Chapter 32

Yes. It’s dirty ... really dirty. Greasy, grimy, cosmoline preservative dirty.

It’s air-cooled and the fins on the cylinder jugs were crammed near full of waxy, sticky, icky Czech commercial cosmoline. I hadn’t noticed ... they call it ‘caught up in the moment,’ girl ... and I was.

“Eww!

“What cleans it, mom?”

“Acetone, mineral spirits, or kerosene (but I don’t recommend kerosene). A glass spray bottle with Dawn dish detergent diluted with water. A toothbrush or small paintbrush for cleaning small, hard to reach spots in metal. Q-Tips and cotton swabs also work. A heat gun to “melt” the cosmoline.

“Do it outside. Make sure all the openings are plugged. It looks like the factory put plugs in all the holes ... but ... if it was me ... I’d clean around the plugs and tape them shut ... just making sure.”

“How about a hand pump sprayer ... like for the dandelions?”

“If you’re planning to use mine ... no.”

“Why not kerosene?”

“Paint ... kerosene melts paint and your cylinders are black ... either paint or powder-coat.”

“Ok. I’m off to the hardware store.”

“Bring me back a Dr. Pepper?”

“Ok.”

As I was leaving, the man who brought my engine, said, “I wanna see the airplane ... please.”

So ... I got sidetracked.

“Fuse is over there...” and I pointed to the corner... “wings are hanging from the ceiling.”

He looked up.

“Tail is over there.”

He spun and looked ... he saw the wheels on the way by.

“Well ... I’ll be switched. They told me this was going to a girl ... I didn’t believe it.” He looked at Surprise... “It looks like a good job.”

And she said...”It’s not mine ... Tyche built it.”

“And now I know why this engine has been sitting in the warehouse for two years,” he said.

“I knew it! ... I knew it. Remember Auntie mom?” I said. “Two years ago? I said they had it and were holding it because I was too young.”

“You did!” Surprise said. ‘And you Were too young.’

‘Wasn’t,’ I thought right back at her ... and then I thought... ‘Well ... that’s new.’

‘Watch holder,’ Surprise thought. It was an accusation.

The trucker looked at the pair ... something just happened ... what?

Time to get into the aircraft... “Umh ... I was sent ... umh ... driving delivery ... ah ... because ... I have an A&P certificate ... Verner asked me to have a look ... up close and personal ... so to speak.”

“Show me your license,” Junior said.

“Hi ... you get someone else to wait tables?”

And Surprise said, “Frank sick again?”

“Ernie...” I said. “I was doing dish duty.”

“You left Frank all alone? At Noon?” Surprise shucked her Tyvek, grabbed an apron, stuck a pencil in her hair and headed out the door.

“Oops,” I said. I followed Auntie Mom.

Suddenly Junior was alone with a trucker.

“Why do you want to see my certs?”