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Mike's own military service had been in the Army, and he had been an army radio operator during the war in Vietnam. Basically he said it was his job to sit in the copilot's seat of a helicopter and watch for enemy troop movements, and then radio the coordinates in to a gun battery, either at a fire station, or a Navy battleship. A few minutes later, Boom! Things started getting blown up. Really, he said, he spent most of his time trying to figure out how to avoid getting shot out of the air. He seemed like such a calm, quiet fellow it was hard to imagine him in a situation like that, yelling into the radio to be heard over the sound of the helicopter and the gunfire. Mr. Giannelli and Grandpa seemed to hit it off, chatting for a bit about South East Asia and the South Pacific.We were ordering our dinners, when I heard the bells on the front door tinkle followed by a distinctive laugh that could have only been Arden Anderson. Arden had a distinctive laugh that sounded like what I. Like the whole world should seem different. I looked around the house; it looked the same. I looked at the mirror in the alcove by the front door. My hair was a mess. Other than that, I looked the same.No letter A stamped on my breast. No smiley face stamped on my forehead either.Now what?Well, first order of business: change my underwear. Definitely.I mowed the lawn. It wouldn't be good to have it too unruly when my parents got back.I drew a cold bath, added bubble-gum scented bubbles, and settled in with the new James Patterson book.I stayed in the bath until my skin started to wrinkle.I got out, dried myself off, and wrapped myself in a big blue towel, and wrapped my hair in a red towel. I stood in front of my dresser trying to decide what to wear.I decided on a white tank top and white jean shorts. Yeah, it was probably too much virginal white considering last night, but hey, it's summer. I put a thin red belt through the loops of the shorts to add some color. There.Now what?Oh..
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