by Philip Elrod
He turned his thoughts to the old man again, remembering their first meeting.
****
Jim met Tom first during the height of the cherry blossom season. The whole mall was beautifully bathed in a pink cloud of cherry blossoms. Jim loved the beauty but dreaded the onslaught of even more tourists. There were very few benches available at the time that this rather formally dressed man sat down beside him. Jim just assumed that he would prefer to sit next to an adult instead of beside some mother with an unhappy toddler.
He had finished his lunch and was treasuring the fleeting beauty of the cherry blossoms. Petals floated gently to the ground like pink snowflakes. He reached out, and one silently drifted into his hand. He bent down and laid it gently to rest with all the others.
Too bad there were so many pedestrians walking about, oohing and aahing over the sights; it was almost too much. Reverential silence would have been appropriate. How wonderful it would have been to have the whole place to himself.
Just then, he realized that someone had just sat down on the bench beside him. The visitor was a rather elderly gentleman wearing a suit and tie. He sported a bright little red flower in his lapel and wore a hat. Jim thought that the hat looked like something Frank Sinatra might have worn. The stranger took off his hat, gave a friendly smile, and said, “Beautiful day isn't it?”
Jim, not happy with having his solitude interrupted, turned to the old man and said, “Yes, it’s a lovely day. But, it would be even better without so many people milling about.”
He hoped that the old man would take the hint and move on. But, no luck.
This old man just gave him an uncomfortably intense look and nodded his head slightly, as if he had just made a decision.
The look was penetrating but not unfriendly. In fact, it was almost mysterious, and Jim suddenly wanted to find out more about this curious person. Since no introductions were made, Jim just thought of him as “the old man." This old man was slender and well-built and of indeterminate age. He must be elderly as his hair was silver, but he did not have appreciable wrinkles. His skin was quite smooth, and there was something almost timeless about him. His erect posture indicated self-confidence and assurance.
Jim continued to observe the old man. He certainly must take good care of himself. He moved with the ease of someone much younger. His silver hair was neatly trimmed and reached just below his collar. And as for the eyes, they were so brown they almost appeared as black, but they had a knowing twinkle that reminded him of someone who had an important secret that he would not share.
Jim decided that the old man probably spent a great deal of time outdoors. He just had that healthy look about him. Was he a nature lover? Was he a skier? Maybe a person who loved to sail? He could be from just about anywhere.
The old man took off that interesting hat and slowly twirled it round and round on his index finger. At last, he dropped the hat into his lap and spoke, “I see that you are a Southern boy.”
How could he possibly know that? Had they met sometime in the past? Jim couldn’t believe that his accent had betrayed him as he had lost it many years ago. Jim smiled and replied, “Yes sir, I am originally from the great state of Georgia."
Jim began to take more interest in this old man who shared the park bench with him. They had only spoken a few words so how could he possibly know anything about him? A suspicious thought crept slowly through his mind. This could be a prank instigated by one of his drinking buddies; wouldn’t be too much of a surprise as it could certainly be payback for one of his past devious tricks.
The old man spoke again, “Yes, I know that you are from the north of Georgia. In fact, I grew up not too far away in northeastern Alabama—a lovely area. I still miss the beauty of Appalachia sometimes, especially in the fall."
Not knowing how to respond, Jim muttered, “I guess my southern accent is still with me, at least a little bit."
The old man shook his head and replied, “Your accent is long gone. However, even though mine is almost undetectable, I consider it to be part of my heritage. It reminds me of long ago days and friends from the past. I believe that you probably lost the final remnants of yours while you were a student at Oxford; what an experience that must have been. Quite an adventure for a young man and a wonderful opportunity! Do you ever hear from that girlfriend of yours over there? Probably enjoys the London scene now.”
Jim became convinced that this was indeed a prank arranged by one of his more inventive and diabolical friends. No one else would know so much about him.
The old man paused to enjoy the beauty of the cherry blossoms; then he continued, “Please don’t be alarmed. I know exactly who you are, where you came from, how you got here, and where you are going.
“Do you remember that Army-Navy game where you caught the deep pass that resulted in Navy's win? It was quite awesome. I must say that I was quite proud of you. So nice to see a transplanted Southerner excel. By the way, I am also familiar with your hometown. A quaint little place. Quite charming although it’s a little small for my taste.”
He continued, “You know, Jim, I had a friend named Slater a long time ago. Not a common name. Quite the rascal, he was. Never a dull moment. Oh well, enough of this rambling. I'm sure that you will do extremely well in Washington. Your appointment as assistant to the national security advisor was quite a coup. Quite a feather in your professional cap, I must say.”
Jim sat silently and a bit dumbfounded, as the old man continued, “Still, I just don’t see you as a typical D.C. type. Somehow, I feel that you’d love to cut out all the bureaucratic hassle and just be allowed to do a good job. I just don’t see you in a desk job for the rest of your life, especially in this city. You have much higher moral and ethical standards than so many of the sycophantic trolls around here. A man like you needs some action and adventure. Don’t be surprised if something doesn’t come your way soon.
“Oh well, enough, I must leave for now. Business awaits. See you next time."
With that, the old man rose, put on his hat and quickly melted away into the pedestrian traffic.
Jim felt sure that he must have an idiotic look on his face. He said to himself, Was I just hallucinating? I swear there will be payback when I find out whoever set this up. He already had a couple of ne’er-do-well pals in mind and began to think of fitting retaliatory actions.
****
As there was no pressing work to do, there was no work at all at the moment, he leaned back in his chair and thought of his other meetings with the old man. After that first meeting, Jim had not been to the mall for several days and wondered if he might encounter the interesting old man again.
He had found an empty bench and sat down to eat his lunch. He looked around and noticed that there were not so many people out today. That was a surprise. It was overcast and rather cool for the season leading him to think that this was probably the reason the place was so deserted.
Just then, a small gust of cold wind blew the napkin from his lap. It tumbled to the ground and started to blow away. Jim had to move quickly to retrieve it. He picked up the offending item and returned to the bench. Just then, he saw the old man approaching from towards the Smithsonian.
He sat down next to Jim and began, “Hello, Dr. Slater. I hope that you don’t mind my joining you again today. Nice to see you again.”
The old man opened the newspaper that he had been carrying and glanced at the headlines. “Congressman indicted for tax fraud and racketeering. Last week, the excitement was all about some high-powered member of the government spending thousands of our dollars on his latest mistress.”
He shook his head sadly and said, “We have reached a sad state of affairs here. Illegal behavior is not only tolerated, it seems to be expected. Maybe we should just be called, the United States of Corruption. It seems that the hard-working, honest people in this country have been forgotten in halls of government.”
He continued, “Votes are bought and sold. Favors are given and
taken. Careers made or ruined. Billions of dollars wasted on worthless programs and projects. I don't feel that there is much hope for the future."
Jim thought for a moment and then replied, “I agree with all the things that are wrong with this country; but I don't agree that there is no hope for the future. I believe that the vast majority of our people have respect for the Constitution, obey the laws of the land, and try to improve their lives honestly. We can still make changes through the ballot box. All we need is to open the public’s eyes so that they will demand honesty and accountability from their leaders.”
The old man stared out at the mall and said, “The people seem all too happy to accept the corruption as normal for politicians, so long as the politicians are giving them what they want. When I was growing up, there was more of a sense of community and responsibility to that community. Today, it seems as though people are only concerned with their personal welfare. They concentrate on rights and ignore responsibility.”
Looking around and waving his hand in a great sweeping motion, the old man continued, “I agree with you that many still believe in our country and its great heritage of freedom. However, I’m afraid that too many people have become apathetic. Our freedom came from the heroism and patriotism of our founding fathers. Now, it is our duty to protect and cherish it.”
Jim had all intentions of pursuing the conversation, but just then, he noted the time and knew that Rudy would be waiting for him. “Let’s continue this conversation next time, and I sincerely hope that there will be a next time.”
The old man nodded in silence and continued to sit, motionless, on the bench.
On that day, the ride back to the office had been uneventful except for the frightening moment when a tourist reading his guidebook to Washington stepped in front of them. Rudy had to slam on the brakes. However, being the gentleman that he was, Rudy just smiled and waved at the offender. No obscenities or single finger salutes from him.
Back in his office, Jim checked his emails and phone messages as usual. Nothing exciting there and he was not at all surprised. He dug into his rather boring work and watched the clock slowly tick off the minutes.
****
Even as the clock neared 3:00 PM, Jim still had nothing pending. He continued to try to unravel the mystery of the old man. Their conversations were always animated and covered a wide range of topics like politics, current events, science, history, and even their backgrounds. Strangely, Jim came to feel that they were very much alike in spite of the years that separated them.
They met on a rather sporadic basis over the next few weeks, and Jim was always amazed that the old man just seemed to appear out of nowhere.
Jim had to admit that he had grown quite fond of this old character. He was well educated and had traveled the world. With all his intelligence and knowledge, he seemed to be a Renaissance man.
Jim remembered one conversation, in particular, which had caused him to laugh out loud. They had been talking about growing up in the South. The old man recalled that, in his day, well brought up people just did not discuss certain topics, namely sex. He and his friends had long wondered about the mysteries of femininity and how they could learn to be suave lady killers.
These deep conversations had taken place in an old barn currently inhabited by a few rats and a lone barn owl. Tom had sneaked half a package of Lucky Strikes from his father’s coat pocket, and the boys were now feeling quite sophisticated in between their paroxysms of coughing. No one would admit that this was obviously a filthy habit and much overrated by the adults.
It was after one of these secret sessions that his father called him into his sitting room for a serious conversation. At first, Tom thought that he was about to be punished for stealing the cigarettes. It was not to be. His father began by saying, “Son, you will be a man soon, and there are things that we must discuss before that day comes.” Tom was ecstatic. It would be the highly anticipated topic of “the birds and the bees.” Finally, all about women! Sex! Hooray! At last!
His father continued in a very serious and rather pompous voice, “Son, you will soon begin to notice that you are growing hair on your face. You will need to learn how to shave. It is of utmost importance that you always move the razor with the grain of your beard. Never, ever shave against the grain or you will be sorry.”
With that, the conversation was over, and his father waved him away in dismissal. Young Tom nodded his head solemnly and realized that “it," sex, would never be on the menu for their discussion. Tom knew that his father just couldn’t broach that taboo subject. It just wasn’t done back then in that time and place.
Jim had responded with memories of his childhood. He had one older sister who looked down on him with the obvious scorn and distaste that only a teenage girl could perfect. He seemed to be a veritable thorn in the side of her social existence. A lowly maggot. She tried to make sure that he was absent whenever she had a boyfriend over, and not to mention when she had one of her marathon conversations on the telephone. Jim would surreptitiously pick up the extension phone and listen to the giggling and gossip.
One such occasion practically ended in certain death for him. In the midst of his sister’s very in-depth description of her current love, he had burst out laughing. His sister had thrown the phone down and rushed into his room with a high-heeled shoe clutched tightly in her hand. With that burning fury in her eyes, the shoe could certainly be used as a lethal weapon. Jim gave a weak smile and moved toward the door in case he needed to escape. She had looked him straight in the eye and promised, through clenched teeth, that he would die a long and painful death if he ever crossed her again. He didn’t.
Jim and his sister both loved their parents. They were well-educated teachers at the local high school, who provided them with a thirst for knowledge and a substantial home library of everything from the classics to the current Life magazine. They taught their children the importance of education and that they should never lose their desire to learn.
Just as important, they emphasized responsibility and accountability in all things. Jim later came to realize that several of his friends had not received the same indoctrination regarding behavior. They paid for the error of their ways by being restricted to the principal’s office while Jim and the rest of the class were out playing some sport or other after school.
Looking back, Jim realized what a fortunate existence he had in growing up. He was given the foundation that would give him the skills to face and overcome life's challenges no matter how impossible they might seem.
Little did he know that such a challenge was headed his way at that very moment. It was going to be a challenge that would certainly make up for all those hours of boredom—and a whole lot more!
Chapter 5
A Key Supporting Player
“Individual commitment to a group effort—that is what makes a team work, a company work, a society work, a civilization work.” - Vince Lombardi
On the other side of the world, a solitary man began a journey that would result in a discovery that would stun the entire world.
Akiro Matsumoto, a Japanese amateur astronomer, was thrilled that the weather forecast for Honshu would be clear for the next several days. Next, he checked with the Japan Meteorological Agency to confirm the forecast. It was correct! He was ecstatic. Usually, by this time of the year, the rainy season had already begun, but this year, he could make one last trip to Hirogawara. Then, there would be unrelenting bad weather for about six weeks.
Akiro hummed as he prepared for the trip to his cabin on Mount Kita-dake, to the west of Tokyo. He packed his clothing and gear carefully, along with sufficient fresh food for several days. He kept warm clothes and dried and canned food at his cabin, so he would be traveling light. Even in June, the nights would be very cold, so he threw in his prized Heli arctic parka. Originally, the arctic parka had been designed for professional helicopter pilots in far northern Canada where the brutal weather was the norm and emergencies were freq
uent. It had been an expensive purchase, but he didn’t care. That coat kept him comfortable even on the most frightfully cold nights.
Akiro was wealthy by any standard. As a young man, he had established a small business for manufacturing semiconductor equipment. It grew quickly during the boom days of the sixties and seventies. In the mid-eighties, a giant technology company bought the business from him. His share of the purchase price made him a very rich man. He immediately retired and began to pursue his first love: astronomy.
He loved the mountains but opted to buy a condominium in western Tokyo. From there, he could access the mountains easily but he could still be in the big city with its great public transportation, entertainment, and fine shopping. He did love his creature comforts as much as anyone.
The condo was ultra-modern with sleek furniture of the most elegant and simple lines. Floor-to-ceiling windows provided breathtaking views of the city, especially at night when he enjoyed relaxing on his small balcony with his favorite sake.
After settling into his condo, he began his search for a proper place to view the night sky—a rather daunting task since the light pollution from Tokyo had become much worse in the last few years. After months of searching, he found the perfect spot: a reasonable distance from Tokyo and relatively close to the summit of Mount Kita, the second highest mountain in Japan.
The site that he selected was on a mountain slope above the tiny, traditional village of Hirogawara. The villagers were a close-knit group going back many generations, and he knew that he would always be known as an irbito, a newcomer. He might obtain acceptance into the community, but he would never be allowed intimate access to their most important traditions and ceremonies.
He knew what he would have to do. He made friends with the village elders and showed the utmost respect for their traditions. Akiro spent many weekends building his credibility and establishing himself as a person worthy of their trust. Eventually, he humbly asked permission to build his cabin. Obviously, the cabin would be consistent with the village homes and would reflect the culture of the area.