Jeff Warden turned to his eight year old daughter and crouched down. “What is it, Ames?”
“Mommy needs you inside.”
As Jeff began to straighten up, Amy spoke again. “D-Daddy?”
Her tone made it sound as if her next words were much more important to her than her mother’s message. Jeff gave her his full attention.
“Are we related to the Martians?”
Jeff smiled. It had been 26 years since his older brother Howie made him ask their father the same thing.
“No, honey,” he replied. “When the Wardens first came to Mars, they were just called Martians. But they wouldn’t talk to us or why they wanted to live on Mars. They made our satellites and spaceships on Mars stop working. Some people thought they were punishing us and were treating us like we were in jail. Since the people who run big jails are called wardens, that’s what they started calling the Martians.”
His wife’s voice pierced the arid summer air and grabbed Jeff. It was never a good idea to keep Fran waiting when she called.