Class of '59 (American Journey Book 4) by John A. Heldt Page A

seven-layer cake. She and her sister had, in fact, lived in Germany, but they had moved to the South when Mary Beth was still in preschool and Piper was still in diapers.
    "Are you acting as Piper's guardian?" Raines asked.
    "I am," Mary Beth said. "My father asked me to look after her even though she is already eighteen years old. He wrote a letter authorizing me to act as her representative in any legal, financial, and educational matters. Would you like to see it?"
    "Yes. I would."
    Mary Beth retrieved an envelope from her purse and pulled out a tri-folded letter. She straightened the letter, written on Army stationery, and handed the document to the principal.
    Piper fidgeted in her chair as Raines read the letter. She wondered if he was the kind of man who would summon law enforcement if he suspected that the sisters were pulling a fast one. She relaxed when she saw the administrator smile and return the letter to Mary Beth.
    "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,"