Chapter 39

The girls got up early the next morning, Tuesday, and teased their men about their staying in bed. Both Tony and Paul complained about their dry sacs and aching balls and hid under the covers. The girls called down to room service to bring up their breakfasts.

By 8:30, though, both boys were alive and moving. They met John and Caitie and hustled over to the Municipal Airport and were there at nine o’clock to meet yet another inbound Executive Aviation jet, this one arriving from South Bend. This was one instance, Little Bit realized, when a private aircraft was really a time-saver. First of all, the straight-line distance between Hillsdale and South Bend is only about 85 miles. While South Bend has some scheduled air service, Hillsdale does not. In fact, it would have been a pretty long drive from a commercial airport to Hillsdale. But beyond that, though, there was airport security, early check-in, and so forth, none of which applied to private aircraft. The fact was that the plane left South Bend only a few minutes before they left Days Inn.

After the door opened and the boarding ladder unfolded, five young men got off the aircraft. John Taylor greeted them and brought them over to meet his new friends. Little Bit and Ann were particularly impressed with John Running Deer and Tim Johnson. The guys were followed off the plane by four utterly beautiful girls who were still chattering away.

Since their group by then numbered 15, they needed another van to hold everyone. Ann took care of that problem, although it required some help from me. It seems that car-rental companies are not too happy about renting a vehicle to anyone under 25. When the girl at the counter objected, Ann called me on her cellphone and I called the chairman of the company. And since I owned the damned thing...

The group went off to the Coffee Cup Diner for breakfast. Little Bit and Ann couldn’t decide whether to have another breakfast or just coffee, so they compromised by ordering a breakfast and splitting it.

John Taylor was expecting a problem with his friends regarding going to Hillsdale rather than Notre Dame, but there was none. In fact, they seemed to be relieved.

Donna Morning Star summarized the group’s feelings when she sighed, “Thank God!” Then she added, “Now what?”

“Now I guess we take you all to the President’s office and see about getting us accepted at this place,” John replied.

During the short drive over, Donna was sitting beside Ann who was driving. All she could think of was that the Indian girl certainly lived up to everything Sam Johnson had said about her. She was utterly gorgeous.

When they all arrived, the girls were teased by President Arnn. “Good grief,” he grumbled, “you people are really causing me trouble. Don’t you realize the problems you’ve already caused? You do know that a college president’s principal function is fund raising. And because of you kids, do you know what’s happened?”

Little Bit, Ann, and Caitie all slowly shook their heads while valiantly trying to look suitably sympathetic. That was hard to do, and even my talented little sisters couldn’t pull it off too well.

Arnn continued, “I had this whole series of really nifty, effective fund-raising letters all set to go out.” His face fell as he continued, “But they all said essentially the same thing: ‘The very survival of Hillsdale College depends on your generosity.’” He shook his head sadly and said, “In light of $1.5 billion in new gifts, we decided that ‘survival’ would be too strong a word; it now lacks a certain ... credibility ... might I say? So now we have to rewrite all of them! And it’s all your fault, too!”

“Gosh, we’re so sorry,” Caitie said. Then with a cheerier look she added, “Do you want to give the money back? Then you can use those letters that are all set to be mailed.”

Larry Arnn tried valiantly to look thoughtful. Finally he said, “No ... We’re all really a bunch of masochists. We’ll just suffer.” Then with the joking over he asked, “Now what can I do for you?”

John introduced his friends, explained the situation at Notre Dame, and concluded by saying that all nine of them would now rather go to Hillsdale if it were possible. Because they had been discussing courses of study at Notre Dame, all of them had their high-school transcripts with them.

Arnn quickly read through the transcripts and finally let out a soft whistle. “Golly, John,” he finally said, “you’re really leaning on me pretty hard, aren’t you? I mean ... We do have standards, you know. And these transcripts... ! How incredibly dull! There’s nothing on them but A’s” He grinned at them, winked at Donna Morning Star, and said, “For you football players, an A is one of those tepees with a line through it.”

The guys all chuckled at his quip.

“Then there are the SATs,” Arnn continued. “Dull, dull, dull! Not a single score as low as 1550 combined.” Then he looked up at them and asked, “How much financial aid will you need to come here?”

“Nothing, sir,” John Deer replied. “Actually, we’ll be saving money. Hillsdale is significantly less expensive than Notre Dame, and we’ll be paying full freight.”

“You’re a Mohawk Indian, John. Is that right?”

John just nodded and replied, “Yes, sir.”

“And, Donna, you’re a Seneca?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And your fathers are both tribal chiefs, right?”

Again the two nodded.

Arnn’s teasing came to a sudden stop. “I can’t tell you how utterly delighted I am to welcome two American Indians to our school. As you may know, the school was founded in the 1840s. Notwithstanding that slavery was still legal at the time, we had a Negro in our very first graduating class. Unfortunately, we’ve had few Indians.” Then to John he said, “John Taylor tells me you’re an outstanding football player. Are you fast?”

“He would never tell you, sir,” Tim Johnson interjected, “but he does the 40 in 4.2 seconds. That’s about as fast or faster than anyone does it.”

“How neat!” Arnn commented. “I can see it now. There will be an ad with John sitting on the seat of a tractor with the caption, ‘John Deer on his John Deere.’ And after all, for years they’ve been saying, ‘Nothing runs like a Deere.’ John, you’re going to give new meaning to that line.

Everyone laughed and Donna kissed John gently on his lips.

They were about to leave Arnn’s office when the door opened and a beautiful young woman of about 23 came storming in, followed by Arnn’s futilely protesting secretary. “What’s a lady have to do to dump some money on this school?” she complained.

Arnn just looked at her, utterly nonplused. “And you are... ?” he finally stammered.

“I’m Vangie Bradley,” the girl declared. She was angry! The kids could almost see smoke coming out from both ears. “Sisters!” she nearly screamed. “I should just kill them all and be done with it! They just have to monopolize everything.” Looking at Arnn she said, “I’ll bet all the neat new buildings are already spoken for, aren’t they? But do you have anything left? A new gym, maybe? A new stadium? A golf course? Isn’t there something I can build?” she wailed.

“Damn them all to hell and back!” she continued, barely pausing even to take a breath. “If it wasn’t for having to wait for FedEx to deliver the dumb cashier’s check, I could have maybe at least beaten Andy. But no ... That’s what comes of living out in the sticks!” She fished in her purse and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. Almost crumpling it into a ball, she dumped it on Arnn’s desk.

Having heard her mention a cashier’s check, he carefully picked it up, smoothed it out and found that it was a cashier’s check drawn on Morgan for another half a billion dollars. In just a couple of months the school had received two billion dollars from only four donors, as well as a number of new buildings.

“Can you use it?” Vangie asked with her eyes wide. “I hope I’m not too late.”

“Well,” President Arnn began with a warm smile, “I’ll be able to tell the kids that their financial aid will be renewed in full for next year.” Then he added, “As you may know, Hillsdale rejects all Federal aid, regardless of its form. We refuse to subject ourselves to Federal control of any kind, and since the courts have held that even accepting Federally-guaranteed student loans would bring us under those controls, our kids don’t get them, either. It’s been a struggle, but we’ve managed to cover their requirements from our own resources. Your very generous gift ensures that it will continue to happen.”

Then he again changed the subject and asked, “May I ask the reason for your gift? Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, of course...”

“For years I’ve been very impressed with your school. And ... and ... I have some young children who will be looking for colleges before too long. So maybe there will be a place that will look over their applications with some care.”

Arnn just shook his head. Then he changed the subject. “Mrs. Bradley, you referred to your sisters. Who are they?”

“Ali Clifford and Andy Taylor are two of them,” Vangie replied. “Although I guess you haven’t met Ali yet.”

“I don’t mean to be too personal, Mrs. Bradley, but how old are you, anyway?” Arnn said. “You’re Ali Clifford and Andy Taylor’s sister, but...” Then he shook his head and said, “The fact of the matter is that I don’t understand any of you. Andy Taylor, for example, is Caitlin’s grandmother, and yet Andy appears to be about 23.”

“Without really answering your question,” Vangie said, “I will tell you that I am a real honest-to-God grandmother. I actually gave birth to my daughter, Cathy — which is more than Andy can say about Kelly — and Cathy’s eldest is significantly older than my own.”

Turning, for the first time Vangie looked around at the young people. Seeing Caitie Fitzpatrick, she squealed, “Caitie! It’s been such a long time!”

Caitie moved out of the crowd and went into Vangie’s outstretched arms. The others, including Larry Arnn, were amazed at the power of the kiss the two exchanged.

Easing apart, Vangie looked around, found John Taylor, and the scene was repeated.

Then Vangie asked, “Are the Harris twins here?”

Caitie handled the introductions, telling the girls that Vangie was her aunt and lived in Deerfield, Illinois. When my sisters each gave Vangie kisses back to back, the woman was light-headed. She just murmured, “Wow!”

Then Vangie said, “I got a message from Kathy Carlson. She said there would be a shipment at the Municipal Airport arriving at noon today. She strongly urged you four to be there to pick it up.” She snapped her fingers and added, “And by the way ... You had better bring two vans with lots of room in them. From what Kathy tells me, you’ll need it.”

The result was that my sisters and their fiancés along with John Taylor and Caitie Fitzpatrick went back out to Municipal Airport in the two vans they still had. Just as they arrived, yet another EA jet flared out and touched down. They watched as it taxied over to where they were standing next to the two vans.

Again the door opened and the ladder unfolded. But then things changed. A stewardess came down the steps followed by a giant tiger. My sisters watched in increasing amazement as a total of four tigers came down the steps followed by a second flight attendant. My sisters were frightened at first, but then relaxed when they glanced over at Caitie and found she was watching the scene with delight.

To the girls’ amazement, the four tigers came over to them and sat down in a row. They noted that two tigers who appeared to be slightly smaller than the others stayed slightly behind and to the side. The truly surprising thing was that the giant carnivores appeared ... scared! And, although neither girl knew much about tigers, both had the distinct impression that they feared absolutely nothing alive.

“Okay,” Caitie said, “now who is who? And relax, would you? I’m Caitie Fitzpatrick, and your families know me ... or know of me, anyway. Why the fearfulness?”

My sisters were then stunned when they heard the largest of the tigers reply, although, they realized, the communication was mental. “Divine One, we are used to kings and queens, and even emperors and empresses, but to meet someone ranking above the angels... ! It’s just too much.”

“Well,” Caitie replied, “it’s clear that you’ve been well trained. You’re sitting there so perfectly!” The giant felines were sitting in a row in a classic house-cat pose, back on their haunches while sitting up straight. Remarkably, they even had their tails carefully wrapped around their forepaws.

“Now who is who?” Caitie asked. “As I said, I’m Caitie Fitzpatrick, and this is my fiancé, John Taylor.” Then indicating the others she said, “The blue-eyed blonde is Little Bit Harris, while the tawny-haired green-eyed girl is her twin sister, Ann. The two guys are Tony Kramer and Paul Christian. Now who are you?”

Clearly, the girl’s introductions had helped. The tiger who had been acting as the spokesman for the little group communicated, “My name is Augustus, Divine One, although, I regret to say, I am known as Gus. Beside me is my mate, Sheba.” He paused and then said, “We are supposed to serve the Harris twins.

“My colleague is Siegfried and his mate is Brunhilde.” The animal slowly shook his head and added, “My poor friend’s nickname is even worse than my own. Everyone knows him as Ziggy, and his mate is called Hilde or Hildy.” Amazingly, he actually rolled his eyes and then added, “It’s really an awful nickname, but that’s the way it goes sometimes. “Ziggy and Hildy are to serve you and Mr. Taylor.”

Before they could move to board the vans, the tigers turned back to see the flight crew. By that time, the engines had been shut down and the pilots had disembarked, too. It turned out that the four-person flight crew was composed of two husband-and-wife teams.