”“I’m sorry ma’am. It’s my first time, you know.”“Don’t you realize that I would have had to print out a replacement sheet?”“I’m sorry ma’am. I’m sorry, Mister Headmaster.”“That I’m sure we can all agree on. Here are the papers back, Mrs. Thorne. Let’s hope that he doesn’t go and nervously piss on them. He-he.”After giving the distraught sixteen year-old a few disapproving shakes of her head in disgust she took the papers and started to exit the office. But something caught her eye right off. The cute little butt of the wimpy boy with the three tramline welts in their staggered state of early growth and festering.“If I may say so this is excellent work, Headmaster.”Kim heard her words as he felt her feminine fingers go to sliding lovingly along each of the three fiery welts.“Why thank you, Mrs. Thorne. How gracious of you to say so,” said the man as he rose and took up the cane again. “This one never tires of complements.”“Well it’s true and the truth never hurts.”“So true. Grant returned to the deck of the boat, and said, “Ensign Young, take us back downstream.”As the deep-throated sound of the diesel engines began to back away from the dock Grant stood at attention and saluted, for the last time, the man buried at the top of the hill. When the boat moved to where Grant could no longer see the hill he completed his salute and returned to the conning tower, where he could stand alone in his thoughts.Grant’s peace was interrupted a short time later by the intercom telling him he was wanted on the radio. He climbed down the ladder, closing the conning tower hatch behind him. Once inside the control room Grant picked up the headphones, and answered, “Grant.”“Captain, this is Ben McGraw. I tried to reach you earlier, but you were off the net.”“I’m sorry about that Commander, we had to go up the Potomac and we must have passed beyond radio range.”“Were you able to save General Washington?”“I’m afraid not. He died with me standing beside him. I found out,.
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