by Paul Byers
“Boy I’d hate to pay the electric bill for this place.” Pike said.
Spoken like the true, practical engineer that you are.” Cain laughed.
Just then, Pike saw an usher dressed in a tuxedo that looked better than his come over to them. “Mr. Cain.” He said, bowing his head slightly. “If you and your party would please follow me, I’ll take you to your table.”
As they followed, it seemed like someone greeted them from each table as they passed. Even in his short journey into this world of movers and shakers, Pike was beginning to be able to tell which greetings were sincere and which were purely self- motivated.
When they reached the table, there was already a man seated there and he rose as they approached. Mallory reached out and took his hands and gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. “Gabe, this is my husband Tom. Tom, Gabriel Pike. Pike held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
They all sat down, Pike next to Tom with Mallory in the middle and Cain on the other side.
With the initial shock worn off, Pike began to survey his surroundings. They were at a fundraiser for one of the local children’s charities and there were more balloons floating around than the Macy’s day parade and enough stuffed animals to fill Noah’s Ark twice over. At the main entrance, they had passed two huge gumball machines towering eight feet above the floor, guarding the door like giant, multicolored sentinels.
The table centerpieces were a wide array of baseballs, footballs, ballerinas, cute animals, building blocks and generally a hodge-podge of anything related to children. Each one had a different theme and a price tag to be sold at the end of the evening. He thought about buying one for K.D. and mailing it back to her but decided against it for two reasons-first, if he sent her a present that was kid-themed, she might get the wrong idea and second, the price tags. Even though he knew it was for a worthy cause, he decided he would rather make his car payment than buy a centerpiece. He would send K.D. a key chain of the Statue of Liberty instead.
“So tell me Gabe, what do you think of New York so far?” Tom asked as everyone was being seated.
“Well to tell you the truth, I haven’t seen that much of it, mostly just the insides of meeting halls and conference rooms.”
Just then a scream filled the room, piercing the chatter like the whistle of a train piercing the silence in the middle of the night. All heads turned to see one of the waiters ripping a diamond necklace from one of the guests and race toward the door. Everyone was stunned, as nobody expected a robbery at such a glamorous affair. Cain and Pike both sprang to their feet but they were too far away to do anything; even an Olympic sprinter couldn’t catch him from here.
Pike watched the man as he dashed down the side of the room. One elderly man stood and tried to stop him but was shoved down by the thief like a linebacker tearing through the secondary. As he watched the man run, for some strange reason Pike focused on the centerpieces and suddenly had an idea. He reached down and grabbed one of the baseballs from the centerpiece on the table in front of him. As he picked it up, he noticed it was autographed by Alex Rodrigues. He smiled. He never did like A-Rod much after he left the Mariners.
Pike threw the ball for all he was worth, like a centerfielder gunning down a greedy base runner trying to make it to home plate. The ball sailed by the thief’s head and hit the giant gumball machine on the right side of the door. The glass shattered and thousands of tiny gumballs spilled onto the floor. When the would-be thief’s feet hit the gumballs, he upended, his legs flying up in the air going in two separate directions. The whole scene looked like a stunt from a Hollywood movie. The thief landed hard with a loud thud, hitting his head in the floor and falling unconscious, the necklace still clutched in his hand.
The room was in stunned silence for a moment when it suddenly erupted in spontaneous applause at Pike’s marksmanship. Within moments, security arrived and dragged the man off.
“I’m impressed.” Mallory said, nodding in approval.
“Don’t be,” Pike replied, holding his arm. “I was aiming for him, not the gumball machine.”
Cain roared with laughter. “I was kidding about putting your face on the clock earlier, but after that, I don’t know,” he said, patting Pike on the back. “Any doubts the public might have had about you being a one hit wonder have just been erased. You’re now the real deal Gabriel Pike.”
Instantly Pike wished he hadn’t thrown the ball.
Chapter Fourteen
Pike awoke with a start as his head banged against the side of the fuselage. He was still walking in the swirling mist, straddling the borderline with one foot in reality and the other still in sleep. It was that critical moment when he had a fifty-fifty chance of returning to his dream or waking up to face the challenges of the real world.
Suddenly his head banged against the wall a second time, shattering his dreamscape and propelling him into reality. He was disoriented for a brief moment, but thanks to the second jolt, his memories quickly returned.
One thing he didn’t need reminding of was that he was tired. For the last two days he had been living in a haze, his fifteen minutes of fame had stretched into a good hour and a half. During that time he felt like he had been on the campaign trail, running for President of the United States. He’d been everywhere from press conferences held at Cain’s corporate high rise to a meeting in front of city hall. In fact, he thought he had even met the mayor, or was it the governor? For sure he had met a Senator, maybe? At this point he wasn’t sure about all the names and faces that were jumbled into a heap in his brain. The one thing he was certain of was that he felt like he’d shaken hands with half of New York City and he’d smiled so much his cheeks hurt.
Oh, but how could he forget about the baseball? His memory teased. Someone at the event had a cell phone and had taken his picture just as he was throwing the ball. The headlines the next day read that the Yankees or Mets could sure use an arm like his in the bullpen next season.
Thankfully the campaign trail was over as they left early the next morning with surprisingly little fanfare; at last they were finally heading out to the iceberg so he could do the job he’d been hired to do.
The first part of the journey had the usual Cain flair, flying in his private 747 that was more opulent than most 5 star hotels and so was the food. All of it looked like it had come from one of those reality-cooking shows and it tasted even better than it looked. It sure beat those little bags of peanuts on a commercial airliner or the juice pouches he had on the Yankee Clipper. But all the fame was beginning to have a bad side effect. The economy may be shrinking but his waistline sure wasn’t. All the wonderful food was just too tempting to say no to. But he was confident that he would work it off once he started running all over the iceberg; at least that’s what he kept telling himself.
The flight to Reykjavik, Iceland, had been quiet and uneventful—that is until they landed. They were met with a reception fit for a visiting head of state: it seems he had become an international celebrity by now. Cain said he had nothing to do with it but Pike knew better. Fortunately they were only in Reykjavik for one night.
And now here he was, on the second part of the journey— again—traveling in typical Cain style. Pike didn’t know how or where, but Cain had managed to get his hands on an old Sikorsky H-34 Choctaw helicopter. Inside it had been heavily modified to accommodate six people in great comfort and luxury, and all new avionics had been installed throughout. Cain had beautifully re-stored the outside, staying true to its vintage 1950’s origin with polished aluminum finish and yellow bands wrapping around the rear boom, matching the colors of the Yankee Clipper.
Cain said it wouldn’t be right to have the ‘Blast from the Past’ arriving on a sleek, modern helicopter. No, the swashbuckling hero needed to arrive on his own trusted steed. You have to give the public what they expect, he always said. Since the Clipper couldn’t land on the iceberg, this was the next best thing. So here
he was, wearing his leather jacket and yes, his white scarf, riding in a 50-year-old-plus helicopter preparing to land on one of the most technologically advanced wonders of the world-just another day at the office.
Pike stood and stretched the best he could in the helicopter’s small cabin. Though it was comfortable and well appointed, it was still small and he banged his head for a third time then plopped back down in his seat. Mallory got up from her seat on the other side of the cabin and sat beside him.
“Being short does have its advantages,” she said.
Pike smiled as he rubbed his head.
“Would you like some coffee?” She asked.
“Yes, please.”
Mallory got up and took the two steps to the front of the cabin and returned shortly with two cups of coffee and a sweet roll on a sterling silver platter.
“What, no stewardess on this flight?” Pike said jokingly.
“Actually, we had one, but she ate something in Reykjavik that disagreed with her so she couldn’t make the flight; so we’ll just have to make do.” Mallory smiled then handed Pike his coffee. “French Vanilla creamer and one sugar.”
“You know more about me than if we were married.” Pike shook his head as he took the coffee. “Kind of scary.”
“Don’t worry Gabe, I don’t know everything about you.”
“Ah, good, you’re awake.” Cain said, coming down from the cockpit. “We’re here.”
Instantly a bolt of excitement shot through Pike like a child waking up on Christmas morning. Cain nodded his head to the left and Pike nearly threw his cup down on the tray as he sprang up and rushed to the other side of the cabin. The sight was breathtaking.
Pike had seen all the drawings and the model Cain had painstakingly made but none of those could hold a candle to the sight of the real thing. It was like watching the Seahawks on TV. He enjoyed the game, but there was no substitute for being at Qwest Field in person. Hearing the actual roar of the crowd, smelling the hot dogs and popcorn, feeling the excitement as it shot through the fans when the Hawks scored a touchdown. Television gave you the game, not the experience.
It was a glistening white block, floating in an ocean that was the deepest blue he had ever seen, adding all the more to the contrasts and richness of the colors. If you would have shown him this scene in a photograph he would swear that colors could not be this vivid and bright without being airbrushed; yet here they were.
Pike wiped the window with his sleeve for a third time as he pressed his face against the glass for a better view. Just like in the model, he saw the three tugs surrounding the massive block of ice, but as the helicopter circled, he saw something on the back corner of the iceberg that caught his eye.
“Is that the Yankee Clipper down there?” Pike asked, turning to Cain is disbelief.
Cain smiled, “Sure is.”
“But how? Why?”
“The how was easy. Right after you landed, I called your boss and explained what I wanted to do and he loved the idea. I called in a favor from a General friend of mine at the Pentagon and the Army was kind enough to loan us a Chinook to haul her out here. The why, that’s easy too. Can you think of a better way to inaugurate this project than to have you take off in your jet in the middle of New York harbor?”
“How am I going to do that? You didn’t turn the Clipper into a Harrier did you? Concern laced Pike’s question, afraid that Cain had modified his beloved plane.
Cain noticed the concerned look on his quest’s face. “Relax Gabriel. Again the solution is the blending of technologies. In the 1950’s during the Cold War, military planners knew that airfields would be a prime target for the Soviets if war ever broke out. Test flights were conducted to determine the feasibility of launching aircraft without the use of conventional runways from mobile launchers, the experiments were called ZEL or zero length launch. The concept was really pretty basic. They simply attached a rocket engine to the fuselage, pointed it into the air and launched it. After it was airborne the aircraft’s own engine took over. We’ve modernized the system but being it’s attached to The Blast from the Past’s airplane,” Cain smiled at Pike, “the equipment is as ascetically close to original looking as we could get it.”
Pike nodded in approval, satisfied that his plane was still in one piece. He quickly fell back into his child-like wonder as he gazed back out the window. “Is that a pool down there?
“Yes, warmed to a balmy 85 degrees. And at the stern, that green patch there is a driving range. Being at 25 plus feet above the ocean will make anyone’s drive look like Tiger Woods’. Do you play golf, Gabriel?”
“When my Dad retired, he took up golf in a big way and played for about ten or twelve years. I played with him occasionally, but the few times that I managed to hit the ball straight weren’t enough to keep me playing. I figured why pay good money to chase a stupid little white ball around and get myself frustrated. How about you?”
“In the corporate world, the golf course is often used as the boardroom or the negotiation table so you could call it one of the job requirements. I can hold my own but at 6-4; I’d rather pick up a good game of hoops.”
“Please take your seats, we’re preparing to land,” the pilot announced.
Cain sat down beside Mallory but Pike stayed where he was and continued staring out the window. They slowly descended and swung out wide and came in over the stern of the iceberg. “I’ve been out here over a dozen times during the construction yet I never get tired of looking at it.” Cain said.
Pike was amazed at the small city Cain had constructed on top of the giant slab of ice. It looked like a miniaturized version of Las Vegas. The main casino building was fitted with mirrored plate glass that reflected the sky and ocean, giving an almost transparent look to the building. The gambling hall was also covered with the obligatory neon lights that flashed, blinked and pulsated. In front of the casino, were the living quarters and office spaces, all decorated with splashes of color reminiscent of an art decor painting by one of the Masters.
The most dominant feature of the skyline was the three-story monolith that rose from near the bow. It was white, with black stripes running around it, giving it the appearance of a New England lighthouse. It added all the more to the planned oddity and yet familiarity of this mini-Vegas, where on one intersection of its larger namesake, you have a medieval castle, across the street from an ancient pyramid that was kitty corner to a miniature replica of New York City.
As the chopper made its final approach, Pike could see the reporters standing under the palm trees. Palm trees on an iceberg Pike thought, shaking his head. “I see the lions are here.” Pike said pointing at the reporters. He recognized the young female reporter from the airport and a couple of other reporters from all the press conferences he’d attended during the last few days and then he saw his archenemy, Toupee Man.
“Isn’t there anything more newsworthy for them to cover?” Instantly Pike cringed at his words. What Cain was doing with this iceberg truly was newsworthy; how conceited of him to automatically think they were here just to talk to the great Blast from the Past. They were here to talk to Cain about his amazing project.
“I’m sorry Mr. Cain, I didn’t mean…”
Cain smiled and raised his hand. “It’s alright Gabriel, I know what you meant. The press can be tiring but we need them on our side. And besides, they had better be here; I paid for all their airfares.”
“You’ve come a long way in handling the press Gabe,” Mallory said, “but I know you’re still uncomfortable with them. Don’t worry, you’ll still have to field a few questions but Nigel and I will handle the bulk of the interviews.”
“About the interviews,” Pike began, “I have an idea I would like to run by you later.”
Cain looked at Pike, a coy smile coming to his face. “I don’t know what you have in mind Gabriel, but from the look on your face, I like it.”
Just then they felt a soft jolt as the wheels touched down. “We’ll ta
lk more on this later, but for now, it’s show time,” Cain said as he put on his practiced smile and threw open the door.
Chapter Fifteen
Pike felt his breath being sucked away as he stepped out of the helicopter, going from the warm, 75-degree heat of the cabin to the frigid 28-degree cold of the arctic air. The small crowd of reporters looked like a group of chain smokes as wisps of stream rose with each breath, creating their own fog bank.
Cain walked up to the small stage and podium that had been set up and Mallory and Pike followed, standing off to his right. He waited until the last swoosh of the rotor blade stopped before he greeted the reporters.
“Thank you all for coming,” he started out, “but then again, I suppose you had better be here since I paid for your tickets.” Despite the cold, laughter filtered through the crowd. “I’ll try and keep this brief and field just a few questions as I’m sure everyone is tired from their long journey. There will be plenty of time later to answer everyone’s questions.
“Mr. Cain,” one reporter shouted out, “Now that you’re standing on your dream that has finally become a reality, can you tell us how you feel?”
“I said I wanted to keep this short.” Cain replied, smiling. He stood there, silent for a moment, taking a deep breath before he answered. “I have been very blessed and have had many milestones over the years, but I would have to say that this will be, no, this is,” he corrected himself, “my crowning achievement.”
“Mr. Cain,” another voice rang out. “We all know that the safety inspection on this project is just a formality. Isn’t Mr. Pike’s being here just another one of your famous publicity stunts?”
Pike was busy watching a pair of seagulls fighting over a small fish and not paying much attention to the questions until he heard his name being mentioned. He immediately snapped back to the moment and focused on the question and the person who asked it, Toupee Man. Pike wondered what he had ever done to the man for him to have such a grudge against him?
