Chapter 38

After a trip to Wichita for the K&ASR Board of Director’s quarterly meeting, the remainder of September settled into what resembled old routines, though early October brought the demand to return to planning sessions of various sorts.

By October third, Malik’s new buildings on Courthouse Avenue and on Wagon Road Avenue were completed and both Eve Palmer’s dress shop and portions of the law office were busy relocating. The partners’ offices were moved, temporarily, to the former dress shop so that a third floor could be added to the law office.

On Tuesday, October 9^th, an architect arrived with proposed house plans and drawings. Milos Szabo (MEE-lohsh JHA-bo) was known for his work around Denver and the boom towns along Colorado’s Front Range. He presented Malik with several options for his new home in Sundown Ridge. A few were only represented by artistically rendered oblique projections of their facades. For others, he had prepared complete drawings and plans. The drawings represented several architectural styles.

Szabo placed two drawings on an easel he had brought to Malik’s office and, in an accent still showing its deep Hungarian roots, he spoke in a slow cadence with slightly guttural inflections, “You haf indicated to me dat your home would alzho zerve azh a dishplay of dee antishipated prozperity, longevity, and modernity of dish town. Azh zuch, it would not zerve to depart from dee most popular current shtyles. Here are representations of two of dem. Dis one izh Neo-Colonial, alzo called Colonial Revival. It izh derived from British Georgian architecture. Dish izh called Mizhion Revival. Yesh, I can zee you like dat. It izh very popular in California.

“Now, here izh one more shtyle,” Szabo said, setting a third rendering on top of the other two., featuring a three story tower on one corner and adecorative wood trim. “Dish shtyle izh named for Queen Victoria, and it hash taken hold in dee Easht and Midvesht. Zough, I notishe your eyezh shtill moving toward dee Mizhion shtyle. However, I am recommending dish Victorian shtyle azh besht zuited to your purposhesh.”

Szabo explained that the Victorian style house, with its three stories, plus a basement, had ample space to include all of the rooms Malik wanted. He pointed out that its footprint was best suited to the lot size Malik had chosen. For a third point, Szabo explained that the Victorian style had come to represent prosperity in every corner of the country, without being labelled pretentious. Finally, he said it represented permanence in opposition to the uncertainties of the frontier, of which the Mission style hinted.

“I realize dat you prefer a zimpler, lehs decorative shtyle, but I recommend dish Victorian shtyle to you azh dat mosht likely to make dee statement you vish to reprezhent your development effortsh here.”

“And the Neo-colonial?” Malik asked.

Szabo explained that Neo-Colonial had been popular in the Southeast and the Northeast, but it carried the taint of the plantation and slavery. While in the Southeast it was still seen as a reflection of England, elsewhere it was a reminder of the antebellum South.”

Malik nodded, “Yes, I can see that.” Then he leaned back, shaking his head. “You make very good points, Mister Szabo. Much as I might prefer otherwise, I think you are correct. I just wish I did not have to live in it.”

Szabo smiled. “You might look at it azh but a temporary home, to be occupied for five or ten yearsh, as zhuits your purposhesh with your Zundown Ridge development. Den you can build anudder houshe, one more to your liking, out on your family ranch or on dee land you and your brudder own along dee Rio Izhabella. Or on dee ranch in dee Shmoky Valley dat will be your daughter’sh.”

“Yes,” Malik said, “but, unfortunately for your interests, there is already my ideal house on her ranch.”

Malik shifted in his seat. “I can’t give you a decision this minute, Mister Szabo. I have little doubt that I will end up choosing the Victorian. However, I will need some time to come to terms with the notion. In the meanwhile, may I invite you to lunch?”

The following week, on Wednesday, October seventeenth, at ten o’clock, the bell by Malik’s speaking tube rang. He pulled out the stopper and said, “Yes?” into the tube.

Peng Delan’s voice came back, “Mister Andy Malik and Mister Tim Page are here to see you, Mister Malik.” It was an appointment of which Peng Yan had reminded him, earlier.

“Thank you, Miss Peng. Please send the gentlemen up.”

When they arrived, Andy introduced Page to his brother. Tim Page, a clean-shaven man of about Malik’s age and size, was an engineer with the firm of Langfelder and Ducey Engineering of Saint Louis. He had come out specifically to visit the site that an earlier survey had recommended for a dam in Isabella Canyon.

After some preliminary discussion of coffee or water, which Peng Delan furnished, Page said, “It’s all but ideal, Mister Malik. The canyon is barely ninety feet wide, at that point, and both the bedrock and the lower canyon walls are well suited to the arch-gravity type dam we’re recommending. We should easily be able to maintain a dynamo head of sixty feet, that is, sixty feet of downward hydraulic pressure on the generating turbines. The wide expanse known as Half Moon Cove is just above the site and will serve well as a penstock reservoir, a mill pond, so to speak.”

“You said, ‘nearly ideal,’ Mister Page. What are the limitations?”

“Two or three things, essentially. One is that building a trail to the top of the canyon, to replace the trail that will be submerged, will be impractical at that location, partly because the narrow width of the canyon provides little opportunity for a realistic gradient, but also partly because of a condition that I’ll come to in a minute.

“The second problem is that, while the narrow width at that location suits our purposes for the dam, it also limits space for the dynamo building, at least for more than three turbines at the dam face. With the average flow of the Isabella, we’ve determined that as many as five turbines would not be unrealistic.

“Affecting both of the first two issues is the relative instability of the upper canyon face below the dam site. Rock falls are a very real danger for structures built below the dam. Normally, we could just bring down the worst of it by blasting, but we would have to remove all that debris, and the canyon does not allow any maneuvering room for wheeled equipment without clearing that same type of debris from the canyon below the site, causing a significant increase in cost,

“We’re looking at several options. One is to find a way to stabilize the rock in place, perhaps with anchor bolts or cement, or some combination. Another is to blast and then remove the debris with an overhead crane that would be suspended from cables that would cross the canyon from rim to rim.”

Malik was tapping a pencil on his desk. He stopped and said, “If you did that, ran a suspended crane, that is, would it be easy, or even possible, to convert that to a suspension bridge, afterward?”

Page was shaking his head. “Some parts might be convertible, the anchor points, for instance, but the cable set up would be very different. If you really wanted to bridge the canyon, you’d be better off with an arched span just below the dam site. But do you really see the need for a bridge there?”

“No, no. I was just thinking that we might kill two birds with one stone, I mean, if the structures were compatible and it was going to be built in the first place. The top of Sundown Ridge is fairly flat, compared to the other three ridges, and I have sometimes wondered if there wouldn’t be some use to it. It wouldn’t be worth building a completely separate bridge, at least not now,” Malik said.

Andy said, “I could see that a trail or even a railroad could be accommodated up there, but I can’t see a good reason for either to be built on top the ridge in the first place. Maybe we should talk about it when we have more time, Emil.”

“Nah, it was just a wild hair. Forget it. But we will have to find a place for at least a horse trail to cross the ridge.”

Page said, “I think we have found a place that may suit, directly west of town.”

On Friday, as the Malik brothers, Peng, and Lee rode toward Ranch Home, Andy buttoned the collar of his jacket and observed, “Evenings are getting chilly.” While the four could have ridden abreast on the improved road, Lee customarily rode in advance and Peng rode to the rear.

Malik said, “I received a letter today, from the railroad, offering to build some manner of enclosure for my rail car.”

“What’s all that about?” Andy wanted to know.

“The railroad is going to add a second and possibly a third floor to the depot. As part of that improvement, they’re willing to build a shed to enclose my business coach.”

“A ‘shed’?” Andy questioned.

Malik explained, “In railroad parlance, a shed is usually a structure meant more for sheltering equipment than for providing shelter for staff, customers, or passengers. A shed can be as simple or as elaborate as suits purposes. An extensive glass canopy over the width of several passenger platforms, such as one finds at a large city train station, might be referred to as a train shed. A wood-structure repair shop that spans one track might be termed a locomotive shed or a car repair shed.”

“So, what are they talking about for your coach?”

“Nothing was specified. Someone involved with the project will be in town next week and will make an appointment to speak with me.”

“Would you want something like that, of any kind?”

“It depends. A roof to shelter from the sun, and snow, and rain would be good. Something that encloses it in windowless darkness wouldn’t be so desirable.”

“What’s the purpose of adding floors to the depot, in the first place?”

“Most train depots are in, or adjoin, the business district of the towns they serve. Certainly, that’s true of the K and ASR in Waypoint. The Kanzona has a plan to increase the -earning potential of those prime commercial sites by adding space that can be rented to businesses. Our ranch office, for instance, would be the type of customer they’d cater to, one that deals with both out-of-town customers and railroad shipping. But even professionals, like lawyers or engineering firms, might locate there.”

“Makes good sense. Not that I would want to move our ranch office there, necessarily.”

“I agree, at least until we see how the competition shapes up. But you might want to move the Dry Valleys Co-op office there.”

“Yeah,” Andy deliberated, “that might work. For what we need, that building we’re in is too large. In fact, what if, instead of opening a real estate office across the tracks, we rented space in the depot?” After a moment, he asked, “Do you reckon they’ll allow business name signs in the waiting room or on the platform?”

“I would imagine they’d have to, in at least one or the other, if not both. Perhaps not large advertising signs, but at least prominent business shingles.”

They had ridden in silence for a few minutes, when Andy remarked, “I notice that you usually refer to the railroad as ‘they’ and ‘them,’ but hardly ever as ‘we’ or ‘us,’ even though you’re on the Kanzona’s board of directors. Do you not feel like an owner?”

Malik was quiet for a few moments, then he said, “I do harbor some proprietary feelings, but they seem to ebb and flow, depending on the context in which I’m operating. In most of my conversations, my role in the road is not significant to the framework of the topic. For instance, I had practically nothing to do with the plan to expand the stationhouses, other than to approve the policy at a board meeting, and I know nothing of the details, so I think of it as their plan. But when the tunnel and then the bridge were blown up, I felt very much that we were under attack. But, if pressed on any issue regarding the railroad, I think I’d more likely identify with the we and us side of things.”

He turned, a bit, in his saddle to look at Andy. “I really am quite pleased, even proud, I suppose, to be a member of that board of directors. They are a very forward-thinking group with a wide diversity of perspectives.” He chuckled. “In some ways, I reckon I still feel like a country bumpkin in the big city when I think of my participating in their deliberations. Even Raul now seems like he has been there forever.”

Andy looked askance at his brother. “But don’t you see that you are exactly like that, too? You fit that group like you were born for it.” He was shaking his head dubiously as he finished.

“Sometimes I see that, I suppose, but most of the time it’s like everything else I do, sort of a ‘what in the hell am I doing here?’ type of feeling. Like the first time, when I was a kid, I got on a horse I knew was going to try to buck me off. Come to think of it, I feel like that most of the time,” he said, laughing.

“And well you should, big brother. You seem not to be satisfied unless you’re juggling a half dozen eggs all at the same time,” Andy chortled.

“And how are you different?” Malik demanded. “You might not have a railroad to play with, like I do, but you effectively worked your way out of the job of managing the biggest ranch in this part of the state and took over administering the biggest land management and mining and processing concern in the state. At the same time, you dramatically improved the ranch’s business by moving the sales and purchasing office into town and increased the ranch’s land holdings by nearly half when you took over Nestor’s old spread and moved heavily into horse breeding. And don’t forget, I may have thought up Sundown Ridge, but Riverside was your idea.”

Andy grinned and shrugged. “I suppose I’m like you, but, in my case, I feel like you’re the sophisticated businessman and I’m just along to carry your bags. After all, you went to college and I just finished basic secondary school at a country schoolhouse.”

“I graduated from that same schoolhouse. I may have gone college to learn the law, but most everything else I do I learned from Pa and Ma. And that was exactly the same education you had,” Malik told him.

“They were a pair, weren’t they?”

Malik said, “That’s for certain.” Then he looked ahead and said, “But for now, what say we adjourn this meeting of the mutual admiration society and let these horses run a while, like they want to, and we can see our babies that much sooner.”

“Mister Malik,” came Peng Delan’s voice from the tube, “there is a Missus Beatrice Nowak here to see you.” Peng Delan pronounced Nowak in the Polish style, as if the “w” were a “v.”

“Thank you, Miss Peng. Please bring Missus Nowak up.” It was Wednesday of the following week. Beatrice Nowak, an architect under contract to K&AS Land Resources, had telephoned the office yesterday, requesting an appointment with Malik.

As he was walking around his desk, his first view of the woman who followed Peng into Malik’s office caused him to stop briefly in surprise. His hesitation was only momentary as he continued to move forward to shake her hand.

“Missus Nowak, how do you do? It’s a pleasure to meet you” Malik said, a wry smile playing about his lips.

“And I you, sir,” she said, extending her hand. “And, yes, I’ve already been informed that, save for my red hair, I bear a striking resemblance to your brother’s wife. It has been remarked on more than once.”

Still shaking her hand, Malik said, “Striking is the word, Missus Nowak. You could easily pass for her sister, even a twin.” He released her hand, “But, please, sit down. I apologize for my display.”

“Not at all, Mister Malik. I just hope my features will not interfere with my work, here.” She was carrying a leather portfolio and a roll of several blueprints, which she placed on the floor next to her chair.

“Oh, but I am sure it will, at least at first, until the novelty wears off. Waypoint is just a small town, and we are easily amused by anything that departs from our common routines,” Malik said, with a broad smile. “Have you met my brother, yet?”

“I have not had the pleasure.”

“Well, you must. Perhaps at lunch. Then, if you don’t mind, you might, yourself, be entertained by the circumstances. I know I will be.”

Nowak was shaking her head, but she was smiling. “I suppose it must occur at some point, if I am to fulfil my contract.”

Malik looked at Peng Yan, who had seated herself to take notes, and said, “Miss Peng, telephone my brother and invite him to lunch. And then call the Inn and reserve a small dining room.”