7 comments/ 14636 views/ 6 favorites Georgie Girl Ch. 10-12 By: coaster2 This story was edited by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks and appreciation. Any errors are mine alone. Previously posted on another site. ***** Chapter 10 Sanity Prevails It took a couple of days before normalcy returned to the home. Sarah was badly shaken up by the events and it took all of Thomas's personal skills to help her get over the trauma. Georgette was more resilient. After all, she'd been through this before. Nan acted as if nothing had happened. It was as if she'd swatted a pesky fly. She had shot Bradley in the lower abdomen and crotch. He was fortunate that he was wearing fairly heavy pants and they absorbed some of the bird shot pellets. But not all of them. He was under guard in hospital before being moved to the San Francisco lockup. Three more serious charges were added to the already long list. This time there would be no bail. The city police questioned us all individually and took the pistol and shotgun as evidence. There was some talk of Nan violating an ordinance about discharging a firearm within the city, but Devon reminded the district attorney's office that this was an election year and the fallout from trying to prosecute a seventy-nine year old woman for defending herself and her family would go over like a lead balloon. Once the police had confirmed Bradley Little's track record with the Placer County sheriff's department, the issue was dropped. "You handled that 410 like an old pro," I said to Nan that weekend. We were sitting on the back deck once more and Nan was enjoying a Tequila Sunrise while I had my usual Anchor Steam. "I've shot it a time or two. Usually just to get rid of pests. Crows and stray cats and the like. It doesn't have much of a kick and I don't shoot to kill, just to scare them off." "It looked to me that you shot just where you were aiming," I suggested. "Of course I did. I couldn't miss at ten feet. I didn't want to kill him, just knock him down so you could take the gun away from him. The look on your face told me you were about to jump him. I figured I'd better take him down before someone got shot, even accidentally. He didn't look too steady with that gun." "I couldn't let him take Georgette. I had to take the risk, but you saved the day, Nan. You are one amazing lady," I smiled, hugging her to me. "We had family to protect, Johnny. Family comes first ... always." "Yeah. Always." Bradley had been released from the hospital but was held in custody in San Francisco, facing an attempted murder charge to go along with his other crimes. There would be no bail since he had violated his bail conditions in Placer County. "He didn't look anything like the Bradley I knew," Georgette said sadly. "I almost didn't recognize him. I wonder how he knew we were on the deck?" "He probably heard voices if he was sneaking around the front," I said. "Kind of a risky thing, considering it was daylight still. I have a feeling he's deteriorated since we last saw him. Not just his appearance, but his mental state. I wouldn't be surprised if they sent him to a full security mental hospital for a while. He sure as hell won't get better in prison." "As long as they keep him locked up and away from us," Georgette said. "I've stopped caring about what happens to him. I know I didn't love him, but he was my husband for a while. But ... now ... I just don't care. He threatened the people I love and I won't forgive that. Not ever!" "I can't imagine he will be out on his own for a long time, Dear" I suggested. "I think we can finally say we've seen the last of him." "You mind if an old girl joins you?" Nan's voice came from behind us. "Not at all," I answered quickly. "Annie Oakley is always welcome in this group." "Very funny," she said with a frown which quickly turned into a smile. "John, there's something I wanted to show you. Would you and Georgie come with me?" I looked at Georgette and she shrugged, indicating she didn't know what this was about. Nan led the way across the shallow yard toward her garage. I saw her take a small black device out of her slacks pocket as we walked around the garage toward the lane. As we arrived at the front, I could see the garage door was lifting and revealing a dust-laden fitted cover over a large object. Georgette was squeezing my arm and had a mile-wide smile on her kisser. She knew what this was. We carefully removed the dusty shroud from what turned out to be a very large car. As we took the cover outside and hung it over the fence, I turned back to see what we had revealed. It was a red convertible, and it was in what appeared to be very new condition. Except, it was not a new car. "This is Cleopatra's Barge," Nan announced. "My husband Harlan named it that when he got it fifty-seven years ago. It's a 1953 Buick Roadmaster Convertible. We had some great times just cruising around with the top down back in those days. Two years before he passed, he had it all updated and repainted to make it just like new, only better. The top is new, the tires and other things that tend to rot are new. I have a list of all the things that were fixed or changed on it. "It'll take a few hours to get it running again, but when it is, it will be my engagement gift to you two. I can't drive it ... I couldn't even when I was young. It was just too much car for me. But I'd like to see you two lovebirds enjoying it just like my Harlan intended. I don't want to see it in my garage like this any more. I want to see it out on the road." I was stunned. We were stunned. The car, what we could see of it, was beautiful. Painted what I called fire-engine red in color, with white, gray and red upholstery, and huge whitewalls on wire spoke wheels. It was amazing with its sleek, swooping chrome strip arcing down to the rocker panel in front of the rear wheel, then following the wheel opening up before running straight to the tail lights. The fabric top was an off white and the dust cover had protected it from getting dirty or moldy. As much as I could see inside the cabin, it was completely restored with electric windows, a power top, an automatic transmission and a radio. I had never seen one of these before and I was fascinated. I would love to have seen it in the sunlight, but for now there was no way to move it. "I don't know what to say, Nan. This is too much. You and the family have been so generous to me ... to my family ... that we feel overwhelmed. I just don't know what to say." "Say 'thank you,' Darling," Georgette crooned in my ear. "It's something you're just going to have to get used to. One of these days, you and I will sit down with Nan and she'll tell you how all this came about. It's an amazing story, and I'm hoping a hundred years from now, the name John Smith will be a big part of that story." I really didn't have any sense of just how wealthy the two families were that I was involved with. It must be substantial, and yet they didn't live like kings. Oh, true, the house was a magnificent tribute to a bygone era, but they lived relatively modest lives. No servants, no really exotic toys except the lodge, but the underpinnings of the families spoke of financial security for some time to come. That was the difficult part for me. They were generous and thankful and welcoming to me and I didn't know how to handle it. "Nan, this is a rare gift. It will be treated with the love your late husband felt for it and you. I will make sure it remains in the family and is kept in the condition he would have expected. Thank you," I said, embracing her and kissing her cheek. "Georgie-Girl, this young man is going to be a winner. I can feel it in my bones. You've caught a rare one here." "I already know that, Nan. We're going to make sure this family continues to thrive. Who knows, if we have three children, one might be a lawyer, one a venture capitalist, and one an inventor. How would that suit you?" "If I live long enough to see those three great-grandchildren, I'll be a very happy woman," she said brightly. "Well, we aren't going to waste a lot of time getting started, are we Darling?" she turned to me. "I've been given my instructions, Nan. I know my duty. I'm sure you'll be around long after you're able to bounce the youngest on your knee." "That's my boy! I know you two will make some beautiful babies." *** The car had been stored properly and it only took a few hours to refill the fluids, re-inflate the tires, recharge the battery, and vacuum the last of the dust off. When I looked over the list of modifications, I saw that the electrics had been upgraded to twelve volt from six, the brakes upgraded to oversized but still drum, and the tires were made of modern material but in the proper period size and style, complete with wide whitewalls. When the mechanic started it and let it idle for a minute or so, it ticked over so quietly I had to approach it to be sure it was running. He backed it out of the garage and I rode with him as he brought it around to the front of the house and parked it carefully at the curb. I got out of it and walked away to get a good look at it. It was magnificent. It immediately attracted a crowd who wanted to know all about it and for most of them, what it was. And what was it? It was a fifty-seven year old icon of American pride and achievement. It had style and grace and said the owner was a success. I couldn't wait to drive it and have Georgette by my side, the top down, the wind in our hair, an object of envy and admiration as we rolled along. I spent several hours cleaning out Nan's garage and making more room for the Buick. The owner's manual was in the glove box and said that this was a Buick Roadmaster Skylark. The manual itself was a piece of history. To me, the most striking feature on the car was the grill. When I found the time, I looked up the car on the Internet and learned more about it, but to me, the reality was the steel and rubber and fabric that I could touch and sit on and experience. Devon and Thomas were delighted that the car was back on the road. Devon was too young to remember it, but he and Thomas had the same impression of it as I did. This was something special to be treasured and protected. There was no way it was going to be sitting in some supermarket parking lot to be the target of some careless person's shopping cart. This was a car for special occasions, like a wedding for instance. *** I had finished my final examinations and I was reasonably confident in the results. It was time to head for Coeur d'Alene with Georgette. The Buick would stay in the garage and we would rely on the BMW to get us to my home. We said our goodbyes to everyone bright and early on a Wednesday morning and set off for northern Idaho. We pushed hard that first day, spelling each other off every two hours. We stopped in Bend, Oregon for the night and got another early start the next morning. We arrived at the Lakeside Motor Inn just before three on Friday afternoon. The first person I saw was my father carrying his tool box toward the office. I honked the horn and he turned to see who it was. He didn't recognize the car right away, but a moment later he waved, put down the box and waited for us to park. "Hey, Dad. Good to see you. Still doing my job, huh," I kidded as we hugged and then shook hands. Georgette got a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek as we walked to the office to greet Mom. "John! Welcome home," Mom gushed, grabbing me in a big hug and giving me a kiss. "And Georgette ... so good you could spend some time here too," Mom repeated her greeting, complete with a hug and a kiss. We would be staying in my old room in the main building and Dad helped me with our luggage and getting organized. There was no pretense that we weren't sleeping together. My brother Jared walked in and grabbed me and hugged me too. "I heard you got in some trouble this time," he said, casting a glance at Georgette. "If this is the lady you were with, then it was worth it. Hi, I'm Jared, John's brother." "Hi Jared, I'm Georgette Fulton, your brother's soon-to-be fiancée." "Say, John," my mother butted in, "just when will we see Georgette's ring?" "Soon, Mom, soon. We haven't gone shopping yet, but we'll deal with it this weekend I hope," I said, looking at my future bride. "Good answer," Georgette grinned, wrapping her arm around mine. I had already decided that the money I had been saving for a car was best put toward a ring. With Georgette's car and the Buick in reserve, I really wasn't desperate for transportation. "Is there any more information about the trial?" Dad asked. "The trial was scheduled for June 18th in Placer County Court," I said, "but Bradley has been arraigned in San Francisco on the attempted murder charge. I doubt they will surrender him to Tahoe. If there's going to be at trial, it will be in San Francisco," I told him. "What the heck was he thinking?" Dad asked. "That's what no one can understand," Georgette answered. "We think he's going to self-destruct, but I guess we'll know when it happens. His father is trying to get him committed for a psychiatric examination. He's obviously not in his right mind." "Is it true your grandmother shot this guy?" Jared asked in amazement. Georgette nodded. "We had surveillance on him, but he slipped by it and showed up at our house, waving a gun around. He was threatening to take me and kill John. Nan, my grandmother, had a small shotgun and when he started to point the gun at her, she shot him. It didn't kill him, but that was the end of the threat and they put him in the hospital under guard, and then back to jail." "I was surprised how much power that little 'peashooter' had," I said. "It stopped him cold." "That's two too many narrow escapes you've had, John," my father said. "I hope we've seen the last of them. They've taken a lot out of your mother and me, much less what they must have done to you and Georgette's family." "You won't get an argument from me, Dad. That's twice I wondered if I was going to live to see the next day and I don't want to repeat any of it." "By the way, Thomas phoned last night to tell you to check your e-mail. There should be a message from Dow Chemical on it." "Oh ... good. I'm hoping that's the answer to my request for technical support on my project. I'd better check it right away." Dad had installed wireless for all the guests and ourselves, so with a quick trip to our room, I pulled out my laptop and opened it. In a few seconds I was logged on and checking my e-mail account. It was there, a message from rlyman.techserv@filmtec.corp. I opened it. Good news. We have a go! Let me know when you can be in Midland for a development mtg. Best time is last half of August. Regards, Rex "Woohoo!" I shouted. I had my first partner. That brought Georgette, Dad and Jared to the room. "I'm in. They want to set up a meeting for late August to start development. I'll have to go to Michigan to meet with them, but it's a start. I guess my presentation got their attention after all." "Congratulations, John," my father said with obvious pride. "This is turning out to be quite a year for you." "John," Georgette gushed, "I'm so proud of you. This is just the beginning." "Nice going, bro," Jared added, "whatever it is you are doing." He laughed. "It's no big deal," I assured him. "I'm just turning lead into gold." Mom was equally happy and I called Thomas, Sarah and Nan to let them know as well. Thomas had made the meeting with Dow possible and I wanted to keep him fully informed, just as he had asked. Never disappoint a venture capitalist when you're in the invention business. A phone call came the following week. "John, it's Devon desBiens calling. You can stop worrying about the trial. It's been called off. Bradley Little has had a complete breakdown while in custody in San Francisco. His father has had him committed for psychiatric evaluation and there is little doubt he will be found unfit to stand trial." "Oh ... that's great news. I mean, for us. I'm sure Mr. Little senior is relieved too. Can I assume there's no need for us to concern ourselves with the Tahoe City trial?" "That's a pretty safe assumption. I've contacted the county attorney and he's confirmed they won't be prosecuting him unless San Francisco chooses for forego the charges against him. Trust me, that isn't going to happen. I'm sure you'll be getting a letter to that effect from both jurisdictions." "I hope so. I don't want to have to go through anything like that ever again." "Say hello to everyone for me and have a great summer." "Yes ... of course, Devon. Thank you again. Goodbye." I relayed the information to Georgette and my family and there was a collective sigh of relief. "Does this mean it's finally over?" my mother asked. "Yes," I said. "He's not going to be out of someone's care for a long, long time." "I assume Uncle Devon will tell Mother and Father," Georgette suggested. "I'm sure they'll be just as relieved." "This calls for an Alpha," Dad said with a grin. "What's an Alpha?" my fiancée asked. "It's one of our local beers," Dad explained. "The Laughing Dog Brewery is just north of us near Sandpoint. We like to support the local businesses. Alpha Dog India Pale Ale is the proper name. Around here it's just known as Alpha." "What about wineries for us girls," Georgette asked with a grin. "Plenty of those too," Mother said. "Would you care for a nice local Malbec? Or perhaps a Pinot Gris?" "I think the white would suit me," she replied. *** We were sitting on the deck of the inn, overlooking the lake. I was watching Georgette sneaking looks at the ring on her left hand. We had chosen it last Saturday and picked it up yesterday after it had been sized. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off it. She had seen it in the jewelry store counter display and immediately knew it was the one for her. I don't think the whole transaction took thirty minutes from the time we walked into the store until we left. "John, would you show me your presentation that you made to Dow?" "Uhhm ... yeah ... sure. It's kind of technical." "That's all right. I'd like to know more about it ... I mean ... it's so important to you that I'd like to know what it is going to do and how." I looked at her and there was no doubt her request was serious. Actually, I was pleased. I didn't expect her to be that interested in my work, but it seemed she was. "Why don't we look at it after dinner?" I suggested. "Good," she smiled, then gave me a nice warm kiss. She surprised me once again when we sat down to see my presentation on the laptop. She had a pencil and a notepad with her. "There's no quiz at the end, you know," I kidded. "I might have some questions, though," she said with a raised eyebrow. I went through the presentation, occasionally simplifying some of the commentary so that it didn't become too complicated for her. I watched her make some notes and several had question marks beside them. I let her decide when to interrupt. "What do you do with the gunk you take out of the water at the filters?" she asked as I finished. "It's collected in self-contained disposable containers, then it's either dumped or incinerated. Depends on if it's toxic or just ... gunk," I chuckled. "So, what Dow makes is the filters, right?" "Yes. That's a critical part of the equipment. We aren't just removing solids from the water, but other contaminates as well. Chemicals that are found in nature and some that are man-made. There are four steps to the process, but not all of them are required for every situation: filtration, absorption, chemical disinfection, and ultra-violet purification. Filtration is the most technically demanding and that's why I need Dow's help." Georgie Girl Ch. 10-12 "So these filters ... they must be micro-filters then. Really, really fine to take out the very smallest particles." "Right again," I said. "When you look at them, they don't look like filters. They look like a fabric, but no fabric will do what these filters will do." We spent two hours discussing the project and the objectives. I shouldn't have been surprised at Georgette's interest or ability to grasp the technology, but I was. I hadn't taken into account her intelligence, inquisitiveness and what appeared to be a native mechanical understanding. When we were looking at the Buick after it was first made roadworthy, she remarked on the difference between the mechanicals of the BMW and the Buick and just how far the development of engine, transmission and suspension had come. The Buick had a two speed automatic while the BMW had an eight speed. Electronic stabilization wasn't even thought of when the Buick was built, and the cast iron "nail head" V8 in the Buick bore no resemblance to the German car's double overhead cam in-line six that, with the aid of a turbo, produced nearly twice the horsepower of the Buick with less displacement, half the weight, and far better gas mileage. "You think I'm just another pretty face," she kidded me after I closed the laptop. "Not any more. Maybe you've missed your calling. Maybe you're the one who should have become an engineer." She looked past me with a distant gaze. "Maybe you're right." *** Dad had called a family meeting, including Georgette. "I realize Mallory isn't here for this," he began, "but I'll call her after this meeting and let her know what's going on. For the past six months, we ... your mother and I ... have been in discussions with Continental Divide Inns about their acquiring Lakeside. They have made us an offer which, to be honest, is far above anything we ever dreamed of. As reluctant as we are to sell, it means lifetime financial security for us and our family. "We have decided to sell, effective September 30th this year. We will remain for the following year to permit the smooth transition of ownership and management. Our employees are all guaranteed their jobs and Continental intends to expand and add facilities as soon as their architects can provide the plans." "Where are we going to live?" Jared asked. "We're not going anywhere," Mother smiled. "We'll be building a new home here in Coeur d'Alene in the next year, ready for us when our contract is up. What we'll do to keep ourselves busy is not yet decided. One thing is sure, however, this is where we want to live." I was smiling, thinking just how similar this was to my situation. Unexpected financial security for my parents would be the ultimate payoff for all the hard work and dedication they put into this place. "Congratulations, Mom ... Dad, this is great news," I said, standing and going to hug Mom and shake Dad's hand, then hug him too. "It's like you said a few days ago. This has been an amazing year. Not all of it good, but most of it." Georgette was right there with me, hugging and kissing Mom and Dad in congratulations. She understood what this meant for the family. "I guess I don't have to worry about a car for college then," Jared said carefully. "We'll see," my father said with a stern look at his youngest son. "Things given need to be earned. You can do that only one way in this household. With hard work, like your brother." "Oh, oh! Don't make me the bad guy, Dad," I said to myself. Jared's grades in his senior year had been pretty good, but I knew he was very smart and didn't have to work hard to achieve them. I was sure my parents knew that too. I was also sure they would figure out a way that Jared could earn that car they could now easily afford. It would be interesting to see how my brother responded. He was headed to Boise State's Art program with photography and graphic design as his chosen majors. Chapter 11 And Now Back to Work I don't think it was possible to have a better summer than we had that year. The weather was great, the Lakeside Inn was full to capacity, there were no catastrophes to deal with, and Georgette was beside me all the way. And I mean that literally. It didn't take her long to get bored and before I knew it she was following me and Dad around as we made our repairs and upgrades throughout the peak period. She got a good feeling for how Dad operated and more than once remarked just how effective he was as a manager without being ... a "manager." We showed her how we did our repairs, and by the end of summer, she had a pretty good working knowledge of plumbing, simple wiring, locksets, and assorted other maintenance issues. She had no aversion to getting her hands dirty. Of course, she did find time to get a lovely tan while wearing a fairly revealing bikini on our deck. Her dark blonde hair was quite a bit lighter as well. I caught Jared and my father sneaking a look at her more than once. I couldn't blame them, mind you. She was spectacular and there were times when I couldn't take my eyes off her either. On the other hand, I was the only one who got to see her without her bikini. I can tell you that she had managed to reduce the tan lines to the barest minimum ... and I do mean barest. Something important that I wanted to do was accomplished early in our stay. I visited our family doctor, Henry Reinfeld, and had myself tested. I had two objectives. One was to insure that I could father children. A repeat of what we assumed was Brad's problem could be devastating to Georgette. I was assured that my "swimmers" were full strength and plentiful. The other was to screen both Georgette and me for any hereditary diseases that we might not be aware of. A friend of ours married without that testing and their first child was born with Spina Bifida. The consequences were tragic, both for the child and the marriage. The bride's family had some history of this condition that wasn't revealed until after the child was born. I couldn't have that happen to us. Once again, the tests proved negative and we would enter into the marriage with confidence. As the end of summer approached, I began to prepare myself for my meeting with Dow Chemical's technical people in Midland. The date had been set for Thursday, August 19th and I had made plane reservations to and from Detroit. Rex Lyman would pick me up and drive me to Midland. Accommodations were provided by Dow as I would be their guest. I was excited at the prospect and anxious to get their commitment to the project. Georgette drove me to the Spokane airport on Wednesday morning and saw me off with a loving, warm kiss. I would be returning Saturday morning and she would pick me up. My flight was a total of five-and-a-half hours in the air with a stopover in Denver, arriving just before seven pm in Detroit. I was mildly concerned about the time difference, but I assumed the adrenalin would keep me going at least until the meeting. I was as prepared as I was ever going to be. Rex was waiting for me when my flight arrived and drove me to Midland, a trip of over two hours. It was a chance for him to brief me on what to expect the next day. Some of the people were going to be technical, some financial, and some marketing. He warned me that it would be stressful for someone as young as me, with no experience in the corporate world. He advised me to stick to what I knew and not guess or offer opinions that I couldn't back up. I was booked into the Plaza Suites and found the room bigger than I would ever need. The inn had a restaurant, an indoor pool, and a fully equipped exercise room. I would be fine here. I had purchased what passed for a meal on the plane and when Rex left after making sure I was safely in my room, I was ready for a shower and sleep. I called Georgette to let her know I had arrived and then went to bed. It was almost eleven on the bedside clock and I set the alarm for six the next morning. Luckily, I fell asleep almost right away. I was up before the alarm went off and showered again, shaved, dressed and headed for the restaurant. It was almost empty when I arrived and I had an opportunity to go over my notes one more time. I was confident that I was as prepared as possible. Rex arrived at seven-thirty and brought a coffee with him to the room. We talked for a few minutes about who would be there and he gave me a "cheat sheet" with their names and job titles. Just before eight, we left for the Dow complex and the meeting. We were a couple of minutes early for the eight-thirty meeting and I helped myself to a water bottle as we waited. When I was introduced to Rex's boss, Bob Mears, he took us into the conference room and helped me set up the projector for my presentation. Five minutes later, people began to file into the room. Another five minutes later, and everyone who was expected had arrived and Rex introduced me to them. I got a fairly friendly welcome from them and that settled me a bit. It took two hours to get through the presentation, twice as long as normal. The questions began almost immediately and came from every direction. I was a bit nervous at first, but as we worked through the slides I began to feel their interest, and the kinds of questions changed. I certainly didn't feel over-confident, but I wasn't shaking in my boots, either. I would glance at Rex and Bob once in a while, and would see the occasional smile and nod. Apparently, they felt I was doing okay. We took a short break at the end of the presentation. Some of the participants had phone calls to make and others, like me, just needed to catch our breath. Rex and Bob Mears were complimentary about how I handled myself. There were questions I couldn't answer and I said so. Bob thought that was the smart thing to do. Don't guess if you don't know. It was well after noon when we wrapped up the meeting and I shook a lot of hands and thanked them all for coming and listening to me. I'm not sure what they expected, but I got the impression they thought it was a worthwhile exercise. Rex and Bob took me to lunch when the last of the participants had left. "I didn't expect it would take that long," I admitted. "I hope I didn't overstay my welcome." "John, the questions during and after the meeting mean you got their attention," Bob assured me. "I think I can safely say that you'll be getting some more feedback from them in the near future. Your progress will be tracked and any assistance we can supply will be forthcoming." "That's great, Bob ... Rex, I can't thank you enough," I said with relief. "It's one more problem I can push to the side." "What will you work on next?" Bob asked. "The physical design," I said. "I need to start putting the schematics into actual hardware now. I've got to make sure that I can shoehorn everything into the box I want it to fit. I know that's backwards engineering, but the concept is the size and portability, not the capability. If it was just another water decontamination system, it wouldn't be unique." "How do you feel about the challenge?" Rex asked. "I need a 'plumber.' A guy who knows how to put this system into a confined space." "Something like an aeronautical engineer?" Bob suggested. "I've thought about that," I nodded. "It's probably the best approach to begin with. I'm not thinking airliner size, I'm thinking rocket or small jet aircraft size. Something where space is at a premium. Someone who can think in that context." "We've arranged a tour of the facilities this afternoon, John. When is your flight home?" "I didn't know what to expect, so I booked a flight for Saturday morning. I might rent a car a look around the area." "One of our corporate aircraft is moving to Minneapolis tomorrow morning," Bob said. "You should be able to change your ticket there and get home by Friday evening if that suits you." "Oh ... that would be great. Let me check on flights and I'll let you know." "You can check on them now. I can log you onto our site," Rex volunteered. A half hour later, I was booked out of Minneapolis on the same airline I was ticketed for and would be home by six-thirty the same night. I called Georgette on my cell and let her know of the change in plans. She wanted to hear all about the meeting and I promised to call her back that evening. "That was my fiancée, Georgette Fulton. She'll pick me up at the airport." "Is that Thomas Fulton's daughter?" Bob asked. "Yes ... do you know him?" "I've known Thomas for some years. Before I came to Dow, I was in the processed food business in California. He found some capital for us to expand and we got to know each other then. He was the one who told me about your project." "I know he talked to someone at Dow, but I didn't know it was you." "Yes, it was me. I owe Thomas a debt for helping a struggling business survive and then thrive. It's nice to be able to pay just a little of that debt back," he smiled. "I owe him a great deal also. He gave me permission to marry his daughter. That's as big as it gets for me." "You're marrying into a very fine family, John. Don't be surprised if your concept becomes viable, that Thomas isn't first in line to find capital for you." "Well, that thought has crossed my mind, but first things first. I've got to prove myself with a prototype that meets the specifications." "Good luck," Bob smiled. I spent the balance of the afternoon with Rex on a tour of the facilities before he drove me back to the hotel. I would catch the shuttle to the airport in Saginaw on Friday morning for the flight to Minneapolis. Rex gave me instructions to find their hangar. I thanked him and Bob for their hospitality and generosity with a flight on their aircraft. I felt they had been extremely courteous and genuine in their interest in the Smith Water Treatment System, as I had begun to call it. I was sure I could come up with a better name when the time came. The Dow aircraft was a twin turboprop with seating for eight. It was very nice and well appointed. I was not the only one on the flight. As it turned out, the vice president of the plastics division was on board along with three other men from their household products division. Our two-and-a-half hour flight passed quickly as we talked about my project and what was going on in the plastics division. I got the impression the vice president thought the Filmtec division should be under plastics at some point. I thanked the vice president for allowing me to ride with them and took a shuttle to the Minneapolis-St. Paul international terminal. I had a three hour wait for my flight, so I headed for the first snack bar I could find. I ordered a local ale and a sandwich to keep me going until I got home. The plane was on time, and we left Minneapolis bound for Denver and a one hour layover before moving on to Spokane. I thought about Rex and his travel and wondered how he managed it. He said he was on the road three weeks out of five at this time of the year. In the fall and spring, it was three out of four. I could see how it would wear on him and I began to understand the term "road warrior" much better. Georgette was there to greet me as I walked into the baggage claim area. I got my usual enthusiastic greeting and a loving kiss before we headed for the parking lot. Less than an hour later we were home and I was telling my family all about the meeting and what I believed I had achieved. Mom suggested I write Bob and Rex a letter of thank you for the hospitality and the special consideration on their aircraft. I would do that in the morning. I called Thomas and let him know how the meeting went and passed on sincere greetings from Bob Mears. I thanked him again for the opportunity I didn't think I would have been able to get on my own. It looked like his effort on my behalf was going to pay off. It re-energized my project and I knew it was time I went looking for that "plumber." "Are you too tired to let me welcome you home?" Georgette asked as we snuggled in bed. "When I get too tired for you, just take me out and shoot me. I won't be any good to anyone anyway." She didn't laugh, but she did smile. The smile was a knowing one, like the cat about to catch the canary. "You shouldn't leave me on my own like you did. It causes things to happen in me," she purred. Again the cat image drifted through my consciousness. "What kind of things?" Might as well play along. "I begin to imagine what I will do with you when you return. Sexual things. Things my corrupt mind dreams up. Things only my interviews have discovered." "And what do you do about these 'things?'" "What would you expect me to do? I masturbate, of course." She said it so matter-of-factly that I was surprised. "What do you do?" she asked, the knowing grin now more pronounced. "Masturbate," I admitted without even thinking. After all, we had talked about this before ... was it years ago ... or only a few months? "So ... now that you're here in person once more ... captive in our bed ... you know what I want, don't you?" It was now a throaty, seductive, half-whisper ... her lips so close to my ear that I could feel their presence along with her hot breath. "You want the real thing," I growled, pushing her onto her back. "Any special requests?" "Fuck me, Johnny. I'm going to come as soon as you touch me ... I know it. Just fuck me, baby. I need it. I need you." It was just like the first time we made love. She came almost the moment I was inside her, her back arching, her body shaking as the orgasm ripped through her, only this time I hung onto the slimmest edge of control, begging myself not to end so quickly. It was a close thing, but as she came down from her high and began to sink back into the bed, I somehow avoided the inevitable. It was as incredible as the first time we had experienced this, but this time I got to see and feel it all. I was sure she had lost consciousness briefly. Her breathing was irregular and beads of sweat formed on her forehead and upper chest. I lay on my side, watching her for several minutes until she was back on planet Earth. "No one has ever done that to me before you, Johnny. No one. The strange thing is, I knew it was going to happen. But I wanted it, you know. It's something that just you and I share. The first time it scared me. But tonight ... I wanted it. It's like a drug ... I wanted it like I wanted you." She rolled to face me, reaching out to touch my face ... my unshaven face. Her hand stroked my cheek, moving down to my chest and finally to my still partially erect penis. I saw the look of surprise and then the smile as she discovered my condition. "You let me do that alone?" "I wanted to see it for myself. I won't forget it either. I had to see it once." "I'm not ready for you, yet," she moaned. "I'm still coming down. It messed with my head." "That's psychological technical talk, is it?" "Yeah. Technical talk," she giggled. "God, Johnny, is it that amazing for you too?" "As far as I can remember. It was our first and I was a bundle of nerve endings. I knew I wasn't going to last very long, but I wasn't ready for what happened. It's still pretty much a blur in my memory." "Is that the 'storage' thing?" "Oh no ... no way! It was so intense. No ... one of these days we'll talk about it again. I think it should be in your book or your dissertation." We lay facing each other for a few minutes, her hand holding my manhood and my hand exploring the body that I was coming to know so well. When her nipples became erect once more, I sensed it was time. We didn't need words. We were communicating on a different level now. She climbed onto me, tossing the sheet back, her eyes fixed on mine, her hand guiding my cock to its destination. She wasn't in any rush to end this joining. I was wide awake for now, my jet lag and fatigue from the tension of the last two days washed away. We made love. Georgie Girl Ch. 10-12 Sometime in the middle of the night I awoke with an urgent need to empty my bladder. That being accomplished, I slipped carefully back into bed, trying not to disturb my sleeping beauty. Without turning toward me, she took my hand and guided it to her breast, pushed her lovely ass back into my groin, sighed, and fell back asleep. *** We were packed and ready for our return trip to San Francisco. I had spent most of the previous day looking over the Lakeside Inn, trying to put the images of my former home clearly into memory. They were all familiar sights, but these might be the last time I saw them as I remembered them. Who knew what the new owners might plan for the buildings? A year from now the family home would be somewhere else. Perhaps not far away, but somewhere else. Christmas and New Years would be in Lake Tahoe this year. The extra accommodations had already been arranged by a neighbor friend of Thomas and Sarah. Their lodge, equally large, would be empty as they vacationed in Hawaii, and it meant everyone from both families could be together at one time. The next opportunity for that would be our wedding. I took the first leg of the return, planning on pushing through to Klamath Falls in southern Oregon. Sharing the nine hour first day would make our second day a lot easier. With Georgette's driving skill, we made it in a little over eight hours, miraculously with no speeding tickets. The BMW was made for this kind of travel. As expected, the next day was "a piece of cake." We arrived back at the fourplex before two o'clock the next day, Saturday. Labor Day was a week away on Monday, giving me plenty of time to pay my tuition and acquire my books and my classroom schedule. It was the beginning of my senior year and I was looking forward to the end of four years of hard work. I had no illusions about my future being easy, but I couldn't imagine it would be any harder than school or college. With a bit of luck and skill, I would be working for myself. Well, myself and my bride ... and then of course, my own family. It didn't take me long to get back into my classroom routine. Three years of experience told me what to expect and there were no surprises any more. Georgette was spending her time split between her interviews and helping me with my courses. It seemed that she was getting deeper and deeper into what I was doing, but I had no reason to complain. We made a great team, both in and out of bed. She used the third bedroom as a study, complete with a large desk and bookcase. We added a layout table for drawings. We were planning ahead. Ideas were now taking shape on paper and I could see some problems arising in making all the components fit in my preconceived "box." I was at the stage where I needed help from an outside source. *** "Hi, Rex, it's John Smith. I need some help on locating a person who could assist me with the physical design of my system. I was wondering ... in your extensive travels ... if you knew of anyone who might fit that need. I've gone about as far as I can go without some new ideas or better solutions." "John, I can't think of anyone off hand, but let me circulate the need and see if any of our guys might know of someone. I'll get back to you as soon as I can." "That's great, Rex. Thanks very much. Say 'Hi' to Bob for me." I hoped they might know someone who could help. If not, I didn't know where to go next without just advertising for someone. Three days later there was a message on our phone from Rex Lyman, asking me to call him on his cell. "So, where are you in this world," I asked him when he answered his cell. "I'm in beautiful downtown Greenville, South Carolina. I called because I might have a lead on guy who could help you. He's been given an early retirement package at Lockheed-Martin. I've known him for a few years. He's a maintenance trainer now, but before that he was involved with me when we were selling the industry propylene and ethylene-glycol for waste treatment and anti-icing fluid. "He really knows his stuff, John. He's not a professional engineer, but it seems to me there are some similarities in what you want to create and where his experience and skills lie. Would you like me to get in touch with him and have him call you?" "Yes, please. If I'm not home I'm likely in class, so have him leave a message on our home phone about where I can call him and when." "Will do. His name is Kevin Riordan, and he's originally from Boston or thereabouts. Served in the Air Force, then joined L-M when he finished his tour. Been here about twelve years. Very sharp guy, John. I think you'll be impressed with his background and his knowledge. "Thank you, Rex. That's really encouraging. I really appreciate your help. I hope he's our guy." "I do too, John. After all, we've both got a stake in this project. Let me know how it goes when you talk to him." "Will do, Rex, and thanks again." When I got home from class on Friday, Georgette was waiting for me. "Hey, Georgie, how was your day?" "Good. Interview number thirty-six is now in the books and I've found a couple of interns who can conduct the testing when the questionnaire is ready. Oh, and you have a phone message from a Kevin Riordan. Who is he?" "He's the guy I told you about that Rex put me onto. He's taking an early retirement from Lockheed-Martin and might be interested in my project. I'm going to talk to him and see if he's right for what I need. Then I'll have to round up some money to hire him." "Don't worry about that. We can handle that internally. We'll get Uncle Devon to set this up as a corporation and keep a separate set of books for your project so we can write off expenses against taxes when the time comes. If he's the right guy, grab him," she said, giving me one of her loving hugs and a kiss. "That's a huge relief, Georgette. I don't have to go hat-in-hand to the bank to borrow money. I know Dad was going to help, but if we can look after it ourselves, it would keep it under better control and it wouldn't stress the family." "It's nice not to have to worry about it, isn't it?" she said with a smile. "Very nice," I agreed. *** "Mister Riordan, I'm John Smith. Rex Lyman suggested I talk to you about a project I'm working on. I have some obstacles to overcome and Rex felt you might be the man to help me." "Yeah, Rex gave me a rough outline of your concept and how Dow is interested. It sounds like a darn fine idea to me, but I haven't seen what you're working on." "I thought we should get together and talk about it. If you can give me your opinion on the direction I'm going and if the project appeals to you and you think you can make a contribution, we could talk about a contract." "Rex tells me you're still in college. Is that right?" "Yes, it is. I was wondering if you were finished at Lockheed-Martin yet and could spare the time to come out here. I would handle your expenses." "I'm finished up now, just trying to decide where I'm going to go from here. I understand you're in San Francisco. Nice place." "Yes, that's right. Do you have family in Greensville?" "Nope. I'm a widower. My wife died a few years ago. My boys are all grown and scattered with their families. I don't really have a place to call home." "Well, why don't you plan on coming out here when it's convenient? I can give you some of my non-class time and weekends to talk about what I'm trying to accomplish. Naturally, I'd need you to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement." "Understood. All right, I'll make some reservations and let you know when I'll be coming. Don't worry about the airfare. I've got a bunch of first class passes from my previous job. I was a trainer for some of the airlines on the company's behalf. They liked to make sure I was happy," he chuckled. "Great. Let me know your schedule and someone will pick you up if I'm not available. Thanks, Mister Riordan, I'm looking forward to meeting you." "Do you mind if he stays with us in the spare bedroom?" I asked Georgette. "It'll only be for a couple of days." "No, I don't mind. He'll have enough privacy with our office and the bathroom between us and him," she smiled. "Besides, it's our privacy that you're really thinking of, isn't it?" "True," I grinned. Chapter 12 "The Plumber" Kevin Riordan arrived in the late afternoon on the second Friday in October. He had thought about how to maximize the trip and planned it to arrive on the Columbus Day weekend, giving us two full days to work on the project. He had an open ticket for his return to South Carolina, so we had no deadline to worry about. I had a sign with his name on it to identify me and he walked straight to me. He was tall, probably a couple of inches taller than I, but I doubted he weighed much more. He was lean and upright with a purposeful stride, gray hair in a short brush cut that I thought might be a carry-over from his Air Force days. Pale blue eyes that were clear and clothes that displayed a neat, careful appearance that spoke of discipline. I was impressed. "Mister Smith, I presume," he smiled. "John Smith," I acknowledged. "Please call me John." "Kevin Riordan, and I'm Kevin to my friends and acquaintances." "Any baggage to collect?" I asked. "Nope, it's all in here," he said, lifting a single grip bag. "I prefer to travel light." We walked to the short-term parking lot and he stopped cold when he saw my Buick sitting before him. "Where the hell did you get this?" he said, walking around the big red machine in obvious awe. "It was a gift from a very special lady whom you'll meet this weekend. It was her late husband's and had been in storage for a few years after he had passed away. I don't take it out very often, but my fiancée is using her car, so I brought it along for the short ride to our place. We live on the south side of the city and only a few minutes from here." "You're a very lucky young man, John. I've been restoring a '53 Studebaker Starlight Coupe for the last five years. I still think it's one of the nicest looking cars ever built. But this is something, too. A whole different kind of statement." "Well, climb in and we'll get going." I parked the car in the garage and led Kevin into the house via the back door. "This is quite a place. Not what I expected. There must be some history to it," he said, looking around the rooms. "There is. Its foundation is from 1885, but the rest was built after the 1906 earthquake." I went on to give him the short version of the house's history. "First the Buick, and now the house. That's quite an introduction to San Francisco," he said with a smile. "Your first time here?" I asked. "Hell, no. I lost count of the number of times I've been here, but only at the airport. I'd come in, do my job, go to the airport hotel, grab a flight the next morning and be on my way. I think I've actually been in the city proper maybe twice in twelve years." "Well, since we aren't under that kind of time pressure, we'll make sure you get to see the place for a change. No point in coming all the way out here and not get a chance to play tourist." He nodded, still examining the living and dining room. I took him up to his room and showed him the bathroom as well. He could use either the upstairs or downstairs bath. When I told him we used the upstairs, he chose the downstairs unit. I offered him an Anchor Steam, something he remembered from his previous visits. Georgette arrived home a few minutes later and I went through the introductions. She excused herself to go upstairs and change out of her business suit and into her more usual jeans and polo shirt. She seemed quite comfortable around Kevin. Nan was joining us for dinner and arrived just after six. "Nan, this is Kevin Riordan, the man I'm hoping can help make my dream a reality. Kevin, Nanette desBiens is Georgette's grandmother on her mother's side." "Just call me Nan like everyone else does, Kevin. I'm the next door neighbor on this side," she said pointing. My son and daughter live on the other side. Georgette's parents live next to me on the end of the house. I suppose John told you a little bit about the place?" "Yes he did. It's a beautiful home, so perfectly kept. If this was in Charleston, the Preservation Society probably wouldn't let you mow the grass without a permit," he chuckled. "Well, young man," Nan said, "it isn't much different here. We can't even paint the outside trim without permission." Kevin was shaking his head. "It's been a long time since anyone called me 'young man,'" he chuckled. "It's a matter of comparison," Nan replied without elaboration. "You sound pretty young to me," Kevin said. "Nice of you to say so, Kevin. I'll keep that in mind," she smiled. "And that was your Buick that John was driving?" "Yes ... that's 'Cleopatra's Barge' as my husband called it. What did you think of it?" "I thought it was great. I'm restoring a '53 Studebaker myself. I wasn't born when those two cars were new. They are so distinctive looking though. Nothing like them any more. Like this house, they deserve to be preserved." Georgette served dinner, a lasagna she'd prepared earlier and reheated, along with a tossed salad and some cheese bread. It was a good choice because nothing was left by the end of the meal. "That was great, Georgette," Kevin said. "I'd forgotten what home cooked meals were like. I mostly buy heat-and-serve things at the grocery store, or eat out if I'm lazy." "It doesn't seem to be doing you any harm," Nan said. "You're as lean as whippet." "The luck of genetics, I think," he replied. "But thanks for the compliment." I could see that Nan and Kevin had hit it off, although I was hard-pressed to think of anyone who didn't take an instant liking to her. Kevin was a laid-back sort of guy with some traces of his New England accent still present. I guessed his age at mid-to-late fifties and as Nan had observed, he appeared to be very fit. I had high hopes for his ability to help me. After dinner, I gave Kevin the presentation on my laptop, hoping it would grab his interest. I shouldn't have worried. He was asking a number of questions as soon as I got to the guts of how the system was expected to work. Georgette was sitting in on the discussion and passed Kevin a pencil and notepad. He smiled his thanks and began to make a few notes. When the presentation was done, I closed the laptop and we took a break. Kevin had been looking at his notes but saying nothing for the time being. When he did speak, he surprised me a bit. "As you know, I'm not a certified engineer. What I can provide is experience in layout and compressing things into tight places. I won't have all the answers, but looking at what you've got here, I think I can help. "I don't see any reason you can't make this work, John. The key will be to get the components isolated far enough away from each other that they don't interact. If it's going to be portable, it's going to get banged around. If it goes in the back of a pickup truck, vibration and general shaking will have to be taken into account in the design. Who knows what kind of handling it will get in the field." "I had given that issue some thought," I said, "but not in enough detail to know how to handle it." "Well, generally, you want to avoid rigid conduit and piping for anything other than short distances of a couple of inches. I have an acquaintance who is applying for a patent on a flexible fluid conduit that is made of woven stainless steel lined both sides with some type of neoprene-like substance. It's capable of very high pressure, is extremely durable, and still remains flexible in temperature extremes. The coupling he's designed is a modified, gimbaled sealed ball-and-socket design. The two together would permit tight, unusual angles and act like a shock absorber between fixed points here, here, and here," he said, pointing at the schematic. "Is the product commercially available?" I asked. "Not yet, but it will be by next year. In the meantime, I'm sure I can get enough material and couplings to use in your prototypes with his approval. He wants to see it in commercial applications and we could offer him some real-time testing." "That sounds like a doable situation," I said. "Why don't you contact him and see how he responds?" "I'll get on it in the morning," he promised. I was wondering how I should propose compensation for Kevin and I decided to talk to Thomas about it. He was, after all, experienced with new project capital investments and I suspect he had some ideas of what would be fair for both parties. I would defer discussion of the subject until I had talked to my future father. The more I thought about my project, the more I realized how naïve I was and worse, inexperienced in business. I had this "great idea" that I wanted to exploit, but I really didn't have a good plan to convert the concept into reality. I needed professional help, and I was sure Thomas was the most likely source of that help. *** "Well, it looks like you've got the cart before the horse on this one, John," Thomas said with a smile. "You've been so wrapped up in your development that you haven't paid much attention to the details of how you get it from drawing to commercial product. Coming to me is a good start because I can put you in touch with someone who knows exactly what's required. "As far as potential partners or investors go, I can give you some suggestions based on my own experience. In the matter of your visitor, the best thing to do is for us to sit down with Kevin and figure what his expectations are and see if we can make them fit what you want." "Thank you, Thomas," I sighed. "I guess I'm showing my age and inexperience. I'm so focused on getting the machine built, I'm not thinking about all the steps from start to finish. I welcome any help you can give me." "I'm glad you feel that way, John. I do have a proposal that I would like to discuss with you. Nan and Georgette should be with us as well and I'd like to do this before you talk to Kevin about compensation." "Sure, I'm fine with that," I said, wondering what he was thinking. "How about we call a family meeting at three this afternoon? I'm sure Kevin will understand he wouldn't participate in that." "Okay," I agreed. "How much time will we need?" "An hour or so should be enough, then we can talk to Kevin." At three that Saturday afternoon, Georgette, Nan, Thomas and I met in Thomas's home for our "family meeting." "I've been giving this a lot of thought," Thomas began, "and I want to put a proposal forward to you, John, which involves the development of your machine. I don't know if you've thought about how much money it will take to produce a prototype and put it through the necessary testing. Even without any failures or redesign problems, I can't see it being any less than $250,000. Most likely it will be more. Are you prepared for those kinds of costs?" I must have gone white with shock and was completely unable to answer the question. I turned to Georgette and she had a look of concern on her face. I finally found my voice. "No ... no, I wasn't," I said in what must have sounded like a strangled voice. "I didn't think so. It might not be a bad as I'm painting it, but you have to be prepared that it could be ... and even worse if there's a serious problem or flaw. I have enough experience in this type of venture that I can safely predict there will be more money required than you thought there would be, no matter how much contingency you planned for. That's the reason for this meeting." I nodded, unable to add anything. "The Smithton Investment Syndicate is prepared to financially support this project," he smiled. "We've discussed it and feel that the project has merit, it has great potential, and that it deserves support. Among ourselves, we have agreed to bankroll the initial development with you. Your partners would be Nanette, myself, and of course, Georgette, as well as one other party." Georgie Girl Ch. 10-12 "Who's the other party?" I asked. "Your parents," he grinned. "They have a great deal of faith in you, John, and now that they are financially set they want to invest in the future of their children." I was still reeling from what had been talked about in the past few minutes. I hadn't been prepared for this at all. True, I was hoping Thomas could point me to investors who would be willing to support my development, but trusting his experience, I may have seriously underestimated the cost of the project. Now ... I was being rescued by my parents and my futures. I must have looked like one stunned bunny at that moment. "Don't get all upset, Johnny," Nan spoke up. "This is your family speaking to you. Your true family and your adopted family. I know you don't understand the resources we have at hand, but you'll have to trust us that you will not have to worry about money for a very long time ... if ever. That's probably hard for you to grasp, but it's true." "You have to concentrate on finishing school, John," Georgette said softly. "Remember, that was your first priority ... both for the project and for us. Don't lose sight of your goals, love." I nodded, still finding it difficult to say what I needed to say. "I'm having a hard time accepting all this. It's more than I ever expected. I mean, Georgette, living here ... all the things you have done for me. I'm embarrassed at how you've treated me, a stranger only a few months ago." "Well, Johnny, you're no stranger now," Nan cackled. "You've brought some new life into this family. Important new life ... like maybe grandchildren and great-grandchildren? That's not a small thing." Thomas was smiling and nodding agreement, while Georgette seemed slightly uncomfortable. I could only think of one thing to say at that point. "Thank you." I paused for a moment. "Just out of curiosity, how much has each partner committed to the project?" "One hundred thousand," Thomas said immediately. "That's a half-million dollars," I said, my voice cracking with strain. "It's a good start," Georgette's father smiled. "New topic," Thomas said as he handed me a sheet of paper. It was a printed employment contract form that we could use if I felt Kevin Riordan was a valuable addition to our group. "I'm not sure what Kevin would expect for this project," Thomas said, "but we won't know until we discuss it with him. I am assuming that you find his addition worthwhile?" I nodded affirmatively. "Yes. I think he has the skills. It's a matter of whether I ... we ... can afford him." "Let's talk to him and find out if his expectations are realistic," Thomas suggested. *** "Money isn't my motivator right now," Kevin said as we discussed his employment. "I want something that I think is worthwhile and that I can contribute to its development. I like the concept of the decontamination system and I like the idea of it being easily portable. I don't have anything to keep me in Greenville, so if I could find a place to live, I'd be willing to move out here. I think a thousand a week would be plenty for me. We can make the life of the contract eight weeks to start with, then renewable every month or so, depending on how far along we are." "Don't worry about a place to live, Kevin," Nan spoke up. I've got two unused bedrooms next door and I'm not a terrible cook." "Well, that would be handy, all right," the man mused. "You think we could get along?" he grinned. "I expect we can," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "Well then, if the offer is open, I'll accept with thanks. I'm living in a furnished apartment, so all I have to move is my clothes, car, and books. Shouldn't take more than a week or so." "I've got a space in my garage where the Buick used to sit," Nan said. "You can use that for your Studebaker." I could see Kevin brighten at that offer. "That'll be great. I can work on it when I'm not working on the project. It's almost ready for the paint shop." "Sounds like we have a deal, then," I said, extending my hand to Kevin. He shook it with a firm hand and replied, "We do indeed." Later, after an enjoyable day which included Kevin, I was alone with Georgette and Nan in the living room. "Are you sure you'll be all right with Kevin in your place?" I asked her. "Have you seen the way that man dresses and handles himself?" Nan said seriously. "It's like he's still in the military. He's polite, good manners, and needs to be around people, not by himself. I think living here is going to be good for him." I shrugged and looked at Georgette. "We'll be right here if you need us," Georgette said. "Don't you worry about me. I'll be fine. Kevin and I are going to get along just dandy," she said with authority. Kevin returned on Saturday, the day before Halloween. He was driving a large, green Ford pickup truck and towing a flatbed trailer with a fabric covered car fastened to it. He carefully and skillfully backed the trailer into Nan's garage, leveled and unhitched it, then unloaded several tool boxes from a lock-box on the pickup. When finished, he locked the garage and drove the truck around to park on the street in front of the house. We greeted him on the front porch and I helped him with his bags and boxes, leading him into Nan's house and up the stairs to his room. Nan was right, he was organized, not just in appearance, but in how his things were packed and placed in the boxes and luggage. I had a feeling that this feature of his would carry over into the design and construction of the prototype. The more I saw of Kevin Riordan, the more confidence I had that we had chosen well. I had called Rex Lyman to let him know that we had hired Kevin and that he had already contributed to the construction of the prototype. In one of his boxes, he brought along samples of the flexible conduit and coupling that he was suggesting for our model. I was impressed with the samples and said so. "This looks really strong and well engineered, Kevin." "It is. That's the way Charlie thinks. Better to overbuild than find out later that it isn't tough enough for the job. This may be more than we need for your machine, but we can modify it once we have the field testing done." "Charlie" was Charles Prendergast, the developer of the conduit and couplings, destined for usage in military aircraft and vehicles. It certainly looked, on the surface of it, to be plenty strong enough for our application. I sure hoped so. "Where is Charlie located?" I asked. "Pueblo, Colorado. He was laid off same time as me. Went home to Colorado with his wife. Says he couldn't keep her and stay in South Carolina, so home they went. He's happy there because she's happy there," he grinned. "We both had a lot of years in the air force and at Lockheed, so we have good pensions and plenty of opportunities to work if we want to. We can afford to be choosy. He's likin' what he's doin', so he's happy how it's all turning out. Me too, for that matter." "I'm glad to hear that, Kevin. I have a feeling you're going to be a valuable resource for us." "I hope so, John. I hope so." While I went to school, Kevin began setting up the other half of Nan's garage by building a couple of sturdy work benches. One was about waist high and eight feet long, two feet wide. The other was almost the size of his pickup truck bed, but about thirty inches tall. He had covered the plywood top with tempered hardboard and then epoxy coated it for further protection. He set up some lamps to give him plenty of light where he was working. His tools were all neatly arranged along the wall on pegboard or on shelves he had built. The entire effort took less than three days to complete, and one more to stock with his tools and supplies. Once again, we could see his inherent organizational skills come through. "I'm going to look for a place to store the car, John. I need more space in the garage for the prototype frame. Then we'll do some plotting on how things are going to fit. When we get further along, we'll need to rent a proper shop to do assembly and testing. Right now, the garage will serve to work on the prototype, but not much more." "Okay. How do you want to do this?" "By keeping it the garage, we won't have to worry about information leaking out. I'm going to build a frame from store-bought aluminum extrusions from the 80/20 Company and then we'll see how the components fit as we go along. We probably won't get it right the first time, but we'll figure out how to adapt as we progress. There is only your guide to follow for this, so we'll just have to use common sense and try and keep it as simple as possible." "That makes sense to me. What can I do to help?" "Make a drawing or even a list of the order that the process has to take, step by step. Then, detail the size of each component and we'll see if we can make it fit into the frame. Also, we need a 220 volt line for power. I'm sure we're going to need that for the heater elements." "All right," I said. "I have some of that information now, but I'll get started on the list in sequence from intake to output." "Good. I'll start getting some frame materials right away. Looks like we've got a project," he grinned. "Looks like," I agreed. To Be Continued.