Expect the Unexpected

by John A. Broussard

  With twenty years of real estate experience behind her, Jill had tried to pass on some of her expertise to Wilson, but it soon became obvious the advice was unwelcome. Wilson was a rare combination of arrogance and naiveté, as illustrated by his current canvassing of the region for miles around to obtain listings which Jill had told him were unsaleable. The most recent of these was the Kamaka home.

  She had tried to warn him. “Look, Wilson, you’re just wasting your time on the place. It’s nothing but a couple of cobbled-together coffee shacks on a lot that’s less than three thousand square feet. Who’s going to buy something where the first thing they’re going to have to do is to tear everything down before building on a postage stamp? Then they’ll be restricted in the size of the home they can put up and be crowded against other coffee shacks. The only people willing to live there wouldn’t be able to afford it unless you sold it for bargain basement prices. Even then, they wouldn’t have the money for closing costs.”

  “Just watch,” Wilson said. “I’m going to list the property for thirty thousand. At the very least I’ll get twenty-five for it.”

  Jill saw there was no point in pressing the issue. So she was surprised, a few days later, to see a rather scruffy looking middle-aged couple at the reception desk asking about the Kamaka property, and she was appalled at the tactics Wilson began using to sell them the ramshackle place. Their voices carried over the partition separating their offices, and Jill caught what seemed to be a Canadian accent.

  “It’s a beautiful piece of property,” Wilson began, after introducing himself to Ron and Mary Fournier. “And for thirty-thousand, it’s a downright steal.”

  It soon became evident Ron was the reluctant one. “We saw your sign and decided to check with you, but thirty thousand is kind of rich for my blood. It’s a heck of a lot of money. Back in Alberta, I could get a good-size lot and a house I could move into for half that.”

  “Well, Mr. Fournier, you have to remember you’re in paradise now. I know this house doesn’t look so great. It’s what we call a fixer-upper. Sure, the roof needs a little work. But you look like you’d be handy with tools. Besides, there isn’t much rain out there, anyway. And you have to realize property appreciates a lot faster here than in Alberta. You can expect values to double every ten years on the average. So, even if you decided to just leave the place the way it is and never move in, you’d come out way ahead. Darn good investment.”

  Ron sounded skeptical. “From what I can make out, prices have actually been dropping these past few years.”

  “Just a temporary lull, that’s all. The market will go up much faster when it turns around. Which is all the more reason for buying now. Prices have bottomed out. “

  “It does have a nice view, except the neighbor has a lot of palm and banana trees kinda blocking most of it.” This from Mary.

  “I know him.” Wilson said. “He told me he’s willing to trim them back. Even cut them down. Actually, it’s probably illegal for him to have those there. Hawai’i has very strict view-plane laws.”

  Ron broke in. “I checked the foundation, and there isn’t one. It’s just set on piers.”

  “That’s the way we build homes in Hawai’i.” Wilson said, “It allows for air circulation and keeps the house cool.”

  “Does it get very hot there?” Mary asked, anxiously.

  “There’s always a sea breeze,” Wilson reassured her. “You’ll sleep under a blanket at night, summer and winter. And, remember,” he added, with a laugh, turning to Ron, “You’ll never have to shovel snow again.”

  “I’ve heard there’s a lot of what they call ‘vog’ around there.” Ron said.

  “It drifts in once in a rare while from the volcano on the other side of the island, but the eruption is about over. The experts say it’s dying back more and more. Another few months and it will be a thing of the past. Should be a thousand years before the next eruption.”

  “What about water? I asked around the neighborhood, and the people there say there’s a lot of rust in it.”

  “Solved!” Wilson exclaimed, holding up a hand, palm outwards. “The pipes are old and the county’s scheduled to put in new pipes this year.”

  “Won’t we get charged for all those new lines?”

  “No, sir, not a cent. The county water department has a reserve fund set aside for all the pipe repair in that district.”

  “Well, I do want to move to Hawai’i,” Mary said. “I just wish we could find something a bit more affordable.”

  “As it turns out, I know Stan Kamaka personally. Let me put in a phone call to him and see if we can get some adjustment on the price.”

  Jill, who couldn’t resist listening to the conversation, wondered whom Wilson was going to dial. Since Stan Kamaka was living on the beach, at least five miles from the nearest phone and without the wherewithall to afford a cell phone, Jill suspected Wilson was calling the weather report. The phone conversation convinced her his spiel was strictly a monologue.

  “Hi, Stan. This is Wilson. How’re you doing? Great! Yup, I’m fine. Say, I have a buyer here for your home. Well, they’re a real nice couple. They’d like to move out here to Hawai’i, but they really can’t come up with kind of money. Right! Well, maybe we could work out terms. Fifteen percent down, let’s say. Thirty-year amortization. How does sound? You’d take less for cash? OK. Now I’ve got a good idea of what you’re looking at. I know it’s the old family home and you hate to part with it. Yeah, I’ll definitely get in touch with you before I draw up the contract. But I have your signature on it already, so if the sale goes through, I can record it right away.”

  Hanging up the phone, and with a broad smile on his face, Wilson announced, “He’s willing to come down substantially for cash.”

  “It’s the only way I do business,” Ron said. “But I’m not committing myself to anything today. How much is he willing to take?”

  “This is going to rock you back on your heels. For cash, he says, he’ll accept twenty-seven thousand, but he insists on closing the deal today. Between you and me, he needs the money badly, so if we can close the deal today, I’m sure you can get it for twenty-seven. At this price, his property won’t be on the market for even a week more. Someone will walk in this afternoon and scoop it up.

  “Let’s take it, Ron” Mary said, placing her hand on her husband’s arm.

  “Well, I don’t know. It still seems like a lot of money to me. We’ll have to cash in some of our bonds, and I don’t like touching our retirement money.”

  “But this is your retirement. This is what you’ve been saving your money for—to live in paradise.” Before Ron could say anything more, Wilson went on expansively. “I tell you what. My company would like to show you some of Hawai’i’s famous aloha spirit. It’s customary for the buyer to pay half the escrow cost.” Taking up his calculator, Wilson punched in a few numbers and added. “In this case, it would come to about five or six hundred dollars. We’ll pay it, ourselves, as a token of our appreciation.”

  Ron was still looking dubious

  Mary looked unhappy.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Wilson went on. “I’ve known Stan for years. He’s a close friend of mine, and he really needs the money. I’m going to do him a favor and just not take my commission, which comes to…” Wilson punched in a few more numbers. “Sixteen-hundred and twenty dollars. So your total cost is down to twenty-five thousand three hundred and eighty dollars. That’s the total amount. It includes absolutely everything. Recording the deed, taxes, title search—the works. Believe me, there isn’t a single deal on the whole island of Hawai’i to match that.”

  “Take it Ron,” Mary said eagerly.

  Wilson pushed the contract and two pens across the desk, “And next time you come to Hawai’i, we have a special arrangement with one of the car-rental agencies. We’ll give you a week’s use of a car, for half the usual price. I can authorize it right now.

  “And here are some excellent discounts on me
als and attractions. Ten percent off on a helicopter tour of the volcano.” Wilson paused, then added with his usual laugh, “Of course you’d better get back soon while it’s still going.” Scattering coupons out on the desk, he went on, “Two for one on parasailing, half price for a submarine ride out to the coral reefs. It goes on and on. There’s several hundred dollars worth here.” As he spoke he reached into his desk drawer and took out additional packets of coupons, then pointed to the places on the contract needing their signature.

  ***

  “Signed, sealed, notarized and delivered,” Wilson announced triumphantly in Jill’s office after the couple had left. “I got almost four hundred dollars more for the place than I said I would, and those two Canuck hicks think they’ve died and gone to heaven at a bargain rate.”

  She couldn’t resist being cynical. “You sure the check’s good?”

  “He phoned his bank and had them transfer money from his bond account to his checking account. I’ll call the bank in an hour or so and confirm.”

  “Where are they staying?”

  Wilson gave her the name of one of the cheapest hotels in the area.

  “They aren’t exactly rolling in dough,” Jill commented.

  “Who cares. What they do have is as good as anyone else’s.”

  The receptionist came into the office and handed Wilson a card. “A Mr. Howard Rutledge would like to talk to you.”

  Wilson read aloud, “Howard Rutledge. Financial Director. World Development Corporation.” He waved the card in the air, “I’ll bet it’s another sale. Who says Hawai’i real estate is in a slump? All it takes is a little energy and know-how.”

  Jill rolled her eyes, picked up her briefcase and went off to show a lot to a prospective client as her colleague rushed out to greet his new mark.

  Mr. Rutledge was a sharp contrast to the previous clients. Where they had been dressed in shorts, cheap sandals and gaudy Hawaiian shirts, he was impeccably clothed in a tailored suit. His manner, as well, differed markedly from theirs.

  Shaking hands, then moving into Wilson’s cubicle, and sitting down without waiting for an invitation he asked, “Am I correct in assuming you are the exclusive broker for this property?” While speaking, he leaned forward and placed a map of the island down on the desk, pointing to an “X” surrounded by a large circle—one of several on the map—as he did so.

  It took Wilson only a moment to recognize the property as the one he had just sold.

  “Yes, but…”

  “Good. I’m a busy person, and I imagine you have a good deal of business to attend to as well. The board of directors of my company is planning a major resort-hotel development on the island, and I’m here to make the necessary land purchases. I’ve checked with our consultants, and this area,” he waved his hand at the circled portion on the map, “seems to be the closest to what we’re looking for. We’re negotiating for some of the open land above this parcel, and we have options on the neighboring ones. However, if we’re going to build there, this lot will have to be included.

  “Now, I’m empowered to pay you one-hundred-thousand dollars for this piece of land.” He raised his hand to stop any protest. “Please understand, however, we don’t bargain. My company does not do business that way. I cannot and will not pay you a penny more than a hundred thousand.” As he spoke, he rose, handed Wilson his card, and added, “I’m staying at the Royal Waikoloan, and you can contact me there. I realize you’ll have to get in touch with the owner, but I have to know by tomorrow noon at the latest if your client is willing to accept the offer. If I don’t hear from you by then, I’ll be checking out some of these other possible sites.” He indicated the additional crosses on the map, folded it, and placed it in his pocket.

  After a brief handshake with a Wilson who was still in shock, Mr. Rutledge left the office.

  ***

  The trio had already gathered in the hotel room when the phone rang. Ron grinned as he answered it, covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “It’s him.”

  Following the call, Mary asked, “What was his excuse?”

  “There’s something wrong with the contract. He wants to see us right away.” Turning to the third member of the group, he added, “He’ll be here in ten minutes. Better take off.” He laughed and added, “Wilson Teal wouldn’t be too happy to see Mr. Howard Rutledge hobnobbing with riff-raff.”

  “How much do you think you can stick him for?”

  “Well. I think twenty thousand in cash will be enough to convince us to tear up the contract and accept our check back. Twenty thousand sound OK to you, Mary?”

  She laughed, and said, “Make it twenty-one thousand. After all, we have to pay fancy hotel-room prices for ‘Mr. Rutledge.’ And, besides, I’m going to have to cry a lot over losing our place in paradise.”

  “You’re right. And be sure to remind me to give Wilson back all those coupons.”

  ACTS OF TERROR

  A German Radio Broadcast, July 22, 1940

  Franz and Hilda Mueller, quietly proud of their son who had given his life for his country, huddled close to the radio. Since one of the tubes was failing, it was difficult to follow what was being said. Franz wasn’t sure where he could get a replacement now with so much of everything mobilized for the war effort. The speaker crackled. The listeners leaned even more closely to hear the announcer.

  This morning we are honored to have Minister Joseph Goebbels, of the Reich Ministry for People’s Enlightenment, report to the German nation about our splendid victory over the French warmongers who were threatening our very existence:

  Greetings to the German people. It is now over a year since Our Leader announced how our victorious forces marched through the streets of Paris in a rapid and virtually bloodless conquest. The war against this implacable enemy of the German people is behind us. Crowds of well-wishers greeted our motorized units as they drove through the city, festooning them with flowers and thanking us for freeing them from their oppressors.

  Though all major military combat operations are at an end, pockets of resistance and acts of sabotage—undoubtedly financed and supported by foreign influences—continue, but our brave German soldiers are swiftly eradicating them. Our commanders in the field have informed us foreign fighters are being actively recruited by loyalists to the fallen government to join the resistance against the occupation forces, and are thus posing a new challenge to our efforts to stabilize the country. We now have reliable information the members of the underground Jewish network responsible for the burning of the Reichstag are behind these cowardly ambushes on our forces.

  While remnants and dangerous pockets of the old regime remaining loyal to the ousted government are trying to kill and intimidate German soldiers—who are bravely facing a continuing risk of danger and sacrifice in the countryside—our military is acting decisively against these threats. They have killed many so-called partisans during the past two days, in battles against an increasingly sophisticated local resistance.

  This futile resistance to our vast military power, however, is forcing upon us a fundamental reassessment of the situation in terms of political and military stability. But, let none of our enemies be mistaken, we intend to eradicate these criminals, party loyalists, paramilitary groups and other subversive elements engaging in acts of terror.

  The German offensive, consisting of sweeps north and west of the capital, began on Thursday night with an intense air strike to destroy what local commanders have described as “a terrorist training camp”. Paratroopers from the 101st Storm Trooper division, as well as 3rd Panzer corps soldiers then poured in to clear out the remaining fighters, killing 97 of them. There is no question but foreign recruits used the camp, since our forces found extensive caches of guns and ammunition as well as documents indicating their plans for further terrorist acts.

  What now remains are only loose-knit groups of loyalists to the discredited regime who have been responsible for growing sniper and other attacks in recent weeks. These
are little more than madmen who wish to engage in violence.

  Our brave soldiers feel the continuing sweeps against these foreign elements are a worthwhile effort on our part, something clearly reflecting the German spirit. They recognize the difficulty of the task, and the almost daily killing of our brave soldiers is not interfering with military efforts to bring security and normal life to the nation.

  This is not guerrilla warfare. It is not close to guerrilla warfare, since it is not coordinated, is not organized and has no leaders. Only a handful of terrorists are involved in these attacks on German troops. In some cases these mercenaries are actually being paid to kill our soldiers. A reliable source in the fields has reported how, “They have put a bounty on shooting and trying to kill German soldiers, but their efforts are militarily insignificant, and we are making good progress in eliminating these treacherous creatures.”

  These people are the last remnants of a dying cause, since our forces of liberation have the sympathy of the entire population.

  While the deaths of our brave German troops generate a deep sorrow, the German people know the sacrifices are worthwhile in order to bring about a New World Order led by our great Leader.

  Above all, all true and patriotic Germans must continue to support our troops.

  Heil Hitler!

  Franz and Hilda Mueller stood, faced the photograph of their dead son on the radio, raised their right hands high and shouted, “Heil Hitler.”

  AOMORI SAMURAI—A LEGEND

  The Lord Master of one of the greatest clans in Japan’s Aomori province had only one child, a son he loved dearly and was very proud of. The son, who had been raised from childhood to be a great samurai, was brave and strong and devoted to his father. The father had himself been known and feared far and wide as a warrior in his youth.