Waiting at the Bluebird - Cover

Waiting at the Bluebird

Copyright© 2015 Forest Hunter. All rights reserved

Chapter 23

Cal looked at his watch as the private jet touched down at LaGuardia Airport. It was almost one in the afternoon. They taxied for a few minutes and then veered into a private hangar that was far from the main terminal building. There was a large, black livery car waiting for them. As the engines on the jet wound down, Cal found himself sliding into the back seat of the car with Kondo by his side.

The driver shut Cal’s passenger door and then got into the driver’s seat right away and they were headed for the airport exit. Kondo sat beside Cal, saying nothing, his face expressionless. Cal reached for his cell phone.

When Roxie gave Cal her phone number he put it into his cell phone memory. It was a lucky break. He pressed “Send” and her number was ringing. It didn’t surprise him that she didn’t pick up. She could have been working a shift at the diner. But he wanted leave a message for her.

“It’s the least I could do when I’m about to stand her up for our first date.”

Of course, there was a slim chance that he could have his meeting with Mr. Tanaka and then get back to Appleton in time—but the odds were against it.

“What time do you plan to take me back to Appleton?” he asked Kondo, who was looking out the window on his own side.

Kondo didn’t answer. Cal expected Roxie’s voicemail to kick in after four rings, but it did not. Cal ended the call.

Cal raised his voice.

“I asked you when am I going to get back to Appleton?” he asked again

Kondo turned his head toward Cal.

“I don’t know,” he said with a deadpan expression on his face that told Cal not to bother to ask again.

Cal redialed Roxie’s number.

“Come on, Roxie, pick up,” Cal said, but then he knew he was only speaking to the phone.

Kondo turned his head to look at Cal when as he was talking to the phone. To Cal, it appeared to be a look of derision, or consternation. He couldn’t quite tell.

“You know, you tricked me into coming here on short notice. You’re creating a lot of trouble for me.”

“Mr. Tanaka is very important. He is very busy. He wishes to speak with you. You should be honored.”

Kondo’s words made Cal remember how hard he’d worked to satisfy Mr. Tanaka during the past few months. He began to tell Kondo that, but stopped himself.

“Maybe I should feel honored,” he said to himself. “Perhaps the people in this world who make big things happen should be honored.”

So, he kept his silence while he tried to sort the whole thing out. The skyline of Manhattan was coming into view. Cal took a deep breath.

“This is the major leagues!”

He turned his attention to the Annex Project, which was sure to be the topic of his meeting with Mr. Tanaka. Perhaps it would be the right time to explain to Mr. Tanaka why he would have to do without the waiver.

On a Saturday afternoon the traffic out of LaGuardia was on the light side. The car sped along. They were on the Queensboro Bridge heading across the river to Midtown. Cal had never been to the City. He was impressed. After crossing the bridge the car entered a maze of streets. Finally, it made a left and there was a row of apartment buildings on Cal’s left and a large park on his right. Cal saw a street sign.

“So, this is Park Avenue.”

The driver stopped in front of a nice-looking apartment building and Cal saw a doorman who descended a flight of steps to the curb and opened the car door. Cal stepped out and the doorman closed the door behind him. Kondo had climbed out of the opposite door on his own. He was already speaking to the doorman in a low voice that Cal could not hear.

As Cal stood on the sidewalk he took the opportunity to have a look around. What he envisioned of New York City was quite different from what he saw. It was a pleasant surprise.

Cal always thought that it was a place where millions of people were squeezed together in tenements and there was nothing on the ground but concrete and asphalt. A fight could break out at any second and vulgar people would shout obscenities over the din of blaring car horns.

His surroundings were more similar to what he might have expected in Appleton—only nicer. There was a large park across the street. There were a few pedestrians on the sidewalk who minded their own business. The apartment building that he assumed that he was about to enter was far more upscale than anything in Appleton.

“Maybe they’ve got something here” was all that he could think.

At that moment he felt a push at his elbow. It was Kondo urging him forward.

“Go this way, please,” his guide ordered.

They were marching up the steps and through the double glass set of doors and stepping into an elevator. Kondo pushed a button and the number eighteen lit up.

Cal didn’t care for Kondo’s tug at his elbow.

“In Appleton people just speak; they don’t push.”

Cal kept his objection to himself, and in a way he was thankful that Kondo had irritated him because he was reminded by it that he had to focus on the business at hand. Tanaka couldn’t have brought him all the way from Appleton for small talk. This could be the big moment. He told himself that he had to be sharp.

The elevator doors opened and Kondo led the way a short distance down a lush, carpeted hallway. He stopped at a door and produced a key and opened the door.

“This way,” he said to Cal as he extended an arm. “Please sit and wait for Mr. Tanaka.”

Kondo disappeared through a door at one end of the room.

As Cal surveyed what appeared to be a luxurious living room he decided to have a look around, rather than find a chair. As he waited for Mr. Tanaka to appear he saw that there was a lot of very nice furniture and long table with a glass top alongside a large picture window. He took a look out at the outside view and saw the park below. From the eighteenth floor he could see that it extended to his right and left for a long distance and there was an observatory not far away.

“That must be Central Park.”

He thought it was, anyway—well, what else could it be? He tried to see if he could spot the Empire State Building, but it was not to be.

“May I bring you something?” a young oriental woman asked him.

Cal hadn’t seen her come in the room. He looked at her—she was quite beautiful and dressed in a long, silk, purple and teal gown, which Cal thought might be a kimono. He had seen a few when he was stationed in Hawaii when he was in the Army.

“May I bring you something?” she repeated when Cal didn’t answer. “Coffee, tea—perhaps something stronger?”

Cal was thinking that he would like a beer, but it seemed such a common thing to ask for in such a place. He cleared his throat.

“Do you have iced tea?”

“Yes, of course,” the young woman answered, and she smiled as though Cal’s request had pleased her.

She bowed and turned and began walking toward a door at the far end of the room.

“No sugar, please,” Cal called after her.

Her tiny steps came to an abrupt halt. She pivoted around to face Cal. She smiled and then bowed from the waist.

“As you wish,” she warbled.

As she turned again and left the room Cal found himself thinking of Roxie and their soon-to-be-broken date.

“Let me try her again,” he said out loud.

He heard her number connect and ring. He let it go a half-dozen times.

“Doesn’t she have voicemail?”

As he was hanging up Mr. Tanaka walked in the room.

“Mr. Tucker,” he said as he came through the door, “I hope that you have not been waiting long.”

Tanaka strode toward where Cal was standing and stopped a few feet away and bowed slightly from the waist. Cal extended his hand to shake hands, but then drew his hand back and bowed in return.

“I appreciate your effort to adapt to our customs, but I know that it is not your own,” he said in a pleasant voice.

Tanaka extended his hand and the two men shook hands.

“Did you enjoy you flight from Syracuse?” Tanaka asked.

Cal took a deep breath.

“Actually, Mr. Tanaka...”

“Yes, yes,” Tanaka replied. “Kondo told me that you hadn’t expected to be called away.”

“That’s true, sir,” Cal answered. “I would have been happy to meet with you at any time or place if only you had told me in advance.”

Tanaka shrugged and then lifted his hands with his palms turned upwards.

“This is an apartment that my company keeps that our executives use when they are visiting the States,” Tanaka explained.

“It’s ... it’s very nice,” Cal replied. “But, I hope you will excuse me for mentioning the stress that this trip has brought to my personal life.”

“It’s somewhat decadent, an unnecessary expense, in my view,” Tanaka went on, as though he hadn’t heard Cal’s complaint, “but we have maintained it for quite a few years, so I accept it as necessary. There are some conveniences, of course.”

At that moment the young woman reappeared carrying a tray with two large tumblers of iced tea with dishes containing mint leaves and wedges of lemon and set them on the glass table top.

“Hiroko told me that you requested iced tea—an excellent choice. I decided to have the same.”

Tanaka motioned to the table.

“This trip has been difficult for my family life, too,” Tanaka said as they walked to the table.

Cal looked at the older man, trying to figure out if Tanaka had rebuffed him or acknowledged his vexation. As he analyzed the question Tanaka put his hand on Cal’s shoulder with one hand and patted him on the back with the other.

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