children of 1134, 1136, and 1148 Meadow Drive – seven heads in all – gathered together at the grass island enclosed by the pavement circle, each child trying their best to shout over their peers.

Jacob was the oldest, the tallest, and also the loudest, which made him the ringleader by default. Eventually the arguing subsided, order was established, and then he was able to hold court.

"Me and Sophia snuck into the Baker house last night," he announced. "We saw the mug. Tom's dad is at number three now."

"Prove it," Jennifer said, a small freckled girl with a shock of red hair tumbling out of a ponytail. "Where's the mug? You did take it...didn't you?"

"I was gonna, but Sophia got scared. Thought we would get in trouble."

"I wasn't fraid of getting in trouble!" said Sophia. "I was just sayin we wasn't no thieves, that's all."

A shiny silver SUV turned onto the street and drove towards the group of children standing at the dead-end. The group turned to study the car, waiting for it to come into view.

"That's Tom and his dad now," Jacob said, as it neared. "Everyone shut up and act normal. Anyone rats on me and you're dead."

The SUV pulled into the drive of 1132 Meadow Drive and the engine died. There was a slam of doors and Tom and his father emerged from the car.

"Hey-ya kids," Tom's dad said, loosening his tie. "What are you rascals up to today? Hopefully not getting into any trouble this time. Mrs. Dobinsky still hasn't let me off the hook for letting you lot dig up her flower bed."

"N-no sir, of course not," Jacob said. "We was just thinking of trying to get a game of street hockey organized."

Tom's father smiled. "Sounds like fun. Tom and I have to have a talk first, but then he should be able to join you." He winked. "You can pick him last if you want, he won't mind."

Tom was already heading into the house, doing his best to avoid eye-contact with both his father and the rest of the group.

The group of children waited dutifully until the front door slammed behind the father-son duo before speaking. Jennifer craned her neck, checking that they were gone, then took the risk.

"He hasn't been around for weeks, now all of a sudden he's number three," she breathed. "If that's true, then that means..."

"He jumped up almost ten slots," Jacob said, finishing everyone's thoughts.

"What does it even mean to be the number one dad?" Sophia asked. "Everyone just says its that the coolest, nicest, richest dad is number one. But ain't nobody knows what they judging them on. It could be anything, really."

"Whatever it measures, Tom's dad is gonna be number one in it soon," Jacob said.

Just then there was a shout from inside 1132 Meadow Drive and the door sprang open. "I hate you!" Tom screamed, wiping tears from his eyes. He bolted across the lawn and down the street, disappearing into the shimmering haze of the July heat.

Tom's father flew out the door after him. "Tom, come back! Will you just let me explain-" He trailed off, aware that the eyes of the entire neighborhood were still on him.

"Sorry you had to see that guys," he said. "Ice cream on me later if you promise not to tell Mrs. Baker about this."

"Sure," Jacob said, hesitating, then, "Is Tom okay?"

"Yeah, he's just a little upset with his old man. You can't blame the little guy, we all have make tough decisions. This big jerk of a father," -he pointed both thumbs at himself- "just announced he has to leave on another business trip, had an urgent conference come up in Miami. I get his point, that I'm never home, but hey, sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the greater good."

He began to stride down the road after his son. As he did so, something fell out of his pocket; a piece of paper, fluttering in the wind down towards the group of children. Jacob ran over and snagged it out of the breeze.

"Sir you dropped your-" he trailed off, realizing Mr. Baker could no longer hear him.

Jacob looked down at the paper, still warm from a printer. There was a black and white photograph of a man he did not recognize, wearing a dark suit and black glasses. The photograph was captioned,

NAME: TEMPLES, GARY

RANK: 2

Location: 17 Cherry Ln, Miami, FL