Air Force Sweetheart -- TacPzlSolGp Chap. 14/34

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Air Force Sweetheart
TacPzlSolGp
Chapter 14/34

by T. D. Aldoennetti

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“Whoa, Mom. She can’t have kids before I do,” Sis complains.

“Why can’t I? Just because you were born first?”

“Because you can’t.”

“Can too.”

We get into a good-natured argument, with Mom playing the part of the referee.


Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf by T D Aldoennetti on Wed, 2008/11/05 - 6:40am, Air Force Sweetheart -- TacPzlSolGp Chapter 14 is revised and reposted on Wed, 2009/12/16 - 01:09 PM ~Sephrena


Please, Mr. Custer, I don’t want to go. Forward Ho:

Chapter 14

 

We finish the shopping and, after going back to Mom’s and putting her share of the food away, Janet takes her purchases home, promising to return later this afternoon to help me pack and to say goodbye. Mom and I go to Macy’s and pick up my next two gowns and accessories. After they are in the car we go back to see if the rest of the cosmetics have arrived. A little perseverance finally yields the balance of my order, so I pay off the difference. We walk back out to the car and place them carefully, so as not to wrinkle the gowns.

Next stop is the travel agency, where I make my reservations and tell them about the excess weight which needs to go along. The ticket is about $125 but the excess weight and size is nearly $200. I pay the total charges, $350.71, and receive my voucher for the first class ticket, to be picked up at the commuter counter tomorrow morning in Cheyenne. I’m to leave at 10:20 and there is one change of aircraft on the way. I will arrive in Dallas about 2:50 in the afternoon.

The agent copies my orders and tells me that each trunk must have a copy inside and at least one on the outside. I ask if he could make me about twenty copies if I pay for them. He makes the copies and charges me fifty cents. Mom and I go home and I begin to pack. Everything fits in the six cases except for the clothes I’m taking to use everyday. Those go into my two large suitcases and I also have my cosmetics case.

Sis arrives again to help me with my packing. Mostly finished we carry everything down to the station wagon except the cosmetics case, one suitcase, one uniform and the clothes on my back. We talk for a while, saying more with our expressions than we do with words, and then just look at each other for a minute or two before we all burst into tears and hugs. Janet has to go home to prepare supper for Tony, so Mom and I separate for a while to compose ourselves.

Eventually, I go downstairs to find Mom sitting in the living room just staring. I flow onto the couch next to her and she leans over against me. “It’s so quiet in the house. I hadn’t realized how quiet it is when no one is here. Happy used to follow me everywhere or if he was out I knew he would be coming back and would get underfoot. He would need someone to take care of him. Your father was like that. Strong and self-sufficient, but he always needed someone to take care of him.

Janet moved out and it became so quiet except for Happy. You were off at OCS then, but I knew Janet was close and Happy was around and you would be coming back.

Now I just have Janet and you, if you survive your assignment. Things are so different now, Lucy.”

I don’t think Mom could have said all that to me if I was still male. As Lucy, she has someone to talk to, other than Janet I mean, and we all talked to Happy as if he could understand us. Sometimes I think he could understand us, at least on an emotional level, and just chose to pretend that he couldn’t. I’m still holding Mom as her head leans against my shoulder, her hand is on the dress on my leg and I hear her breathing slow, becoming shallower and more regular as we both wind down from the upheavals and excitement of this past week. We sit there for about an hour with her asleep against me. It’s been an emotional week.

I think about Happy and about Mom. Janet has her own life. She tries to check on Mom all the time but she has a lot to do herself. Some of Mom’s loneliness will fade when Janet has children. Mom will throw herself into caring for her grandchildren, helping to raise the boys to be gentlemen, and teaching the girls to be ladies and tutoring them in the unspoken language of the sisterhood of women.

I hope I am fortunate enough to have children as well. I think Mom will like that.

Mom has donated eggs for me and Janet has promised more so that I might have a share in the continuation of our family too.

Later Mom wakes up and starts supper, I find Tony’s number in the phone book and call. Janet answers the phone and almost immediately after I say, “Hi,” she wants to know what’s wrong. I tell her about what Mom was saying and discover again that Mom was right. The unspoken language can also be used across the phone lines, just a little differently.

I tell Janet that I’m leaving seventy dollars hidden under the night stand drawer in her old bedroom. I ask her to use it to buy two Golden Retriever puppies to give to Mom.

I hear her smile over the phone as she agrees. “If it isn’t enough, we’ll pay the rest,” she says.

I give her my love and say, “I’ll be looking for your first child when I get back a year from now.”

“Don’t rush me. We’re trying to save enough for our own home instead of a rental before we have any children. I took a week’s vacation from work to be with you and Mom this last week so I need to go back to work Monday.”

“Maybe you could get the puppies while Mom takes me to the airport? You have a key so you could get in to get the money while she’s gone.”

“Good idea. We’ll go out tonight after supper and see if we can find any. If they look good, we’ll make a deposit and pick them up in the morning. We could pick them up and leave them in the wash room by the back door. It has a linoleum floor and a baby gate to keep them from wandering into the rest of the house. Call me in a few days and I’ll let you know how it turns out.”

“Thanks, Sis…, and Sis….”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for taking care of your little sister all these years. It just took her a long time to figure out who she is and what really matters.”

I can hear her answer and all the little things implied in it as she says, “You’re welcome, Sis.”

We both hang up and I go out to see how Mom is doing. She’s cooking up a storm. You’d think she is about to feed a platoon.

“Mommm.”

“Yes, baby?”

“What’s with all the food?”

She looks at me as if I’m crazy. ’This isn’t much,’ her look implies.

I flash back, ‘It’s more than you and I could eat in a week.’

She pauses and looks at everything then sits and begins to cry again. I shut down the burners and drop the temp on the oven then go over and comfort her again.

I’m glad she’ll have those puppies. This is quite a change, all week she has been mothering me and now I’m mothering her. I pull a clean wash rag from under the sink and wet it down with cold water beginning to wipe her face free of tears and allow the cool feel of it to calm her again. A few minutes later, she’s regained her composure smiling at me.

“You know, Mom. Once I start a family, you’re on the hook to be babysitter and summer Mom. Even if we’re overseas, I’m going to at least send the girls to you for each summer. You may as well get used to the idea now.”

She laughs and smiles. Now her mind is projecting into the future and all the things she may be able to teach to her granddaughters.

“There’s just one thing, Mom.”

She looks at me with ‘What would that be?’

“Promise me you’ll start teaching them how to walk and act and use our hidden language while they are still young. This learning everything in less than a week is for the birds.”

She starts laughing. More than I’ve seen her in the whole time I’ve been home.

She pats my cheek and tries to answer breaking out in laughter again. She can’t even answer me with her face because it’s busy laughing. A minute or two goes by with her just beginning to calm down then she sees me flash, ‘So what’s your answer’ and she is off laughing again.

Finally she is able to answer between chuckles, “I… promise…, baby.”

“Wow. That’s a relief. I don’t know if I could handle another crash course even if I’m helping to give it.”

She’s off and laughing again. We have a great evening and put some of the excess food into the refrigerator. I finally remember about the movie rentals so we take them back before we forget them again. There was a small late charge which I paid since I’m the one who used the movies.

On our way home I tell Mom I feel like partaking of something sinful. We detour to a new place, Farrell’s, my treat. Mom orders a Chocolate Fudge Surprise and I go for the banana split, which is big enough for two. I don’t care, it doesn’t happen that often. Happily indulged we continue home.

I prepare my uniform for the morning, take a shower and put on some clean under wear, my uniform blouse and skirt then take my dirty clothes down to wash them.

As they are going Mom and I sit and talk or watch TV for a while. I move my things to the dryer and return to be with Mom. Later I remove my clothes from the dryer and go up to pack them after allowing them to cool. I then return downstairs to continue the much needed talk with Mom.

“Mom?” I don’t look at her and don’t quite know how to proceed.

“What’s wrong, Lucy? Come on, I can tell something’s bothering you.”

“I don’t quite know how to ask, Mom. It… It’s kind of personal for me.”

“Lucy Ann, spit it out before I die of curiosity.”

“Aw, Mommm. I…. Aw, nuts. Could you tell me… I mean….”

“Lucy! What? OH…! Does this have something to do with becoming female?”

“Sort of, Mom.”

“You want to know more about sex, right?”

“I…. Mom, I don’t know how to ask. I’m going to have an operation or two and this will make me able to have sex as a girl. Then almost instantly I’m going to be married and I’m expected to have sex with my husband even if it is only for the assignment. I… I… Don’t know how… I mean, I know how but I never did it. I don’t know what to expect. What if he’s done it before and I don’t know anything? What will he think? Then we’re supposedly married for a while, so I should know more…. I mean…. Aw, nuts. Mom, how do I gain enough experience so I know what to do as a girl so I won’t make a total fool of myself?”

“Baby, come over here beside me. You’ve had the birds and the bees lectures from me both as a boy and as a girl. You know what the physical parts are and how they are used. I think what you are asking is how you would know if you are being abused by him sexually, right?”

“Pretty much. I mean, I have to do it or we could both get blown. But how do I know if he is being too rough or doing something sinful and not just having sex with me? How do I know when to tell him to stop or slow down or something?”

Mom puts her arms around me. “Baby, if it hurts a lot, it isn’t right. If he wants you to do things you don’t want to do, tell him so. A husband should want to make his wife feel as good as he does. That usually means he must go slower so you can build to your climax. Usually a combination of speeds and depth of penetration which you both change as you go will allow you both to build up to the most fascinating and wonderful sensation either of you could experience.”

“But what if he’s a pervert or something. What if he likes to do something that hurts me and I don’t like it but he won’t stop? Can a man go too deep or too fast and hurt a woman?”

Mom gives a sigh, “Yes, Lucy, sometimes they can. And sometimes going very deep causes other very nice sensations in a woman. Again, he shouldn’t want to hurt you intentionally. The husband should want you to like having sex with him. If he is hurting you intentionally, tell someone. He should not be allowed to continue doing that. If it hurts but only for a moment then you are probably all right. But if it hurts a lot and continues to hurt afterward that isn’t right. Tell someone.”

“Okay, I think I understand, Mom. I’m just a little frightened. This is happening so fast and I haven’t had a chance to grow up as a girl so I don’t know how my body is going to feel and what might make me feel good. I guess your daughter’s a wuss.”

“Don’t even think that. You are a perfectly delightful young woman and you are much more courageous than you think. It takes a lot of courage to give up one sex in order to become another especially since you are also giving up the ability to help make a child.”

“But I will have children, Mom. From your eggs and from my husband.”

“True. But they won’t be born from your womb. You won’t be able to experience the pain and the joy of giving birth to a baby. That act, the fact the baby grows in your uterus and becomes a living and breathing human being to nurse at your breasts and grow before your eyes is so special. If somehow you are able to nurse your babies after they are born, you should try to do it. It will help you to feel that binding relationship of mother to child. It’s very special and something that men never feel.”

“But I’m a man, Mom.”

“Not anymore. And especially not after your surgery. You won’t quite be a complete woman but you will be more woman than man. Even now you are as much a woman in your feelings as is Janet or myself. You cry at the same things, you laugh at the same things, you communicate with a woman’s finesse and you expect to be treated as the woman you are. Look at all the effort you have placed into becoming as much a woman as you might during this past week. When you were little and sometimes dressed as a girl then going out with Janet as her sister, you were learning. You were creating within you a female side and you discovered that women and girls are not always treated nicely by men or boys. You would become angry if a boy treated a girl badly. I remember a fight you got into with that bully who kept hitting your sister. One day you saw him hit another girl and it all came to a head.”

I smiled. “And I won too. He stopped picking on girls after I told him I would beat him up whenever he did it.”

“Yes, and your father and I had to explain to the school officials why you did it. Of course the girls who had been receiving the abuse from him told Janet what you had done and thanked her for your help. We never told you that because we didn’t want to start beating up every boy who pulled the hair of a girl. You can’t stop them all, especially since the police and judges are men and see nothing wrong in it. That fortunately is beginning to change.”

“The girls knew I did it?”

“It was hardly a secret. Nearly every girl in the school knew what you did less than a day after it happened. I even had phone calls from the mothers saying thank you. Of course I also had a call from the boy’s parents but by then I had twenty from thankful mothers to the one from them and told them so. They wanted to have you sent to reform school but I said I would have the mothers of all the girls come in and swear out complaints against their son so they dropped all thought of any action. Anyway, Lucy, as a boy you were honorable and fairly nice. As a girl you are still honorable and fantastic. Janet and I are both happy with the new you. Will you be able to visit for another week after your surgeries so I can see the new you before you go join your husband?”

“I don’t know, Mom. I’ll try. I think I would like that.”

“Thanks, baby. You’d better go get some sleep. You’ll have a long day tomorrow. I think I’ll turn in too.”

“Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Not just now, but all my life. I really will try to be the best daughter I can be…. After Janet, of course.”

“I’m certain she will be relieved to hear that.” Mom leans over and kisses me on my forehead, “Good night, Mom,” I say with my mouth but with my eyes I tell her, ‘I love you.’

She throws a look back at me, ‘I know. I love you too, baby.’

I go up to my room and take off my clothes laying them out for morning, put on my nightgown and go clean my teeth. I flow into bed and can’t help but wonder why Happy isn’t curled up asleep there. I know he’s gone but somehow he isn’t. I don’t know if this is a bad or good feeling, “Hi, Happy. If you can hear me fellow, you need to go. We’re all right now, you saved us. You’re a good dog. Go find children to play with, okay? There are a lot of them up there who need you to play with them. You won’t be alone. Go run and play now. You’re a good fellow. Bye, Happy.”

Sometime during the night I need to get up and go pee. While I’m sitting in the bathroom half asleep I can almost hear Happy barking his ‘throw the ball’ and ‘come pat me and scratch me’ barks. His ‘that ball is mine’ bark fading off into the distance and disappearing. I go back to bed.

Morning arrives and I awaken with the sun just beginning to reach into the room through my window. I pad quietly to the bathroom and then back to my room to brush my hair. After ten minutes I start to get dressed then do my makeup before putting on my uniform. I put a copy of my orders into the cosmetics case and the balance of the $10,000, now whittled down to just less than $1400, goes into my purse after I slip the seventy dollars into the night stand. I hope Janet found the puppies.

Checking the room I put everything I can find into the suitcase and cosmetics case locking them both. All of the trunks have locks on them and the suitcase that is in the station wagon is locked too. I carry the suitcase and cosmetics case down to the car then return for my jacket, cravat, purse, cap and briefcase.

I check my purse just to be certain my compact and lipstick are in it. No mascara, but the eyebrow pencil is here. I take everything down to the living room and go back out to the car to retrieve some mascara from my cosmetics case. That little problem taken care of, I check for my ID and count the cash so I know exactly how much I have on hand. I slip off my shoes leaving them with my other things in the living room and quietly pad upstairs to check on Mom.

As I reach the top of the stairs I hear her in the bathroom so I go back down and into the kitchen. Placing an apron over my uniform I begin to prepare breakfast and fill one side of the sink with hot soapy water. I fill the kettle with fresh water and start it on its way to a slow boil. After turning the oven on low and placing the cold plates in it, I go out and set two places for us then return to begin breakfast. Eggs, of course, medium slices of ham again. On small cold plates I place a lettuce leaf with just a couple of tablespoons of cottage cheese and two peach halves.

The stones go into the garbage and I rinse my hands again after dropping the frying pan into the water along with the small mixing bowl and assorted spoons and knives I used in the preparations. The kettle is just beginning to half-heartedly whistle as I shut off the oven so it won’t get too hot and I turn up the burner under the kettle to be almost instantly rewarded with a full blown gargling whistle. The water occasionally choking the whistle. I turn it down again.

I pull out the large teapot and fill it with hot water turning down the burner so the remaining water stays warm but doesn’t boil away. I carry the teapot into the dining room and return for the salads, traipse back again to pull a plate, cover it with a folded paper towel then place two tea bags on it and, using potholders, carry the warm plates and the tea bags to the dining room.

Mom is just arriving, “Good morning, Lucy. Something smells good.”

“Hi, Mom, thanks. Do you want toast?”

“Yes, please. Just one slice.” Then she sees that the eggs are sunny side up and adds, “Make that two slices.”

I start the toast and she comes out for just a little lemon juice. The juice is fairly fresh, we squeezed it a couple of days ago from lemons plucked from our tree in back. That’s where we got the peaches too. From the peach tree, not the lemon tree. The toast is up and I place it all on a plate to deliver to the table. I take off my apron, hanging it then go out to eat.

We sit, I ask Grace, then we each take a tea bag and after Mom pours hers, I pour mine.

“There’s enough hot water on the stove for another cup for each of us if you want it, Mom.”

“Thank you, Lucy, I just might.”

We begin eating, remaining fairly quiet during breakfast. I try to be careful since I am in my uniform and can’t afford to get anything on it. Taking our time, we enjoy our food until we’re finally just sitting there, drinking our second cups of tea. I begin to carry dirty dishes out to the sink where the water has turned from hot to warm.

I run the water a moment to bring in hot again, then swing the faucet over to the half full sink, adding water to raise the temperature and fluff up the soap bubbles. While the sink is filling, I grab the apron again, put it over my head, and tie the strings.

I go back out to check the table for more dirty dishes and ask if Mom would like anything else (no) I rinse off the plates and drop them into the soapy water. Taking the scrub sponge, I start in on the dishes, rinsing as I go, placing them into the drainer afterward. Less than ten minutes and I’m done. Now to clean up the range top and oven, then wipe down the sink and counter top. Pulling out a towel, I dry the silverware and sharp knives, putting them into the drawers and knife holders.

The dishes are dried next and put away, then I drain the kettle. Everything’s finished and neat again, except Mom’s tea cup, which she brings in just now. I add a drop of dishwashing liquid into the cup and clean it out well with hot water as I wash it, pouring just a little on the saucer so I can wash it too. I rinse the cup, then wash the saucer and spoon, then rinse and dry everything and put them away in the cupboard and drawer.

One more check of the dining room and the kitchen then I hang the apron and go out to find Mom. She’s sitting in the living room next to my things and watches as I enter the room.

“Thank you for breakfast, Lucy. It was good and I appreciate not needing to wash.”

“You’re welcome, Mom. I still like to cook.”

“I remember, even as a little girl you couldn’t be chased from the kitchen. I appreciated it then too.”

As it nears 8:30, we can’t procrastinate any longer. I put on my jacket and hat and pick up my purse, putting the strap over my left shoulder then grab my briefcase also on my left. The right needs to be free just in case I need to salute someone.

We go out to the car and are on our way. I hope Janet and Tony come by to get the money and find the dogs. Mom and I easily reach the airport by 9:00.

We attract the attention of the only porter and he brings a cart for my trunks and cases. If I were flying military then I just make my weight limit with twenty pounds to spare and my nine piece limit on the nose. We go into the ticket counter and I show my voucher, receiving a claim ticket in return, as they weigh in my cases and place them on a luggage cart behind the counter. I tip the porter five dollars for helping me twice with all that weight, which brings a smile to his face. He seems quite happy with the tip and I am quite happy I didn’t need to move them so, even though five dollars was a lot of money, we came out even.

The aircraft won’t arrive for forty minutes and then we have nearly twenty before it departs. I go to Denver from here then change planes and go on to Dallas. It will be a bit tricky from there. I have a lot of cases and they won’t fit into a taxi. In the hopes of heading off that problem, I check the orders for the phone number then beg five dollar’s worth of change from the counter. Mom and I go to one of the pay phones and I begin my attempt to reach someone who cares.

After fifteen minutes I begin to worry about the change and give Mom another five for more change. She goes off as I continue to wade my way through the red tape. Finally I reach someone who is able to assign me a car. I explain the problem and they say they will send a station wagon to pick me up at the Dallas Airport. I give them my arrival time, flight number, name and rank, thanking them before we hang up.

A moment later the phone rings and I answer. The operator tells me it will be another $4.75. I start pouring quarters into the phone and have nearly run out when Mom arrives with more change. I continue to pour quarters until the operator is happy then thank her and hang up. I thank Mom for getting more change and take eight quarters telling her to keep the rest. We go outside and pace along the walk, while we wait for the aircraft to arrive. I see the luggage truck drive over to the berthing spot and notice my trunks and luggage on it along with half a dozen other pieces. Looks as though it will be a light flight. I’m certain the flight out of Denver will have many more people on it. I place a silent prayer that everything will make the change and travel with me to Dallas intact.

As we pace, a young man in enlisted Navy uniform comes out and starts to pace also. We salute and continue on then turn and wind up saluting again.

“Excuse me.”

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“I give you permission not to salute me as we walk around here. Are you waiting for the plane to Denver?”

“Yes, Ma’am, and then on to San Diego.”

Checking my watch, “I suppose we have about ten minutes to wait for it to arrive.

Tell you what, why don’t we pretend were both civilians until we separate in Denver. That way we don’t need to salute each other over and over. All right with you?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” he sounds quite enthusiastic about it.

“All right then.”

We continue our pacing. Finally a fairly new turbo-prop comes into view, touching down and eventually coming to rest at the spot near the luggage truck.

After a minute, the passengers disembark, all five of them. Their luggage is unloaded and ours goes into the storage area under the airplane. Mom and I say our goodbyes, touching cheeks, but then send silent, ‘Love you’ and ‘Be careful’ messages to each other as I walk with the other passengers to the aircraft. I turn at the top of the stairs and wave, then go on in. There are eight of us so the aircraft is still about half empty.

My first class ticket and extra luggage are probably their only profit on this flight. I don’t know how a small airline can stay in business with gas as expensive as it is. It cost $4.90 to fill Mom’s station wagon and it was about a third full to start with.

She’s thinking about trying the ninety-one octane regular in it, to save money. Regular is almost eight cents a gallon less than high test. She said there are rumors gas is going to go up to about thirty-nine cents a gallon by the middle of next year. That’s outrageous.


1996_pcc.jpg To Be Continued….
 
 
 
© 2008, 2009 by T D Aldoennetti & Rénae Dúmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder) or her assigned representative. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. An Aldoennetti Original.

 
 

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Original comments to this story

Puddintane's picture

are you sure about those gas prices?

I was in high school here in Brooklyn during the early to mid 60's. I seem to remember gas being a lot cheaper then you make note of. In fact I seem to remember my brother and I paying somewhere in the area of .35 - .50 per gallon in '65.

Ok I went online and found this site http://www.centex.net/~elliott/1965.html

Cost of Living in 1965

Gallon of milk 1.05
Loaf of Bread .21
Gallon of Gas .24
New Auto 2,350.00
New Home 40,000.00
Average Income 5,942.00

Bright Blessings

Gas prices and VCRs vs VTRs

WOW!

I didn't expect my liberties with the timeline to cause such a furroar.

All right... I obtained my COMMERCIAL BROADCAST license at the age of ... a little before I was 18...
This was a FCC 1st Class Radiotelephone license which allowed me to operate,repair and modify broadcast radio and television equipment and transmitters which sent the information to the public for listening or viewing.

In 1965 I became the Chief engineer (head lady) of the engineering department of a local television station. We had four RCA Quadraplex 2 inch reel to reel tape machines and four AMPEX 660B machines which do electronic editing. A really nice feature which we used rather heavily. the tapes were not, unfortunately, interchangable as the 660Bs were helical not Quadraplex. The Ampex also had a much longer recording time. We used the 10.5 inch reels and as I recall we got around 3 hours out of a reel. nice for playing long movies with commercials attached into them, although we also had a "film chain" which was three 16mm projector and two 35mm slide projectors. We could simultaneously play two movies on this "island" with one going on the air and the other sllowing us to record exerpts or shorts into one of our programs. Thus we were able to produce programing at the same time as we were on the air.

AMPEX also came out with a daughter machine to the 660B which I think was the 1560 or 1500 or something close to that, anyway... We bought one of those to use "in the field", it looked like a very bulky suitcase/trunk. The machine was billed as a "home user machine" and a "home user COLOR camera" was also available... This is 1964/1965. NO NO CASSETTES. Not even the 1 inch cassettes which came out years before the 3/4 inch became available.

I played with the timeline "a smidge" to allow cassettes to come into being (since they are much easier with which to work) and have taken other "liberties" allowing for various gadgets and ideas to be available before they were reinvented for public use.

Gas prices at that time were in the 35 to 39 cent range for premium which was 97 or 98 octane, depending where you bought it. It was called "high test", the mid range fuel was 94 octane, and the regular was 91 octane... Our premium of today. Filling Mom's Buick (442 intercepter engine -- yipes) cost about $5 maybe $5.40 but I don't know how much fuel was still in the tank. Near empty. If Mom was a "lead foot" for any reason, such as being first off the line at a traffic signal and a block down the street before anyone else thought to move, you could actually see the gas gauge dropping slowly -- scary.

Oh well, enough trying to justify my liberties with the timeline... There are other issues I was trying to allow to be of interest in the story. It's great that the Internet has so much information available now. I want to interest people in thinking and the FICTION I wrote apparently does that.

By the way, here's a hard one, who made the first "home" computer? I'll give you a clue, it isn't any of the maufacturers of machines used since 1990. Not Radio Shack or Commodore either.

God Bless You

Teddi

If I remember correctly,

If I remember correctly, Atari had what they called "home computers" way back then (they went off into computer game machines and programs). The Atari "hooked" into your TV by use of a small switch box which you plugged to the TV via the anntena hookup and then a selector switch "A" & "B" was used.
Burroughs was making what they called the TC550 and TC850 models for business use and I guess some people who the capability to do so could use them for home use, as they were mainly "main frame" setup. Neither model had CRT screens tho, just like giant sized electric typewriters.
I recognise your FCC license, as I possessed one also and still do.
Seeing Ampex mentioned made me remember that I had an Aunt, who worked for that company until she retired from it. Her section made Video tape (she called it "film") for certain machines, but I don't know which ones. You could see literally huge piles of it laying outside the plant building that she said was being discarded and waiting to be removed. Her division plant was located in my home town of Redwood City, CA., where she also lived.
Oh yeah, Gas if I recall in very late 1965 and into 1966 was around 29 cents a gallon (at least around Travis AFB, CA where I was stationed at the time), I watched it go up one day to 30 cents and people were screaming like the sky was falling. J-Lynn

A minor fudge and realy of little importance.

If you moved her story up into the early 70s, just before the rapid pullout of troops from Nam, it would work.

In the last few decades at least and quite possibly back into the 60’s Japan’s aggressive and innovative manufactures lead by Sony, JVC, Pnasonic, Toshiba and others were known for having fancy electronics available for sale in Japan and parts of Asia years before the USA. This was inpart to test the market and because copyright and patent laws are so strict here.

I am greatly enjoying this story and bending history a bit is no biggie. Hell I write about mutants, magic users and honest politicians, now THAT is fantasy.

John in Wauwatosa

minor fudge... mmmm tasty

Actually,,, while over there in the mid to late 60's I and several others from my little organization picked up a lot of nice electronic commercial equipment (including two video tape recorders not VCR's) for very V E R Y low prices new. Got a great copy of the Ampex 660B ($27000) for only $12000. Yes a bit pricier than the home machines of the 90's but still a great machine at the time since we did some broadcast "moonlighting" later on.

Besides, if you can't bend history, what can you do??? I suppose I could make a world in it's entirety. Oh Wait... I'm already doing that in another story...

God Bless You

Teddi

Mothering-101

I can see where Lucy gets her instincts from. I just wanna know what happened to the father?
May Your Light Forever Shine

First Computer

Actually the first "personal" computer was the Altair 2000 with an operating system and basic compiler from a little startup company Microsoft.

It was so old, you had to input the bootstrap instruction by way of switches on the front! That was okay with me, I like blinky lights.

Beth

And here I was thinking this was a reference to the president's

computer...

Hugs,

Kristy

"First" Computer --- OUCH

You paint an excellent image... perhaps you take the win for fewest words...

Still laughing

Teddi

How Cold Is It

According to wikipedia the first Cold Stone Creamery was founded in 1988.

While I appreciate your license to do whatever you please, these incongruities don't help the readers suspend their disbelief.

Have you considered a willing editor?

Nonetheless, I'm enjoying your story if not just for the incredible detail.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Cold Stone Creamery

Sorry, I could have used another Ice Cream Parlour, but was so taken with my trip to CSC in 1991 that I "bit the bullet" and included the reference. Farralls (not spelled correctly) was another which I freqented but CSC captured my interest, not to mention there is one in the area which I was depicting even if about 25 years late. If I may move VCRs from the late 70s early 80s into the mid 60s then the CSC which I thorougly enjoy surely should be allowed to follow.

Teddi

-

Cheers,

Puddin'

A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style

A tender relationship between mother and daughter

Andrea Lena's picture

...“Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Not just now, but all my life. I really will try to be the best daughter I can be…. After Janet, of course.” She'll be a good daughter because she had always been a good child. Thanks again for this lovely story.

She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Possa Dio riccamente vi benedica, tutto il mio amore, Andrea

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Air Force Sweetheart-14

A bitter sweet and sad farewell and a bit of hope as well. Lucy might be a woman, but she is still a child in many ways.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Picky Comment

This is a small and picky comment and I know that. In the Navy, no one salutes without a cover/hat on and covers are not worn indoors. Therefore, the sailor would not have been expected to or even allowed to salute the major at every encounter. A second rule on saluting, is that they are saluted once at the first encounter of the day. This probably wouldn't apply to a CO or flag rank officer (general or admiral) but prevents unneeded hand motion throughout the normal course of a day

A second picky comment, although more jermain to the story: the title refers to an Air Force officer and yet the service is repeatedly referred to as Army ....

That applies ...

... in the Royal Navy too. I should think it has origins in the fact that crew members from both the upper and lower deck are confined to a relatively confined space when at sea which would make saluting somewhat inconvenient all round. I once got clobbered for not saluting the quarter deck when I was temporarily on a cruiser because it was never done on the frigate I was used to. A very, very long time ago - may be different now.

As you say, not an important criticism but interesting in a geeky way.

Robi

Way Behind

terrynaut's picture

I've been busy so I'm way behind on my reading. I had to read another chapter of this story though.

I continue to enjoy the slow, gentle pace and the background detail. Lucy is turning into a fine young lady.

*sigh*

- Terry