Chapter 7

Ah ... your imignation is sadly lacking...

between classes ... the school halls are jam-packed with hundreds of teens ... both male and female ... bustling and hustling to and fro ... there are seven minutes to get to your next class ... you have to pee. You are not alone. The Boys Lavatory is full to bursting. David Austin is one of those who need to go NOW ... but ... that girl ... yes ... her ... the babe of the sophomore class. She is his constant court ordered companion ... the two of them ... ah ... you see it now.

Okay ... now picture that it is she who needs to go...

The first time ... yup ... office. You ... the monitor ... are presented with the court documents ... there is no fine print. NO Exceptions! Don’t bother to come again.

Having noticed a parking lot filled with student cars, Sallyanne Baker sojourns, pauses ... upon entry to the school ... the Principal’s Office ... first door on the left.

“Sallyanne ... and David ... how may we assist you?”

“I need to know what it takes to park in the student lot.”

There is a packet.

After school, Sallyanne, packet in hand, enters the office ... by the FRONT door. She is greeted by the office ogre. The situation is discussed, Mr. Austin is paged. Sallyanne ... and David ... are admitted ... she is seated ... David is not.

“I need to register my car.” Sallyanne said.

“You have a car?”

“Yes,” she said, and produced paperwork from her (My) purse. She handed the works to daddy. He closely examined the title.

“1952 C-Type Jaguar. This is a reissued title. Where is the original?”

“Seoul, South Korea.” (pause). “I think.”

“I see.”

And he did ... records from most of South Korea were spotty ... to say the least.

“The Colonel’s crew recovered it from a ditch. He gave it to me.”

The Colonel is her Father ... never to be mentioned as such ... he is first, last and always ... the Colonel ... MIA. (Missing in Action). A star in the wall at Langley. Whatever that means.

“No one tried to claim it?”

“To be honest, I think it was owned by one of those Chinese Generals, but no, no one put in a claim,” said Sallyanne, “I learned a lot fixing it. Dried blood is hard to clean off leather.” She paused ... reminiscing, I suppose... “The Colonel got the Air Force to fix the holes. They’re used to patching bullet damage.”

“Where is it?”

“I couldn’t con the Air Crew into bringing it back ... although they did try to buy it. The Navy was easy, I imagine it’s somewhere in the Pacific ... probably on an LST.”

“How about we deal with this when we have the car.” Not a question ... a decision.

For the first time in our acquaintance, Sallyanne Baker said, “Yes sir.”