Follow Focus
8
In the State Department
ADRIENNE WOULD HAVE LAUGHED at me. I was wearing the same black suit I’d worn on my first visit to LA. The one from Goodwill. I was dressy compared to most of the guys in line. They didn’t exactly look seedy, but you wouldn’t think they were out of place in a soup kitchen line, either.
There were other black suits around, too, hurrying up the street to or from Union Station, late getting back from lunch, just off for a clandestine meeting with a mistress. Who knew what men in dark suits did in Chicago.
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders:
They tell me you are wicked and I believe them;
Unfortunately, that was all that came to mind from the Carl Sandburg poem we read in my Urban Images class.
I stopped at a coffee vendor on the corner across from the line and bought a cup of hot, black, and strong Chicago mud. This guy knew where to set up shop. It looked like a bunch of the guys were holding his paper cups. A little kid was walking up and down the line with a bag to collect the empties.
I glanced around, squared my shoulders, and started across the street.
“You fucking nigger-lover!” a voice shouted, coming at me fast. “I’ll get you this time!”
Twenty feet away, Clyde Warren was charging toward me, pulling a gun out of his jacket, and swinging it toward me.
Four guys in black suits were faster and shot before he got it aimed. Clyde Warren hit the pavement in the middle of Van Buren Street. It was the second time I’d seen cops kill a man. This time he really did have a gun. This time it was Feds and not Chicago’s finest.
I just stood there in the middle of the street shuddering. Unmarked police cars with flashing lights blocked the street from both ends. The guys in line for induction shrank back against the wall. More suits poured out of the office and showed ID as they kept the inductees in order. The line started moving faster, getting through the double doors at the corner of the building.
An arm wrapped around me from the side.
“You’re okay,” Agent Smith said. “You’re okay, buddy.”
“I’m okay,” I whispered.
Another black suit came out of the doors from the induction center and crossed to meet me.
“Are you all right, Nate?” he shouted.
“I’m okay,” I nodded.
“You don’t need to go into the induction center. I’ve got your paperwork taken care of. Let’s walk back toward the train station and replace your spilled coffee with a decent cup. The walk will do you good,” Mr. Martin said. “You no longer need him, do you, Agent?”
“He’s free to go,” Smith said. “Thanks for your help, Mr. Hart. We told you we wouldn’t let you get hurt.”
“Thank you, Agent Smith. Is my family safe now?”
“I don’t think there are any other dangers out here for you.”
I turned with Mr. Martin and sort of stumbled away with his arm still around my shoulders. The kid with a bag of used cups ran out to where I’d dropped mine and collected it.
“Welcome to the State Department, Nate. May the rest of your service with us be boring,” Martin said.
I was ready to accept that as a promise.
“You’re safe!” Ronda yelled when I walked into the office with Mr. Martin. She threw herself at me and hugged like she’d break my ribs.
“It’s over, honey. It’s over.”
“Don’t ever let them talk you into something like that again! I’ve been worried senseless since you got out of the car this morning.”
“They killed him. I never expected them to kill him. Why did they have to kill him?” I asked.
“He was going to kill you! He already killed the couple in the apartment fire. He arranged to get Tony drafted and sent to Vietnam. He deserved to die!”
“Maybe. I don’t think any of those guys were appointed to be the judge of that. There must have been another way.”
Mr. Martin led us to a conference room and we sat at a table waiting for things to happen. He gave us an official welcome speech and then left us in the hands of a human resources person. She explained our healthcare package and what a GS8 pay scale was. $200 per week. I figured I’d make as much from my summer in Stratford as I would from a year working in the Department.
“These jobs are rated GS8, so you’ll stay in that level for the duration of your work in that job,” she said. “There are increase levels within the General Schedule, though, so you don’t need to worry about having the same pay rate forever. There is an annual review and typically raises are given out at that point. In order to advance, you need to keep an eye on the job postings that appeal to you. You can apply for a new position after successfully completing two years of service.”
“I’m only here for one job,” I said.
“Oh, but once you become familiar with the government’s retirement package, you’ll change that tune. When you attach yourself to the government, you have security for life.”
Once we were fully indoctrinated, we were led to our office. It was nice that the two of us would share a space. The door was labeled, “Consulate Passport Technicians R. May and N. Hart.” Wow! Our names were already on the door. The HR woman told us where the office supplies were kept and who was on our support team. The phones on the desks had their direct extension displayed, but only the switchboard number. Ronda’s desk had a typewriter on it. Mine was bare. Well, I didn’t need an office for my job. I supposed something would come along that would necessitate it.
“This is Josie Wallis,” The HR person said. “She’ll go over office procedures and how to use her support.” Ms. HR left us in the hands of a middle-aged lady with glasses and hair tied up in a bun. She wore a gray suit. Ronda and I were both in black suits and I decided this would be standard dress for the office. When we walked through, I noticed all the men were in shirts and ties—most with jackets. The women wore knee-length or longer skirts and jackets. They had splashes of color in their blouses.
“Welcome to the State Department,” Josie said. She shoved the door closed after HR left. “Were you really in a gun battle on the way to work today?” she whispered.
“Um… Not exactly,” I said. “I was bait in a trap. Not something I will ever repeat.”
“Oh, it must have been exciting. The whole steno pool is talking about it. I’m so lucky to get assigned to you.”
“Uh… Miss Wallis, you have some information for us on how to do our jobs?” Ronda asked.
Josie turned as if just noticing she was in the room. She sighed a little.
“Yes, Miss May. Basically, anything you need, just pick up the phone and dial 413. That’s my extension. Now that I’ve met you, I’ll take care of supplying your office with the necessities. They just connected the phones and did the door this morning. Here’s the standard office setup. If you have other things you think you’ll need, just tell me. And I’ll get that typewriter removed. It seems they just assume that if a woman has a desk it needs a typewriter,” Josie said.
“Don’t rush that,” Ronda said. “It might be easier for me to type out schedules and flight plans than to try to write them legibly on a legal pad.”
Josie looked uncertain, as if she’d just been told she wasn’t needed. Ronda picked up on that right away.
“Of course, I’ll still need you to type up the final version and make sure the tickets are delivered and shipments are on track. We won’t be in the office most of the time, so you will be our lifeline here,” Ronda assured her. Josie seemed to relax.
“You’ll be traveling together?” she asked
“Most of the time,” I said. “We were hired as a team. As soon as we know the initial order of installations, we’ll be out of the office. Is there anything we need to know before we come in on Tuesday?”
Josie glanced at her watch.
“Yes, sir. We’re ruled by clocks. Even though this is a holiday weekend, no one leaves the office until 4:30. We arrive by 8:00 and have a half-hour lunch break, usually rotating so we aren’t all gone at once. You have to be a GS 12 before you can set your own hours. Since we have half an hour yet today, why don’t I show you where important things are, like the restroom and the coffee break room?”
We finally got a good tour of the office—at least on our floor. We didn’t really know what anyone in any of the offices did, but it looked like they were on the phone a lot. Some desks were cluttered and some looked unused. That’s what I expected mine to be, except I intended to bring in some camera equipment and do maintenance on it.
Finally, the clock touched 4:30 and we were nearly crushed in the rush of people getting out of the building—including Josie. Ronda and I went out the front door and Deke immediately opened a car door for us. I figured Tuesday we’d try riding in on the train. The El ran a few blocks from Jordan’s house and we’d get off just three blocks from the office.
As soon as I was settled in the car, I pulled my tie off.
“I didn’t plan on this. We should probably schedule a shopping trip for clothes sometime soon.”
“That will put me in a better mood,” Ronda said, giving my arm a squeeze. “I don’t suppose we’ll be able to do it before work on Tuesday. But Patricia is going to need some new maternity clothes, too. It will be fun.”
I personally didn’t think of shopping for clothes as being a particularly fun activity.
“Reckless endangerment is what I call it!” Jordan stormed when we came into the house. He grabbed my shoulders to look at me as if I’d been beaten by police again. Then he hugged Ronda. “They were supposed to apprehend him as soon as he was spotted. It was all supposed to be peaceful. Instead, they’re playing it off as a last-second rescue.”
“I thought it would be a peaceful arrest,” I sighed. “I sure didn’t expect him to come charging across the street waving his gun.”
“It was supposed to be a peaceful arrest.” Jordan poured three glasses of whiskey and handed Ronda and me each a glass. We toasted to our health and I savored the burn in my throat as I let the alcohol wash some of the tension away. I could feel tears that I’d bottled up all afternoon threating to burst from my eyes.
“They wouldn’t let me anyplace close,” Ronda said. “I didn’t know what had gone down until Nate and Mr. Martin walked into the lobby. It turns out the whole secretarial pool had scanners tuned in to listen to the takedown.”
“You know this means the whole civil suit is moot,” Jordan continued to fume. “The judge dismissed the board from the suit. Only Warren was still defending. Now there is no defendant. It wouldn’t have yielded much in the way of money, but at least the people of Hunter County would have gotten some closure. I’m willing to bet they set it up to kill him so he wouldn’t defend himself by claiming others were in cahoots with him.”
“Damn! That’s disgusting. Make sure there is no one left to be accountable.”
“Exactly.”
We sat to enjoy our drinks—or to drink away our upset. My stomach growled.
“I didn’t think you’d want to go out this evening. Nadia and Adele have been in the kitchen all afternoon. With luck, something edible will come of it,” Jordan snorted. “You need to make a statement to the press.”
“I can’t,” I said.
“What?”
“I’m employed by the United States Government. I cannot make statements to the press or anyone else, for that matter. If my boss got permission from his boss, we could feasibly draft a statement that would be reviewed by and softened by every person in the chain of command up to the president. If there was anything left in the statement, I’d sign it and send it to the press office. They would release it. I’m not a private citizen anymore.”
Jordan chuckled and then started laughing out loud.
“You got to hand it to those bastards. They covered everything quite nicely. All tied up with a little bow. And it will only cost you two years of your life.”
Nadia called us to the dinner table.
Dinner was good. It was the kind of simple food that we’d have at home, with a meatloaf, potatoes, and green beans. Totally unpretentious. I remembered the first time I came to the Marshes’ house for dinner with Beth and we had Cornish game hens. What a difference.
“Have some more, Nate,” Adele said pleasantly. “Nadia claims this is an old family recipe and it’s always been one of my favorites. She wouldn’t even let me watch her prepare it. I had to peel potatoes!”
“Well, the potatoes are quite good, too,” I said. Adele actually blushed.
“Nadia, the meatloaf is great,” Ronda said. “Don’t let Nate ignore your cooking to flatter Adele.”
“Thank you, Ronda. You know life is changing. There was a time when we wouldn’t have considered cooking for guests ourselves, but I don’t believe the availability of good and affordable domestic help can be sustained as inflation runs rampant. A household our size could afford a cook, a maid, and a driver in the fifties—as we had then. Now, we have a couple of girls who come in to clean twice a week and they cost more than the full-time help we had back then.”
“Everyone has to make a living,” I said. “I think the wage I’m getting at the State Department is higher than either of my parents have ever earned. And they’re expected to still maintain a healthy and happy home.”
“I don’t begrudge any of them a living wage,” Nadia said. “It’s just that we can’t afford it any longer. Jordan has put me on a budget. With two of us to support, even he has to watch his pennies.”
“Adele does a good job of contributing to the family maintenance,” Jordan said, reaching over to pat Adele’s hand. “We aren’t in the poorhouse. We’re just being a little more reserved in our habits. Probably should have tightened our belts ten years ago, but that wasn’t likely to happen with two teenage daughters.”
“Just wait until you have more children,” Nadia said. “You’ll discover the high wage you earn at the State Department won’t go as far when there’s another baby or two in your family.”
I almost choked and Ronda dipped her head to keep from looking at anyone.
“Oh, my God! You’re pregnant!” Adele exclaimed. “Congratulations, Ronda!”
“No! No, not at all. Not… um… me. I knew we should have had Anna and Patricia come back at the same time we did,” she sighed.
“Stop,” Jordan held up a hand to his women. “No guessing. No prying. When the family is all together, we will hear it from them. Whenever they are ready to tell us. Not until.”
“Yes, dear,” both Adele and Nadia said.
Of course, that would wait. Ronda and I drove up to our new house Saturday afternoon and waited for Anna, Patricia, and Toni to get there. Jordan had closed on the property Friday and it remained only for the papers to be drawn up among us to claim this house as our own. Jordan had already given us the key.
“It’s kind of funky outside,” Anna said. “I mean, not much of a looker from the curb.”
“Wait until you walk around the back,” I said, taking her hand.
“Water!” Toni screamed when we passed between the garage and the house to get to the back.
She took off almost as fast as we expected and Ronda was right with her to stop her before she got to the dock. We turned and looked at the house from the water side and it was a completely different experience than from the street. The green grass and huge deck with double doors opening into the living room just screamed that this was really the front door.
We didn’t bother going back to the street side to enter the house. It didn’t take long after getting inside to have Anna and Patricia completely sold on it. Yes, we might eventually want to update the appliances, but I don’t think they were ten years old yet. In fact, the house wasn’t ten years old yet. We could live here for a long time and not do anything. In addition to the open front plan of the living room, kitchen, and dining area, there were two bedrooms and a bath on the main floor. Upstairs there were two bedrooms and a bath as well. We’d have to figure out how the bedrooms would be allocated, but Toni had already claimed one of the upstairs bedrooms with windows overlooking the channel.
Anna and Patricia started talking immediately about what colors to paint the various rooms and what we would need to move in. I couldn’t help but think of our little quadrangle as two husbands and two wives. Ronda and I would need to go to work first thing Tuesday morning, leaving Anna and Patricia to make our home livable. I hoped we wouldn’t have to stay at the Marshes’ too long before we could move in.
It was a pretty straight two-and-a-half-hour drive to Tenbrook from our new home. One thing about this location was that we didn’t need to contend with most of the city traffic to get west. We even skirted around the north side of Rockford, missing all the traffic there. We pulled up with both vehicles in front of the Bergs’ house at six o’clock.
They were waiting with dinner for us and we’d no more than sat down at the table when Elise looked directly at Patricia and said, “When are you due?”
“I knew she’d know as soon as we walked in,” Patricia laughed. “The end of February. That’s why we all came out here this weekend instead of spending the weekend getting our new house ready to move into.”
That started multiple conversations at the same time with Elise wanting the details about Patricia’s progress and whether she had a doctor and had set up regular prenatal visits. Tor wanted all the details about our new house and volunteered to take a week and come out to help us get it ready to move into. Or at least to take a couple of days. It would be a wonder if we didn’t have all our parents descending on us at once.
After dinner, Toni stayed with her grandparents while the rest of us went to the hotel. It had gone through some further upgrades since the last time we’d stayed here, as there had been a lot of movie people in residence this summer.
Sunday, we picked up Toni in time to drive down to Sage for Mom’s Labor Day sermon.
We settled into a pew next to Dad and Toni immediately crawled into his lap. There were the usual announcements, prayers, and songs, then Mom called all the children to the front. Toni was a big girl now and it was her gamma inviting the kids to the front steps for a story, so she ran up the aisle and straight into Mom’s lap. From there on, things went sideways.
“Do any of you know what holiday we celebrate this weekend?” Mom asked the few kids. The church was rather sparsely attended on the holiday weekend.
“Labor Day,” one of the older kids said.
“That’s right,” Mom continued. “Labor Day. And what makes this day so special?”
“Mommy!” Toni exclaimed. “Mommy has baby sister in her tummy!”
One of Reverend Mother Superior’s favorite expressions of surprise was “I nearly dropped my teeth!” I could almost see it happening. Her mouth came open and she snapped it shut as the congregation started laughing.
“I’ll just bet that wasn’t how Mommy and Daddy planned to tell us,” she finally laughed. “That’s definitely something to celebrate.”
Somehow, she managed to get the topic back to Labor Day and even tied it into the scripture that “the worker deserves his wages.”
After the children’s story, Toni ran back to us and was good as gold through the rest of the service.
“That wasn’t the way we intended to tell you,” I said after church. There was a little restaurant in Sage and we all went there for Sunday dinner. Dad hadn’t felt up to making a big holiday dinner.
“It was a surprise in the moment,” Mom said, “but not a great surprise overall. Congratulations.”
Dad had sat through the rest of the service with Toni on his lap and an arm around Patricia.
“Another grandbaby for Gampa to spoil,” he said. “Oh, this is a good year. We have an empty nest, we’ve seen all our children, we have one who graduated from high school and one from college, and we have a new grandbaby on the way. God is good.”
“It’s good to see you in this kind of mood, Papa Rich,” Anna said. “You know Patricia is carrying our baby, but we are all her mothers and father.”
“Mom Anna,” Toni declared to punctuate the sentence. “Mom Ronna. Mommy. Daddy. Gamma. Gampa.” She singled out everyone and then turned back to Patricia and patted her tummy. “Sister!”
“I hope you don’t surprise her with a brother instead,” Dad laughed.
“I think there’s a chance,” Patricia said, “but Nate is determined.”
“Doesn’t make a difference,” I said. “Boy, girl, or wooly mammoth. She’s ours.”
“Now tell us about the new job,” Dad said. “Why on earth did they want you to start on Friday afternoon before a holiday weekend?”
That, of course, led to the showdown and death of Warren on Van Buren Street.
“I’ve tried to be charitable,” Dad said, “but it was a fate he asked for and deserved.”
“I’d pray for his soul,” Patricia said. “But that’s a Catholic thing and I’m a Methodist now. I’m sure someone else will pray.”
“Speaking of which, have you found a place to live and is there a church nearby?”
“Yes to both. We just bought a house in Antioch. It’s a little closer to here, I think. It is to Tenbrook, anyway. There’s a United Methodist Church downtown and the elementary school is about halfway between us and the church,” I said.
“You were able to buy another home?” Mom asked.
“When it comes down to it, paying the mortgage, insurance, taxes, and utilities is going to cost less than what we were paying for the apartment,” Anna said. “Nate and Ronda made a great decision and it’s a beautiful location right on the water.”
“You’re on a lake?” Dad asked.
“Sort of. It’s Channel Lake, but we’re really on a little canal that was cut inland from it. I suppose we could have a boat there without much problem. But it’s still a beautiful view,” Ronda said.
“Our children are all successful,” Mom sighed. “And here we sit alone.”
“Aw, Mom. Are you feeling lonely?”
“It hits me sometimes. We just got back from visiting Naomi in Germany and Kat is moved out and gone to Minnesota. You will be flying all over the world from Chicago. And Deborah is planning to move with John to Japan the first of the year. He still has some specialist training that he’s completing and then they are shipping out,” Mom said. “Suddenly, we do feel a little alone. Thank God for our church family.”
We had a Labor Day cookout with Ronda’s family and spent a bit of time with both Anna’s parents and the Kowalskis, so everyone got the news that Patricia was pregnant.
Then we headed back to Jordan and Nadia’s home in Chicago to tell them the good news and get ready for work on Tuesday.
We got to work on time at 8:00 and headed straight for our office. There was already a note on our desks asking for a meeting with Mr. Martin at ten. We never got to that meeting.
“Mr. Martin has been called to Washington,” Josie said, rushing into our office. “All meetings are cancelled. The whole office is on alert. Messages are coming in as fast as we can read and sort them.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Terrorists have kidnapped the Israeli athletes at the Munich Olympics,” Josie said. “They’re trying to get a bunch of terrorists released from prison. As if that’s going to happen. Israel doesn’t bargain with terrorists. At all.”
“What can we do?” I asked. “I mean, here in this office.”
“Nothing! That’s the whole problem. Everybody gets upset. The office goes on alert. One guy gets called to Washington. And there isn’t a f… anything we can do. Just give me a task so I can be busy. Please!”
I almost laughed at her, but the whole Munich thing was no laughing matter. There was always something going on between the Israelis and the Palestinians. This sure wouldn’t help anything.
“We need a map,” Ronda said, coming to the rescue. “A world map that will pretty much cover this whole wall. Then we need pins in the map with flags that name every embassy and consulate in the world. We might as well start plotting where we’re going first.”
“A big world map. Yeah. I know where we can get that. There’s a list of embassies in the s-pool. Pins and flags. Got it. I’m on my way.”
Josie was out of the office and down the hall in an instant.
“Now, what’s your strategy for delivering cameras and training people?” Ronda asked.
“Well, I think we should start by setting up a station here at the office and generating badges for everyone in the department. I noticed when we got here that people just walk in and punch the clock or go to their desks. We should get everyone in this office wearing a name badge, just like we did with the college.”
“We’re not an embassy.”
“No, but we need to know what we’re working with inside and out. We were told Polaroid is making a unit that is a slightly customized version of the ID3, specifically for our embassies and consulates. Any idea how many we’ve got?”
“Somewhere around 200. I’m hoping to get an exact count when we get our map set up with pins.”
“So, the spec on the new device, according to what I was told, differs in that it can be folded up and transported to a different location. Not portable like the old ID2 system that was point-and-shoot anywhere, but into a couple of suitcases. And it will laminate a larger size for the passport.”
“Does it do it right in the book?”
“No. We get one page that has the information typed on it, feed it into the machine, take the picture and it laminates the picture to the page. Then we set that page on the cover, put the interior pages on it and feed it through the stitcher. The stitcher binds the pages together and folds it, once again under high pressure and some heat. The passport cover resists bending and tearing, so the fold has to be done under heat and pressure.”
“Then we hand the passport over to the client,” Ronda concluded for me.
“After they sign it and it gets a State Department seal. Then they get it,” I said.
“How do you know that much?” She asked.
“It was in the handbook Mr. Martin sent us this summer. Didn’t you read it?”
“Give it to me!”
I reached in my satchel and handed her the passport handbook. I was sure she’d seen it this summer.
“Oh! I read this. Um… Well, I read the part about who could get a passport and what the different colors mean and documentation that has to be presented at the time of issuance. I guess I didn’t read the technical specs.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure that between the two of us, we read the whole manual. I know I skipped some of the front matter so I could get to how the system was supposed to work,” I said. “That was a brilliant idea about getting a map, by the way.”
“I figured we were going to need to keep track of where we still needed to go. And I couldn’t think of anything else to put Josie on. The poor woman looked like she was starving for something to do.”
“Speaking of which, let’s take a little stroll around the office and see if we can get a better idea of where things are and what gets done here.”
We walked out of our office and randomly turned right to make our way around the floor. It was a damned big building that covered an entire city block in length and about half a block in width. We were on the ninth floor. The first four floors were all court offices and hearing rooms. US District Court, US Bankruptcy Court, and US Court of Appeals were all located in the building and when the new Federal Office Building across the street was finished, everyone who wasn’t part of the court system or the US Marshals would be moved out and into the even bigger new Federal Building. The new Post Office would be next to it.
When it came down to it, the State Department didn’t occupy much of even this one floor. We’d been here to drop off our passport applications a couple of years ago, and it seemed that was the bulk of what happened here. It was a regional passport agency. We couldn’t enter the room where they were actually making passports. Most people now dropped their passport application off at the Post Office. The office here, however, was where the application was processed and printed. The only people who came to the Passport Agency were those who needed fast turn-around because they were traveling within a week or two. That end of the floor was really busy.
“It really seems like they could use the equipment here,” I said. “Everyone is bringing their photo with them, like Anna, Patricia, and I did a couple of years ago.”
“That kind of obviates the need for the instant camera system, doesn’t it?” Ronda asked.
“I guess so. The people here are just taking all the forms and information with the photo and putting it in the pipeline. I wonder how many of these places there are in the country.”
“I don’t think we’ll need to worry about them. Our responsibility is strictly foreign, I think.”
We completed our tour of the floor and stopped for a cup of coffee in the break room before getting back to our office. Josie was in the office with a worker who was installing a wall-size map for our use.
“Wow! That was fast.”
“Everybody wants to be doing something useful,” Josie said. “The stuff happening in Germany has absolutely nothing to do with anyone in this office, but a national emergency always makes people want to contribute something. I’ve made a copy of the consulate list. I realized you didn’t have any general office things here, so I’ve brought a box of supplies for your desks. I can type up the names of each location if you’d like me to. Then we can get them poked into the map where they belong.”
“That’s great, Josie. Let’s start with the Western Hemisphere. Canada, Mexico, Central and South America, and the Caribbean. I don’t think we’ll get to Europe or Africa for several months, so that will give us time to fill in the rest of the map a little at a time.”
“Yes, Miss May. I’ll get right on it.”
Josie left and the worker finished installing the map. Ronda sat opposite me with the book of locations.
“There are seven consulates and one embassy in Canada,” Ronda said. “We could get those done before the weather gets really bad.”
“That depends on whether the equipment is ready to ship. I wish Mr. Martin wasn’t delayed.”
Just then my phone rang and I answered.
“Hart.”
“It’s Don Martin,” the voice on the line said. “Sorry I’m not there to get you started today. I’ll be back in the morning. I want you to get started on something, though. You’re scheduled for training next week in Boston. Have Ronda talk to our travel consultant. Josie can direct her. She doesn’t need to travel with you on this one because it will only be training on the equipment, setup, and transportation. Have her make your travel arrangements. Have Josie get you both American Express cards. I’ll start working with Ronda when I get back on a strategy for our rollout.”
“Sounds good,” I said, scratching notes on my legal pad.
“I have to run now. It’s a shitstorm here and the boss hen wants her whole clutch of chicks gathered around her. Not a damn thing any of us can do, but we have to be here. Sometimes, that’s the way it is.”
“No problem, sir. We’re getting started on what we need for the strategy meeting. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good.” He hung up just like that.
I transferred the information over to Ronda and she went out to find Josie and get introduced to the travel consultant. I looked in my calendar book and found the phone number of George Taylor, the representative from Polaroid I’d met last year when this whole project got underway.
“Mr. Taylor, it’s Nate Hart from Chicago. We met at the symposium a year ago.”
“Of course, Nate. We’re expecting you here for training next week. How can I help you?”
“That’s what I wanted to touch base on. Everything here is kind of in chaos with the stuff going on in Germany. Do you have a schedule for me next week?”
“Terrible things going on. Terrible. At least the news says the hostages are all alive. Janet Alexander is going to be your contact next week and guide you through the schedule. Before I transfer you to her, though, I want to invite you to take a few pictures on an experimental prototype we have.”
“Sure. Anything particular?”
“We have a couple of people working on a new large format camera. We’ll have a studio setup and an assistant to work with you because the paper for it has to be treated just before it goes into the camera and then the developing process actually takes place in a separate unit. Supposedly that will change, but everything is cobbled together out of bits and scraps. It’s all pretty particular about how it’s treated. And we don’t know how it will do for portraits. That’s what I’d like you to try.”
“Okay. I don’t see a problem with that. How large a format are we talking?”
“Twenty by twenty-four,” Taylor said.
“Holy cow! That sounds amazing!”
“Well, let me transfer you to Janet for your schedule.”
A few seconds later I was talking to the woman who would become my principal contact at Polaroid. I wondered what that would mean in the long-term.
“This is Janet Alexander,” the pleasant voice on the line said.
“Miss Alexander, this is Nate Hart from… um… the State Department in Chicago. I understand you’ll be coordinating my training schedule at Polaroid next week.”
“Oh. Hello, Mr. Hart. I had expected an introductory call from Mr. Martin.”
“I’m sure you’re aware of the crisis in Germany at the Olympics. Mr. Martin is otherwise engaged. I hope we can work together,” I said.
“Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound stand-offish. Your call was just a surprise to me. What can I tell you about the schedule?” She had a Boston accent that took me a minute to tune into.
“Well, I’m new here at the State Department, and with Mr. Martin called to Washington this morning, I’m at a bit of a loss. I’m not even sure when I should arrive. Do we start first thing Monday morning?”
“Mr. Hart, I’m going to give you everything you need, so please forgive me for a moment while I lecture you on protocol. I am the Polaroid representative responsible for US Government contracts, so I had to go through training you have not yet had. Never volunteer information about where one of your co-workers is. In this case, telling me Mr. Martin is in Washington is benign, but someone else might take his location as a sign that the State Department is going to ban all travel from Palestine and cancel all visas.”
“Oh, my God. I had no idea.”
“Second day on the job, right? Let’s both just forget that was ever mentioned. On to the schedule, shall we?”
“Yes, please.”
“Monday mornings at Polaroid are often a bit chaotic. We do not have the same rigid work hours your department has. So, it would be a waste of time for you to arrive before noon. Let me suggest that you fly in on Monday morning and take a taxi to your hotel. I will pick you up there at noon and we’ll have lunch at Legal Seafood. We hope to make your visit here pleasant as well as informative.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Does the existence of a Legal Seafood imply an Illegal Seafood?”
“A story to save for your visit,” she laughed. “You’ll want to check with your travel arranger regarding lodging, but I know other government employees often stay at the Holiday Inn at Bunker Hill. Do let me know which hotel to pick you up at.”
“Is it better to have taxis and rides arranged than to rent a car?” I asked.
“Oh, Mr. Hart. You do not want to drive in Boston,” Janet laughed. “We are told the worst drivers in America are found in New York City. But they come here to train.”
“Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Alexander. I look forward to meeting you next week.”
“Please, after a friendly phone call, it’s appropriate to call me Janet. I’ll have your full training schedule telexed to you in the next half hour. You should have your secretary watch for it.”
“Thank you, Janet. And please call me Nate. I’m still not used to the whole government thing.”
“Very well, Nate. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“How was the first real day at work?” Nadia asked when we came in through the kitchen door.
“A little chaotic,” I said. “But we seem to have gotten a few things done.”
“Let me help, Nadia,” Ronda said, dumping her briefcase and purse on a chair.
“Nonsense, dear. You are still in your suit. Why don’t you both go up and change into something comfortable and join Jordan in the lounge. He’s watching the news and swearing at all the stations, but he’ll get you a drink.”
“Are Adele and our girls with him?”
“Oh, Adele will get home in half an hour. She often doesn’t get off work until six. I believe your girls are still upstairs getting cleaned up after their day as new homeowners.”
Ronda and I went upstairs and changed clothes, and kissed our girls. I carried Toni downstairs to dance a while as I joined Jordan. After our first real day on the job, I was happy to accept the drink he offered. He was happy to also take a break to dance with Toni a bit.
Of course, the news was dominated by the unfolding drama at the Olympics. Events were continuing as if no crisis had occurred, with Chris Schenkel covering the events. Jim McKay or Peter Jennings periodically broke in with reports from the hostage negotiations. Of course, everything they said at the time was delayed in the broadcast so the top sports would be ready for ABC Wide World of Sports broadcast in prime time.
Adele got home and we had dinner. It was a very comfortable family affair. The Marshes had accepted the news of Patricia’s pregnancy in about the same way our parents did. Jordan became her caretaker, serving her and helping her with Toni.
We hadn’t helped prepare the meal, but we were up and clearing the dishes before the Marshes could move. We got everything cleaned up and put away and the dishes all washed in about ten minutes.
Patricia and I took Toni upstairs so I could read to her and she could tell me all about her day and painting her bedroom.
“That’s why we were all up here getting cleaned up when you got home. There was paint in interesting places,” Patricia laughed.
“Didn’t get on clothes!” Toni reminded us. I guess it wouldn’t if you were painting nude.
Ronda came upstairs, and once Toni was in bed, she shooed me downstairs to watch TV with Jordan and Anna. She thought Jordan was trying to talk Anna into a job.
It was about 8:30 when Jim McKay, broke in with a live news break.
When I was a kid, my father used to say “Our greatest hopes and our worst fears are seldom realized.” Our worst fears have been realized tonight. They’ve now said that there were eleven hostages. Two were killed in their rooms yesterday morning, nine were killed at the airport tonight. They’re all gone.
Jordan switched off the TV and headed for bed. I put an arm around my weeping Anna and we climbed the stairs to take the news to Ronda and Patricia. What a hell of a way to end the day.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
