The line to check in at Air Canada was pretty short, and I could move around; back and forth between the ropes. I'd sneak past Mamma and loop around Pappa, then back past Mamma and loop around Kimberley.

After we left our luggage to be x-rayed at the CATSA station, Frances herded us to the line for our security screening. Now THAT was a long line. Frances and Logan were in front, with René and the other two behind us, as we started zigzagging back and forth. Move four feet and wait five minutes, move four feet and wait five minutes, and so on and so on. I knew what standing still would do to Sally, especially after being cooped up in the van, so to stay in character, I had to start moving about, which upset Frances even more.

The more I had to move, the more Frances complained. After a few minutes of me circling about and bumping into him, Frances came unglued and yelled at me, to the displeasure of all the other travelers.

Having seen Sally do it several times in the DVD's, I frowned, took a deep breath, and blew raspberries.

"Sally!" Suzette scolded. "We've talked about this before. You know you're not supposed to do raspberries at strangers, it’s rude."

"Sorry Mamma," I replied, even though I wasn't.

"You should apologize to him, not to me, and you need to be more careful about bumping into people," she added.

"Sorry mister," I said, as sweetly as I could without choking on it. Frances grumbled and turned away.

I went to hold Kimberley's hand. She knelt down and whispered, "Munchkin, stay away from him. If you make him mad, he'll keep a closer watch on us. We'll never be able to slip away, if he's watching us all the time."

About that time, one of the CATSA agents came over and talked quietly with Suzette and Jean-Paul, for a few minutes. Before I knew what was happening, Jean-Paul took my free hand and said to Kimberley and me, "Come on girls, we're getting out of this line."

"What!" Frances turned and cried out, when he heard Jean-Paul. "Stop! You aren't going anywhere without-"

"Are you a member of this family?" the agent sternly asked Frances.

"No, but I’m responsible for-"

"And I'm responsible for the security of this airport and the safety of everyone here. Would you be interested in spending some time in one of my holding cells?" the agent demanded.

"No, I wouldn't," Frances grumbled.

"I thought not. Stay in this line and please … try to stay calm. From the size of this line, your wait should only be another twenty minutes. They'll be waiting for you at the departure gate."

If he were bronzed, Frances could have been a statue; an ugly statue, with his mouth gaping open, and fire coming out his eyes.

As the CATSA agent led us towards the First Class security gate, which only had two people waiting, I turned back towards Frances and blew one short burst of raspberries.

"Sally!"

"Sorry Mamma," but I really wasn't.

Before the CATSA agent left us, Jean-Paul and Suzette talked with him for a few moments more. Then they thanked him for helping us.

"Sally, say thank you to the nice man," Suzette prompted.

I stopped my impersonation of a bouncy Tiger and smiled at the nice man. Then I motioned for him to bend down.

Instead of bending down, he dropped to one knee, which did what I wanted, it put him within striking distance. Without warning I pounced on him, throwing my arms around him. I gave him one of my best hugs, which he returned. Pulling back, I snuck in a little kiss to his nose before saying, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, young miss," he replied, with a big smile. "You be a good girl now, okay?" To which I nodded.

'Ooh, I like this guy. He didn't call me little.'

I gave him another really big hug, before letting go. He stood up and reached into his pocket. Pulling out a handkerchief, he wiped his eyes and waved.

Suzette took my hand and led me toward the security gate. I turned back in time to get in a last smile and wave, which he returned; before he went back to doing his job.

After we were through the security gate, I was sitting in a chair, looking back at the gate, while Kimberley put my shoes back on. To my surprise, I saw not one, but two very familiar faces coming through the same security gate. I started to wave, but at the last second remembered, that as Sally, I shouldn't know RJ or Miss Adams. What really had me confused, was there were two boys with them; two boys that looked strangely familiar. I didn't know if I should point out RJ and Miss Adams to Kimberley. In the end, I decided that Kimberley would find out soon enough. I smiled, safe in the knowledge that whatever the plan was, it was beginning to unfold. With any luck, when their plan came to its conclusion, Kimberley and I would be returning home to Immigration Manor.

Kimberley had finished with my shoes and I hopped off the chair, just as RJ, Miss Adams, and the two boys walked past. I took one more look past the security gates, at the line of people waiting. I saw Frances at the end of one of the zig-zags. He still had three zigs and two zags to go before reaching the gates. As Sally is always happy, I smiled and waved in response to Frances' hateful glare.

As we walked down the concourse, Miss Adams and company, managed to stay about a hundred feet in front of us. The gears in my mind were turning rapidly, as they usually did. I couldn’t quite figure out what was happening. Were they intentionally leading us or did we just happen to be following?

I knew that something was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon. Because I knew I wouldn't be Sally much longer, I pretty much slipped out of character, and happily held Kimberley's hand. Even though I was feeling good, I was still a little nervous about Frances catching up to us, so I looked back up the concourse periodically. I was met with yet another surprise; after looking back one time, I looked forward and only saw RJ and Miss Adams; the two boys had disappeared.

We'd walked almost the entire length of the concourse when I saw Mr. Black and Jacqueline in the distance. As we got closer, Suzette recognized Jacqueline and rushed ahead, with the rest of us quickly catching up.

"Where are my girls?" Suzette demanded, once she was close enough for Jacqueline to hear her.

"Relax Suzette. They're fine, they're both fine. They send their love and are anxious to see you both," Jacqueline assured her, while putting one arm around her shoulders. "Arabelle wants to know what's taking so long, and Sally, I'm afraid, has become quite a handful. She insists that someone made her a princess and she wants to be treated like a real princess."

"Oops, we may have created a monster," Kimberley mumbled.

"I'm afraid that would have been us," I confessed aloud.

"So, you're not talking like Sally anymore?" Mr. Black quizzed.

"Is there a reason for me to continue portraying the Munchkin Princess?"

"Don't start that with me, young lady. I'm wise to your little game," he sarcastically replied. "And no, there isn't any reason to continue with the masquerade."

"Thank you. How did you manage getting us through security so quickly?"

"Actually, we had nothing to do with it," RJ informed us. "Wednesday and I, were supposed to follow you down the concourse and let Mr. Black know when you were in position. The actions of the security officer, took everyone by surprise. We don't know who he is, or why he did what he did."

"His name is Leon Defrece," Suzette informed us. "He's head of security here. He helped us, because of how Frances reacted to Sally, I mean, Matilda dancing around. Leon knows what it's like to be scored by ignorant on-lookers. You see, he and his wife have three children, and their youngest daughter is autistic. She also has … special needs."

This announcement took everyone by surprise and the magnitude of his kindness suddenly took on a new meaning. I wished I could have given him another hug. The six of us were quiet for a few moments.

Interrupting our thoughts, Mr. Black's PDA chimed. Checking the message he exclaimed, "We're out of time. Your security detachment has just cleared the TSA checkpoint and they're running down the concourse. Jean-Paul, if you and Suzette would please come with us, we'll take you to your daughters. RJ, good luck to you on your travels. Kimberley, Matilda, these cases are yours. Enjoy the flight and I'll see you both later."

Jacqueline handed us the two carry on suitcases she had next to her.

Mr. Black produced a key and opened a door, into what appeared to be a service corridor. Jean-Paul, Suzette, and Jacqueline quickly went through, followed by Mr. Black, who locked the door from the inside.

"Let's go girls! We need to get you changed," RJ said, as he led us down the concourse another fifty yards or so, to a single stall, family, restroom. "Sorry, but we're out of time and there's only one. We don't want they're security team seeing you before you've changed, so you'll have to change at the same time. Sorry about that."

Taking me in one hand and her carry on bag in the other, Kimberley started towards the restroom, saying, "Come on Munchkin, I don't want to be out here when Frances shows up. He'll want to know where Jean-Paul and Suzette are."

"I'm with you. Have fun with Frances, RJ," I called back to the confused pair.

"I don't even know Frances," I heard RJ say, as the door closed.

"Why don't you use the toilet while I check out these bags?" Kimberley suggested. Taking the bag from me, she folded down the baby changing station.

"I think I'm a little big for that," I sarcastically commented.

"Are you sure? If I left your head hanging off one end, your bottom should fit at the other end. Of course, I'd have to hang your feet from the ceiling," she teasingly replied, as she laid the bag on the changing station and opened it. "Hmm, this is interesting. Munchkin, I heard a rumor about you having a little trouble at school a couple of months back, on Freaky Friday. Is there any truth the rumor?"

"Don't tell me, the suite cases are full of boy’s clothes!"

"As I see it there are two options; change into male mode, or face an angry Frances."

"Some choice. Just curious, what underwear did they pack for me?" I asked.

Kimberley replied by holding up a pair of tighty-whities, that looked like they'd fit Charles.

"You sure those aren't yours?" I queried.

"The tag on this case says Jeffrey Cardon and the other one says ... It looks like I'm going to be Jonathan for a while. That makes sense; Frances would be looking for two girls. Both nametags are in English, not French. I guess that means we're back to speaking English."

"Great! I'm changing names, language, and gender. Instead of being Mr. Black's daughter and speaking French, I'm RJ's son and speaking English; and somewhere in there I spent some time as Sally. I think I need to have a long visit with Ellen, when we get back, I think I'm suffering from an identity crises." That had Kimberley laughing as I continued, "Well, this Jeffrey has a little problem holding his water, so I think I'll stick with the pull-ups for now. How many of those did you pack in the diaper bag?"

Dropping the disgusting piece of adolescent male clothing, Kimberley retrieved her silk diaper bag. "There's only five here."

"Well, I only had one accident yesterday and, so far, none today; knock on wood. Those five will have to do, until we get whereever we're going and we can get some more," I said, as I stood up, pulling the pull-up I'd been wearing back into place.

"There are only two sets of clothes in this bag, so I don't think we'll be gone too long."

"That's good. Hand me a pair of pants and could you please help me with these silly buttons?" I pleaded.

'Buttons all the way down your back, not a brilliant idea. It must have been thought up by some sadistic nanny a hundred years ago; a diabolical way to prevent some poor defenseless little girl from undressing herself. Oh well, some things never change.'

After turning into Jeffrey, we carefully packed my wig and the pull-ups into my bag. Then we stuffed Sally's clothes and the tighty-whities in the garbage can. Taking my bag, I left Kimberley to change into Jonathan.

'I guess it’s a good thing my hair hasn't grown too much. I do miss having the long hair tickling my ears. I think when we get back home I'll see if I can get a different wig, something in my natural blond color this time … brunettes have way too much fun.'

I found RJ leaning against a vending machine. "Where's Miss Adams, or is it Mrs. Cardon?" I wondered aloud, in English.

"It's Miss Baker, she's your governess. She's gone ahead to the gate to find us some seats."

"Am I so rotten that I need a governess?"

RJ led me to a nearby chair. RJ sat while I stood next to him, so he was at my level and could speak quietly, "Rotten? Not that I am aware of, overly curious perhaps, but not rotten. Our cover story is that I'm out of the country frequently. Miss Adams has been your governess for the last four years. You and Jonathan spend about three months during the summer traveling with me. The rest of the time you spend on our estate in Colorado. Private tutors, horses, four-wheelers, jet-skis. I'm gone one or two weeks out of four."

"Hmm, sounds like a rough life," I commented with a smile.

"Oh yes, a very rough life. Can you remember all that?"

I recited everything back just as he told it to me, then asked a lot of questions, what breed of horses, the size of the estate, make of the jet-skis and four-wheelers, number of tutors and subjects, what part of Colorado, do we ski, or snowboard, what countries have we visited, how many languages do I speak ... just a few details.

"Hmm, I think we should have you come up with the cover stories in the future."

"In the future, what do you mean, in the future? How often have you done this kind of thing? I didn't find any computer records of anything like this, happening before."

"And you won't find any records, either. This is the first time we've had to mount a rescue mission, and hopefully the last. Oh good, there's Jonathan. Can you fill him in on the details?" He stood and waved, so Jonathan would know where we were.

"No problem, all I need is someplace where we won't be overheard," I assured him.

"At last, we're all together again," RJ commented, as Jonathan arrived where we were standing. "Let's see if we can find Miss Adams."

As we arrived in the gate area, we located Miss Adams. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her or rather, who was sitting in the seat behind her … Frances. RJ, not knowing any better, went right over and sat next to Miss Adams. Personally I didn't feel like I wanted to push my luck, at least not just yet.

Setting my small bag down next to Miss Adams's, I took Kimberley's hand and started dragging her towards the windows at the end of the concourse. In my best 'I'm not scared' voice said, "Come on Jonathan, let's go watch the airplanes." At that moment, I'd have done almost anything to get away from Frances and the others.

While standing by the windows, I filled Kimberley in on our new cover story. I wanted to send RJ a note, asking about a few more details. It was then I realized, no one had said anything about our PDA's. I began to wonder if they were in our bags and we'd just missed seeing them. Asking Kimberley, she hadn't seen them either, so we were still stuck without any advanced communication abilities.

About twenty minutes had gone by, when Miss Adams came over to where we were standing, asking, "All right you two, why are you hiding over here?"

"You see the man sitting in the row behind Dad (RJ)? Oh wait ... he just stood up and started pacing; the man in the cheap brown sweater." Kimberley asked Miss Adams.

"I see him, so what?"

"That's Frances," I spoke softly, not wanting to be overheard. Miss Adams expression showed that she didn't know who he was.

"He's in charge of the team that have been watching the Moreau's," I clarified.

"Oh, that's funny," she was definitely amused. "I guess that explains why he sounds so upset. It also explains why he's ordering those other two guys around."

"Two?" I asked.

"Frances had four others with him at the hotel," Kimberley explained.

Miss Adams paused for a moment listening to an overhead announcement. "Oh well, no time to worry about it now, that's our flight. Stand tall, walk fast, and pretend you don't know him."

As we were walking to rejoin RJ, and about to pass Frances, I realized that neither he nor any of his people had recognized us. With that knowledge I had what someone would have referred to as a scathingly brilliant idea.

'I wonder which old movie that came from? It had to be from some old movie Mom forced me to watch. Gee, I miss her.'

Asking RJ, um, Dad, for a note pad and a pen, caused a few strange looks, from RJ and Kimberley. Reluctantly he dug a pad out of his computer case. Handing it to me, along with a pen, I sat down and quickly started writing, as neatly as I could.

Tearing off the page, I neatly folded it. Returning the pad and pen to RJ, I said, "Stay close guys, I may need your help."

With confusion on their faces, they followed, as I boldly walked over to Frances; who was talking on his cell phone. He tried to ignore me as I stood a few feet away, staring at him. Being polite, I patiently waited, for a few moments, before interrupting, in English, "Excuse me."

Frances rotated in his chair, as much as he could, trying to rudely brush me aside.

I moved a step closer and asked, "Excuse me, but is your name Frances?"

“Allez-vous et arráªtez de me déranger! Vous DAMN Brat peu gáªnant!” He loudly spit out his reply.
(Go away and stop bothering me! You Damn annoying little Brat!)

Pretending that I didn't know French, I ignored his insults.

"I apologize if I'm disturbing you, but you look like the man the girl described as Frances," I said quickly, holding up the note I'd written. "She asked me to give this to a man named Frances. So are you Frances?"

"Oui, mon name est Frances. Of what girl do you speak?" He gruffly replied in English, but with a very heavy French accent.

"She was a French girl, almost as tall as me. She had brown pigtails, a long dress, and a cute smile. Anyway, she asked me if I would give this note to someone named Frances, and then she described who she meant. So, if you are Frances, I guess this is for you." With that said I handed him the note. Turning to leave I paused to say, "Have a nice day."

As we headed for the gate, I turned back in time to see Frances shred the note. I called to Kimberley, so she could enjoy the show. There were pieces of paper flying everywhere. Then suddenly Frances stormed out of the waiting area and headed back up the concourse.

"What did you write?" Kimberley asked.

"I'll tell you when we're on the plane," I replied with a smile. "By the way, where are we going?"

"I've no idea. This has all happened so fast, I haven't thought to ask, and you've kept me so preoccupied, that I haven't been paying attention to the announcements," she replied.

As we arrived at the gate, RJ presented all four boarding passes to be scanned. As the lady from the airline handed them back she said, "Thank you, Mr. Cardon. Enjoy your stay in London."

Kimberley and I looked at each other in surprise. Then we smiled, and giggled at each other as we went through the gate and down the companion way.

'Yes, I know, giggling is a girl’s thing, but at that moment it was the right thing to do.'

"Have you ever been to London?" I asked, as we made our way down the companion way.

"No, we’ve been in several European countries, Asia, and were scheduled to go to Australia next summer; I guess we'll have to learn real English for that one. But, we've never been anywhere in the United Kingdom," Kimberley replied, I guess a little too loudly.

"Then this will be a treat for both of you," added the stewardess, taking us by surprise, as we stepped onboard the airplane. As we suddenly looked at her, she formally greeted us, "Welcome aboard."

We were soon seated, I was next to RJ, while Kimberley and Miss Adams were in the row behind us. Traveling first class wasn't bad, I could get used to that kind of life style. There was only one little problem; because I'm so small and the seats in first class are so big, AND the seatbelts are mounted midway along the side of the seat instead of at the back of the seat, the stewardess put me in a special booster seat, just so the seatbelt would be tight; geez.

Once more I found myself with nothing to do and no PDA to do it with.

'I've got to find a way to get my own PDA, something that I can keep when I have to turn the others in. I wonder what they're going to do with the old ones when they upgrade the rest of the school. Better yet, with my security specialty, I wonder if I can talk them into getting me a special PDA; one that's a step above the others. Hmm, that's worth thinking about, it'll take one heck of a sales job, but if I can pull it off, I'll never be stuck on an airplane twiddling my thumbs again. I guess I could kill some time by talking; what a crazy idea.'

"Excuse me RJ, may I ask you some questions? Or should I call you Dad?"

"Well, that's two questions. And I guess for the next little while, you should call me dad. What other questions are on your mind?"

"I was wondering, who were the two boys that came through security with you and Miss Adams?" I quietly asked.

"Why, that was you and Jonathan, don't you remember?"

"I remember everything. I remember spending two weeks learning not to cry, when Kimberley changed my diapers. I remember trading places with Sally and Arabelle. I remember Frances springing the trap, and wondering if Kimberley and I were ever going to see the Manor again. I remember Frances, storming in the next morning, and ... all right, I don't remember everything, but I know that Kimberley and I went through security, with Jean-Paul and Suzette. So who went through security with you?"

"Jeffrey, you're not getting into the spirit of this conversation. You don't know anyone named Jean-Paul, Suzette, Arabelle, or Sally. You and Jonathan came through security with Miss Adams and me, remember now?"

"Oh, yes, I remember now; silly me. So, why are we going to London?"

"Actually, I'm the only one going to London. When we get to Newark, you, Jonathan, and Miss Adams will be changing planes, you're going home; that is, you'll be flying to Denver. By the way, they were two students from Wardenclyffe, who happened to look like you two."

"I guess that makes sense. So why are you going to London?"

"From London I'll hop over to Edinburgh, for a day."

"What's in Edinburgh?"

"One of several computer supply houses that the school uses."

'Things are looking up; this is going to take a lot of work, and fast talking.'

"So, what are the chances of me going with you to Edinburgh?"

"I'd say about ninety-nine percent against."

"So, you're saying there's a chance!"

"Jeffrey, you and Jonathan will be going back home. Your rescue in Quebec was an unforeseen emergency. However, there's no need for you to go with me to Edinburgh."

"But the tickets-"

"It's all ready been arranged,"

"But, why CAN'T I go with you to Edinburgh?"

"Because, it isn't necessary for you to go with me. I've already forwarded your input on the new PDA's. I'm just going to do a final checkout of the upgraded model and arrange to purchase the quantity we need."

"But I found the problem with the interface to the PC's."

"Anyone could have found that."

"Well, what about the hole I found, that let me link my PDA directly with Kimberley's? And after linking with her PDA, I was able to route a signal into the server and then back out, going into your PDA. You can't tell me that anyone could have replaced your main screen background while your PDA was in your hand and make you think it was a server error."

"Wait ... that was you? But, I traced that back to Kimberley. I was surprised when she denied all knowledge of the incident. Do you know how much trouble she was in because of you?"

"Oops, me and my big mouth. I hate it when I'm stupid," I softly cursed at myself.

"Okay Jeffrey, from the beginning, what did you do?"

"I can't show you how I did it, I don't have my PDA. It's back at school."

"Jeffrey!"

"Oh, all right, I'll try to describe what I did. It would be easier to show you."

"I'll allow for some errors in your descriptions. First off, how did you link into Kimberley's PDA without her knowing it?"

Looking back, I didn't need to worry about being bored. I should have been worried about what would come out of my mouth. After I finished describing my various activities, RJ decided it was time to trade seats with Kimberley.

"Jeffrey, what did you do? Dad looks upset, or is it rattled? I've always had a hard time reading him," Kimberley whispered, as she sat down.

"I forgot to keep my big mouth shut, is what I did," I softly mumbled,

"Keep your mouth shut about what?"

"Before I answer your question, I need to apologize for getting you into trouble."

"You got me into? … When did you get me into trouble? ... Wait a second, about a week after we got the demo PDA's, RJ accused me of tampering with his system. He even had a printout, showing a data trace, leading from his PDA to mine. I didn't know anything about it, but he had the trace and there was nothing I could say, or do, to defend myself."

"I'm sorry. I didn’t think you’d got in trouble, because of me."

"Do you realize ... I spent a week doing potatoes, because of your little prank, you little-"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" I interrupted, before she could finish her sentence. I had scooted as far away from her as I could, which wasn't far, being that I was strapped into that booster seat.

Kimberley, taking advantage of my confinement, leaned over and put her angry face so close to my terrified face that our noses touched just briefly. "I’ll make a deal with you, teach me how you did it and I won't rip your arms out of their sockets."

I blinked, seeing an evil smile grow across her face, as she backed away. Finally realizing she wasn't really mad at me, I relaxed. Wrong thing to do, after being afraid I was going the get my face rearranged. I suddenly knew I had another problem to worry about, getting to the bathroom before my pull up leaked.

Looking at my pants, I meekly asked, "Jonathan, can you help me out of this seat? I need to, um ... Well, I need to go."

"Sure thing." She quickly unbuckled me and gently helped me up.

I motioned for her to lean down. "I also need something out of my suitcase," I whispered.

"I thought so. I saw it in your face. It's my fault, I'm sorry," she replied.

Kimberley got my bag down from the overhead compartment. Setting it on her seat, she pulled one zipper open just far enough to pull out what I needed. She slipped the pull up under my shirt, so it wasn't obvious, and then she let me out into the aisle. It’s a good thing for me that the shirt was larger than I usually wear. The restroom was only two rows up, and fortunately it wasn't in use.

Once inside, I paused a moment looking around, before I kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants.

'It's a good thing I'm small. At least I can turn around and sit down, without hurting myself. I don't know how someone like RJ could use this thing without hitting their head or tripping over their own feet. Guess I didn't miss anything on the flights to Quebec. Maybe diapers are a good thing. Instead of spending money on these tiny bathrooms, they could just diaper everyone, before they get on the plane. I'm sure that would be welcomed by all ... NOT!'

Kimberley was waiting for me when I went back to my seat. "I'm really sorry, Jeffrey. I didn't mean to scare you like that."

"Don't worry about it. I should have been watching the time a little closer. I should have gone to the bathroom twenty minutes before you changed places with Dad."

"Really? You mean you held it for more than two hours? Jeffrey, that's great."

"Hey yeah, I didn't think of it that way. This might be easier than I thought."

"Now, now, don't get too carried away. You also haven't had much to drink today. Two hours is still really good though."

"Okay, you're the teacher here, what's next?"

"Well, I still think that you should go every hour and a half, maybe pushing it to an hour an forty-five minutes."

"You're right. What do we tell them?" I ask, pointing back to RJ and Miss Adams.

"The truth. After all, they're going to notice how often you'll be going to the restroom. I'm sure they'll be supportive. Remember, they're part of the staff at Immigration Manor. They'll go out of their way to help a student."

"If you say so, it's just a little embarrassing, you know, having other people know I'm ten years old and I’m being toilet trained."

"Better to have them know and helping you, than to have them not know and have accidents."

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that."

"So tell me, what did you write, that had Frances shredding the paper?" Kimberley asked, changing the subject.

“I don’t remember exactly.”

“Give it your best shot. Frances was really upset. I’ve never seen paper fly in so many directions.”

“Okay, Best as I can remember, it went something like this;

”Dear Mr. Frances,
I am pleased to inform you that your suspicion of an exchange of Jean-Paul’s girls with two American girls was correct. Impersonating Sally has been a unique experience for me, one that I will remember always, and one that I will never repeat. The real Sally and Arabelle have been outside of your feeble attempt at control, for the last three days. I would love to tell you where they are, but I do not possess that knowledge.

As for Jean-Paul and Suzette, some friends of mine escorted them off the airport grounds shortly after we started down the concourse. They are now in route, to be united with their daughters. Given the fact that you are in possession of their cell phones, tracking them by that means will simply not be possible. Looks like you goofed again.

As for the notes and designs on Jean-Paul's laptop, think again. While he and I were discussing computers, I learned that if the wrong password is used, when logging in, the hard drive will erase itself. It seems that Jean-Paul knows as much about computers, as he does about nuclear weapons.

If I were you, I would start thinking about a different line of work. I have just a little recommendation, if I may be so bold, I wouldn’t put on your resume that you are a former member of French Army Intelligence, being that you've just been outwitted by a small ten-year-old girl.

Have a nice day.”

Kimberley was having a hard time not wetting her own pants, she was laughing so hard. She was drawing a lot of attention from the other passengers, not to mention RJ and Miss Adams. Of course we had to tell them why Kimberley was laughing so much and what I written to Frances. When everyone had calmed down, Kimberley admitted, “Jeffery, I’m glad you’re on our side. I don’t think I would want to go up against you head to head,”

"I see. Well, on the surface I'd say he's fine and going with you would not cause any problems. However, I need to have a little chat with both of them, before I can make an accurate determination, and I reserve the right to keep him here … if I feel it’s in his best interest."

"But?" I tried to interrupt.

"Goats butt, birds fly, and a young man under my care, will have my permission, before leaving the country ... again. Now, shall we go find someplace quiet where we can talk?"

With my excitement somewhat deflated, I nodded. Silently, Ellen took my hand and led me off, with Kimberley following close behind.

"Tell me, Jeffrey, what happened after you traded places with Sally," Ellen asked, when she came back and sat next to me.

Talk about a Readers Digest abridgement; I squeezed forty-eight hours into fifteen minutes. I omitted certain parts, like Kimberley sleeping with me, and my little trip down memory lane. Being that she already knew about my loss of bladder control, I didn't think I needed to mention that, either; how wrong I was.

“How are you coping with your little problem?” Ellen asked

“Which problem?” I asked, not wanting to volunteer anything.

Ellen leaned closer and softly asked, “I’m talking about the little problem we discussed in my office, the day before we left the school. You were very upset about having lost all control of your bladder. I’m asking how you have been dealing with it, and how you plan to deal with it?”

I could feel my face getting warmer, there’s something about psychiatrists and their being completely blunt, that seems to cause one's natural color to change. “Oh … that!" I softly replied. I paused a moment, taking a deep breath, before I continued. "Well, after we knew the cat was out of the bag, we knew there was no point in waiting to get me out of diapers. After all, I didn't want some nanny in France changing me. Kimberly’s been helping me; she has some experience along those lines. I’ve been going to the bathroom every hour and a half. It was hard at first, getting my muscles to relax when I wanted them to, but it's starting to get easier. I’m using Sally’s pull up diapers, but my supply is running low.”

“How often do you need a change?”

“Only once yesterday and once today, but that was only because Jonathan scared me.”

“I see. Do you think you can keep this up? That is can you remember to go on time?”

“Now that I have this back,” I held up my PDA. “I can set the alarm to go off every hour and a half. So I should be good. We told RJ and Miss Adams, they both agreed to help me.”

“You and Kimberley have done well, having progressed this far on your own, I’m impressed. How many pull ups do you have?”

“Only four,” I sheepishly replied.

“I see. Tell me, Jeffrey, is there anything else that you think I should know about?” she asked, while giving me that look.

'You know the look I mean. Its the one your mother uses when she knows what you've been doing, but she wants you to confess to it, on your own. I've always hated that look. Or maybe it was the fact that I was caught doing what I shouldn't have been doing.'

“Well, maybe one other little thing,” I quickly replied.

"I thought there might be. You want to tell me what happened?"

Reluctantly and briefly, I described what had happened the day before.

"It sounds to me that we have a few things to talk about, don't you agree?" Ellen asked.

'Asking a question that they know the answer to, is almost as bad as ‘the look’. Especially when the answer condemns you to doing something that you really don't want to do.'

Slowly I nodded, but only once.

"I would have to agree. Shall we go talk with RJ?"

Horrified that Ellen would suggest such a thing, "You're not going to tell him about-"

"Jeffrey," she interrupted. "Of course I'm not going to tell him what we've been talking about. We do need to discuss this trip to England, though."

Ellen got up and walked as far as the last seat in the row. She patently waited for me, I was definitely not in a hurry-up mood.

"Smile, Jeffrey, things may seem gloomy for the moment, but I assure you, the sun will rise in the east come the morning’s dawn."

“I guess so. I’m going to miss the party, aren’t I?”

“Party, what party?”

“The party at American Girl Place, for years A and B, it’s still on isn’t it?”

“Everything that’s been happening to you and you’re still thinking of others. I’m going to have to have a long talk with your mother,” Ellen teasingly commented.

"A talk with my mother, why?"

"I’m just wondering if she has a secret to raising a child that cares more about others than themselves." Ellen paused for a moment, simply smiling. "About the party, yes, it's still on. As for you attending, I don't know, but I'll see what I can arrange. After all, you suffered several weeks of humiliation, to pay for the party; it would be a shame if you missed out."

"I guess it really wasn't quite as bad as I made it sound. But, don't ever let them ask me to do anything like this again. At least nothing that has anything to do with diapers."

"You have my word. Still, it was a very selfless act."

I didn't have an answer for that one; I just shrugged my shoulders as we walked on.

When we found RJ, he had a cell phone to one ear, while he was working with the ticket agent behind the counter with the other. I didn't think he had a free hand, but somehow he managed to wave us towards where Kimberley and Miss Adams were sitting.

"What's up?" I asked Kimberley, sitting next to her.

"Changing travel plans," she quietly replied.

"Is that good or bad?" I wondered aloud.

"That depends; if we have to spend the night in the terminal, trying to sleep in one of these chairs, it's bad. Anything else is good," Kimberley mumbled.

"Has that happened before?" I asked in surprise.

"We came close one time. The airline had overbooked the flight we were on by about twenty seats. They were asking for people to voluntarily wait for a later flight, which wouldn't be until the next morning. There was some quiet discussion about the two teams staying behind. Before it was decided, enough others volunteered that we didn't need to. Still, the thought of sleeping in these, uncomfortable things, they call chairs, wasn't pleasant."

RJ's approach was noticed and we all turned our attention to him, awaiting our fate.

"I feel like I’m facing a review board," RJ complained sarcastically, as he stood before the four of us. "OK, Ellen, what’s the verdict?"

"I'm afraid that Jeffrey and I need to spend more time together very soon," she calmly replied.

"That's what I expected; Jonathan told me that there Jeffrey had a problem yesterday. He didn’t give me any details, but I knew that you would want to spend some time with him. I'm just glad you were here, Ellen, saved me from having to learn all the details and then making the same decision. However, based on this information, I made some calls and some fast travel arrangements. After a lot of negotiations, I have good news and well ... more good news. First, I was able to re-book everything so we're all on the same flight."

"We're all going to London?" Miss Adams asked.

RJ shook his head, "Not quite, we're all going to Chicago."

"Chicago! Why Chicago?" Kimberley asked.

“Because, in three days time the school will be passing through Chicago. We will rejoin the school there, and then we'll enjoy a leisurely bus ride across the Rockies.”

“Why not fly to Toronto and meet up with the school there?” Miss Adams asked.

“With the concerts, and the sightseeing and the traveling, Ellen and Jeffery wouldn’t have any privacy. This way, they’ll have what ever time they need.”

“Whose idea was that?” Ellen asked.

“Mr. Black’s, actually. He said something about keeping a promise and not wanting to spend more time in your office being chewed out by, or because of a Munchkin.”

I was laughing. Ellen replied simply, “He’s learning.”

“What about your trip to Edinburgh?” I asked, after a few moments.

“It seems that someone still wants you to go with me, so the trip to Edinburgh will be rescheduled, when Ellen approves of you going, that is. Now, if there are no more questions, we have a plane to catch.”

With Ellen and RJ walking in front of me, and Jonathan and Miss Adams walking behind me, I had a very strange feeling. I almost felt like I was a prisoner being escorted to my execution, instead of a flight to Chicago.