Gordy's Problem
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2010 by Peter H. Salus

I sat in the car for a few minutes. I really didn't want to go back to the office. I thought about the two books by Mountford with paintings by Roberts. Perhaps I could get them for Patrick. I looked up the number of Muir in Nedlands and called. No, they had neither. They suggested Serendipity. I called them to no avail, though the clerk there suggested Bonnie Doon and supplied the number. I spoke to a cheery woman there who said they had two of the three books. Unfortunately, one was First Sunrise. But I arranged to have The Dreamtime sent directly to "Mr. Patrick S. Hollister" and gave her a charge card number. He'd have it for the weekend. I felt much better and returned to the office.

There, I made several copies of the letter from the Ministry, faxed it and my (signed) response to Sue, put one of each into an envelope for Rob and another set for my parents. I faxed my response to Janice in Canberra.

Mona was in a state: She didn't understand that "no, thanks" was possible. Maybe it wasn't. There were no choices in the military — you relocated when and where they wanted you to. Was the CSIRO [Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation] like the military? People in The Alice and up in Darwin had been there for a decade or more. Why would they want to move me? Had I screwed things up? Were there complaints? The folks at SciTech seemed happy as did Chaz' group in Floreat. The last gripe there had been Watkins. And both the Alice and Darwin were doing their bit without a grumble. The University? Channel 7? The wine growers? The developers up in Geraldton? But that had been Chaz, not me. Strange, as Sue had said.

Mona went off to lunch. I'd been musing for an hour.

The phone rang. It was Sue.

"I've read your faxes. It does seem they want you back in the Capital Territory. I haven't heard anything bad — no evil rumours about you. Maybe you're too good."

"What?"

"You don't go over budget. Your staff is placid. The military likes you. The police seem to like you. You've done good for the University. Our audiences love you. Politicians hate folks like you."

"Don't be foolish!"

"I'm not foolish. I'd bet that someone in the Ministry or at Black Mountain fears that you aspire to higher station — as the morons put it."

"Oh, God! Can I convince them I don't? That I'm happy as Director for Western Australia and the Northern Territory?"

"If I'm right, probably not. But we'll see what the response is. Hang tight. My best to Weena."

"Right. Thanks."

I stared at the wall map. Mona put her head in the door.

"Have you had lunch?"

"Guess not. I'll get something from the cart." I did. Then I tried reading a journal. After a while I realized that I was still looking at the same page. I was doing no good.

"Mona?"

"You shrieked?"

"Am I at SciTech tomorrow?"

"Only in the morning. You said you'd be back here after lunch."

"Right. I'd forgotten."

"And you should look at those quarterly reports."

"Oh. Right. Where did I put them?"

"On my desk."

"Okay. Put them on mine while I'm out tomorrow. I'll read them in the afternoon."

"I'm going to take some moths with me. Maybe the kids will be interested."

I took a box from the shelf and hit an invisible switch. The phone rang. Mona buzzed me. "It's Chaz," she reported. I put down the box.

"Hollister."

"Gordy, I was wondering whether you could go through the resumes with me?"

"Resumes?"

"For a part-timer on the chick peas project and for a post-doc in sustainable ecosystems."

"Right. I remember."

"How about after lunch on Friday?"

"Sure. Lots of paper?"

"Only three for chick peas; nearly a dozen post-docs."

"Okay. I'll call you Friday morning." I put down the phone, picked up the box and a copy of the new CSIRO book on Australian moths and went next door.

"He wants to go over the resumes for the two jobs that were advertised. Block out Friday after 11:30."

"Don't forget you've a 10 o'clock dental appointment."

"Right. I was trying to forget it. Anyway, I'll be in tomorrow afternoon."

"Have a good time at SciTech."

I was still out of sorts when I got home, but the afternoon brightened when Sarah gurgled and smiled and waved her arms and legs at me. She knew I was a push-over when she was an hour old. And Pat gets better at manipulating both of us every day.

"Where's Patrick?" I asked Weena.

"Michiko took all three to AQWA."

"That's expensive!"

"Yes. I gave her thirty to cover lunch, but it'll run another forty, even though Al gets in free. I can't wait to hear Rachel and Pat tell about the adventure."

"Yes, that'll be a treat."

"I invited them for dinner. You're grilling on the barbie. I got two kilo of rib chops."

"Okay. I'll start the fire. You making a salad?"

"Yes. And I bought three bags of crisps."

"Chaz doesn't know about my response."

"Tell him when he gets here; better, show him the letters." Sarah fussed. "I'll change her; you tend the fire."

The kids tumbled in around five.

"We went to the 'quarium!" shouted Patrick.

"Aquarium," said Rachel. He glared at her.

"An' we went through a tunnel in the sea!"

"Did you see a lot of fish?"

"A shark went right by the tunnel. But that's not a fish, right?"

"Well, it's a fish, but it doesn't have true gills and it doesn't have bones."

"How's that Gordy?" asked Rachel.

 
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