Chapter 20: It Happened One Night

January 17, 1989, Chicago, Illinois

"What time do you have to leave this morning?" Kara asked, as we showered together on Tuesday morning.

"About 8:30am," I said. "I'm driving over to get Jeri, then heading to O'Hare. We have an 11:00am flight. Assuming all goes well, we'll be in the office by 3:00pm Pacific time. We'll spend a couple hours going over the software, then go to dinner. The demo is tomorrow. Our flight back on Thursday leaves LA at 11:00am, so we'll be home by 8:00pm, I guess."

"You talked to Jacqui and Sensei Jim, right?"

"I did. Jolene is teaching tonight, and Jacqui will run by herself while I'm gone. The InterContinental has treadmills, so I can get up at my usual time and run. Running through the streets of LA, even in the Bunker Hill area, isn't my idea of a smart thing to do."

"Your daughter and I will miss you! What should I tell Jessica if she calls?"

"That I'm in LA on business. That won't surprise her because we have an office there and one of our biggest clients is there. I'll be here on Sunday for her usual call. I'll call you when we get to the office today, and then tomorrow night. Thursday I'll call when we get up, which should be before you leave for your lab."

We finished our shower and had breakfast together. Kara was leaving before I needed to, so after she made sure that Birgit was settled with Veronica, I walked Kara to Jessica's car and kissed her goodbye. I went back inside to pack my bag for Los Angeles, said 'goodbye' to my kids, and got into my BMW to drive to Jeri's house to pick her up.

She was waiting on the front porch of the Kenwood house, where she lived with her parents. She had her bag and looked extremely nervous. I double-parked in front of the house and set my emergency blinkers before getting out. I walked up to the porch.

"Ready?" I asked.

"I guess," she said, nervously.

"Please let me have your bag and I'll put it in the trunk."

She handed me the bag, and we walked down to the car. I opened the door for her, she got in, and then I shut it. I put her bag in the trunk, then got back into the car and we headed for the airport. Jeri looked out the passenger window and was actually trembling.

"Jeri," I said softly. "Relax. It's just an airplane flight and a meeting. You can do it."

"I'm scared!" she said, nearly in tears.

"I know. And honestly, I understand. I'll be right beside you on the plane, in the next room at the hotel, and right next to you in the conference room at Ford, Jackson, and Finch. You can do this! Dave and Alonzo are both sure you can do this."

"I don't know," she whispered.

I began to seriously question Dave's judgment. Jeri was so nervous I felt she was about to cry, and I wondered if I could even get her onto the plane. And if I did, I was afraid she'd freak out mid-flight. I considered turning around and taking her back home, or to the office, but I had no idea how that would affect her. It was a tough decision. She had packed her bag and had been waiting on the porch when I'd half expected her to have been hiding behind a locked door.

Really, all I could do was take things one step at a time. I had to get her to the airport and then take her through each step. It was tough for me because this was so far outside my personal experience. For me, traveling was no big deal, whether it was by car, train, or airplane. I'd been doing it all of my life, so it really was second nature. For Jeri, I wasn't even sure she'd ever been on the L!

We arrived at the airport and I parked in the short-term lot. I was happy when Jeri got out of the car by herself. I got the bags from the trunk and we walked into the terminal. We showed our tickets at the American Airlines counter and received our boarding passes. We cleared security and walked to the gate. Jeri was clearly nervous, but she was no longer shaking.

"Hanging in there?" I asked.

She nodded, and looked over at me, "What's it like on an airplane?"

"You sit in a seat like on a bus, except you're in the air. We'll be on the plane for about five hours total, from the time we board until the time we deplane. We have a window seat and an aisle seat, with nobody in the middle seat between us. You can pick which of those two seats you want to sit in. Some people like to look out the window, some don't."

"Uh, I'm not sure," she said.

"You're doing great so far, Jeri, just take some deep breaths and try to relax."

"Easy for you to say," she said with a forced smile.

"I've traveled overseas a bunch of times — to Sweden and Russia. Those flights are a lot longer than the one we're taking today. I've been to LA a couple of times, plus flown to DC, New York, and back and forth between Chicago and Cincinnati when my friend Bethany was seriously hurt."

I'd almost said 'in an accident', but that was the LAST word I wanted in Jeri's mind right now! I'd also flown a bunch of times when I was skydiving, but I didn't think mentioning parachutes in ANY context was a good idea, either!

"What does it feel like?" she asked.

"Flying? Well, when you take off, you kind of get pushed back in your seat a bit. When you land, there's a bit of a jolt when you land. Your ears might pop a bit because of the altitude change, but otherwise, you'll barely even notice that you're moving unless you look out the window."

"How fast does the plane fly?"

"Around 500MPH."

"And you say you don't feel it?"

"You only feel acceleration and deceleration, not speed on a plane. That means you only really feel it on takeoff and landing, and even then you're going less than 200MPH and it doesn't feel like it's that fast."

"How did I ever let Dave talk me into this?" she sighed.

"Because he knew you could do it," I said.

She didn't respond, and we sat silently until our flight was called. We got up and walked to the gate and handed over our boarding passes. We walked down the Jetway and onto the plane. I wasn't really sure if Jeri would be better by the window or by the aisle, but I decided to have her sit by the window, with the idea that I could close the blind if she freaked out. I considered getting her a drink to calm her nerves, but decided that was a bad idea because I had no clue if she drank alcohol or not. In fact, I suspected that she didn't.

Jeri did OK until the engines started and she started shaking. I put my hand on her arm and she calmed a bit. We taxied and sat for a moment at the end of the runway. When we started to roll, Jeri grabbed my arm and held on tightly, her grip tightening with each passing foot of runway. I was sure she was going to cut off my circulation and her grip tightened even more as the pilot rotated the MD-80 and the plane roared its way into the air. Jeri's grip threatened to crush my bones, and I was glad it was my forearm and not my hand she had a death grip on.

"Jeri, take deep breaths and try to relax," I said as the plane banked to the left and continued climbing.

She did as I suggested and after a minute or so, when the climb out was no longer quite so steep, she began to relax. A couple of minutes later, she let go of my arm.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I thought I was going to lose it."

"The worst part is over," I said. "Just sit back and relax. We'll get some soft drinks and lunch in a bit."

"I don't know if I can eat," she said. "My stomach is doing backflips!"

"Just close your eyes and relax. You can put your seat back. If you're OK, I'm going to read."

"Uh, sure, OK," she said.

Jeri reclined her seat, and I took out my latest purchase, A Brief History of Time, by Stephen Hawking. It had been recommended by Belinda Barton as something she thought I would enjoy. My other option had been a book that Dante had given me — The Art of the Deal, by Donald Trump. I'd left that at home, and I didn't think I'd read it, given the source and the author. If Dante recommended it, the only reason to read it would be to do exactly the opposite of whatever the book suggested. And if Donald Trump had actually written it, I probably wouldn't be able to stomach it, anyway.

The thin book on quantum mechanics was a TOUGH read. Not from the standpoint of understanding the concepts — Hawking did a good job of trying to explain them to a layman — but from the standpoint of the deep implications it held. Carl Sagan's introduction was, to me, an annoying anti-theist screed. Sagan's objections were to a belief that used religious concepts to explain fundamental questions of the universe. The problem was, at least in my mind, that no amount of science could explain 'WHY?'; it could only explain 'WHAT?' or 'HOW?'. And the answers I was looking for all stemmed from 'WHY?'.

Sagan's answer amounted to little more than 'BECAUSE' and that, to me, confirmed that he was speaking out of personal distaste for religion, and being unscientific in the extreme. My kids would never, and in truth, should never, accept 'BECAUSE' or 'BECAUSE I SAID SO' as an answer, and for Sagan to expect anyone to accept it was paternalistic nonsense which was not worthy of someone who was supposedly a great scientist and cosmologist. My estimation of him dropped significantly because, in the end, his screed was a philosophical and scientific cop out.

One of the things which attracted me to the Orthodox Church was how they handled science. They didn't argue or fight with science, and didn't insist on answering 'HOW?' or 'WHAT?', but focused on 'WHY?'. It wasn't perfect, but it was a heck of a lot closer to my approach to the world than Roman Catholic or Protestant theology. It also jibed with the Hindu and Buddhist thought that I'd learned from Anala. Halfway through the book, I hadn't seen a thing in Hawking's book that did what Sagan had purported in the introduction — proved the non-existence of a god or gods. To the contrary, the glaring omission of 'WHY?' was like a clanging gong which spelt the death knell of Sagan's screed.

As I'd predicted, about an hour into the flight, we were offered lunch and soft drinks. I was glad to see that Jeri accepted the offered meal and a Sprite. I could tell she was still uncomfortable, but she didn't seem like she was going to freak out and try to leave the plane mid-flight! If she could just keep it together for another few hours, we'd be in Los Angeles. While THAT was going to be stressful, I didn't think it would be nearly as bad as the flight.

After lunch, Jeri actually watched out the window as the Great Plains gave way to the Rocky Mountains. She was no longer shaking, and didn't appear nervous at all. I thought she might actually be enjoying the view. I read, and she watched until we began to descend into Los Angeles, when she grew nervous again. I prepared myself for what I knew was coming, a death grip on my arm. It wasn't quite as bad as the one on takeoff, though she jumped when the wheels screamed in protest as they hit the tarmac.

January 17, 1989, Los Angeles, California

"We're landed," I said as the aircraft rolled out and turned onto a taxiway.

"I'm still alive!" she said with an expression that was a combination of happiness and surprise.

"Yes, you are! And you're about to set foot in California. Your first time out of Illinois."

"I almost can't believe it," she said.

"You did well! Next, we'll get a cab to the office."

The plane parked on the ramp and the Jetway was extended. I got our bags from the overhead bin, and we lined up to exit the plane. It was less than half full, so it only took a couple of minutes before we were walking down the long concourse towards the street level where we could find the taxi queue. That line was relatively short as well, and we were quickly on our way to 355 South Grand Avenue where the co-working space we rented was located. Jeri was quiet during the ride, but was looking around and taking in the sights, if you could call them that, of Los Angeles.

"Good afternoon," a young woman greeted us when we exited the elevator on the 18th floor.

"Hi," I said. "We're here for NIKA Consulting. We work for the company."

I handed over my card, and she allowed us to walk down the hallway to the office. When we entered, Barbara and Cynthia both jumped up to greet me with a hug. They knew Jeri, of course, from coming to the Christmas party. Andy wasn't quite so fast to get up, but came over and we shook hands.

"I just came back from the conference room at FJF. I installed Windows on both machines and installed the new version of the software that Jeri sent on floppies. The instructions were perfect and everything looks good. I did run through the list of basic tests she sent as well."

"Good," I replied. "Do you have the computer setup here so Jeri can take you through a full demo?"

"Yes. It's the one in the spare office," Andy said.

"Cool. I need to call home. Jeri, did you want to call your parents?"

"That's probably a good idea," she said.

We both made our phone calls, me to Kara and she to her mom. When we finished our calls, Barbara called us over and let us know about a mass shooting at a school in Stockton, near San Francisco.

"Any idea what happened?" I asked.

"Just that some nut job opened up with a semi-automatic rifle. At least five kids dead, and dozens wounded."

"What the fuck possesses someone to shoot kids?" I growled.

"It takes a real psychopath," Barbara declared.

I shook my head and then we all crowded into the office so Jeri could run through a demonstration of software, both to bring Barbara, Cynthia, and Andy up to speed, as well as do what was, in effect, a dress rehearsal for the presentation on Wednesday morning. We were interrupted twice because Barbara had to take support calls, but fortunately they were short calls.

"This is going to be a big hit," Cynthia said. "Just the ability to have two client records open at the same time, or two case files, or whatever, is going to revolutionize our systems. Have you thought about charging extra for the Windows version?"

"We discussed it," I said. "I can see a charge for installation, but this is what maintenance is supposed to cover."

"Is it?" she asked. "This is almost an entirely new system. I think customers would pay for it. We're offering the DOS version of 4.0 as part of the annual maintenance. Why not charge for this? Nobody will blink. And if someone objects, they can continue using the DOS version. We aren't getting rid of that anytime soon, are we?"

"No," I said. "Talk to Cindi about it. She'll let Julia know her thoughts."

Cynthia laughed, "I know how you work. I already cleared it with her before I said anything to you!"