Chapter 2: The Wind-Up

I received a certified envelope which I personally had to sign for while at work. I found this quite curious as nothing like it had happened to me before. Within the envelope was a first-class ticket to Bangor, Maine, a pre-paid hotel reservation for three days and a letter of introduction from the firm of Price, Smith and Bolt. I was requested to appear at their offices at 9:30 on Tuesday, the fifth of March. I gave the proverbial shrug and said to myself 'what the hell'. I showed all this to the superintendent (my boss) to arrange for some time off.

I had enough money in my account to do this and not feel overly put out about it. I packed my one good suit in my hard-side suitcase along with a paperback to read and tea fixings for the hotel room. It would be cold on the east coast in early March. I prepared for it.

Equipped with my suitcase, a small courier bag containing a laptop and my birth certificate I took the train into Chicago's Union Station. I found out which subway line to take to get to O'Hare Airport and spent a boring hour plus in transit. I made it through 'the grope' line without punching anyone. I'm a 'white-knuckles' flier but made it to earth again. Wonder of wonders, my suitcase made it to the same destination! A taxi took me to Epic Sports Gear where I bought a decent pocket knife and a warm, packable goose-down jacket, then proceeded to back-track to the Four Points Sheraton, near the airport.

I was impressed with their registration process and the room which I was assigned. I was shown to a better-quality room on the side away from the airport so the sounds of the jets wouldn't be continuously screaming in the background. Being on the fifth floor meant the traffic noise was abated as well. The hotel restaurant did a reasonable job on my grilled salmon supper. The fact that the meal was comp'ed into my hotel bill made it even more palatable. I'd brought a bottle of bourbon in my luggage. A little ice and water set me up a lot cheaper than the room mini-bar or the hotel penthouse bar would have. I watched a movie on HBO, had a couple of drinks and rolled over into sleep for the night.

My little camping alarm clock woke me an hour early--early for me, that is. Bangor is an hour ahead of Chicago. I rose, washed and dressed. Breakfast was on in the restaurant. I stuck with hash-browns and eggs with a hot tea. At 8:45 I had the front desk call for a cab. By 9:20 I was on the steps of the address noted in the letter. At the indicated time I was brought into an office in which three men sat across the table from the single seat available. This was looking a bit adversarial.