Chapter 19

Bill’s turn:

Did anyone ever explain to you that a power plant is noisy and hot? The thing is, there’s a lot of big machinery running, lots of electrical power being generated, which all has to go through conductors, transformers, and control devices. Any time you push current through conductors, you get heat, and big power means big heat, both the waste from the energy going in and losses from the energy going out. And nobody in his right mind would try to cool that mess down to acceptable human levels. Hundred thirty degrees on the generator deck, and it’s not yet summer.

Today’s excursion was a gas-fired plant, which changes nothing -- they’re all hot. That this one uses gas for fuel means it’s a bit cleaner. Coal-fired plants have coal dust and ash everywhere.

Thankfully, I got to cool down some on the way home, and rolling onto my driveway, I noted that Sandy’s car is parked behind Haley’s. Hmm. There goes THAT idea. NOT a time for quickies this afternoon. On second thought, I don’t know that I’d be up to it for a while, right now.

I stepped into the house, to the smell of GOOD cooking -- all three girls in the kitchen, stirring up something in a casserole dish. They all turned to me.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” I said. “What’s that delicious smell?”

I heard “Hi, Bill”, and “Hi, Dad”, and “Hi, Mr. Bill.”

Haley got a towel to dry her hands, and said, “Baby, we got to talking about the meatloaf at that diner the other day, and decided we could do better. This is Nikki’s recipe.”

While Haley was talking, Deena retrieved a Shiner from the fridge, and brought it to me with a glass, saying, “Looks like you’re the unwelcome recipient of hysteresis losses today, Dad.” She grabbed my neck to give me a kiss, and barely turning in time, kissed me on the cheek.

She backed up. “Phew!”

“Hysteresis, steam loop, mechanical, ohmic ... All hot. All nasty. And they’re coming down in a week. We got major oopsies there.”

Haley was right behind her, and grabbed me for a kiss on the lips. She said, “Bill, Deena’s right. Grab a shower while we get this green bean casserole in the oven. It’s another of Nikki’s recipes.”

I said, “Yes, ma’am” and walked away, noting that Sandy’s eyes were REALLY wide. Hmm, that’s not good -- she suspects. And unrelated, who-the-hell has a fourteen year old daughter who talks about “hysteresis losses”? I’m pretty sure I’m about to lose my mind, if I haven’t already.

Finally, showered and shaved, clean clothes, beer finished, I’m starting to unwind a bit. Walking back to the kitchen, Deena was placing the second casserole dish on the table, Sandy was laying out the dinnerware and silverware, while Haley was tossing a salad in a large bowl. Sandy grinned and said, “Just in time, Mr. Bill. Dinner is served!”

“Thank you, ladies,” I said. “It smells wonderful! And Sandy, you’re welcome as always. I trust Dan and Nina know you’re here?”

She said, “Yes sir. We were just finishing a lab report on AC circuit resonance -- had to plot voltage curves against frequency for the components, and we figured out that it works best on semi-log paper. Kinda cool to see how it works, from OUR own measurements. Who knew?”

“We just have to finish the error analysis, so we’re about done,” Haley said. “It’s one thing to read about it, but we like it better when we DO it in the lab.”

I said, “Ladies, that’s the difference between theoretical knowledge and engineering. It’s all about practical application of the theory. And a prime example is this meatloaf! MUCH better than at the diner, and just about like my grandma used to make!”

Deena said, “We figured there was a better solution, so we sent a text to Terri. She says that all the sisters have specialties, but Nikki was the best at meatloaf. Nikki says she learned from HER grandma.”

Sandy grinned and said, “Cajun grandmothers. They must have been something to watch! I have a grandmother who can’t even boil water.”

“Oh, everybody can cook,” I said.

“Some are just better than others. Mom, for instance,” Deena said... “Uh, not that good...”

I sighed. “We both had jobs. Ate out a lot.”

“Incentive,” Haley asserted. “Mom’s cooking got a lot better when she and Steve started together.”

“I think it’s part of a happy home, whether both adults work or not,” Sandy said. “We try ... Like we missed Saturday’s marathon ‘make something, eat some of it, freeze the rest for later’ session.”

“We do that, too,” Deena said. “Or Haley walks it next door for her mom...”

“And I cook better’n Mom,” Haley laughed. “At least that’s what she says.”

“Oh, sure,” Deena chuckled. “Like, ‘Thank you Haley, for bringing me this crappy stuff that I can cook sooo much better... ‘ right?”

“I ate Mom’s cooking my whole life. Trust me. We’re better.” Haley’s grin. Little thing has always made me smile. “But wait’ll it’s cold and nasty outside...”

“Gumbo weather,” Sandy said.

Deena and Haley both nodded. “Yeah...”

“We do a good one at our house,” Sandy smiled. “What color’s YOURS?”

“Uh, DUHHHHH!” Deena snickered. “Real gumbo’s BROWN!”

“Okay, we can still be friends,” Sandy tittered. “You gotta be real careful if you order gumbo out of town. I got a bowl of some kind of red soup with rice and okra and two shrimp...”

“I’ve made that mistake a time or two. The trick is, see if somebody else orders it, look at theirs first. You get away from home, people have some strange ideas about gumbo. ‘Specially around New Orleans. That whole ‘Creole versus Cajun’ thing.”

“So now we have to have a gumbo cook-off and a barbecue contest...” Sandy grinned.

“Just so I don’t have to try and replicate some of Carlita’s tamales,” Haley laughed.

So I’m at the office the next day, going over a few documents. Phone lights up. I punch the speaker button. “Yeeesssss?” I say. I know it’s Maddie. She screens the incoming number that we make public.

“A Russell Brown. Wants to know something about the airfield.”

“Thank you.” I punched the active line. “This is Bill Simon. Can I help you?”

“Your phone number’s on the sign for that old crop-dusting strip?”

“Dukes Field?”

“Yeah. I saw the new sign. Heard somebody on the radio landing there a week or so ago.”

“That’s us. Could’ve been any of several people...”

“Oh, I’m bein’ rude. Russell Brown. People call me ‘Russ’. I fly a Piper Warrior. I have to drive all the way across town to play with it. Are you people gonna have tie-downs?”

“Russ, you’re the first one to ask that question. I guess the answer is ‘I don’t know’ right now. You do know we’re not a paved strip?”

“Yeah, and yours wouldn’t be the first one I’ve landed on, either. What’s the deal? Who’s Three Sigma? Never heard of ‘em.”

“Oh, we’re an engineering house. We specialize in electrical power systems – big stuff, industrial and utility. Our home office is in Auburn, Alabama and a lot of us fly. We use corporate aircraft to move equipment and people around. Thought that the Dukes field was a good thing, so we bought it.”

“And you’re fixing it up?”

“Yep. Gonna move our offices out there in a few weeks. And we own a good-sized tract of land, so there are a couple of houses going up.”

“Sounds like an operation.”

“Will be. We have a Cessna 152 there right now. I’m working on my private. So’s my wife, and I think one of my associates here, and his wife and daughter, maybe others, will be using that little plane. There WAS a Stearman there, an old duster, but we flew it to Mississippi for a restoration. It’ll be back. Heaven knows who’s gonna fly that thing, but I have my suspicions...”

“Wow! People who fly for the fun of it...”

“And you own that Warrior because it’s the only way you can do business, right?”

“Not hardly. Expensive hobby. I suppose I could buy a dressed-out Harley and a leather jacket...”

“And find yourself as the temporary hood ornament on an errant Prius,” I chuckled.

“There is THAT...”

“I’ll find out what my boss says,” I said. “Personally, I think the more traffic, the better. I worry that the place still looks abandoned.”

“I drove by there. It’s got new roof and new paint and new windows...”

“Like I said. Office.”

“What about fuel?”

“We’re still looking at that. I’d like to get us some avgas. Our big plane uses Jet-A, but they’re not going to live here...”

“Big plane? On that strip?”

“Pilatus PC-12. It can do that strip. Hasn’t yet, but soon...”

“Oughta be interesting,” he said.

“Uh, if you wanna come by on Saturday, we’ll be out there for a while. I wanna put in an hour. Haley can do that, too ... We’d be glad to meet you.”

“Might just do that. Fly in?”

“Yeah. Lemme give you my cell number. Call before you commit. Stuff comes up, you know...”

“Oh, I know. I’ll give you a call Saturday.”

“Okay, Russ. Talk to you later.”

Maddie was walking up the hall. “I’m starting a pot of coffee. You?”

“I could use a cup.”

“Sounded like an off the wall phone call...”

“Guy wants to know if he can keep his plane at our airfield.”

“Hmm. Insurance?”

“Yeah. I like the idea. The more the merrier. But I gotta run it by Alan...”

“Uh ... Noooo. You gotta run it by Anders.”

“That’s right. New CEO. That’s a surprise.”

“Not really. Stoney’s father-in-law. Retired colonel. I’ve met ‘im. His wife’s a redhead. Really nice people.”