Chapter 9: the African Queen

We stood entwined for a moment.

We unwrapped like my sister unwraps a present. Very carefully. Gingerly, unwillingly. Grace doesn't want to spoil the paper ... she could use it in her dollhouse.

Not like I unwrap. I'm tearing paper and ripping ribbons to get at the ... TEE SHIRTS??? IN A RED RYDER BB GUN BOX?? Mom!?! She's like that, yup, she is.

We looked at each other with lovers eyes. We shivered. Looked away.

"Let's go find out who you are. I'd like to know who I'm going to marry," I said.

"I agree. I want to know my name for the license."

I thought my dad was going to vomit. He said, mostly to himself, "I need to get the carpenter busy on the new room, right away."

Why it never occurred to him to just stick her in the Orphanage ... No. He couldn't...

Wendy's fingers!

'Yup.' She thought at me.

I grinned.

I bowed to Wendy, she curtsied to me. She went through the door, my dad muscled his way between us, I followed, swinging the door shut behind me. Mr. Medawar reset the alarm. He grinned ... shook my hand ... and handed me two small velvet boxes.

"You're going to need these. Really soon."

I slipped them into my jacket pocket. "Thank you. What do we owe you?"

"They're on the house. when you're ready to upgrade, come see me. I'll set aside the nicest stone."

"'Make it three, earrings and a ring. Nothing gaudy. No larger than a karat each. Emerald cut, I don't like round stones.'" Wendy thought it to me and I relayed.

"My, you do know your mind, don't you."

"I might be a kid, I might get in all sorts of trouble, but I know what's right. My Dad made sure I'm a gentleman. And I know what I like."

Wendy giggled at me in her mind.

We reassembled in the office, Daddy checked the front for arriving employees. None yet.

"David. This involves the Official Secrets Act. You may never tell anyone."

(Yeah, sure. I'm writing this in 2012. I'm 70 years old, I lost my beloved wife in September of 2001. What do I care? ... Oh God, I miss her still.)

"Yes, Daddy." I said.

Funny, he never said a word to Wendy. Doesn't he trust me?

'No, ' thought Wendy.

'You keep out of this, wench.'

She laughed so hard she fell off her chair.

"Wendy?" Dad was concerned, "are you all right?"

"Something struck me as funny ... just juvenile kid stuff. I'll be fine." She went off if a secondary fit of the giggles. "May I have some water?" she gasped.

Oh, Great ... Now she has the hiccups.

Water was fetched, and drunk. Everyone had their favorite anti-hiccup remedy. The paper bag trick worked. Decorum was restored.

Employees were arriving, we needed to get on with it.

My Dad said, "Wendy, because you were born here, your citizenship is never in doubt. You can't be deported."

"That's a relief," she said.