Next morning, I’m up before 5 am, rudely awoken by my colon, surprise surprise. Nevertheless, I’m dressed and ready before 6, glad my new clients are at least awake.
“Good morning.” I say to Aria and Sonata. “Adagio getting ready?”
“Yeah.” Sonata responds.
“Alrighty.” I say as I head for the kitchen.
Enjoying a quick drink of water, I wait for the other three to get ready.
“Why dressed so early darling?” Rarity asks half asleep.
“Their appointment at the embassy is at 8, so we have to leave before 7 to beat rush hour.”
“Okay.”
“You know, your Rolls Royce only has room for four, huh?”
“Sadly.”
“Darn. Well, do you want to go to Disneyland Paris? It’s literally right there, and I can meet you after we’re done.”
“No, no. I’m not going to go without you. Especially alone.“
“You’re just going to stay here then?”
“I suppose. I can get another couple hours of sleep.”
“Ok. I’ll come back here then.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” Adagio says after she emerges ready with the other two. And with that, Rarity heads back to the bedroom, I head for the garage, the other three get in behind me, and we head for Paris.
Glad I took the extra liters of petrol, I keep my foot down, especially because as we meet the Seine, it gets characteristically slow. Glad that the left lane and my right foot were useful, I now blend in with the flow to make use of the wiggle room I created.
Soon, we reach Place de la Concorde, within a stone’s throw of the US embassy. Wishing them “bonne chance,” (good luck), I head for a pleasure cruise back to Marne-la-Vallée.
When I return to mon château, Rarity is dressed in travel casual, and totally rocking it too!
“You look comfortable. Did you want to leave today?”
“No no. If we’re going to leave, then we’ll take those girls with us. You ought to keep your promises. ‘Tis the proper thing to do.”
“You know, I feel like I out-Europe’d you this entire trip.”
“Ah ha ha.” She chuckles with a wide open mouth, obviously meant to convey sarcasm. “I’m just glad I can share my inner Europhile with someone who appreciates it just as much as me. Not that my friends don’t, but someone who understands it, you know?”
“Well, I owe most of my European thing to my many hours of entertainment derived from British television.”
“Yes, that would explain your abrasiveness that makes steel wool jealous.”
“I pride myself on it. Now, let’s talk about your feelings for me.”
“Not even gonna Sugarcoat it are you?”
“No, because I want to know if I was right. Do you still want me?”
“Not as much as before, but I still really like you.”
“Thank you for your Candor.” I smile mostly smugly having been proven correct. “Do you still want to go to Disneyland Paris?”
“No, no. that’s okay. If those dazzle girls want to leave when they get back, we can do that. I think I’m starting to get nervous for my business.”
“Spoken like my mother. Never able to handle more than 4 or 5 days on a vacation. Putting real life on pause for that long a time, you know?”
“Exactly. We’ve been gone for almost a week now, and that’s how I’m feeling right now.”
“Well, hopefully everything works out.”
After about twenty minutes of light cuddling, and by that I mean laying on each other on the couch while I keep track of time, I head out, hoping that I haven’t kept them waiting for too long.
When I arrive at the embassy, the girls aren’t anywhere around, so I take a few laps of Place de la Concorde before finding them waiting in front of the place where I expected them to be.
“Our visas are approved.” Adagio says almost flatly, trying to conceal inner excitement.
“Congratulations!” I respond as they put their seat belts on. “I hope you’ll find America a good place to start anew.“
“You’ve been such a tremendous help to us.” Sonata calls from the backseat.
“I was just doing what I had to do. I should be thanking you for not stabbing me in the back.”
“You not treating us like human scum was our leap of faith. We really should be thanking you for taking us in like that.” Adagio responds rather bluntly.
“You seem like nice women. I’m a nice guy.”
“And we’re glad we ran into you.” Sonata adds cheerfully.
“Likewise. Do you want to leave for the US tonight? Rarity needs to head home.”
“Sure. We’ve got no other business being here.” Adagio responds.
“And no reason to stay.” Aria adds.
Knowing they’re hiding something, I decide not to pursue it further by ending with, “oh alright then. Do you want to ship your van too?”
“We do have some nice memories in it.” Sonata says rhetorically.
“But we may not be able to drive it in the States.” Aria responds. “I doubt it’s street legal there.”
“Why would you want to live in your van? I have a bunch of holiday houses I never use. I can just let you stay at one of them. Saves on VAT, with actual residents there.”
“That’s not what VAT is.” Aria responds. “Do they even have VAT in the US?”
“Sales tax, but not VAT explicitly.”
Aria shrugs in response.
“I think you should take it. A reminder of where you came from and consequently what you have to look forward to. Plus, having a European number plate is like a big thing in the states. I can’t quite figure out why.”
“Even though it is technically a legal document and government property.”
“Just declare them lost, I guess?”
“We’ll take it then.” Adagio says almost hesitantly. “It has all our stuff in it anyway. We can’t just dump it.”
“See?” I quip.
When we get back to Marne-la-Vallée, I tell Rarity to “start packing. They got approved. They are legal aliens in the states under a work visa.”
“That’s brilliant.” She responds in a faux (by Rarity standards) accent. “Will they be staying with me?”
“No. I’m gonna house them while they find work.”
“Okay.”
“We’re pre-clearing in Shannon. We might meet Speedbird 1 in Ireland.”
“How much petrol do you have?”
“Quarter tank.” Adagio calls after starting.
“Can that get you into Paris?”
“Definitely.”
When we arrive at Le Bourget’s FBO, Rarity speaks to the attendant in French on our behalf. I figured she’d speak French, but whereas my English is much more commonwealth than hers, her French is proper French, meaning mine sounds tres Canadien, but in a graceful Toronto rather than a Québécois, if that.
Nevertheless, after I inspect their van and find the make and model, a Ford Transit, I ask petrol or diesel, to which Aria dryly groans out, “petrol. Diesel is demon soot.”
“Hey, I like diesel. It’s how this baby can fly.” I say, earning only a shrug from Aria. “Oh, not that I don’t trust you, but I do need to see your visas so I can verify your legal identity for the purposes of our manifest.”
“Of course.” Adagio says in a sultry voice, which raises my eyebrows in surprise.
Each of their paper visas reveals me their dates and places of birth, legal name, and dates of issuance and expiration along with the stipulation that these are non-agricultural visas, meaning they can’t find farm work. Too bad for the Apple family.
In any case, since their van is quite a bit heavier than the Rolls, I load accordingly and get the three of them onboard, I do my preflight, noting my fuel reserves when we reach Shannon. I’ll probably just top off there.
“Rarity 4, fly heading 280, maintain 4,000. Runway 3, cleared for takeoff.”
“Cleared for takeoff, runway 3, Rarity 4.”
80 knots.
V1
Rotate.
V2
Positive rate, gear up.
Flaps up.
“Rarity 4, contact departure.”
“Switching, Rarity 4, au revoir.” “Paris departure, Rarity 4 off Le Bourget, approaching 4,000.”
“Rarity 4, Paris departure, bonjour. Climb and maintain FL140.”
“140, Rarity 4.”
“Rarity 4, cleared direct Exeter.”
“Direct Exeter, Rarity 4.”
“Welcome back, Miss Rarity and Mr. Scimitar. Ms. Dazzle, Ms. Blaze, and Ms. Dusk, congratulations, you are officially recognized as legal migrant workers of the United States of America.”
“We’re off!” Sonata shouts as I close the cabin door behind us.
“On the road to…” Aria adds.
“Citizenship?” Adagio finishes.
“Well, permanent residency. You’re off, on the road to green cards. Once I get you home, I can get you set up with an immigration attorney who will walk through all the steps. It’ll take quite a few years, plus any citizen applicants must be green card holders for at least 5 years, so I’m warning you now, it’s not gonna be easy.”
Adagio looks at her two sisters and they all smile and nod at each other. She then turns to me and says,