Chapter 67

"We're your instructors."

The mess that created ... you wouldn't believe. Every single question imaginable was asked by multiple people multiple times and not necessarily in any order but here are a few:

"You're kidding."

"Nope," Grace said.

"Your parents are the instructors."

"Nope," I said.

"You're just kids."

"Yup," Grace said.

"You're what? Fifteen?"

"Yup," I said.

Then somebody asked the BIG question. "What degrees do you hold?"

"BEM from Michigan State," Grace said. Michigan State had graduated from a cow college to a full fledged University ... this year. "That's a Bachelors of Engineering Mathematics ... not, as I have heard it said, a Bowel Evacuation Moment."

"Never heard of it."

"MSU? Lansing Michigan? We play them in football?" I said.

"Bachelors of Engineering Mathematics," he replied.

"I'm not surprised ... I grade your papers," I agreed.

That drew a laugh from the 19 remaining students. When Grace had promised the class that the mathematics was going to be impossible ... she wasn't kidding.

Grace was struggling to get out of her G-suit ... from deep inside the form fitting silk lined rubber the class heard her announce, that we were Masters Candidates and we had graduated from MSU a year early and, "Would somebody please give me a hand out of this muthafucka?" Grace never never talks like that.

That wasn't so easily done. Grace ended up lying on the floor as the guys peeled her like a grape. They flipped her over and That was when Everyone discovered that Grace may be tiny in stature but the rest of her loomed large. My sister has a RACK.

It's not like I didn't know it ... but I didn't KNOW it ... I probably did ... but she's my sister ... and now I wish she wasn't ... if you know what I mean.

One of the serious engineering students leaned over and whispered in my ear, "She's your sister? That's a crime against humanity ... you poor sap. I couldn't stand it. Thank God my sisters are all little kids."

"Really? How old are they?"

He thought for a moment, and got a really sick look, "16, 16, 15, 14, the oldest are identical twins and going to be seventeen ... this week! Oh my God ... I've been blocking. Every single one of them look like my mom ... I have an Oedipal for my mom ... she's hot!!" He slapped himself in the forehead and said, "I can never go home again."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"My sisters."

"Huh?"

"They look just like our mother," he said and then went on, eyes shut. "Blonde, blue eyes, just the slightest Slavic slant, sweet perfect kissable lips, high cheekbones, tiny ears, long ivory neck, such well formed shoulders ... and ... ulp." He stopped before he went any lower.

"Yup," I said, "You can never go home again."

"Huh?"

"You'll go home and find your sisters are 'seeing' boys who look at them just like you look at girls of breeding age," I smiled. "You'll end up killing someone."

"Oh, God. I can never go home again."

"What's going to happen when they come here?" I said, stirring the pot.

"Why would they want to come here?"

"Lemmesee," I closed my eyes, "The seventeen year old twins are thinking about college and who better to help guide them than their older, wiser, college attending brother." He was already looking at me with denial painted on hie face. "Stick with me on this." I said.

"They arrive in town in their birthday present, a 1957 Bel Air convertible ... it's black on black ... leather ... just the kind of car guys look at first and then spot the twin blondes ... did you say they were busty? No ... you stopped before you got that far." I looked at him. His clothes screamed Engineering Frat boy.

"They pull up in front of your frat. The guys are tossing the old pigskin in the yard and one of the brothers spots the car and the beauty therein. He is in instant lust!" I exclaimed. "When did you say they were coming?" I shouted at his back as he ran for his car.

Grace looked at me, "David ... that was mean." She hugged me, "But, it was funny. Do you think about me like that?"

"Truth or lie?"

"Truth."

"Until I saw you flat on your back and your ... assets ... stuck straight up with not one bit of sag ... you were just a beautiful sister..." I looked down. She did too. My admiration was obvious.

"Did I do that?"

"What do you think?"

She kissed me on the cheek. "I think that looks really big and I don't want to find out."

"Find out what?"

"If it hurts."

"Then, we're sibs again."

"Yup," she giggled, "For a while."

DAYAMN! Sisters!

In the morning, we flew up to Alpena and that's when the circus started. Chief Brewster and his minions were firmly established in residence.

We had exceeded our hundred hour inspection by two hundred hours and rather than bother the CAA about it, the AD-2Q was taken on charge by the reserves. Grace and I were seated at two school desks in opposite corners of the C-130 hangar and given a test. We passed. As soon as the Sergeant in charge finished grading the test he called us forward, and like actors and businessmen inducted into the service because they had a perceived skill unavailable elsewhere, we were suddenly and regretfully Lieutenants in the Navy Reserves. The Sergeant saluted us and called us Sir. Grace was taken on as G.A. Austin, pilot, (for the duration). And I was listed as D.J. Austin, pilot, (for the duration).

While the Air Force was playing fast and loose with rules and regulations, Chief Brewster and his minions replaced our carbureted Wright R-3350-22 engine with a fuel injected -26WA. The damn thing was brand new and cost $88,200.00 in the crate ... can ... whatever.

All that and we only lost two hours of flight time. It skiffed on the ninth, there were a couple of days of 11knot wind and there were a couple of cold fronts but, all together, October was glorious. The Wednesday night classes were a welcome break from flying.

We moved to Selfridge the first of November. Our boat was glad to see us. We got in one weekend on the water, just Grace and I ... and uncle General Harry ... and Janeway and a new girl whose name I didn't catch, probably because it wasn't thrown.

The weather on Lake St. Clair was fine ... especially for November. After the sail and cleanup, the boat moved to winter storage. The mast was pulled, the hull steamed and the marina promised the K5 would be painted ... orange ... and ready for us April 30th, 1957. We flew home to be greeted by stacks of mail and grocery shopping. We were back to Selfridge and finished Saginaw Bay in two days. I feel I should explain. While October was glorious ... the warmest, calmest October on record with 26 days of clear skies and calm warm breezes, November had NINE days of sunshine ... all month. It was chilly if not downright cold. The October southerly breezes, warm and mild, made a sudden shift to directly from the Pole. They picked up ... and picked up and then they ran.

On the 16th, all hell broke loose. The wind started on the 15th after dinner. A series of storms moved down the Lake with winds as high as 60 knots. It seemed that we would just finish our walk around and buckle up before the blast began again. We weren't the only people grounded.