Waiting at the Bluebird
Copyright© 2014 by Forest Hunter
Chapter 8
Cal arrived early; he knew it. He thought that he’d drive out to the Annex and have a look around before anyone else got there. Of course, he’d had a number of ‘look-arounds’ since the factory had gone vacant. It didn’t matter; Cal hated surprises.
When he was elected to the County Legislature he’d asked for his assignment on the Economic Development Committee. He had recently become Chairman. Until then, he’d been forced to settle for little victories and some big defeats. Maybe he still would have to, but not until he gave the Annex project his best effort.
He parked near the front door and got out. He decided on the drive over that he’d walk the perimeter of the building. It was an unusual step for such an occasion and he knew that there was nothing he could have done at the spur of the moment if he did find anything amiss. It was just that after all the meaningless ‘show-and-tells’ he’d done trying to get the Annex reoccupied, he thought this morning’s prospect offered the best chance that he’d seen in a while.
It was nine in the morning, still cool and moist from the nighttime dew. The midday sun hadn’t yet risen to parch everything. Cal’s hopeful attitude was fresh and cool. He glanced around at the expansive parking lot. In place of the weeds growing through the pavement he pictured employees’ cars. At nine in the morning, work would already be well under way.
He wasn’t certain if his imaginings were of yesterday’s cars, whose owners assembled portable typewriters, or those that he hoped would be there in the not-too-distant future. He was old enough to remember when the old factory employed most of his schoolmates’ parents. The Christmas bonuses were the fuel that added the glow to the windows of the downtown stores—happier times. It seemed that in those days all things were possible. He shook his head again. They thought the good times were forever. No one had worried enough.
By the time he realized that he’d been walking and thinking without even looking at the structure as he passed by, he was at the back of the factory building studying the shipping docks. He wondered if there were enough of them, if they were big enough, about the capacity of the road that led from the Annex to the Interstate. It was a review of the stumbling blocks he’d encountered in the past.
Cal glanced at his watch; it was nearly nine-thirty. Homer Barlow and Kyle Stevens would arrive soon. Cal turned and began retracing his steps. The sun was beginning to rise higher. Today would be another hot one and still no rain in the forecast.
As he rounded the corner of the building he saw Homer Barlow’s car already parked next to his. Homer was leaning against it. Cal frowned. Homer was dressed in khaki slacks and a plaid shirt. He thought the mayor should be wearing a suit and tie.
Cal knew that Homer saw him approaching. He eyed him without a greeting. Cal had seen Homer cop such an attitude at times. This would be the wrong moment for that. He decided to return silence for silence. Perhaps Homer would say what was on his mind.
When Cal was finally next to him Homer finally spoke.
“Kyle is inside turning on the power,” he said. “Then he’ll do a walk-around to make sure there isn’t anything wrong that we don’t already know about.”
“Good idea,” Cal answered. “Did you remember the blueprints and the tape map?”
“Back seat of my car,” Homer said.
Cal was relieved. Homer seemed to be on the ball, so what he’d seen as he rounded the corner was his game face. They were ready; the only things missing were the prospects.
“So, they’re due at ten?” Homer asked.
“Yeah, the Midco guys are flying in from Newark; Norman Shad, from the Governor’s office is on a flight from Albany. They’ll meet at the airport in Syracuse and rent a car for the drive down to Appleton.”
Homer harrumphed.
“Who is this ‘Shad’ guy and why do we need him?”
Cal expected the question.
“He’s a liaison guy for the Governor. He’s mostly here to pick up PR for his boss. They wouldn’t want a big jobs project to go through without getting credit for it.”
“Maybe so,” Homer growled. “He just better remember this is still my town...”
“We may need him,” Cal countered. “If Midco demands a lot of tax breaks and infrastructure upgrades he’ll have to put up some money to pay for that PR. It could get into numbers that we can’t handle. We’ll have to play along.”
“Whatever you say,” Homer mumbled. “You’re the brains. I’m just a hardware store clerk.”
With that he turned and reached into the car and pulled out a Styrofoam cup of coffee that he’d bought to go at the Bluebird. He lifted the lid and steam poured out.
“I’d ‘ave brought you one but I didn’t know how you take it.”
Homer raised the cup to his lips and took a sip.
“What the hell is a ‘call center’, anyway?”
“We can ask ‘em. I imagine it’s a collection of telephone and computer operators taking orders, doing customer service and the like.”
Homer rubbed his chin and then shook his head. He took another sip of coffee.
“That sounds like a lot of women’s jobs to me.”
“Could be, I don’t know,” Cal answered. “There’ll be the warehouse jobs, too. Don’t forget all the trucks in and outta here, not to mention the construction jobs if they rehab the building. Sounds like plenty for everyone.”
Homer threw away his cup.
“There’s always a problem with these projects. We’ll have to play it cool on the call center part and go heavy on the warehouse and construction end of it—at least, at first. If the public thinks it’s just jobs for women everyone will come out against it.”
“Maybe not the women who want the jobs,” Cal quipped, but Homer wasn’t laughing.
Kyle Stevens came out of the front door.
“The roof leak in the southwest corner is worse since the last time we were here. Otherwise, everything looks okay.”
A large car appeared at the entrance to the parking lot. It stopped at the gate and made a slow turn into the lot.
“It looks like they’re here,” Cal announced.
“I suppose that Shad guy drove them,” Homer said. “What do you think he told them on their way down?”
“Probably patronizing things about us,” Cal replied.
They stopped talking as the car crept closer. A short, thin, dark-haired man in a navy business suit climbed out of the driver’s seat.
“That’s Shad,” Cal whispered.
Another man in a grey suit got out of the front passenger’s seat. He opened the back door of his side as Shad opened the door on his. Two more men in grey suits emerged from the back of the car, older than the two who rode in the front. Homer gasped. He snapped his head around and glared at Cal for a second. Then he leaned over to Kyle Stevens.
“Crissake, Kyle,” he murmured. “They’re Japs!”
Shad introduced the three men as Mssrs. Tanaka, Hitaka and Kondo. There were tentative handshakes all around. Tanaka was an executive from the home office in Japan. Hitaka was head of the US operation and Kondo was an engineer from Japan assigned to the US project.
Cal was relieved when Homer continued to behave himself. He’d heard his comment to Kyle. Cal had wondered about giving the Mayor a heads-up ahead of time. He decided not to, considering the current approach to be the least risky one.
“Sirs,” please allow me to present these tokens as a remembrance of our meeting today,” Tanaka said in perfect English, and then bowed slightly. His two companions did the same.
“Thank you, sir,” Cal said. “We, uh, didn’t...”
It was embarrassing to be empty-handed.
“Don’t worry,” Tanaka said. “The exchange is a custom in our country. We didn’t expect that you would know of it. Please enjoy your gifts.”
Cal felt more at ease. He glanced to the side and noticed Homer burying the small case in his pocket. Kyle opened it and took a closer look. Cal was starting to feel more confident.
“Well, you’re here to see a plant,” Cal said, holding the front door open.
“C’mon, Kyle,” Homer bellowed. “Bring those blueprints along.”
The seven men trod through the maze of vacant offices and the cavern of what used to be the production lines. It was eerie to be in a place that had once buzzed with so much activity. The silence reminded one of the grave, except for the visitors speaking to one another in Japanese. Mr. Tanaka translated whatever he wanted his hosts to understand. It made Cal nervous, but he absorbed it because he had no choice.
Cal led the way, alongside Tanaka, followed closely by Hitaka and Kondo. Norman Shad formed a third row just behind them. Homer and Kyle Stevens moped along in the rear.
“We already know about the leak in the roof,” Kyle called out from the back of the parade, when they arrived at that spot.
Tanaka turned to Cal as they continued their walkthrough.
“Easily fixed,” he said.
They spent a good deal of time at the shipping area. Kondo was very animated as he pointed and spoke to Hitaki and Tanaka. When he was finished Tanaka explained that if Midco moved operations to the site, the shipping and receiving areas would require major improvements to accommodate the flow of goods.
“We are done,” Tanaka announced without warning.
The party about-faced and headed for the front door. No more words were said until they emerged from the building. They had been inside for about an hour. By that time the sun was high in the sky, baking the parking lot and the cars, not to mention the men.
“Mr. Tanaka, may we offer you and your associates an early lunch?” Cal asked.
Tanaka shook his head.
“Perhaps another time,” he replied. “We will return to the airport now.”
Cal looked around. Homer looked relieved. Tanaka spoke once again.
“Perhaps you, Mr. Tucker, would be able to drive me. Messrs. Hitaki and Kondo will return with Mr. Shad.”
Tanaka got into the front seat of Cal’s Mustang. Cal glanced at Homer and Kyle who had nothing to say but appeared stunned at Tanaka’s request. Cal got into the car and started the engine. They started towards the gate of the plant.
“Let the others go ahead of us to the airport,” Tanaka told Cal. “Perhaps, you wouldn’t mind driving me around your city before we follow them.”
“Of course,” Cal replied.
Cal turned right, following Homer and Kyle Stevens as the other car turned left toward the entrance to the interstate. Soon they were passing through the center of town. Tanaka looked about but said nothing.
“There’s the Bluebird Diner,” Cal said as they stopped for a light. “It’s where we would have had lunch.”
Tanaka nodded but kept silent. Cal drove outside of town and showed Tanaka the farm where he grew up. He pointed out many things in-between. They drove onto the ramp to the Interstate that would take them to Syracuse and Tanaka finally spoke up.
“I hope that we can be successful in this project,” he told Cal. “It would be a very good project for our company and your community. I am confident we’re agreed on that?”
Cal nodded. He didn’t make a response, sensing that Tanaka had more to say.
“There are four conditions that will be necessary to complete the project,” Tanaka went on. “First there must be an access road built from the plant to the Interstate. Second, my company must be guaranteed to have no liability from any problems due to the pollution from the leaking solvent tank. The third condition is improved utilities.”
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