Chapter 50

We drove to the Lansing house. Grace wanted to clean up before we went to the University. The cats came in from the woods. Isabelle and Piper hung out together. The four young adults, unnamed by us, came around when they ran out of mice and small dogs to eat. They weren't feral; we could pet them but they weren't PETS. Last winter, the Canadian Lynx half really showed up. They were bobcat colored but furred like the Canadian.

Where have you been? Piper questioned.

'We had to go home and brag, ' I thought.

You did well in school?

'We graduated, ' I thought, 'We have to go to the University to meet with our advisor. Would you like to go?'

In the car? Piper thought, and broadcast a vision of riding shotgun with her head out the window and slobber running down the side of the car.

'Yes, ' I thought. 'Just like that.' I couldn't help it ... I laughed out loud.

She purred.

"Grace?"

"I saw ... she's going."

"Isabelle?"

"I doubt it, she's a stay at home mom."

I'll stay here but we are all going on the boat. She took Piper off and had a discussion.

"Grace ... it's late. We'll never get there in time. I'm calling in. We'll go in the morning," I suggested.

"Don't forget to call Daddy and tell him."

She ran off with Isabelle. I pictured the pair of them running through the woods. It's nice she can be a kid. Sometimes smart is a curse.

The Dean of the Grad school was not very understanding ... Daddy thought the cops were nice to teach Grace. Dr. Patel was reluctant but understanding.

Candy came home. "I passed!" She shouted, "I'm a High School Graduate!" And that meant hugs all around.

"When is the ceremony?"

"Saturday," she said, "Will you come be my parents?"

"Can we embarrass you?"

"You will anyway," she looked sheepish.

"'Sup?"

"I'm about to join the Air Force. My grades were so good this year they want me to see if I can test into OCS. If I pass ... I can fly!!"

So ... I made a couple of phone calls and we went out to the airport. Franklin's Aviation was still at the end of the old hardstand. We drove around to Airport Road on the west end and banged on the door of the huge WW2 hangar. The door opened to a plain looking fella who took one look at me and said,

"You any relation to Harry Bleeker?"

"Uncle," I responded. "Why?"

"Flight school just after Pearl," Mr. Franklin got a faraway look, shook himself and stepped back from the door. "This the prospect you called about?" He nodded at Grace, "She's too short."

Candy stepped out from behind the door, she looked a little confused.

"Nope," I pointed at Candy, "Her."

"She's perfect," he said. "Just the right size, no glasses."

"Candy Hjálmtýsdóttir," she said and put out her hand.

"What??"

"Hjálmtýsdóttir, Daughter of Hjálmtý. It's Icelandic."

He handed her a clipboard, "Write that down."

There was a space. She did, and handed the board back.