"It looks like that part is in order," Raines said. "All I need now is proof of your residency in the school district and transcripts from Piper's high school in Germany."
"I have the first thing," Mary Beth said. She pulled a receipt from her purse and gave it to the principal. "We're staying at the Chaparral Motel on Mission Street."
Mary Beth and Piper had visited the motel earlier in the day and rented a suite with two double beds, a kitchenette, and a small dining table. They rented the room at the weekly rate of fifty dollars and paid for four weeks. Mary Beth told the manager that they intended to stay at the motel at least a month and extend their visit, if necessary, on a week-by-week basis.
"What about her transcripts?" Raines asked.
"We were unable to obtain them before we left," Mary Beth said.
"I need records, Miss McIntire. I can't graduate a student without them."
"I understand."
"Do you have the name and address of Piper's last school?"
Mary Beth nodded. She reached again into her purse and pulled out a small slip. She handed the slip to the principal. It contained more fiction than Gone with the Wind.
"Roger Timmons is the principal there. He can send anything you need and answer any questions you might have about Piper's coursework, marks, and conduct."
"Overseas mail moves slowly," Raines said. "This could take weeks."
Ding! Ding! Ding! Piper thought. We have a winner!
The principal sighed.
"I must have the records by May 15."
"That's fair," Mary Beth said.
"Then I guess that settles it," Raines said. He gave the rent receipt back to Mary Beth. "Piper may enroll."
"Thank you."
Raines turned his attention to Piper.
"I assume you have some courses in mind."
"I do," Piper said.
"Then what would you like to take, young lady?"
Piper smiled politely at the principal. She decided if he called her "young lady" one more time she would brain him with a stapler.
"I'd like to take art history, literature, civics, algebra, gym, and maybe something old school like home economics," Piper said. "I could use a cooking lesson."
Mary Beth stifled a laugh.
"I think that can be arranged," Raines said. "Do you need any specific class to graduate?"
"No. I completed all of my necessary coursework in Germany. I just want to enjoy a spring in California and graduate with a diploma from Midway."
"Then I'll do what I can to make it happen."
"I appreciate that, Mr. Raines."
"Do you have any questions for me?"
Piper shook her head.
"I think I'm set."
"Then I will send you to Mr. Bowers," Raines said. "He is one of our guidance counselors. He is in his office right now and can help you work out a schedule."
"Thank you," Piper said.
The principal leaned back in his chair. He studied his visitors for a moment, put a hand to his chin, and finally leaned forward.
"I do have a question for you," Raines said.
"Oh?" Piper asked.
The administrator nodded.
"I detect a southern accent. Both of you have southern accents. Surely you did not pick those up in West Germany."
"We didn't," Mary Beth said. "We picked them up in Alabama. We're Army brats."
"I figured as much."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Oh, no," Raines said. "If anything, it's a good thing. I'm sure Piper will have no difficulty making new friends with such an interesting background."
Mary Beth and Piper exchanged knowing smiles.
"I agree, Mr. Raines," Mary Beth said.
The principal leaned back in his chair.
"Well, I guess that concludes our business," Raines said. He smiled and looked at Piper. "Welcome to Midway High School, Miss McIntire. Welcome to the Class of '59."
CHAPTER 16: MARK
Los Angeles, California – Wednesday, March 25, 1959
Four days after taking Mary Beth McIntire for a stroll along the Las Vegas Strip, Mark Ryan took her for a stroll along the university's most prominent thoroughfare. He conceded that the Parkway did not match the Strip's glitz, but it was familiar, inviting, and active. It was a perfect place for a walk with a woman who continued to amaze.
"Do you like what you see?" Mark asked.
"I do," Mary Beth said. "This campus is amazing."
Mark couldn't disagree. Even after four years, he never tired of the sights. He admired the broad walkways and the carefully groomed vegetation almost as much as the stately buildings that showed off the Romanesque Revival and Italian Renaissance styles.
"Is that all you like?"
"No," Mary Beth said. She offered a playful grin. "I also like the fashions. I didn't see this in Tuscaloosa. I haven't seen this anywhere."
Mark laughed.
"Well, you are in California – and in a different time."
Mary Beth smiled.
"I guess I am."
Mark leaned forward to get a closer look at the woman on his arm. He looked for clues that might explain her smile but found only lively eyes and the traces of another grin.
"You have something on your mind, don't you?"
"It's nothing major," Mary Beth said. "I'm just trying to make sense of all this."
"Do you mean 1959?"
"Yes, I mean 1959 – and Los Angeles and the past few days and you."
"Am I a mystery, Miss McIntire?"
Mary Beth smiled again.
"That's putting it mildly."
"Then let's unwrap the mystery," Mark said. He guided Mary Beth around a group of students who had gathered near a large bronze statue. "What do you want to know?"
"I don't know," Mary Beth said. "I guess everything. Tell me about your interests, your childhood, and your parents. Tell me why a college senior drives an Edsel bearing the bumper sticker of a high school team."
Mark laughed.
"You don't miss a thing."
"I don't miss things like that," Mary Beth said. "Did you attend Midway?"
"I didn't. I went to South," Mark said. "Ben would have too had the school district not changed its boundaries the year I graduated. My dad put the bumper sticker on the Edsel to show his support for Midway's sports teams. Ben played football at MHS and now plays tennis. He's kind of a big deal there."
"I gathered that when Piper and I visited the school. Ben and some girl named Vicki Cole are running for prom king and queen."
"Did you cast a vote?"
"No. Piper did though," Mary Beth said. She giggled. "She put fifteen dollars on some couple named Chip and Bunny."
Mark laughed.
"Don't tell Ben that. He'll go crazy. He'll consider the donation sabotage."
"I take it he wants to win."
"He wants to win everything. He's very competitive."
"Is he dating Vicki Cole?" Mary Beth asked.
Mark shook his head.
"They used to go out. They dated off and on until about a month ago. Then Ben dumped her for some girl named Brenda. I'm not sure what happened to her. Ben sees someone different every month."
"He sounds like a ladies' man."
"He is."
Mary Beth gave Mark a playful smile.
"Is his brother a ladies' man?"
Mark chuckled.
"No. I date every now and then and still go to fraternity dances, but I don't go out very often and haven't dated anyone seriously for more than a year."
"That surprises me," Mary Beth said. "I see a lot of pretty faces on this campus."
Mark looked at her thoughtfully.
"Don't get me wrong. I've had ample opportunity. I've just decided to focus on academics this year. I promised my father I would graduate with honors and get a good job out of college. I want to fulfill that promise even if he's no longer here."
"Do you think about him a lot?" Mary Beth
asked.
"I think about him every day. That's why I kept his Edsel instead of trading it in and getting another car with the insurance money. I wanted to keep a reminder of him."
"That's sweet."
Mark shrugged.
"It is what it is."
"Tell me about your mother," Mary Beth said. "What kind of woman is she?"
Mark smiled.
"She's like most mothers. She fusses over her kids and volunteers for everything."
"Have you told her about your discovery?"
"Oh, no. She would drive back today if I did."
Mary Beth stopped and looked at Mark.
"So are you going to tell her?"
"I haven't decided," Mark said. "I'm tempted to keep it to myself. If I tell my mom, she might tell someone else and, before you know it, everyone in town will be knocking on our door."
"Are you going to tell her about Piper and me?" Mary Beth asked.
Mark sighed.
"I haven't decided that either."
"Oh."
Mark regretted his answer the second he saw Mary Beth frown. He began to wonder whether honesty was even an option in building a friendship that would someday have to end.
"Do you want me to tell her about you?"
Mary Beth looked at him closely.
"Yes."
"Do you want to meet her?" Mark asked.
Mary Beth nodded.
"Yes again."
Mark smiled.
"I'll see what I can do."
CHAPTER 17: PIPER
South Pasadena, California
Piper smiled as she watched the frumpy literature teacher walk to the front of the class. With horn-rimmed glasses, a potato-sack dress, and therapeutic shoes, Evelyn Everson was as much a sign of the times as slide rules, pull-down maps, and Pee-Chee portfolios.
The time traveler braced herself for an introduction. She knew one was coming because she knew how teachers welcomed new pupils to Midway High School. They did it by making a public spectacle of the student. They had already done it to Piper five times.
"Good afternoon, class," Mrs. Everson said.
Twenty-two students sat straight in their seats.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Everson."
"I have graded your quarterly exams and will distribute them at the end of the hour. Most of you, I am pleased to report, did quite well. I hope you keep up the good work this quarter. We will begin our final unit in a moment. In the meantime, I would like to introduce a new student," Mrs. Everson said. She looked at a girl in the back row. "Can you step forward, Piper?"
I certainly can. Whether I want to is another matter.
The teacher tilted her head.
"Come on up. Don't be shy."
Piper got up from her seat and stepped forward. When she reached the front of the room, she turned around, faced the class, and forced a smile only Leonardo da Vinci could love.
Mrs. Everson placed a hand on the newcomer's shoulder.
"I am pleased to introduce Piper McIntire to the class. Piper recently moved to Southern California from Wiesbaden, West Germany, where she has lived the past few years. She has enrolled as a senior and plans to graduate in June with the rest of you. Please welcome her to the school and to the community when you have the opportunity," Mrs. Everson said. She smiled at Piper and tapped her lightly on the shoulder. "You may sit down, dear."
Piper scanned the faces of her classmates as she returned to her desk and saw a variety of expressions. Several girls smiled, two yawned, and one glared. The attractive redhead looked at Piper like she was Typhoid Mary. Every boy in class salivated.
Piper had done her best to fit in. She had donned a white blouse, a pink poodle skirt, bobby socks, and saddle shoes, tied her long brown hair in a ponytail, and worn the reddest lipstick she could find. She had even carried her books by holding them to her chest.
Still she stood out. She had expected as much. There was no hiding her wholesome good looks, her unusual first name, and an accent that screamed Talladega.
Piper took her seat, folded her hands on top of her desk, and waited for the instructor to do something besides draw attention to the new girl. She didn't have to wait long.
Less than a minute after Piper sat down, retrieved her literature text, and opened it to a random page, Mrs. Everson got up from her chair, stepped away from her desk, and walked to a door Warren Raines had quietly opened. The teacher spoke to the principal, who had paid an unexpected visit, and then returned to the front of the classroom.
"I have to leave for a few minutes," she said. "Please pull out your readers and open them to page forty-four. We will begin the works of Keats when I return."
Piper flipped to page forty-four and then looked around the classroom. Most of her peers had moved on to the lesson, daydreams, or private conversations, but a few had not. Three boys continued to stare at the new student. Two smiled. One waved.
Piper started to read a poem by John Keats but stopped when she felt the weight of a stare. She looked to her right and saw a blonde in an oversized letterman sweater look back.
The girl rested her chin on folded hands and smiled.
"Are you really from Germany?"
"Yes," Piper said.
"You don't look like a German."
"Is that so?"
The blonde nodded.
"You don't speak like a German either."
"That's because I'm from Alabama."
The girl giggled.
"You're funny."
Piper smiled.
"What's your name?"
"Sally Warner."
Piper looked at her sweater.
"What did you letter in, Sally?"
"I didn't letter in anything. My boyfriend did."
Piper laughed to herself. This really was a different time.
"That's nice."
"Have you made any friends?" Sally asked.
"No. I haven't – unless you count Ben Ryan."
Sally's eyes grew wide.
"You're friends with Ben Ryan?"
Piper furrowed her brow.
"I guess you could say that. He drove me to school today."
Sally smiled.
"You're definitely a friend if he drove you to school. How did you meet?"
We spent the weekend time traveling.
"We met through our siblings," Piper said. "They know each other."
"Oh," Sally said. "Has Ben asked you out yet?"
Piper sighed.
"No."
"He will," Sally said. "He doesn't give rides to just anyone."
Piper laughed.
"I'll make a note of that."
"Has your family bought a house yet?" Sally asked.
Piper shook her head.
"My parents are still in Germany. I came here early so that I could graduate from a California high school. I live with my older sister at the Chaparral Motel."
"You live in a motel?" Sally asked.
Piper put a finger to her lips.
"Yes."
"Oh," Sally said.
"It's just temporary."
"Can you stay out late and do what you want?"
Piper carefully considered her reply. She did not want to given anyone the impression that she lived by her own rules in a motel. Boys would love that.
"No. My sister won't allow it."
"That's too bad," Sally said.
"I know."
"Does your sister look like you?"
"She does," Piper said. "Why do you ask?"
"I think I saw her yesterday. I saw someone who looks like you standing near the prom tables during the lunch hour. Did she wear a yellow dress?"
Piper nodded.
"She came to school to help me enroll."
"She sounds like a mother."
"She is a mother, at least for now. She's even strict like a mother. She's already set down a hundred rules I have to observe."
"That figures," Sally said. She frowned. "My parents are the s
ame way. They won't let me do anything. I think seniors should be able to break rules. We're practically adults."
"Do you like breaking rules?" Piper asked.
Sally blushed.
"Don't reply," Piper said. She laughed. "I have my answer."
"I just wish I didn't have a curfew. It's so unfair."
"I agree."
"What do you do for fun?" Sally asked.
I visit the fifties.
"I like to swim and dance and listen to music," Piper said. "How about you?"
Sally smiled.
"I like to sing and dance and listen to music."
"Then you're a well-rounded woman," Piper said.
"Maybe you can—"
Sally stopped speaking when Mrs. Everson opened the door and entered the room. She resumed speaking when the teacher walked to the blackboard, retrieved an eraser, and erased several questions and answers from an earlier class.
"Maybe you can come over to my house sometime."
"I'd like that," Piper said. "I'd like that a lot."
CHAPTER 18: BEN
Los Angeles, California – Thursday, March 26, 1959
Ben tapped the brake pedal of his Thunderbird, slowed to forty miles per hour, and cussed silently as traffic on the Pasadena Freeway began to thicken. He hated congestion almost as much as he hated smog, but neither on this sunny afternoon bothered him as much as the silent treatment he was getting from his lone passenger.
"Do you hate me?" Ben asked. "Be honest."
"I don't hate you," Piper said. "I'm just not sure I like you."
"What's the difference?"
"Well, for one thing, if I hated you, I wouldn't get near you. I wouldn't talk to you or speak well of you – and I certainly wouldn't ride in a car with you. Thanks for giving me a ride to school, by the way."
"You're welcome," Ben said.
"Not liking you is something altogether different. It means I haven't decided whether I like you or dislike you. See the difference?"
"No."
Piper smiled.
"This is killing you, isn't it?"
Ben glanced Piper and then returned his eyes to the road.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you do," Piper said. "I'm not fawning over you like a hundred other girls at Midway High School – and that's killing you."
Ben sighed.
Class of '59 (American Journey Book 4) Page 8
