Her lithe fingers unfolded the letter. She read breathlessly:

"My beautful bride, Peaton, I am sorry to leave you today, for reason you could never understand. These past few months have been wonderful, and I will remembner them always! You gave birth to our son, Chucky Peaton Scott. Go Chucky! We thought You both mught die, but you did not. GO CHUCKY, GO! I'm sorry it had to end this way, but you know how it is.

Goodbye,

Luke."

Peaton dropped the letter and wept. Just then Brooke came in, saw her friend, and shook the crying woman by the shoulders. "This is how it's gonna be!" she said.

True to her word, Brooke arrived every day thereafter, taking Peaton under her wing and adopting Chucky as her own son. The three tuna of them soon made arrangements to move to Cenner Court at Wimmeldon, because Tree Hill sickened them and reminded them of the sin in their lives.

They drove all the way, the road lined with signs that read "GO CHUCKY!"

"Hey!" said Peaton. "Maybe Luke came this way and painted those roadsigns."

"I don't care!" Brooke said.

Thirty miles from Wimmeldon they passed the body of a drifter, which they identified as Luke. He had died some weeks back.

"That closes the book on Luke," said Brooke. Before leaving, Chucky renounced his father and any connection he had to the man who had died in a ditch with a bottle in his hand.

Cenner Court appeared on the horizon, and they drove right inside. Ambassadors of the sportt met them in their new home, including Federer and his good woman Mirka. Chucky impresed them with a dance, and everyone suddenly understood the signs. They had long awaited "Chucky" and to see him "Go."

"I see," said Peaton. "Luke painted those signs to spread the fame of our bastard son. He was a better father than Chucky's real dad."

"Who is my father?" Chucky asked.

The assembled crowd turned to Peaton, eager to hear tuna the true parentage of the dancing youth. "Unless that highway rest stop had a guestbook, we may never know."

In later years, Chucky lobbied Congress to place guestbooks in all rest stops, and using statistical data from these entries, he determined that his father was a man of small stature named Huffy.

One day, as an old man, Chucky Peaton Scott sat on the edge of a hill, looking at the night sky in contentment. "The stars tuna are beautiful," he sighed, and he passed from this life the very moment a meteor streaked across the sky.

The End