Chapter 61

In the morning, daddy, Lucy Lou, Chuck, and the as yet unborn but getting damn close Maryanne came visiting. Arnold, the Chief and half of the raft and a half of airdales were unloading the thirty miles of titanium pipe and saving space by sticking smaller into bigger until the super light two inch pipe was damn heavy. (For those of you who don't know or too damn lazy to look it up, Airdale is a carrier deck crew member. They take care of flight evolutions ... you can look that up.)

"Who are you?" asked the Chief.

"Mom and dad," said the very expectant Lucy Lou.

"Ah ... Wicked stepmom," said the Chief, "I don't think they're expecting you." He chuckled to himself. "Go on up."

Arnold grinned, "Trouble maker."

"They need to be up," the Chief said.

The shriek heard round the world definitely woke the twins.

"They're up," Arnold said.

"Yup," agreed the Chief.

The airdales all laughed and kept taking smaller pipe off the deuce and putting it into bigger pipe until they got down to the plate.

"Damn," said the Chief... "That's going to take all day, I wish we had a forklift."

Arnold went into a back room and drove out with a Clark Carloader converted to propane power. He maneuvered the forks under the pallet, picked the plate up, spun the wheel, drove to the back room and dropped the plate, pallet and all. He walked out.

"Where did that come from?"

"Back there."

"Why didn't the old company take it with them?"

"Didn't run."

"They just left it?"

"Hell, there's three more back there. They were all out of propane. There's a small storage shed plumb full of 40 pound tanks out there," he pointed. There was a tin shed setting over next to the tracks.

"Wasn't it locked?"

"Yup ... misspent youth." Arnold looked a little guilty.

There was a lot of crimination's and recriminations sounding from the upper story and pretty soon the police showed up.

Guns were drawn and hands raised. It soon became evident that the murder reported was still going on and the police took to the stairs.

Have I described what David and Grace had done with the the assorted railroad ties, bridge timbers and concrete drain pipe? Taking the stairs was not exactly a deathtrap ... but a bunch of overweight cops weren't going to have an easy time getting up up to the murder.

"Grace? David? Which airplane?" The Chief was using the main floor public address system. I believe I've mentioned the ghostly quality of the speakers.

"T-28 ... what on earth is going on down there?"

"Police are trying to catch a murderer."

"They chased one in here?"

"They think it's you what's been murdered Any particular model T-28?"

"I'm not murdered ... Lucy Lou caught David and me in bed ... sleeping. Yeah ... hard points so we can hang the magnetometer under the fuselage or wing ... and drop tanks ... extra gas.Think you could get us an attack model?"

"You want machine-guns?"

"Sure ... why not?"

"Why?"

"Just in case."

"Well, you should tell the cops about the other staircase ... before one of them falls."

"The place is posted ... it's their own fault."

Daddy hollered down the staircase, "I'm an officer of the court. You could be seriously hurt using that stairway."

One of the more portly cops decided that the situation needed guns and started shooting.

The Chief said, "I'm calling the FBI ... this could get bad."

"Use our phone," said the very spooky voice that was Grace.

The Chief had the local on the phone and did some whispering of code words and the place was crawling with black suits before anyone could shake it. The local was only eleven blocks away.

There was a big folderol, but the sergeant admitted that he didn't read the signs. What he said was that the police didn't NEED to read the signs.

"We're the Law around here, we do what we want."

And that led to a big investigation and sure enough ... they had been riding roughshod over the student population ... but that happened later and isn't within the scope of this ... whatever you call it.

"Mom ... this is the first time David and I slept together ... sleep ... you know ... eyes shut ... no kissing ... sleep. I have to admit, I kinda like it. We're probably going to do it again." She looked at me and I nodded.

That set Lucy Lou off again, and while she was in the big middle of a rant she got that look pregnant women get just before they're not pregnant.

"Arnold!"

"Yes, Grace?"

"Where are the keys to the Suburban?"

"In my pocket!"

"Would you please bring it around the the back and make sure the backseats are out? Throw the mattress that's by the back door in the back. We're having a baby here."

That was done in two shakes. I turned on the elevator and Lucy Lou, Grace and Daddy were gone in a flash.

I headed to the cigar store and bought two boxes of Cuban cigars with the "it's a girl" wrapper. I took the the Bel Air to the hospital, gave daddy the cigars and sat for about ten seconds. Lucy Lou wasn't the only woman working on her primary position in the universe ... mother ... and the men in the smoke filled waiting room were working on their primary job ... ulcers.

"Aren't you going to stay?" Daddy asked.

"No. She doesn't need my help. They won't let any of us in there and you know it."

"How come you only bought pink?" He shook the boxes.

"Maryanne, one word Daddy. Maryanne."

"You know, don't you."

"Maryanne."

"You bought Cuban cigars?"

"Only the best for my little sister. Bye Daddy."

"Where are you going?"

"To the airbase, to look at the boat ... this isn't happening until tomorrow," I said. "Daddy, this is your last child."

"What makes you say that?"

"If you don't lose some of that middle extra you'll be dead by '59."

The Chevy and I took the road to Plymouth and Six Mile aways until I cut over to Eight Mile and then to the Parkway and up to the base. Two hours ... in Detroit traffic. At least the lights were coordinated. As long as I kept to the speed limit I did fine. It was the busses that messed things up. So I caught a few lights.

At the base I had the Gate Guard call the General. He pulled up in his own jeep and we had a chat about mothers in general and babies in particular. That explained why I was there without Grace. General Uncle Harry signed me in and we walked down to the boat. Harry had his own slip in the little boat park ... it was too small to call it a Marina. The K5 was looking good.

"Have you used her?"

"David, she's your boat," he looked serious and said, " ... Of course I have," and he laughed and I did too.

"I intended that you should. Who owns the Lightning?"

On the dock resting upside down on a pair of sawhorses there was a Lightning under a tarp. It looked somehow familiar.

Uncle Harry said, "I suppose you do ... it came on the trailer with the big boat. The driver said he was supposed to bring the sailboats. It was in the boathouse hanging from the rafters ... or so he said. I put up a request on the Chow Hall bulletin board for experienced Lightning sailors and we've done alright in the local races."

"It looks good," I said.

"I had the repair shop build a nice trailer for it. There's a race somewhere on the lake every weekend and the girls and I go to most of them," he looked around. There were a couple of real beauties walking toward us. "Here they come now. I expect they're here to wax the hull."