Chapter 54: Westward Bound ... Or is it Eastward?

June 15, 1994, Chicago, Illinois

“That’s everything, I think,” I said. “My luggage is in the trunk of the car, I have my passport, tickets, and money, both dollars and yen. I can’t think of anything else.”

“I’ll see you in five weeks,” Elyse said, giving me a quick hug. “Did you see they rioted in Vancouver last night because they lost the Stanley Cup?”

I chuckled, “Only Canadians would riot when they LOSE the Cup! I did see that on the front page of the Trib. Are we ready?”

“Michelle and Jennifer are getting the kids into the van and my car,” Jessica said. “You’re going to have a heck of a send-off at O’Hare!”

“Birgit is riding with me, right?”

“Yes! Because none of us want to die!” Kara laughed. “Jess is driving her car, I’m driving the van, and Michelle, Birgit, and Jesse are with you.”

“I’ll be using your parking spot for a month,” Elyse said.

“I certainly won’t be needing it!” I grinned. “OK, let’s get this show on the road!”

Everyone walked outside, and after checking to make sure all the kids were properly strapped in, we got into our vehicles, and headed for O’Hare. Because the first leg of my flight was domestic, we parked in the short-term parking near the American Airlines terminal, and I was escorted by a gaggle of kids and adults to the check-in counter. I picked up Birgit, who was looking very sad, and we stood in line for ‘Business/First Class’.

When it was time, I stepped forward and presented my tickets, explaining that it was just me who was traveling, and not Birgit. I checked my bags, got a boarding pass for the first leg of the trip, and confirmed my trans-Pacific flight, which would be on JAL. I’d have to get my boarding pass for that flight in Los Angeles. I thanked the agent, then went back to where my family was waiting.

“Business class?” Jennifer asked. “That had to cost a fortune!”

“It’s actually ‘First Class’ on the domestic legs because there isn’t business class on the MD-80s I’ll be on to and from Los Angeles. After talking to Sensei Jim and Barney at the travel agency, I decided an eleven-hour flight was just too much in Coach. That was part of our discussion with SPSS for Sam’s trip as well - The twenty hours of Chicago to Los Angeles to Honolulu to Sydney was just too much. Granted, there are a couple of hours on the ground in LA and Hawaii in addition to the seventeen hours of flying, but still!”

“I think you need to start your hugs and kisses,” Kara said. “You still need to get through security for your flight.”

I nodded, and put Birgit down. She frowned, but I needed to be able to hug the rest of my kids, my wives, Michelle, and Jennifer.

“Have fun, Dad!” Jesse said when I hugged him last. “Japanese girls are cute!”

“And how do you know THAT?” I asked.

“We have a new girl in my class who came last year from Japan. Her name is Emiko and her dad works here now. For, uhm Toy, something.”

“The car company? Toyota?”

“Yes!”

“Is there ANYTHING about my kid that’s not like his dad?” I heard Jennifer whisper to Kara.

I stood up, turned to her, and held out my arms, “No!”

She laughed and stepped forward and we hugged.

“Have a safe trip, Steve.”

We shared one of our rare soft kisses, and I moved to hug and kiss Michelle, Kara, and then Jessica. I picked up Birgit again and hugged her tight.

“Be a good girl for your mommies, and I’ll see you when I get home.”

“I love you, Daddy!” she said, throwing her arms around my neck and hugging me tightly.

I let her hug me for a minute, then carefully handed her to Kara.

“Bye kids!” I said.

“Bye, Daddy!” or, “Bye, Dad!” they all called out.

“Those are all yours?” a woman standing a few feet away said.

“They are.”

She shook her head and walked away muttering. I looked at Jennifer, rolled my eyes, shrugged, picked up my carry-on bag, and walked to the security line. I turned, waved, and then put my bag on the belt for the x-ray machine and after emptying my pockets, walked through the metal detector. Everything cleared, so I picked up my things, turned, waved once more, and headed down the concourse to the gate.

I had hoped the promised Tom Clancy novel, Debt of Honor would be available prior to my long trip, but it was due for publication in September or October. Instead, I had with me three books Sofia had obtained for me: «Mördare utan ansikte», «Hundarna i Riga», and «Den vita lejoninnan». All three were crime novels by Henning Mankell, a Swedish writer, and focused on the central character, Kurt Wallander, a police inspector in southern Sweden. They weren’t available in the US as they hadn’t been translated to English, so she’d had Frederick send them to me.

I sat down to wait for my flight to be called, and opened the first book, whose title in English would probably be something like ‘Faceless Killer’, as the literal Swedish translation was ‘Murderer without a face’. According to Sofia, the basic premise was a murder that involved torture, and the book addressed Sweden’s very liberal attitude towards immigration. I’d read about fifteen pages when my flight was called, and as I had a seat in First Class, I boarded before most other passengers.

The seat next to me was empty, which was fine with me, and the flight to LA was uneventful, though I did flirt lightly with the stewardess in First Class when breakfast had been served, and later when she’d refilled my coffee. I made it a good way through the novel, which happily, I hadn’t struggled to understand. I’d been a bit concerned because I hadn’t spoken much Swedish for the previous year because Sofia had been absent during most of it, surviving PGY1.

June 15, 1994, Los Angeles International Airport, Los Angeles, California

At LAX, I deplaned, called home using my AT&T calling card to let Kara know I’d arrived in LA, and then headed for the JAL desk. There, I presented my tickets and passport to a young Japanese man who checked me in for the flight and verified that my bags were being transferred. His final question was one I hadn’t been prepared for.

“American or Japanese meals?” he asked.

“It’s dinner and breakfast, right?”

“Yes.”

“Put me down for Japanese, please,” I said, having no idea what a Japanese breakfast was like.

He pressed some keys on his terminal and the computer spit out a boarding pass which he handed me, instructing me to be at the gate no later than 12:15pm for my 1:00pm flight. I thanked him, stepped away from the counter and looked at my watch. I had nearly three hours before I had to be there, so I walked to the payphone and dialed Ford, Jackson, and Finch.

“Ford, Jackson, and Finch!” a familiar voice answered.

“Hi, Jasmine, it’s Steve Adams calling for Ben Jackson.”

“Hi! How are you?”

“Just fine, thanks.”

“Are you at LAX?”

“I am,” I said.

“He’s waiting for you at the Admiral’s Club. Given the timing, that’s the only way your meeting could work.”

“Very good. Thank you!”

“Have a good time in Japan!”

“Thanks, Jasmine! I’ll see you on my next trip to LA.”

We hung up and I asked a passing SkyCap how to get to the Admiral’s Club. He gave me clear, detailed directions which made it very easy to find the Club. At the door, I showed my membership card, and when I walked in, I saw Ben sitting at a table.

“Hi, Ben,” I said, walking over to him and shaking his hand.

“Hi, Steve,” he replied.

We walked over to the coffee pots and poured ourselves cups of coffee.

“Thanks for coming down here,” I said. “It’s not your usual stomping grounds!”

He laughed, “No, it’s not. Most days I never leave a three-mile radius from the office except to head home. Did you hear the news this morning?”

“I only saw the headlines of the Tribune.”

“The police seem to think OJ killed his ex-wife and her friend Ron Goldman.”

“Seriously? I thought he was in Chicago!”

“It appears his trip was a couple hours after the murders. And they recovered evidence.”

“Damn,” I said. “Are they going to arrest him?”

“Through back channels I hear they’re going to allow him to turn himself in. Can you imagine the zoo THAT will be?”

“It’ll be nuts! I’m glad I’m getting out of LA in a couple of hours! Thanks for coming down to have coffee and accommodate my schedule. I like to see you every quarter, and I won’t make a trip out here before November or December because of this trip and my business trip to Europe.”

“That’s a nice expansion, but it’s a long reach for you guys.”

I nodded, “Yes, but it’s an international firm based in New York, and our deal with them is that they’ll have what they’re calling ‘super users’ in the offices who will funnel things they can’t handle through New York. It’s not all that different from how we handle a couple of big national firms.”

“I also hear Sam is going to Australia? How did you pass on that trip?”

“She brought us the deal, did all the technical work, wrote the proposal, and closed the deal! How the heck could I not let her go?!”

“That’s not a trip you’ll likely make anytime soon.”

“Very true, but you know how I treat my staff. And you benefit from that. How much turnover do we have?”

“Not counting heiresses and thieves?” he chuckled. “Not much.”

“We still miss Jeri, but Brenda is doing an excellent job, and so is Kajri. How are things with FJF?”

“We’re mostly boring tax and corporate attorneys. The only exciting part of our business is our entertainment division, but I don’t have much work I do with them. I just benefit from the money they bring in!”

“The one thing I’ve learned since graduating college is that with few exceptions, law and police work are both singularly boring and uneventful.”

“You do realize there is some advantage to that, right?” Ben laughed. “Not everyone wants to live in the middle of a three-ring circus!”

“Just call me P.T. Barnum,” I chuckled.

We chatted for another twenty minutes before I felt I had to head for the gate.

“Have fun on your journey east!”

I chuckled, “I have to go west to go east.”

We shook hands, and I walked back to the JAL gate to await the boarding call. I read some more of my book, and about 12:25pm, they called ‘First Class’ passengers to board the 747-400 which was parked at the gate. About ten minutes after those passengers, all of whom appeared to be either Western or Japanese business executives, had boarded, they called for ‘Executive Class’ as JAL referred to ‘Business Class’ so I put my book away, grabbed my bag, and walked to the gate. Using both hands, I presented my boarding pass and passport to the pretty Japanese gate agent.

“Welcome on board, Mr. Adams!” she said with a welcoming smile. “Your seat is in the upper deck. The crew will direct you. Have a nice flight!”

“Thank you,” I said, taking back the stub she’d ripped from the boarding pass, again with both hands.

June 15, 1994, Aboard a 747 bound for Japan

I walked down the Jetway and onto the plane, and was directed by a cabin steward to the stairs and walked up them to find my seat, 12-A, a window seat in the second row counting back from the front bulkhead. A stewardess helped me stow my bag in the luggage bin, and after removing my book, a pack of chewing gum, and a bag of cough drops, I sat down. I accepted the offer of champagne as well as a glass of orange juice, and adjusted the tray for her to put them on when she returned.

“Hi,” a soft, feminine voice said.

I looked up to see a pretty, tanned, bespectacled brunette, about 5’7” tall, wearing a sundress which showed off what Elyse would have called her ‘Steve type’ figure. My rough guess was that she was nineteen or twenty.

“Hi,” I replied, closing my book. “Steve Adams.”

“Meredith Caldwell.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

She sat down in the seat next to me, giggled when the stewardess offered champagne, and asked for a coke instead.

“Sorry,” she said, apologizing for not answering me, “nice to meet you, too. I guess we’re trapped together for the next twelve hours!”

I chuckled, “I don’t believe there’s any way off the plane once we take off, so I suppose that’s true. Where are you headed?”

“Okinawa. My dad is a Lieutenant Colonel in the Marines. He’s been stationed there for a couple of years.”

“Were you home visiting?”

“No. I live in San Diego with my aunt. When my dad was posted to Okinawa two years ago, I asked to stay here and finish High School. I didn’t want to leave my friends, you know? I graduated two weeks ago. Is this business or a vacation for you?”

“Neither, really,” I said. “I’m going to spend a month with a senior Shōtōkan karate master to train.”

“Oh, cool! I took Tae Kwan Do for a couple of years when I was younger. Where are you from?”

“Chicago.”

“What do you do besides karate? Or are you an instructor?”

“I am an instructor, but I don’t run my own dojo. I own a computer software and consulting company.”

“Man, everyone I know is talking about studying computers or working in computers. They drive me nuts!”

“Computers or the people?” I grinned.

“Both!” she laughed.

“So what do you want to do?”

“I’m not sure. I have a job as a receptionist once I come back from Okinawa, and I’m going to work for at least a year before I decide. My dad wants me to join the Marines, but can you see me as a Marine?”

“Why not?” I said. “One of the toughest, smartest naval officers I know is a woman. In fact, she was just assigned to the USS Enterprise as a surface warfare officer.”

“OK, Navy, sure. But a Marine? I’m not exactly suited to storming beaches, attacking pillboxes, or throwing grenades into machine gun nests!”

“I can’t see ME doing that!” I chuckled. “There are other jobs in the military.”

“No thanks,” she laughed. “I was thinking more along the lines of physical therapy or sports medicine, though not as a doctor, more like a trainer or workout coach.”

“Are you an athlete?”

“Volleyball. We were state champs this year. It’s why I quit Tae Kwan Do when I started High School. I wanted to focus on volleyball.”

“Congrats! I haven’t watched volleyball since I watched my girlfriend play in eighth grade!”

“You broke up and quit going to her games?”

I shook my head, “No, she was an exchange student. She went home, and about a year later she died in a boating accident.”

“Oh, wow! Sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” I said, then changed the subject, “Is this your first overseas trip?”

She laughed, “Believe it or not, yes. My dad was stationed overseas before I was born, but he was Stateside after I was born. I’ve lived in Virginia, Florida, and now California. And I could have lived in Okinawa, but I wasn’t going to give up volleyball or be away from my friends. Are you married?”

I nodded, “I am.”

“Kids?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

I suppressed a laugh. I should have known I was going to end up going down this path once I started talking to her, and it would have been rude not to talk to her. Well, she was going to either have twelve hours wishing she was anywhere else but next to me, or be fascinated. All I could do was plow forward with the truth.

“Seven,” I said. “Four boys and three girls.”

“Whoa! You’re not that old! Did you have twins or triplets?”

“No. I have a somewhat complicated family life. I have kids by four different women.”