Chapter 34: Decathlon

That afternoon I am visiting Gran when Nisha shows up with a bundle of papers. She sticks her head in the room to make sure she is at the right one then she walks in, saying, “I thought I might find you here when there was nobody at your home.” She drops the papers on an empty chair then picks up Gran’s hand to shake it, saying, “I’m Nisha. I hope you are feeling better.”

Gran can talk loud enough for people to hear, but it takes effort, so she doesn’t speak unless she has to.

“Nisha is the lady I told you about that I was contemplating hiring for my PR position. She wrote an article about me for the UVic Paper. It was published when we were in custody, so she brought us copies to hand out to friends and family.”

“Aren’t your companies a little small to need a full-time PR staff?”

“At the rate they are growing, by the time you graduate, it might be too late. But I would rather hold out for somebody I know and trust than gamble on a stranger.”

Nisha only stays for a short visit. The entire time, she is uncomfortable. I don’t know her well enough to pry, but to me, it seems like there is something more than a typical person’s aversion to hospitals. There is a reason she doesn’t like the place.

After she leaves, I open the bundle of papers and pick one up. I read the article aloud for Gran. Nisha is right about being honest in her writing. I understand why she thought I might not like it.

For the most part, the article is flattering. She speaks of all the different plans I have to help individuals, the city, our country and the world as a whole. She also wrote, “I was pleased to have Trent take me on a personal tour of his home and business, but it didn’t take long for his arrogance to shine through. He always spoke with an extreme confidence. It didn’t matter what my opinion was. He always sees himself as being right. He made predictions of the future as if they had already come true. He even made predictions of the fall of communism that any expert would laugh at.”

I’m sure she thinks I will never speak with her again, but I am pleased with the article. She didn’t write anything that isn’t true. She spoke her mind, even though she thought I would be offended.

When I get home, I phone her. I am expecting to leave a message, but the girl that answered the phone says she had just seen Nisha head up to her room, so she sends somebody to get her.

Nisha picks up the phone, not knowing who is on the line for her, says, “Hello?”

“Hi Nisha, I’m glad I caught you.”

“I’m surprised you are being civil.”

“Why wouldn’t I be civil? You did exactly what I asked you to do. You wrote an honest article. Nobody is perfect. I expected some negativity.”

“I figured you would be disappointed in how I laid it on thick. I didn’t hold back.”

“Why would you? I don’t. Hence I am often perceived as being more arrogant than I am. I know I am arrogant, but not holding back just amplifies the perception.”

“I’m glad you like it. A lesser man wouldn’t.”

“How much longer do you have to graduation?”

“This semester is almost over. That will put me halfway, so I have another two years.”

“That is perfect. How would you like to have your tuition, books and all school supplies paid for in exchange for a five-year contract to start the week after graduation?”

“What makes you think I am interested in a PR position. I’m studying journalism.”

“With a minor in politics. The types of questions you asked also spoke a lot about your true interests. You like writing. You like politics. You do not wish to be a starving writer but see it as being inevitable. What I am offering is more than a PR position. In two years, I will need to hire somebody. I would prefer to hire somebody I groomed for the position. You want to write, and I want a writer to help with a semi-autobiography. It isn’t about me. I don’t want to tell you what it is about yet. I need a journalist, and I need a PR person. You will have a staff, so you can delegate and do the parts of the job you enjoy.”

“Five years is a long time, and you have no clue if I will be any good at it.”

“Morals and talent can’t be taught. The rest of the job can. I have made my choice. I want you and am willing to fight to get what I want.”

“Let me think about it.”

“If that isn’t enough, here is a little more incentive for you. I have partnered with the Times Colonist. If you think you have a story worthy of a real newspaper, let me know, and we will see about convincing them to publish it. Not every reporter gets a chance to be part of history. Don’t keep me waiting.”

The rest of the week, not much else happened. I spend some time each day with Gran. Kim and I show the guys from Allied Barton the shop we are about to move into, and one of them hangs out at the house at all times. The girls don’t like the idea of fooling around with the soldiers walking by my window. Each morning we just cuddle.

Monday, I pass all my exams. I am relieved to go back to school on Tuesday. Since Gran’s funeral arrangements are taken care of, I have no real worries and can relax. Don’t get me wrong. It is still a sombre time waiting for her to pass on. She is back to having more bad days than good.

At lunch, on Tuesday, I get a little surprise. I’m anxious for some normalcy, so I am early to lunch. Kim and Dahlia are sitting on either side of me. Carol and Moira aren’t there yet. That is when Blair walks into the cafeteria, holding Kevin’s hand, and they are both wearing a goofy-looking grin and the most puppy love-struck eyes I ever saw.

Dahlia lets out a little squeal of excitement. As Blair is about to sit down, she is mauled by both Kim and Dahlia, wanting to give her a congratulatory hug. I just nod my head at Kevin and say, “Congratulations, I was wondering when the two of you would figure it out.”

Kevin replies, “I think I might owe it to you. We have all changed so much in the last year. Ever since you moved here there has been one big thing after another. We are all much closer. I don’t think Blair and I could have had a chance before, but we both changed enough, it was hard for us to miss.”

“I may have changed your life a bit, but you could have had Blair, even before I moved here. She always admired you and it was only a matter of time before you figured it out. You would have pulled all your hair out trying to figure out what to do about it, but once you were bald, you would have made your move.”

“I still didn’t make a move. She did. Blair used the fact that we are the worst cyclist as an excuse to invite me cycling every spare minute we had. I was still too dumb to see the signals, so she asked me on a date. She even insisted on paying because you pay her more than me.”

“I pay her more than you because of the hours she works and what she does. In a couple years, her pay will not come close to yours.”

The girls are giddy all lunch, and it is difficult to hold a reasonable conversation with them. To make matters worse, I haven’t cum all week, since the girls refuse to do anything with the soldiers all over the yard. Thankfully there is only room for a girl on either side of me because all four are getting the lovesick look. Kim and Dahlia can’t keep their hands off of me. The constant teasing is making me hard, and it is getting painful. I am happy when the bell rings to end lunch. I quickly have a cold shower before changing for Judo class. I will be glad when the PPCLI are gone, and things are back to normal.

I only have a couple days rest before things get busy again. I have to close the deals to rent the shop, buy the restaurant property and start buying properties by Langford lake. We have to pack up everything to take to the new shop. On top of that, I need to sit down with Allied Barton to figure out security, both in the home and the shop. Then there is dealing with the defence contractors and the deal with the Canadian Armed Forces for their new combat uniforms. I still have to deal with NeXT, Motorola, Lockheed, McDonnell Douglass and Northrop. I barely find any time to sleep. Even with delegating as much as I can, my university work suffers, and I spend a lot of time at school doing work instead of learning.

I am relieved when the weekend comes, and I have to go to Hope for the academic competition. I’m almost surprised to see Kim at the school waiting for the van Friday, after school. With everything else going on, I forgot she told me she is on the team. The team is only four people. Two guys and two girls. I don’t know the other guy. The girl would be pretty, but she needs braces. She is a buck-toothed brunette that is a little on the skinny side for my tastes, but she is young and has time to fill out. Her name is Elsa. Kim introduces everybody. The boy is a bit dorky, enough so that if I were vain, I would never talk to him. His name is Tyler.

The ride to the ferry is only about a half-hour. I am surprised to see the team studying their asses off. I have always been of the opinion that if you are this close to test time and you don’t know your stuff, then no amount of studying will fix that. I prefer to relax before a test. I just sit there and hold Kim. When somebody gives a wrong answer, I correct them, or if the group is stumped, I speak up. For the most part, I keep to myself.

I am surprised to notice how extensive Elsa’s knowledge of engineering is. A girl her age shouldn’t be anywhere near this well versed. Kim is definitely the smartest of the three, but Elsa vastly outshines her when it comes to engineering. Our chaperone is the head of the science department, a short guy named Mr. Bentley. He is one of those nerds that just never grew up. He still uses a pocket protector, his glasses are 20 years out of style, and he has a comb-over to hide his bald spot.

We get on the ferry and take seats in the front, where everybody has room to sit and study. They all have their heads in various books. Even Mr. Bentley is reading. I figured Elsa is the one that needs to study the least, so I ask, “Elsa, I figure we all need a snack to tide us over until supper. Do you want to come, give me a hand while I get us something?”

She gives me a shy, tentative smile and, in a mousey voice, says, “Sure.” She closes her book and gets up to follow me. I figure there is no need to go all the way to the cafeteria, so we only go aft to mid-ships where the concession stand is.

While we load up on sandwiches and snacks, I say, “Just tell me to shut up if you don’t want to answer. I know it’s none of my business, but why don’t you have braces.”