Chapter 63

The Reservists raised the wreck and the Guard hauled it to the Detroit base. They used their crane to hold it off the pier while the airmen used tricks and dropped the landing gear. The tires weren't even flat. There was a big old lake trout behind the seats. The Guard cook confiscated that.

The airdales disassembled the wings from the fuselage and started taking off panels.

The SNJ was a not so wrecked aircraft. It was pretty bad, but from the looks of things it might be a possible. The electrics were toast and the wings drooped a bit. The empennage was broke plumb off but it was behind the shipping splice. There was evidence present of previous cracking and maybe, just maybe, it was a good thing that it had decided to rodeo while Grace and I weren't in it. The engine mount bolts had broken out of the block casting and the engine didn't make it back. But mostly it was just wet.

We recovered our 'chutes and took them out to General Uncle Bleeker at Selfridge and the 'chute packers hung them out to dry. The word was that the 'chute packers had seen worse.

So, in my spare time, HAH!, I called Franklin's and asked. Ben said it wouldn't hurt to look so we packed it up in a rail car and shipped it to Lansing. On the Wednesday of our first class, Ben called and asked if we had to have it all the same color.

"Ben, we're out the door to our first class ... fix it to suit you but not too nice because if it's pretty the Navy will want it back," Grace said. "Bye, Ben."

He was still spluttering when she put the handset on the cradle.

The Faculty Parking sticker was on the drivers side upper corner of the Bel Air windshield and we parked in front of the classroom hall, found our designated room, laid out an attendance signature sheet and decorated the chalk board with the math for the lesson and instructions... "Sign in, don't erase, do the other. There's a mitsake here ... Find it. When you do, write it on a sheet of paper and give it to one of the two kids in the back row." Then we went to the back row and took a seat.

People started filing in ... what the hell? There must have been 200 students ... not at all what we expected. I was thinking that the classroom looked more like a lecture hall than a nice little classroom.

The Bell rang and finally one of the girls walked down to the blackboard and started reading it. She signed the sheet and that started it. The same girl started to laugh as she examined the board and scribbled on a sheet of paper, "Mitsake should be mistake. There's nothing wrong with the math." She walked up the steps and handed Grace the sheet. When she was walking up she had an inherent grace about her movements and a slight tan ... nice looking girl. Up against nearly any other young girl in Michigan, she'd have been a beauty ... but there was Grace.

Grace read her sheet and handed the girl a folded up note.

"SUB. Student lounge at quarter after 10. Meet the instructors and have coffee."

At the ten o'clock bell, Grace and I stepped to the door, shut off the lights and left. More than half the class was still looking.

Evidently the students at the Union pretty much knew who everybody present was so when we walked in, picked out a juice, meandered over to the considerably less than 100 engineering students, sat down and just started discussing the math they looked a little skeptically at us ... teen aged interlopers.

These undergrads were mostly smart but hadn't caught on yet. They accepted us for our knowledge of the math but figured we were just the smart high school age kids of the class instructors ... and we weren't confessing a thing.

"Sorry, bedtime," Grace admitted we had a curfew. "Next week, load limits for bridges ... How to figure without crashing the bridge to test it. We haven't had a decent vacation since I don't know when. We're going sailing Friday and Saturday. There's bunk room sleeping for eight and deck space for seven. If you'd like to go, I'll give you our phone number and tell you where to meet."

The girl who figured out the mistake first came over and said, "I'd love to go."

Very soon we had our limit and they had our phone number.

Wonder of wonders, the Bel Air was still there. The Campus Police hadn't had it towed. No ... but the Campus Cop was sitting there looking it it. So ... we presented ... since we couldn't back up with the patrol car parked behind the Chevy.

"You're 15 ... and faculty? You two are just lucky there's been a campus wide about you. I'd have never believed it. I know the sign says faculty but there's a lot for professors and instructors behind the building, would you use it from now on?"

"Thanks, officer," Grace said as I was shaking his hand.

He left and the girl who had been on top of things all night walked up and asked, "You're the instructors?"

"Caught," said Grace.

She said, "I'm Sarah Patel. So, you must be Grace," she nodded at Grace, "And you must be David, what was the bit in the classroom?"

"Winnowing," I said.

"Separating the wheat, from the chaff?" Sarah asked. "What am I?"

"You are wheat, full measure, pressed down and shaken. You fill up the corners ... although, you might think about teaching English instead of engineering."

Graces' lightbulb lit, "Patel? Are you... ?"

"Dr. Patel's daughter? Yup," she said.

"Grace ... we were set up."

"Uh huh," Miss Patel said. "I must say, that was a very novel way of eliminating the football team. Mom said that they would drive you nuts."

"Football?"

"And women's La Crosse. 85 football players and 22 lacrosse. Didn't you notice how big those guys were?"