DD Rides Again - chapter 6

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Chapter 6

By Penny Reed Cardon


This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.

It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.

Chapter 6

Saturday, July 15, 1972

We said farewell, then watched as most of our people headed for home aboard the rented G1. Then I took Bob, John, and what was left of our gang to Tony's for breakfast; finally we got some good French toast.

Next on the agenda, call Gregory De Forest.

"Good Morning Greg."

"DD, is that you?"

"Yes it is. I apologize for calling so earl. Bob and I were thinking of making a trip or two your way, to ferry the Cessna 206 and the Piper Navajo back here to Portland."

"That's fine, come by any time you'd like. Dave Watson has the keys. I'll let him know to expect you."

"Greg, as Bob and I were discussing the King Air, we wondered if moving it was the right thing to do, at this time. I guess the real question is, how much luggage or cargo do you want flown up to your island? Don't get me wrong; we're not trying to set a limit. We just want to make sure we have enough aircraft to do the job."

"Right now, I can't answer that question, my wife is still packing,” Gregg replied, with a little chuckle. “We did decide that we're leaving most of the furniture here; the house on the island is completely furnished, anything we take from here will be excess. Of course, there are all the little personal touches that make the apartment home."

"I know exactly what you mean, Greg. I'm guessing, from this conversation, you'll need more cargo space than what one King Air is rated for. So I'll keep the King Air, that we’ve rented, for a few more days."

"What about that Gulfstream of yours?"

"You know, we were thinking about that, but you weren't sure if the runway on your island was long enough. I can't tell you how mad I'd be at myself, if I flew her in and then couldn't take off."

"I do see your point, DD. I'm sure there will be more cargo than one King Air can handle. I don't know if we'll exceed two or not."

"I guess that's a close enough for a guess. If we need to make two trips, we will. Well, we'll see you a little later, Greg."

"I'm looking forward to it."

Turning to Bob, after I'd hung up with Greg, I said, "Being that we're keeping the King Air, we'll take it down to pick up the other two planes."

"It's too bad we don't have another pilot up here, then we'd only have to make one trip," Bob replied.

"Another pilot, I wonder if he's available." I mumbled, as I reached for the phone.

"Hello." came the usual response, as the phone was answered.

I recognized her voice and gave the customary reply, "Hello Grandma."

"Darla Anne, is that you?"

"Who else calls you Grandma?"

"Well, there's Judy, Mary, and Susan."

"You have a point there, but how many of them sound like me?"

"You are indeed one of a kind. So, is there something I can do for you?"

"Well, being that you're at the apartment, does that mean that Captain O'Toole is available?"

"All the planes that you have at your disposal and you want to use the jet?"

"Actually, I'm only interested in Captain O'Toole as a pilot, I don't want the jet. Bob and I want to bring the two smaller planes up from De Forest paper, so the mechanics can look them over next week. If we had another pilot we'd only have to make one trip, down and back. Of course you're welcome to come along for the ride."

"I think I'll pass on the plane ride, my dear, I get plenty of those. As far as Captain O'Toole’s services, I don't believe he's flying anyone today, although he may have some personal plans. I'll have him call you and you two can work things out."

"Thanks Grandma, love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

Less than fifteen minutes had passed before my phone started ringing.

"Hello."

"Hello, is Miss Darla Drake there?"

"This is Darla Drake. Captain O'Toole?"

"Yes ma'am. Is there something I can do for you?"

"There is, I'm in need of an extra pilot."

"An extra pilot?" he asked.

"Exactly. You see, we purchased a company yesterday, which has four small planes as part of their corporate assets. One is in Eugene being serviced and bringing its FAA inspections up to date. The other three are at the company headquarters, they're in a remote area, in central Oregon. I want to move the two smaller planes up to Portland so the Ameri-Moore mechanics can go over them."

"It takes two to fly the company jet."

"Oh, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. The airfield is grass, so taking the jet down is out of the question. We've rented a Beechcraft King Air that I’ve been using to hop around the Northwest all week. We were planning on taking the King Air down. I have Bob Warren with me, and we could make two trips. However, if you’re available, there'd be three pilots for the three planes, flying back, thereby needing to only make one trip."

"Now I understand. Unfortunately, my family and I have plans for today, we were just leaving when Mrs. Moore called."

"Oh, I'm sorry for intruding on your time with your family."

"Oh no, you're fine Miss Drake, I'm always happy to help. So you just need a pilot, for a few hours. I know some people who might be available. What would they be flying?"

"Either a Cessna 206 or the Piper Navajo, perhaps the King Air. We really haven't decided who would fly what on the return leg of the trip."

"They're all fun little airplanes. Let me make a few calls and I'll see what I can set up."

About 5 minutes later the phone rang, naturally I answered, "Hello."

"Miss Drake? This is Captain O'Toole."

"Yes, did you find me a pilot?"

"Well, I was wondering, what is the configuration of the King Air you're flying? That is how many seats are in the cabin?"

"There are 6 seats in the cabin and of course, 2 in the cockpit, why?"

"How many are going on your little trip?"

"Bob Warren, my sister Susan, and myself of course. Why?"

"Well, I've talked about you so frequently, at home, that my wife would like to meet you and your sister. Then there's this thing about me flying all over the world and my children have never been flying. So I was wondering -"

I knew what was coming and interrupted, with a giggle, "Say no more, captain. Your family is more than welcome to join us. How many children do you have?"

"Three, 2 boys and a girl," he replied. To his family, I heard him say, "We can all go." After which I heard the cheering of little voices in the background. "Miss Drake, where is the plane?"

"It's tied down in front of the Ameri-Moore hangar."

"Terrific, I think I can find that. What time do you want to leave?"

"About an hour from now, say 10 o'clock?"

"We'll be there, Miss Drake. Thanks again."

"My pleasure, captain. See you in an hour."

"Well, we have our third pilot, and what should be some very giggly passengers." I informed Bob and Susan.

"We should stop on the way and get some snacks for the kids," Susan suggested.

"Maybe some gum, to help their ears pop," I commented. "We'll be at the plant around lunch time and we can eat in the cafeteria. I wonder what's on the menu."

"I didn't know Capital O'Toole had children," Bob added.

“I guess everyone has a surprise or two that aren’t common knowledge,” I replied. Susan smiled and nodded.

We arrived at the planes with 10 minutes to spare. Moments later a sky blue, Chrysler, station wagon pulled up next to the Ameri-Moore hangar. Even without the captain's hat, that he normally wears, I recognized Captain O'Toole. I assumed the others in the car were his family. It didn't take long for 3 excited kids to herd their parents to where we were waiting.

"I want to thank you again, Miss Drake. I haven't seen the kids this excited since last Christmas," Captain O'Toole said.

"Now that's enough of that, Captain. We're happy to have your family along. Now then, who is everyone?"

"Oh yes, introductions, how thoughtless of me. Everyone, this is Miss Darla Anne Drake," the captain started, pointing to me. "Her sister, Miss Susan Drake, and Mr. Robert Warren. This is my wife, Margaret. This young man is Patrick Jr, he's 12. And, this is Walter, he's 9. And this little princess is Melissa, she's 6."

"6 and a half, daddy," Melissa corrected, looking up at her father.

Captain O'Toole smiled as he bent down to snatch his daughter around her waist. He lifted her easily and swung her around once before gently cradling her in his arms and kissing her nose. "My apologies Princess, she's 6 and a half."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Darla and you too Miss Susan," Margaret quietly greeted. "Patrick has told us so much about your travels over the years, it almost seems like you're part of the family. And the kids have thoroughly enjoyed the cakes and pies you've sent home with him."

While her mother was talking, Melissa was tugging on her daddy’s shoulder. "All right, Princess, what do you want?"

"Can we go for a ride in that airplane? It's pretty," Melissa exclaimed, while pointing at Piermont's G1.

Susan giggled, Bob smiled and shook his head, slightly, while I softly sighed.

"That is a pretty airplane," Margaret replied to her daughter, gently lifting her from her father's arms.

"I don't think so, Princess, I don't know who owns that . . . airplane. Wait a moment . . . it looks like. Umm, Miss Darla, isn't that the Gulfstream 1 you purchased last fall?"

"Yes, that's our G1," I replied.

"May I ask, why did you paint it like a flower garden?"

"That was Stan Roskelly's idea. He's our fleet manager," I answered.

"That's actually a blown up copy of the MoPaper, Flower Power notebook," Susan added.

"Of course, it is. I recognize it now," Margaret declared. "The kids love the colorful MoPaper notebooks and Melissa just loves the pads with all the colorful paper. Sometimes she goes through a pad a week, with all of her little art projects."

"So, can we go for a ride in the pretty airplane, Daddy?" Melissa asked, craning her head around to look at her father.

"I don't know, Princess. You'll have to ask Miss Darla, it's her airplane."

Turning to me, the excited 6 and a half year-old asked, "Miss Darla, can we go for a ride in your pretty airplane, please?"

"Well, I was planning on taking this little airplane," I replied.

"But, it's not as pretty," Melissa complained.

Smiling I reached out and gently tweaked her little nose, "Okay, because you asked so nicely, we'll take the pretty one. Just for the Princess."

"Yippee!!!" she squealed.

I rummaged around in my flight bag, as I walked over to Flower Power one, and pulled out the keys. Operating the release, the door with stairs swung down.

"All aboard," I called out.

Without any hesitation, the three kids climbed aboard. The first step was a bit of a stretch for Melissa, but with a little help from her mother she managed to get up and in.

As Susan passed by she said, "You sounded more like a railroad conductor than a stewardess."

"I wasn't trying to sound like a stewardess," I commented.

I followed Susan into the plane with Bob and Captain O'Toole following me. Once inside, I stepped aside and waited.

After Bob and Captain O'Toole were aboard I asked, "So who's going to fly the out bound leg?"

I must have caught both gentlemen off guard because neither of them said anything.

"Being that you had the keys, I assumed you'd be flying the G1, Bob finally admitted.

I looked at Captain O'Toole, "Captain, you never availed yourself of the opportunity to check her out in Brandon. Care to take her up?"

"I've never flown a G1 before," the Captain started to say.

Interrupting, I countered, "I'm sure Bob would be happy to ride in the right seat, on the way down. I'm pretty sure he's logged more hours in her than I have."

"If you're sure," the Captain replied, with a broad smile.

"I tell you what, Captain. Why don't you lift off, so you can get the feel of her, and then turn it over to Bob. Then you can sit with your wife and kids, for a while. When we're getting close, you go back up and set her down," I suggested. "We'll decide who is flying what, when we're ready to come home."

"That's a great idea, Miss Darla," the Captain agreed.

"Works for me," Bob concurred.

Smiling, I handed Captain O'Toole the keys, they went forward and I went aft, to sit next to Susan.

"You're not flying this trip?" Susan asked.

"Sure I am, just not right now. We haven't decided who will be flying which plane, coming back to Portland. Captain O'Toole will take off and land, to gain experience with the G1. Other than that, Bob will do most of the flying going down. That way Captain O'Toole can come back here and sit with his family."

"That's nice. Your idea?"

"Yep, and this way I'll have some time to think about what to tell Rick Landis this afternoon."

"Rick Landis, isn't he that crazy reporter that was hounding you for an interview a couple of years ago. Why would you want to talk with him?"

"Yes, that's him. Even though he was a pest, he hasn't printed anything that wasn't true. He exaggerated a bit, but he was always truthful. The way Bob and I figure it, Robert De Forest is going to be hopping mad about what we've just done. We also figured, that the only way to keep De Forest from retaliating, is to go public.

“We're going to give Rick all the information we have about Alliance's underhanded operation, without committing perjury, or saying anything that they can sue us for. We'll explain about the price war being forced upon us, what we're doing to stay alive as a company, and how we'll put an end to the price war, resuming our normal pricing just as soon as Alliance declares a stalemate."

"Stalemate? Don't you want to win the war, force them to admit defeat?"

"Susan, nobody wins a war. It doesn't matter if it is a price war, an economic war, a war between neighboring countries, or a world war, nobody wins, there are only losers. Some may lose less than others, but everyone loses something. I just hope that Robert De Forest doesn't drag it out too long, just because his pride is hurt."

"Are you going to tell Rick that you suspect Alliance of torching your headquarters?"

"No. We don't have any proof, and saying anything along those lines would open us up to a libel suit. I can tell Rick that the investigation team, have released their findings, they have declared the fire to be arson. Now the Vermont state police and the insurance company will try and determine just who set the fire. I can also pass on the names of the plant owners who were being pressured to sell, by and to Alliance. Several have agreed to talk with Rick and to tell him what the Alliance reps were saying about Piermont."

"That should make for some interesting reading, Darla."

"It should indeed. Especially knowing how much research Rick puts into his stories before they go to print."

About ten minutes after we were up to our cruising altitude, Captain O'Toole came back to sit with his family. He was surprised to find them all chewing gum. Susan had passed it out before they'd even started the engines.

Captain O'Toole had a hard time staying away from the cockpit for too long, thirty minutes after he sat down he was back up and heading forward. As is his custom, about twenty minutes before landing Captain O'Toole called back to us, requesting that our seatbelts be fastened. As we dropped through the cloud cover and leveled off, I had a feeling we were in the wrong place. Where I should have been seeing trees I saw a sparsely populated subdivision. After several minutes of studying the town below us, I thought I recognized it as being Roseburg, Oregon. Feeling a little adventurous, I popped my seatbelt and made my way forward.

"Gentlemen, is there a problem up here?" I quietly asked.

"You shouldn't be up here Miss Darla," Captain O'Toole said.

"That may be, but as the president of the company, I sometimes like to be adventurous. So why are we over Roseburg?"

"We don't know exactly where on the charts, the plant is located, but we did know where Roseburg is," Captain O'Toole started to explain.

"So we decided to fly it like we did last Wednesday," Bob explained. "Fly to Roseburg, take a heading of zero, four, five for thirty minutes, and look for the plant," Bob continued.

"We just hadn't counted on such a heavy cloud cover," Captain O'Toole concluded.

"Sounds like a plan. Let us know when we should be getting close and Suz and I will help look for the plant."

Returning to the main cabin Susan asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Nothing major," I replied, as I glanced over my shoulder. "They're just lost and neither one wants to get out and ask for directions."

Susan cracked up, laughing.

Margaret had a look on her face that was somewhere between terror and disbelief.

Giggling, I corrected myself, "Actually, everything is fine, we just hadn't counted on all the clouds. In about twenty-five minutes Susan and I need to help look for the plant."

Right on schedule, they started a search pattern. I moved to the left side of the plane while Susan stayed on the right side.

Fifteen minutes later Susan called out, "I think I see it, at about three o'clock."

I quickly moved to an empty seat on the right side and found what Susan had seen. "That's confirmed. Come right ninety degrees and we should be over the plant in a couple of minutes."

We circled the plant and airstrip twice, before lining up to land, Southeast to Northwest. We turned around and taxied back down the grass strip, coming to a stop on the concrete apron, in front of the hangar. I went forward and opened the door and descended the few stairs.

The three kids came to the doorway with their mother. "Can we go play," they asked in unison.

"I don't know where you can play, you'll have to ask Miss Darla," Margaret replied.

"Of course you can come out and play. Do you see that big building and all the grass between here and there?"

"Yes," they replied.

"You can run and play anywhere on that grass," I told them.

The two boys were down the stairs and off like a shot. Melissa was slightly more reserved, as she needed just a little help getting down the stairs, but once she was standing on the ground, she was off, after her brothers, calling out "Wait for me."

The boys stopped and looked at their sister. Running again, they quickly closed the gap between themselves and their sister. As they passed her, one on each side, they lightly tapped her shoulder and called out, "Tag, you're it."

Turning quickly, in pursuit of Walter, she cried out, "No fair."

I looked at Margaret and I smiled, saying "Some things never change."

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean. My older brothers were absolute demons when we were together. But, they were sure protective of their little sister when the school-yard bullies started sniffing around."

"You've got that right. Darla Anne is the baby in our family. Only once did a bully try messing with her. She learned real fast that Darla had three older sisters," Susan explained.

"Four girls, I'll bet that made for some crazy times around the bathroom, getting really for school or a dance."

"It wasn't too bad," Susan said. "Every bedroom has its own bathroom."

"My goodness, where do you live, in a hotel?" Margaret asked.

"It's been called that, on more than one occasion," Susan stated, with a giggle.

"We've been living with our aunt since our father was killed by a drunk driver and mother was hospitalized, six years ago. She owns an oil company in Texas. Auntie sort of adopted all of us, mom included," I explained.

"That's terrible. Is your mother all right?" Margaret asked.

"She was laid up for about five months, but she's doing just fine," Susan replied.

Bob and the Captain had finished shutting down the G1 and had joined us on the concrete apron. Together we all started walking towards the plant.

It took me a moment to remember one of the details about this plant. "Margaret, around the west end of the dormitory complex is a good size playground. I'm sure that this time of day, on a Saturday, there will be lots of kids, from the resident families, to play with. If you want to herd the kids in that direction, we'll send someone to get you when it's time for lunch."

"A playground, resident families, what kind of place are you running here?" Captain O'Toole asked.

"Piermont just signed paperwork to acquire the plant yesterday, so it’s none of our doing," Bob replied. "It's so remote; commuting for the employees wasn't feasible. When they built the plant, the owners built a dormitory to house the employees, while they were off shift, but were scheduled to work the next day. In the beginning they worked twelve hour shifts, three on, four off, then four on three off."

"As time passed schedules changed and families started living here full time," I continued. "There are three dormitories now, along with a large cafeteria, a school for Kindergarten through the eighth grade, a day care for younger children, a medical clinic, and a small restaurant, if you want a special night out."

"It sounds like quite the community," Margaret commented. She then veered off, heading towards the west end of the complex, calling for the kids to go with her.

We entered the plant through the same door as the day before. As was the case from the day before; we were greeted by a receptionist.

"Good morning Miss Drake, gentlemen. Welcome to De Forest Paper. How may I help you?"

This particular receptionist hadn't been here on either of my previous visits. Naturally, I was a little concerned, thinking the secret was out already.

"You know me?" I asked.

"Oh, we've never met, but I know who you are," she confessed. "Every other Tuesday I work the front reception desk. Part of my job there is the initial sorting of the weekly mail. I've seen your picture many times, on the cover of Paper Press."

"They really need to be more creative," I said. "We'd like to see Mr. Watson. We're picking up two airplanes and he's supposed to have the keys."

"You're telling me that Miss Darla Anne Drake comes to a remote paper plant, in central Oregon, just to pick up two airplanes? Somehow I find that hard to believe," the receptionist said.

"That's correct, Miss . . .?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's Mrs. Mrs. Roberta Stolle."

"It's nice to meet you Roberta," I greeted, and continued. "Yes, our business here today is just to pick up two airplanes."

"But, Miss Drake, everyone knows that Mr. De Forest wants to retire and he's been looking for someone to take over, or buy the company. I couldn't interest you in slightly used, fifteen year old paper plant, could I, hmmm, maybe take a look around. After all, as long as you're in the neighborhood, what would it hurt?"

"Roberta, that's quite a sales pitch, and I'll keep it and you in mind. But for now, we would like to see Mr. Watson about the planes and maybe have some lunch. By the way, how's the food around here?"

"Oh, it's just great. I don't know how or where they found him, but we've got this chef that makes ordinary cafeteria food taste like you're eating at the Ritz Carlton," Roberta cheerfully informed us.

"Well, that's good to know. Now, Mr. Watson please, and I'd appreciate it if you don't tell anyone else we're here."

"Of course, I won't say a word and I'll get Mr. Watson for you right away," Roberta said, as she reached for her phone.

We waited ten minutes for Mr. Watson to arrive, and he had the keys with him. The five of us headed out to the hangar and pushed out the two planes. After making our way back into the plant and to Mr. Watson's office, we talked briefly about the status of the plant, the rumors of Greg's retirement, and the rumors of a buyout. Monday's memo, confirming the sale to Piermont, may not be as big of a surprise as we'd intended. Hopefully, the fact that there is a new owner will be a surprise, at least to the right people.

After reuniting Patrick with his wife and children, we went to the cafeteria for lunch. I was pleased to discover that the reported quality of the food was not exaggerated. The cafeteria dining room was pretty much standard, lots of tables of various sizes, lots of chairs, and padded booths around the outside.

I didn't care where we sat, so I let Patrick and Margaret lead the way. I assumed they would know best, concerning seating for their children. They found a large empty corner booth, which was large enough for all of us. I ended up sitting such that I wasn't readily visible to most of the current patrons. That arrangement was fine with me, as I was marginally trying to keep a low profile. We had just decided who would be flying what, when some slightly more vocal ladies sat in the booth behind us. I sat back and quietly listened.

"Margo, have you heard the latest?" one women asked, excitedly.

"No, what's brewing?" the voice I assumed to be Margo asked.

"Janice in personnel says that Mr. De Forest is retiring," the first voice said.

"That's nothing new. He's been talking about retiring for a few years," Margo replied.

"Well, according to Janice it might be soon," the first voice added.

"Susan, you know better than to believe what Janice says. She starts more than 50% of the rumors around here," a third voice stated. That made voice one another Susan. "Wasn't it Janice that started the rumor, a year ago, about the Johnson twins being homosexuals, just because neither one of them would date her cousin, Whilamina."

"Good heavens, Joan. I saw a picture of Whilamina once and I'm telling you, there isn't a sane man alive that would date Whilamina," a fourth voice stated. By the process of deduction, voice three must belong to Joan.

"What Janice said in the past doesn't mean anything, this time she's got proof," Susan declared.

"Yeah, what kind of proof?" Joan asked.

"According to Janice, Delores signed for the Fourth Shift Inspection job. Now, just what does it tell you, when the President's private secretary signs for a production job?" Susan asked.

"You know, there were all those outside people here, for the last three days." voice four added.

"That's true," Margo added. "Some of them were in accounting and some went over every piece of equipment in production."

"So what, they were doing an audit for an insurance company," Joan stated.

"That's what they said, but Franklin in accounting, told me they were digging deeper than any auditor he's ever seen," Susan added.

"Oh, there's Franklin now," Margo interrupted, calling him over.

"Hi Margo, Susan, Joan, Carla, what's the latest from the grape vine?" Franklin greeted.

"Franklin, would you tell them what you told me about the guys that were in accounting," Susan asked.

"Sure, let me grab a chair," Franklin replied. A moment and the squeak of a chair later he continued. "Okay, I know we were told that those guys were doing an audit for an insurance company. Well, I'm telling you that was a crock of bull pucky."

"Oh, Franklin," Carla interrupted. "Cows do it to, but they don't brag about it."

"And they don't put it in crocks," Joan added.

There was some giggling and then Franklin continued, "Sorry about that. Anyway, the so called auditors dug through files going back ten years, which, for an insurance audit is crazy. They were also calling every supplier with a balance due of more than $500. They also calling some of our customers and asking all kinds of questions. I mean, really strange questions. Believe me, they had nothing to do with an insurance audit. Oh, one more thing, I recognized one of the men."

"Really, who was he? Carla asked.

"Well, I recognized him, but I couldn't put a name with the face, or remember where I knew him from, until this morning."

"What happened this morning that made you remember?" Joan asked.

"It was one of those times where you're racking your brain, trying to remember something, but it just won't come. Then, when you're doing something completely different and suddenly, the forgotten memory jumps out of your subconscious and screams, here I am, remember me. So, this morning I was washing Allison's hair and it came to me."

"Oooooooohh hoooooo," Joan teased.

"Relax Joan, Allison is his wife," Carla said.

"I know that, but from the way he's blushing, he was washing her hair while they were in the shower together," Joan declared.

"Big deal, I shower with Jimmy all the time. It's a great way to save water," Susan said.

"You're with Jimmy now?" Margo asked.

"Forget about Jimmy and Allison and showering together to save water, who was the guy?" Carla demanded.

"Oh, yeah, his name is Bill something. Where I saw him before was at my last job. He was going through the books at High Plains paper, just before High Plains was bought by that young girl, umm . . . Oh, I forget her name, but everyone calls her DD."

"You mean Darla Anne Drake?" Joan asked.

"That's her. How did you know it was her?" Franklin asked.

"Well duh, the copies of Paper Press that are left around in here aren't for decoration. You guys should try reading them some time," Joan explained.

"Okay, so I'm illiterate," Franklin complained. "I just hope they aren't buying this place. It took me four months to find this job after being laid off, when they bought High Plains paper."

"You mean they laid everyone off?" Susan asked.

"What?" Franklin asked. Then he explained himself, "No, no, almost everyone that was there, is still there all the production people; maintenance; most of management; almost everyone that had to do with putting paper out the door. The people they let go were mostly front office staff, accountants, sales, purchasing, people like that. Some of them moved into openings in production, but some of us just had to look elsewhere."

"Franklin, did you know that Delores just signed for the Fourth Shift Inspection job?" Susan asked.

"Really? I hadn't heard that. If you ladies will excuse me, I'm going to personnel and see what production openings they might have. I don't want to start looking again, Allison and I like it here." There was a screech of a chair as Franklin got up to leave.

"Well, what do you think now?" Susan asked.

"I think it's time to get back to work," Carla said.

"Oh, you're right, we've got eight minutes to be back on the line," Joan said, as they shuffled out of the booth.

"I know it's considered impolite to eavesdrop, but that was an interesting conversation," I admitted.

"It was indeed," Bob echoed.

"Well, do you want to know what I think?" Susan asked.

"What would that be?" I knew I was opening myself up for almost anything, but I asked anyway.

"I think we need to get you out of here, before anyone else recognizes you. As it is, I think any hope of your secret still being a secret after tomorrow afternoon, ranks right up there with a one way ticket to Neverland," Susan proclaimed, with a smile.

Smiling, Bob admitted, "I think Susan is right, with both predictions. There's an outside door at the other end of this row of booths. Why don't you, Captain O'Toole and his family take that door and head back for the planes. Susan and I will take care of returning the dishes to the kitchen, and then we'll catch up."

"Sounds like a good plan, Bob. We'll see you back at the planes," I agreed.

We made good our escape without being recognized, as far as we knew. The flight back to Portland was uneventful, although a little slower. The Cessna 206, being the slowest of the three, set the pace and altitude. Fortunately the cruising speed of the 206 was well above the stall speed of the G1.

I'm sure that our formation was amusing to anyone who saw us. Bob was in the lead, flying the 206. I was following Bob, maintaining a reasonable distance, in the slightly larger Piper Navajo. Lastly, Captain O'Toole was bring up the rear, in the G1. The formation reminded me of the food chain, little fish are eaten by a bigger fish, who are eaten by an even bigger fish.

This was the battle Piermont was currently facing; gobbling up the smaller companies while trying to not be gobbled up by the big company. Either way you look at it, I was right smack in the middle, hunting what's in front of me while making sure someone doesn't take a big bite out of my tail, at the same time.

As we left the airport, there was quite the line up in front of the Ameri-Moore hangar, the G1, the King Air, the Navajo, and the 206. We said farewell to Captain O'Toole and his family and then headed back to my hotel room to await Rick Landis.

"Good afternoon, Rick," I greeted, as I opened the door.

"Hello DD, I'm glad you invited me" Rick replied, as he shook my extended hand. Looking past me, he added "And Susan is here too. You've both grown so much since I saw you last."

"That was five years ago, Rick," Susan added, as she stood up to greet Rick.

"And this is?" Rick asked, indicating towards Bob, after shaking hands with Susan.

"This is Robert Warren, Executive Vice President, for Piermont Paper Products," I replied, formally introducing the two.

"Wow, both the big guns. I'm honored sir," Rick said, as he shook Bob's hand.

"Mr. Landis. DD tells me you're an honest journalist. I'm not sure, but isn't that a contradiction in terms?" Bob sarcastically replied.

"That may be the case with some journalists, Mr. Warren. Lord knows, there are enough unscrupulous journalists out there. Unfortunately, they give the rest of us a bad name. But, aren't there some equally unscrupulous businessmen in the paper industry, Mr. Warren? Should we assume from that, that everyone in the paper business is unscrupulous?" Rick countered.

Bob chuckled before replying, "Point made Mr. Landis. Please, call me Bob."

"As long as you call me Rick. Well, now that we've had today's fencing lesson, what's with all the cloak and dagger?" Rick asked.

"Cloak and dagger?" Susan asked.

"What else would you call it?" Rick asked. "Secret meetings and cryptic messages, seductive phone calls?"

"Seductive phone calls?" Susan asked.

I answered by telling Susan and Bob about our phone call, a week ago. Susan thought my seductive voice wasn't very seductive. She said I sounded like Natasha, as in Boris and Natasha, from the Bullwinkle cartoons. Leave it to a sister, to tease a sister.

Once we all sat down, we got down to business. Rick was aware of some of the information we presented. However, most of what we passed on took him completely by surprise. Rick took very careful notes and agreed to research all of the information we'd presented.

Just before I opened the door for Rick to leave, I reminded him, "Remember Rick, before you print anything, you have to give a copy of the final draft to the legal department at Ameri-Moore. If you print the story without their approval you're going to be liable for any complaints we receive and possibly legal action from Ameri-Moore. Any problem with that?"

"No, no problem at all, DD. It will take me two to three days to run down these leads and then do some additional background research. I should have the story ready for the lawyers next Friday or the following Monday."

"That will be just fine, Rick. I look forward to seeing what you do with this. Goodbye for now."

"So long everyone. It's been interesting," Rick said with a wave, as he walked through the door.

After Rick left, I sat next to Susan to contemplate our next move, when Susan asked, "Do you two really think that an article in a magazine is going to stop Bobby De Forest from blowing his gourd and going ape?"

I looked at my sister, with a smile. "Not at all, sis. We are quite certain that Bobby will, as you so colorfully put it, blow his gourd."

"However, by publicly announcing what we did last week, and why, we hope to protect our plants and people from direct retaliation," Bob continued.

"At least any direct retaliation from Alliance. I suppose someone else could seize the opportunity and make a move against us," I added.

"After Vermont's arson investigation team makes their announcement on Monday, about the fire in Brandon, any action or incidents involving our plants or personnel would look extremely suspicious," Bob concluded.

"I suppose you two know what you're doing. At least, after we're finished looking at plants on Monday, I won't be considered a possible target," Susan declared.

"Oh, and do you consider yourself a target right now?" I asked, while stealthily reaching for a pillow.

"Well, not at this exact moment, but where I've been with you, all this week, some might consider me a target," Susan replied.

"Wrong answer," I said, as I let the pillow fly.

"Why you . . ." Susan exclaimed, while making a grab for a pillow.

"I think this is my cue to leave, Bob said, as he headed for the door.

"COWARD," both Susan and I chorused.

Bob neatly dogged two pillows as he reached the door. "Dinner at seven?" he said, while hiding behind the door.

"Right," I said, as a pillow caught me square in the face.

"Score one," Susan exclaimed, as the door clicked shut.

You'll pay for that," I exclaimed.

The pillow fight lasted about fifteen minutes. In the end we were both sitting on the floor, exhausted and laughing wildly.

Sunday, July 16, 1972

Sunday morning it was back down to the Hills Creek plant. That's what Bob and I decided to call the remote De Forest paper plant, being that the river was the closest landmark to the plant.

Gregg's King Air had been moved and was sitting next to the living quarters, we assumed for easier loading. Not wanting to disturb anyone who might be sleeping, we stopped on the apron in front of the hangar. Bob walked over to the plant while Susan and I stayed with plane. We figured we were pushing our luck at trying to keep the secret that Piermont had bought out De Forest Paper, especially with several confirmed sightings of "DD" in their plant.

Fifteen minutes later, we saw a jeep come around the end of the buildings, heading for the hangar and us. The jeep swung around and backed up to the nose of the King Air.

The driver got out and greeted us formally. "Good morning Miss Drake, and good morning to you too," he indicated Susan, with the latter greeting. Then he proceeded to attach a pipe with a special adapter to the nose wheel of the plane.

"Would one of you hold the end tow bar while I finish backing in?" he asked. Susan held the bar as he backed up.

After everything was hooked up, he asked, "Would you like to ride up to the plant in the jeep?"

We accepted his offer. Susan climbed into the back and I sat up front. Once we were moving, I asked, "Excuse me, but who are you and how do you know me?"

"I'm sorry. The name's Walter, ma'am, Walter Carver. I'm one of the third shift engineers. I read most of the paper and logging trade publications and your picture has been in quite a few."

"It's nice to meet you Walter. You're right about the trade publications, you'd think they'd find something more interesting to write about. Tell me, which shift is currently working," I asked.

"First shift is on now, second shift will take their place tonight at six. While you might not think so, most of us engineers, find your adventures in the paper business quite interesting," Walter replied.

“Yes, well don’t believe everything you read. Those reporters do seem to have a flair for embellishing the truth,” I stated.

“That may be Miss Drake, but they do make for some interesting reading. Any chance you could confirm or deny the rumors that have been going around the plant?” Walter asked.

“Just what rumor would that be?” I asked in return.

“There are several rumors going around, most of them seem to indicate that you’ve purchased the plant,” Walter clarified.

“Looks like the cats out of the bag sis,” Susan leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

“A rumor is not an admission of fact, Suz,” I clearly stated.

“Suz? Oh, you must be Miss Drake’s sister Susan. It’s nice to meet you,” Walter said, as we pulled to a stop. “You are right Miss Drake, a rumor isn’t fact. Would you like to add any facts to the rumors?”

“Not at this time Walter, not at this time,” I replied, as I climbed out of the jeep.

“Oh well, I guess we’ll just have to let the rumor mill keep chugging along. Although, you being here today will add spice to the rumor mill,” Walter admitted as he unhooked the tow bar. “Nice to meet you Miss Drake, you to Miss Susan. You both have a nice day.” With that Walter climbed back into the jeep and headed back the way he came.

“I told you sis. There is no way you can keep secret the fact that ‘DD’ bought an Eighty Million dollar company for Fifteen Million. It just can’t be done,” Susan exclaimed, after Walter was out of earshot.

“We don’t have to keep it a secret for much longer. We were just trying to give Greg and his wife time to get away before Bobby’s spies hear about it.”

“You think Bobby has spies working here, to keep tabs on his brother?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it for a second, Suz. Not for a second.”

“Wow. It’s a good thing that we all work for Grandma.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, we all work in different divisions so there’s no competition between us. All we’re trying to do is make Grandma proud of us.”

“You’re right there, none of us would do anything to make Grandma ashamed of us,” I concluded.

Shortly after Susan and I had finished our discussion, several people came out of the building carrying boxes, and boxes, and more boxes. Not wanting my face to be on public display, I did a little disappearing act by pulling the curtain that separated the cockpit and the cabin, and slipped into the pilots seat. Susan joined me and we left the loading and balancing of the two planes to Bob and Greg.

The rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. Mrs. De Forest had packed more than could be carried in the two King Airs'. It was mutually decided that Bob and Greg would make a second trip, in what was now Piermont's King Air. While they were gone Susan and I got better acquainted with Mrs. De Forest as we helped her start the unpacking process. When the boys got back, (boys? Bob is almost three times my age and Greg is at least four times) we fired up both King Airs' and headed for Portland.

* * * To Be Continued * * *


Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]

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Comments

Another good chapter, though

Another good chapter, though my comment really is in regards to a comment that Darla Ann made in Chapter 5. She stated that all VP's would be required to have their pilots license. This is impractical for many reasons and I can't see Darla Ann not awarding a VP position to someone that is deserving and qualified but who is unable to get a pilots license. There are many reasons why someone is unable to acquire a license, with the major reason being unable to pass the medical. The best example that I can think of is a fairly common ailment, that being blue green color blind. The FAA won't give you a basic single engine land license, let alone a multi engine ticket if you have this ailment. I've known a couple of people who had the skills, aptitude and knowledge who would have made excellent pilots but couldn't pass the physical for this reason. It would be much cheaper to hire a pilot than to lose a valuable Sr. employee because of a minor physical condition that doesn't affect their job performance and Darla Ann is much too sharp to let that happen.

Other than that minor issue, thank you for continuing a wonderful story. I feel that you have done a great job of capturing the feel and flow of the original story (though your chapters are shorter LOL) and hope that if Crystal ever comes back and continues where she left off, she allows you to continue with your "alternate version" or incorporates what you have done into her story line, because it has been excellent.

I'm sure Darla will find a way

Darla may want all her VPs to be pilots but I'm sure she won't let that requirement prevent a good VP from staying on and doing a good job.

Thanks, Penny. I have been following this story for years and am so glad you have picked up the story line and continued on with it so well. Many thanks.

Much Love,

Valerie R

Always happy to see DD

Always happy to see DD stories appear. There is permanent adventure in her life, and we all get to live it with her and her family members; those of her personal family, and those of her business family. Plus I personally love learning about the many facets of both the logging and paper industries.

Love it

NoraAdrienne's picture

Penny, I hope you wont have to force us to wait too long for the next chapter in the "Life and Times of DD". It's such a fun read.

DD Rides Again # 6

This is going great Penny it is so close to what Crystal had going and thank you for continuing this great story, now if if we could get someone to continue "I can't go home like this!" too! Thanks again! Richard

I cant

I woid love it if someone would continue I can't go home like this aswell

belle

Yippie

Yes an new addition. The person whom posted a worried message about the continuation of this continuation wasn't the only worried person ;)

Thanks for the pleasant pastime!

Yours, Leontine

Already said

Dahlia's picture

So many things have been well said by the other commentators above me that I can't really improve. That being said, I'll just say thanks for another addition to one of my favorite tales. Rare though they are, it doesn't take but a moment of reading and I'm up to speed and like there has been no intermission.

Dahlia

Things are goingto get VERY

Renee_Heart2's picture

Intresting real soon with De Frost quickly with the Pirmount Paper De Frost when he learns DD baught his brothers paper company in Organ. As Suz so elquiny put it "he's going to blow his gourd" lol I look foward to seeing what happens next :)

Love Samantha Renee Heart

More Please!

Piper's picture

Another great chapter! I find myself waiting with baited breath for each chapter, habitually checking every day for a few weeks after each chapter.

Please keep them coming! :)

-Piper


"She was like a butterfly, full of color and vibrancy when she chose to open her wings, yet hardly visible when she closed them."
— Geraldine Brooks