Chapter Seventeen
An unusual feature that was to come into the design of the Wendelson Building fairly late on in the time scale of the overall construction project was the rooftop waterfall. It was Marcel Chin’s idea, and having had so much of the initial creative input for the structure taken away from him by Garnet’s precise first brief, it was a decorative feature of which he felt both rightly proud but also inordinately possessive. To have such a major decorative feature only reveal itself so late on in a build is not without its precedents: the landmark golden globe which proudly sits atop the Al Faisaliah building in Riyadh was only added as an afterthought, when much of the rest of the structure had already been built to a specification which had not accounted for this massive new addition. Chin’s concept was perhaps even more ambitious in its design. Although only half the drop of Angel Falls in Venezuela, the artificial cascade that Chin was secretly hoping would be named after him, would find a place for itself fairly high up the list of world’s tallest waterfalls, and at 555 metres - the proposed final height of the rooftop of the Wendelson Building - would certainly be the highest man-made falls in the world, and only 100 feet short of Dudhsagar Falls, the tallest waterfall to be found anywhere on the Asian continent.
One difficulty that had to be overcome in respect of the descending torrent of water was just where the downpour would fall to earth: it is all perfectly fine for more than 100,000 cubic feet per second of water to carry itself over Niagara Falls when it has the expansive basin of the Niagara River to empty itself into, and fine for the Carrao River to drop almost a mile vertically over Angel Falls when it is surrounded by dense rain forest and has the myriad tributaries of the Gran Sabana to disperse into, but a city centre waterfall of grand dimensions had the potential for being a nuisance. The problem was actually not as great had the Wendelson Building been located in a different position, but the building being constructed on Yanggak Island it was hoped that the greater part of the flow could be persuaded to spill directly into the Taedong River, something that appealed to the aesthetic sensibilities of Chin as much as it did to the practically-minded Carver. A model of the proposed tower and cascade were tested under worst case scenario conditions of wind and weather, and although under extreme conditions there was the likelihood of pedestrians along both Otan Kangan Street and Chongbaek Esplanade receiving an unexpected soaking, and in particularly high winds even the wealthy theatre-goers at the Pyongyang Grand Theatre were not safe from a deluge, it was decided that this was a small price to pay for the opportunity of adding such a unique and characterful feature to the top of an already one-of-a-kind building. Chin was delighted and, typically, was unable to disguise his enthusiasm and emotion.
“It will be a tour de force. Chin Cascade. It has a nice ring to it, do you not think, Garnet?”
Garnet was staring out of the window from his hotel suite, listening to the sound of the ship’s horns in the harbour, and reflecting upon the numerous changes he had witnessed in Pyongyang’s cityscape in the two years of his more-or-less permanent residence in the capital of New Korea, and particularly admiring the breathtaking spiral tower, which now dominated the southern approaches to the city, and which possessed his name: he had achieved his lifetime goal, all but for a few final papers to be signed, and some minor decorative details - of which he considered the rooftop waterfall to be one - to be completed. He had built the tallest building in the world. Despite the official day of inauguration - 1st May 2009, and the anniversary of its creator’s 78th birthday - still being two weeks away, the Wendelson Building was already cited in most of the authorised lists as the possessor of the accolade that Garnet had for so long craved. The 450 metre mark of the Petronas Towers had been reached almost a year ago now, and then, little by little, the building had added on the extra footage, to first overcome the height of the Ostankino Tower in Moscow, then the unfinished Daniel Libeskind construction on the Ground Zero site, and finally, just in the last few weeks, with the addition of the sloping rooftop gallery and terrace, to supplant the position previously held by the CN Tower in Toronto, of being the tallest structure, of any kind, anywhere in the world. Of course, it would not be until the official day of inauguration that any of the statistics would really count, but for Garnet the wonder was what stood before him: the beautiful bricks and mortar construction was a reality for all the world to see.
Distracted from his daydreaming, and wheeling his chair around in an arc, away from the view, Garnet was aware that Chin was still speaking, the Laotian’s voice even more obsequious than usual, “I was just wondering. Inauguration is only a few days...”
“Thirteen,” Garnet corrected.
“Thirteen days away,” Chin continued, “And I am sure that you will be very busy on the actual day. Guests to greet, that sort of thing, am I right?”
“What is it Marcel?” asked Garnet, impatiently.
“I was just wondering if I might be allowed to press the button, on the day, to turn on the first waters of Chin Cascade? A ceremonial thing, you understand. To mark my contribution to the whole project, if you like. What do you think, Garnet?”
Garnet smiled thinly. He enjoyed his position of power when he was able to either grant or deny a fellow human being’s wishes, particularly when - as was the case in this instance - the outcome of his decision was of no consequence to him in either case. He imagined it must be something akin to how a high court judge feels upon passing sentence, or better still, a Roman emperor presiding at the Colosseum, his thumb poised: will it be up, or will it be down? Garnet was perfectly happy to grant Chin his wish, but nevertheless he decided to string him along a bit; it would not do for the architect to get too big for his boots. “Marcel, I think you already know that the whole schedule for 1st May has already been decided. It has taken a great deal of planning on the part of a great number of people to insure that all the invited dignitaries are happy with their functions on the day. I really do not think it will be possible to alter arrangements at this late date.”
“But...”
“And about that name, Chin Cascade, I don’t think that was ever officially agreed, was it? I have been thinking about it again, and I have come to the conclusion that Lucille Falls, after my dear, late mother, would be more appropriate. I am sure that you would agree?”
“But...”
Garnet waved a hand towards the speechless man, “Now I am sure that you have better things to be doing than standing here chatting to me. It’s not what I am paying you for. Besides, I want some time for myself.” Garnet’s attitude softened somewhat as he saw the crestfallen expression on Chin’s face as he realised that he was being dismissed. He fully intended to allow the architect to have both his watery creation named after himself and for the Laotian to be the one to commence the geyser on the day of inauguration, and he would inform him of such in a day or two, but for the moment he could not resist leaving the poor unfortunate in suspense. “We’ll talk more about this next week, but for now, please leave me alone.” Garnet spun his wheelchair around, so that once again his back was presented towards Chin. “Replace the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door on your way out.”
Left alone, Garnet’s thoughts did leap ahead to the proposed itinerary for the inauguration day of the Wendelson Building, the most important event of which was to be the ascent that he would make - ably assisted by the loyal Martin, who had been in intensive training for several months now - up the external, spiral ramp of the structure, culminating in him fixing a small, specially engraved plaque on a small monument on the roof of the building. Garnet had envisaged this as a private moment, one for him to quietly celebrate his personal triumph, to be witnessed and shared only by his attendant Martin, whom he felt would have more than earned his place at this small moment of history, by the undoubted physical exertion it would cost him to manually propel a man and a wheelchair over a third of a mile into the sky. It was a pleasing thought to know that - builders as
ide - he would be the first person to witness the view from the top of his new tower. It was the case with most skyscrapers that the lower floors were already being tenanted, long before the final build was completed; in many cases it was a financial necessity that this was so, even to the point where the structure could not be completed without the income generated from the first rents having been received. Garnet had been in the fortunate position of being able to build his tower as a purely philanthropic endeavour: none of the lower floors had been leased in advance of inauguration. Indeed Garnet had made no attempt to encourage potential occupants: rather than a man with the tallest building in the world on his hands to fill, he was behaving more like the hermit who has one small spare bedroom which he keeps filled with junk to make sure he will not receive unwelcome guests.
At some point in the duration of his stay in Pyongyang Garnet had decided to organise the shipment of a few possessions from his Park Avenue apartment, in order to make the hotel suite feel rather more homely. One item, which had rather bizarrely made the long journey across both the whole continental expanse of the United States and then the wide, watery wilderness of the Pacific Ocean was the portrait of Garnet’s father, Jacob Wendelson, although whether as a result of a specific request by the Wendelson heir, or purely a whim of the member of staff who maintained his New York abode, it was unclear. The clear, blue eyes, continued to stare out from the canvas, still youthful and apparently unaffected by the passing decades, but Garnet had lined up the picture in such a way that their gaze would look directly across from the wall of his hotel room, out of the window opposite, to rest upon the building which he had constructed and which formed his legacy to the Wendelson name. Garnet studied the eyes of his father minutely. He no longer saw scorn reflected back in the brutal, long-familiar expression, but neither was he convinced that he saw pride yet either.
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