"Kimmie, Granda's on the phone!" Mrs. Dr. Possible called up to Kim's room.
"I'll be right there, Mom!" Kim called back. Granda was Kim's mom's mom, Grandmother Pierce, who lived in Maine. Kim back flipped down the stairs and grabbed the extension in the living room.
Mr. Dr. Possible looked up from his dog eared copy of Popular Mechanics. "Don't forget to tell Granda I've gone to Mars," he warned Kim.
"Yeah, whatever, Dad," Kim replied shortly.
"Relax, honey, I already told Mom you were in Beijing helping with their space program," Mrs. Dr. Possible said sweetly. "It's just a little more plausible than Mars."
"Oh. That's fine, thanks," Mr. Dr. Possible retreated back behind his magazine and muttered, "Whatever gets me out of going to any banquet where your father is the guest of honor." He didn't lower his voice enough and earned a nasty look from both his wife and his daughter.
Kim rolled her eyes as she picked up the receiver. "Hi, Granda, how are you?"
"Fine, honey," Granda croaked hoarsely.
"Um, you don't sound fine," Kim said uncertainly. "You sound like you're really sick."
"There speaks a young lady raised by three generations of doctors," Granda wheezed. "I just had to come down with this nasty bug, this week of all weeks."
"Oh, Granda, don't tell me you're gonna miss the AMA banquet too!" Kim wailed.
Granda sighed. "Believe me, it's not intentional - unlike some people."
"Caught on to Dad's excuse about going to Beijing, huh?" Kim said. Her father pretended to be engrossed in an article on steam engines. "Yeah, Ron bailed too."
What Ron Stoppable, Kim's very best friend since pre-K, actually said was, "NO WAY, Kim! UH-UH, NO WAY, absolutely NO! I would trust your granddad with my life if I hadda be operated on, but there is no way I will ever go anywhere near a dining room with him!"
"No way, uh-uh, nope!" Rufus, Ron's naked mole rat, agreed.
"Can you really blame him?" Granda asked. "Your granddad not only behaved disgracefully, he nearly started a riot!"
Kim felt obliged to defend her grandfather against the slings and arrows directed at him. "He had a point, Granda. That chicken bounced when Hawkeye threw it."
"Sweetie, Hawkeye is over seventy. That's a little old to indulge in a food fight," Granda insisted. "And the chicken bounced after it hit the head of Johns Hopkins in the face."
Kim couldn't help giggling. "Yeah, but the creamed spinach stuck." She got a mutual snicker from behind the issue of Popular Mechanics. "Now, I don't need you encouraging him," Granda cautioned, "not with your Uncle BJ and Uncle Trapper both flying in from California."
"Oh, wow! Uncle Beej is coming all the way from Mill Valley?" Kim asked. "And Uncle Trapper from San Francisco?"
"They're going to be at the banquet too? I haven't seen them in ages!" Mrs. Dr. Possible exclaimed in delight. "That's wonderful, isn't it, honey?
Mr. Dr. Possible hunched lower in his chair and glowered at his magazine. "Maybe I will see about booking that flight to Mars. It won't be safe on this planet!"
His sons' enthusiasm made up for his lack. "Hawkeye, Uncle Trapper and Uncle Beej all in the same room!" Tim whooped. "Icka bicka boo?"
"Boosha!" his twin Jim answered. "It's not every day we get a chance to learn from the masters! This AMA banquet's gonna rock!"
"It sure won't be boring," Tim agreed gleefully.
"I wonder if we've gotten around to sending any rockets to Pluto?" Mr. Dr. Possible groused. "I could stow away on one of them."
"Hold on there, Fly Boy!" Mrs. Dr. Possible snapped. "If you're not willing to face this banquet with Kimmie and me, you're staying home with the twins."
"Aw, MOM!" Jim and Tim chorused. "We wanna gooooo!"
"No, you don't! This will be a long drawn out meeting, followed by hospital food and then a lot of speeches. You'll be bored silly," their mother said firmly.
"Not if the Three Musketeers decide to liven things up," their father warned darkly. "It'll be triple trouble if the cafeteria at Mercy General decides to serve their infamous Chicken Florentine again."
"That'd be AWESOME!" Tim and Jim chorused. They slapped hands together.
Mrs. Dr. Possible glared at the assembled males in her family. "I'm sure they won't make the same mistake twice." Under all the background noise, Kim was still quietly conversing with Granda. "I'm really majorly disappointed in Ron. After all we've been through, he deserts me just because he got hit with the banana cream pie Hawkeye was aiming at Uncle Charles."
"What about your boyfriend? Your mother says you've been seeing someone new," Granda questioned her.
Kim made a face. "It's hardly dating when he's in England and I'm stuck out here in Middleton. I probably won't even get to see Harry until next summer."
"So, his name's Harry and he's English," Granda said. "And he's a nice boy?"
"He's golden," Kim sighed. "I wish you and Hawk could meet him."
"Plenty of time for that, dear," Granda murmured sympathetically. "After all, Kimmie, you just turned sixteen last week. Don't be in too big of a rush to grow up."
"I won't, Granda," Kim promised.
Granda's tone turned mock-stern. "But don't be thinking you can just refuse to grow up like your grandfather and his cohorts!"
Once again, Kim defended her granddad. "But Granda, you know that Hawkeye just clowns around like that to relieve stress. He takes being a doctor so seriously."
"Yes, dear, I know," Granda murmured. "But sometimes I wish he didn't take his clowning so seriously too."
"I told you if you didn't behave I'd come back and kick your butt!"
Radar O'Reilly nearly dropped the bag of sheep feed he was carrying. "Holy cow! Holy - It - it's you! Colonel Blake! Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake!"
Henry Blake glowered at his former company clerk from under his oversized fedora. "You were perhaps expecting Harry Truman?" He stood there on the path from the silo, dressed exactly as he had been the last time Radar had seen him, down to his wingtips.
"But - but - but you're dead!" Radar spluttered. "Your plane was shot down over the Sea of Japan fifty years ago! What are you doin' here in Iowa?"
"I already told you why I'm here!" Blake huffed, "Why aren't you going to that banquet?" Radar gasped and paled. "Wha - what banquet?"
"The AMA banquet honoring the Small Town Doctor of the Twentieth Century, Benjamin Franklin Pierce. Hawkeye. One of your closest pals, Radar," Henry told him.
Radar sat down right on the ground, still hugging the bag of sheep chow to his chest. "I don't believe this! How'd you find our about that?"
"I'm only dead, not blind and deaf," Henry jeered. "You told Em Possible you couldn't go because you had to sit up with a sick kid. Why?"
"Well, I got lotsa kids here an' ya never know when one'll get sick," Radar muttered defensively. "What's the big deal anyway? I'm not a doctor - I'm a cheese maker. This is a free range dairy farm, not a hospital. Those guys don't want me there!"
"Then for cryin' out loud, why did Emily call and invite you?" Henry persisted.
"Geez, I dunno! Just to be nice, I guess," Radar muttered. "She calls on my birthday and makes me come to Middleton for Christmas."
Henry drew himself up and insisted. "There, you see - you're practically one of the family. Hawkeye is your friend. Call his daughter back and tell her you'll be there."
"What?" Radar shoved the bag of feed aside and sprang to his feet. "I don't wanna fly all the way to Boston, rent a car, rent a tux, and get a hotel room just so I can get caught in the middle of a huge food fight!"
Henry nodded. "Is that what happened last year?"
Radar pushed his feed cap back and mopped his forehead. "Remember the time the mess hall kept serving all that liver and fish and Hawkeye started a riot?"
"Yeah, of course," Henry answered "So?"
"This was a whole lot worse!" Radar affirmed. He rolled his eyes. "A lot a lot worse!"
Blake crossed his arms over his pin-striped chest. "Will you go if Father Mulcahy's there?"
Radar shook his head. "He woulda got hit with a cheesecake if Kim hadn't saved him. Besides, I heard Trapper and BJ are comin' this year. Nope, no way."
"What if I'm there with you?" Henry inquired.
Radar's eyes widened. "You can't go!" he squealed. "Aw, man, that'll really start a panic! You - you're a ghost!"
"Well, if I'm dead, it only stands to reason that I'm a ghost!" Henry replied. "You can't be a ghost and not be dead, y'know."
Radar closed his eyes and began backing away. "I'm gonna go see if I can't wake me up before I have any more crazy nightmares," he announced. He turned on his heel and started to walk away.
The bag of sheep chow gave a little hop, then it slid over and stopped short right in front of Radar. He tripped over it and went sprawling in the dirt. "Hey!" Radar squawked. "How - what'd ya do that for?" He groped for his glasses.
"Over to your right. We're not through talking, Radar," Henry told him. "No, your right! Now whether you wanna go or not, I need you at that banquet."
Radar finally retrieved his glasses and jammed them back on. He squinted skeptically at the shimmering form of his former CO. "How come?"
"I - can't tell you," Blake admitted. "It has to do with the future."
Radar's mouth hung open for a bit. "Oh, oh, wow, can you guys see into the future?"
"Just a peek," Henry said smugly. He waited a few tantalizing moments before he continued. "You don't wanna look too far ahead, see, cause sometimes things aren't so hot. And then after you've seen it ya still gotta live it, right? That is, unless you're dead.-"
"Uh, I guess," Radar said doubtfully.
Blake continued as if Radar hadn't spoken. "I know it's not an exact science. Everything's not always gonna be comin' up roses. But from what I can see, Kim and Harry are gonna be just sam-fran-tastic. They're good kids, Radar."
"Uh, yeah, sure if you say so." Three beats went by before Radar blurted, "Kim and Harry who?"
Fortunately for Ednafresh Dairy, Cousin Wendell was able to take time off and come to Ottumwa to look after it. Radar resentfully packed a bag, drove to Des Moines and got on a plane to Boston.
He felt a little better when Kim Possible and Father Mulcahy met him at Logan. "Good to see you again, Radar," Mulcahy said cheerfully. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate that wonderful cheese you sent for Christmas."
"Aw, it was nothin'," Radar muttered. "Glad you liked it, Father."
"It was so good, I had to finish it by Mardi Gras. Otherwise I would've had to give it up for Lent," the priest continued with a twinkle in his eye. "Your cows and goats must be very happy animals indeed."
Radar blushed. "Well, I don't keep 'em shut up in little pens, ya see. They're free range so they roam around and eat grass an' other stuff that's good for 'em. That's how come the cheese tastes better. I just got some sheep too, so I can try and make some pecorino Romano to go with our caprino and vacchino types."
Father Mulcahy nodded. "I'm glad the farm is doing so well." He clapped Radar on the back. "Come along and we'll retrieve your luggage."
Radar clutched his carry-on tightly. "Uh, no, Father, this is all I got." "Oh, well, then we'll see if we can't locate where we parked the car," Father Mulcahy said. "I'm relying on you for that, Kim. Your memory is a lot younger."
"Don't worry, Father, I can find it," Kim replied confidently. She took Radar's arm and gave it a squeeze. "I'm so glad you changed your mind, Uncle Radar. It'll be a lot more fun with you here. You can be my date for the banquet."
"Yeah, sure," Radar agreed. "What about whatsisname? Why isn't he your date?"
"Ron? He and Rufus bailed," Kim said. "He's not really a date anyway. Just a friend."
"Oh. No, I meant the other whatsisname, the one you're seriously going out with." Radar thought a second. "The one that's not related to the Colonel."
Kim raised an eyebrow. "You mean Harry Potter?"
Radar nodded. "Yeah, him."
"I hope he's a nice boy if you're seeing him regularly, Kim," Father Mulcahy put in.
Kim sighed. "I think he's about the nicest boy that ever existed. But we aren't seeing each other regularly."
"Oh? And why is that?" the good Father inquired gently.
"He lives all the way over in England," Kim explained. "I met him last summer when I was in Devon on assignment for Global Justice. Since then we've seen each other a couple of times but school is about to start and I probably won't catch him again until next summer." She sighed again.
Father Mulcahy patted her shoulder. "I shouldn't worry about it too much. After all, you're young and there's plenty of time. If he's the right one, he'll be there."
"I guess," Kim murmured.
Radar cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, sure. Everything's not always gonna be comin' up roses, ya know. But you're gonna be just sam-fran-tastic."
Kim's eyes widened and she smiled at her favorite "uncle". "Do you really think so?"
"Heck, I know so!" Radar returned. He was the only one that saw Henry Blake floating near the front doors. Henry winked and then slowly dissolved into thin air
"Radar, I'm impressed," Father Mulcahy told him. "That really is quite profound,"
"Is it? Oh, oh, yeah, profound," Radar said proudly.
There was a minute of silence. "I see the car over there," Kim announced. She raced ahead of her escorts slightly.
"Uh, Father?" Radar whispered. "Exactly what does that mean - profound?"