Chapter 129

He was seated in a push wheelchair, but over by the pool I could see a powered chair. Well ... I thought it was ... what it looked like was a kids go-kart ... but four big wheels and all terrain four wheel drive tires ... with a NASCAR style racing seat.

“You like my chair?” he said as he noticed me noticing it.

“How many miles between charges,” I asked.

“It’s not electric ... the engine is from a 1980 Honda Goldwing 1100 shaft drive. I installed a fuel injection system I developed on it ... but it was never a profitable setup. When Honda came out with the six the four faded into obscurity. I will say one thing ... at my age ... driving that thing is a lot more fun than what’s good for me.” He chuckled.

His help wheeled him over and I got to sit on a four by four wheel chair ... well ... four wheel drive but five forward gears and one reverse.

“If this is like a NASCAR seat ... I can see why those drivers can drive five hundred miles ... this is soft. So ... how did you know my grandmother?”

“I was a newly graduated archaeologist/anthropologist from Montana State. I met her when the Army catalogued her weapons.”

“Weapons?”

“Yes,” he said. “Didn’t you know ... Flintkote International owns a German Fliegerabwehrkanone, a Rheinmetall Flak 41 antiaircraft cannon ... we fired it the first day we were there.” That was said with a blush and some toe-kicking. “She ... and Jack ... came down the stairs in ... their ... alltogethers, I believe that is the term ... she was spectacular.”

Since I have mirrors ... and I know what I look like ... I must be spectacular, too. Funny ... I’m just me.

My boyfriend calls me exquisite. I’d never heard the word before so I looked it up; exquisite, beautiful, lovely, elegant, graceful, magnificent, superb.

Hmmm. Something must be wrong with my mirror.

After the elderly man had taken me to dinner and back to the Nordic Princess to collect my Highfield ... I motored back to my catamaran and my boyfriend.

The next day, the base commander putted out to my mooring ball and was hooked up to it when we came back from a little cruise. We were gone all day ... he was pissed.

“Who is the old man?”

“Someone who knew my grandmother,” I said.

“Where did you go?”

“Just now?”

“Si.”

“Diving on the General Felipe Xicoténcatl (C53) shipwreck.”

I got quized about the site.

“What kind of ship?”

“Minesweeper,”

“What era?”

“World War 2,”

“So ... how deep was the dive?”

“Not deep, in fair condition,”

“Why didn’t you stay?”

“Too crowded.”

“Then what?”

“Circumnavigated the island. Came here ... you started with the questions.”

“So,” he said, “Who is he?”

“I have no idea.”

“He never gave you his name?”

“Nope, he’s an inventor of some kind.”

“What?”

“Really cool wheelchair.”