Mind the Time
Chapter 39

Copyright© 2014 by Old Man with a Pen

So Vee bummed a ride upstate to see about maybe going to school. Mount Pleasant had been a Land Grant school.

In case you didn't know, a Land Grant college was a school established by a Land Grant. So many sections were given to the school with the right to sell or lease the land to the highest bidder. The fees or funds were deposited in an interest bearing account somewhere and the interest was used to alleviate the taxes needed to support the school ... alleviate not eliminate ... help out ... not pay for the whole shooting match.

Some schools held on to the land. Some sold. By law, the money was held by some institution. That's not to say that some colleges went for the high dollar bid ... there has always been corruption and collusion in politics and Colleges are asshole deep in politics. Sell or lease ... Nephew Jim might get the lease instead of that rich German immigrant family because ... well ... everybody knows Jim and who are these von Sneezes anyway.

As life goes on ... and it does ... even if you have a watch that sorta stops all that ... inflation kept up with gold.

When gold was twelve dollars an ounce a Colt single action revolver cost about $12. In the 2010's an ounce of gold cost about twelve hundred dollars ... and so did a Colt.

Since the airplane was still in Germany and Vee couldn't drive yet, she begged a ride up to the school ... and They knew all about her, her grades and her difficulty with authority figures.

"You have been talking to my Mom," Vee accused the Admissions Dean.

"Not so," said the Dean.

"Who then?"

"Miss Pinchton," confessed the Dean.

"Rather than beat a dead horse, the Access Commissioner, Gary Zalewski, asked ... no ... ordered me to find a school that could meet my standards. You're not giving me an interview ... I'm interviewing you ... and you aren't doing so well. You don't seem to realize ... your school has already accepted me. It's not your decision to make ... it's mine."

Vee flipped out her pad and contacted the president of the board of Regents.

"Hello," Vee said.

"Who is this?"

"Princess Wendolyn Wanzor Austin the fifth, called Vee."

"Oh, are you coming here?"

"Your Dean of Admissions doesn't want me here."

"Kate?"

"Yes sir?"

"You're fired."

"What? This little brat is fifteen years old."

"We know that ... she also has the highest test scores ... ever ... anywhere." He gave that a minute to sink in. "Your Highness..."

"Vee, please."

"Vee? Oh ... as in the fifth."

"You just got put back in the possibles bag."

 
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