by Ed Nelson
“I don’t recommend that the US buys one, there is enough land left that I think you should buy part of it and build your Embassy there.”
“I suppose you own that land?”
“Yes, I do, and it is for sale.”
Bobby curiously asked, “How many arms and legs are you asking?”
“I’m offering twenty-five acres to the United States for one dollar.”
The President and his brother both spoke up at the same time, “What swamp is it located on?” and “We will take it.”
“No swamp, good solid building land and sold.”
“I’ll make arrangements. I suggest you ask Chairman Deng as to which construction company to use, then have plenty of people there to ensure they don’t have too many spy devices implanted in the building.”
“We will do that.”
“I also should share that the Chinese intend to develop a hard currency.”
“How do you know that?”
“I was asked to quiz some experts on how to do it.”
“Where we these experts from?”
“The London School of Economics.”
“You are full of surprises Mr. Jackson.”
“Just the right place at the right time, I do have a vested interest in their successful opening of China.”
“That’s right you are upgrading their ports.”
“That, and they are into me for a hundred and fifty million dollars right now.”
“I thought it was two-fifty.”
“I forgave the first hundred.”
“I think I know why the Chinese like you. Do you want to loan the US any?”
“Not particularly. You will just waste it on social projects to buy long-term votes.”
“From that, I gather you would loan it to a Republican administration.”
“No, they would waste it on unneeded construction projects for their donors.”
“An equal opportunity cynic, I like that.”
“I like to think I’m a realist.”
“That you are my boy, that you are.”
That comment ended our meeting, I left on a much higher note than when I entered.
I returned to the hotel and took a nap. When I woke it was time to get cleaned up and dressed for the evening.
When I came out in full uniform, Sally who was entering at the same time as I was, stopped dead. So, did I. She is gorgeous in an innocent-looking way.
I told her so. She replied that she had never seen such a costume as I wore. Did I borrow it from the wardrobe department and if so why? People would know it was just a costume.
I thought Harold who was standing there would die.
“No this is all real. I’m a Colonel in the Coldstream Guards. All these medals are the real thing.”
“Oh,” she said in a suddenly small voice.”
It was time to go so I offered her my hand and we descended to the lobby. There we were the center of attention. The papa-rats-eye were out in force. They crowed us to snap pictures.
Poor Sally was so small that they kept pushing her around to get better camera angles. Tired of all the jostling around I swept her up into a Princess carry and bulled my way through.
Our limo was waiting for the short drive to the White House. It was a Presidential car driven by the secret service, so we didn’t have to stop at a gate.
At the entrance, I was asked if I had my normal weapons. I told them no, only my sword. The agent laughed and said, “I don’t think we will be too concerned about that.
I think he was being too sanguine about my sword; it was the real deal made by Wilkinson. With my height and reach I could draw it and make a killing lunge at someone fifteen feet away.
I hoped I didn’t have too tonight. The blood would ruin my uniform.
As with all events like this, there was a reception line. First the President and First Lady, then Empress Ping with a translator standing slightly behind her.
I held out a hand and started to say, “Mr. President.”
He interrupted me with, “Call me, John.”
“Yes, Sir, Mr. President.”
He laughed at that. I introduced him and Jackie to Sally. I noticed he held her hand longer than needed. So did Jackie. I wondered what their marriage was like.
Next was Empress Ping.
She hugged me and had me introduce Sally.
“Sally take good care of this young man. As you can see, he is worth a great deal to both of our countries.”
“Rick, I would like to thank you for the use of the aircraft, your hotel suite, and introductions to General MacArthur and President Hoover.”
“The President is going to be unbelievably valuable in our conversations with your country going forward. Speaking of countries, I would like to meet with Queen Elizabeth in the not-too-distant future. We would like to store gold with the Bank of England. Would you arrange that?”
“The gold, or the Queen?”
“Both of them, if you would.”
“My pleasure.”
After that, we mingled for a while, mainly with the British Ambassador who wanted an update on things. I told him what I knew and let him know that I would also offer land for an Embassy in Beijing to Her Majesty for one dollar.
“No old boy, not the done thing, it must be sold to the Foreign Office.”
“I could do that at full price, ten million dollars an acre.”
He turned away and didn’t speak to me again.
Our table was halfway down from the head table so that was the last interesting conversation I had for the evening.
Chapter 29
There was the usual fawning over Lord Blackhoof at the dinner. What is it with Americans and nobility? They had a war to get rid of them, and now they can’t get enough of them.
Sally stood quietly by my side. She held herself well as though she were the queen, and they were there to pay her homage.
I even mentioned that to her on the way back to the hotel. She let me know that she was miserable the whole evening. She wasn’t comfortable with any of those snobs.
“You sure didn’t show it.”
“Of course not, I’m an actress.”
“You gave a terrific performance.”
“Thank you, and it is my last one for that audience. You will have to find another plus one. I find I prefer the cowboy types. I thought you were one, but you are only acting.”
I was sorry to hear that on several levels.
When we got back to the hotel, we had a guest waiting in our room. The hotel had let her in. It was Empress Ping.
“Rick, it went well this evening and I thank you. The Americans have given us more than we asked for. They have extended a line of credit of one hundred million dollars to us, which is much more than we need.”
“Are you going to take it?”
“Silly boy, of course, we are taking it. There is a loan I would like to start to pay off.”
At times I’m a little slow.
“What loan.”
She sighed and turned to Sally. “Sometimes I forget how dense men can be.”
“Your loan. After this, we will only owe you fifty million. I’m sure we can talk the French or Germans out of that so we can repay you completely.”
Sally wasn’t aware of this, so her eyes were wide.
She spoke up, “Rick, I need to marry you or run. I think I will run. This isn’t my life.”
Empress Ping changed the subject.
“I know you have to get back to California tomorrow. Can I ride with you, then continue to China?”
How can you say no to an Empress?
The next day before we left for the airport I put in a call to London. I informed Mr. Norman that China wanted to proceed with shipping one thousand tons of gold to the Bank of England as a guarantee of good faith support for the yuan.
Also, the Empress would like to arrange a meeting with Queen Elizabeth as soon as possible. Sally who was standing right there pretended to ignore i
t all. I think this is what they call culture shock. Thinking back two years ago I would have never dreamed of this life.
We had a pleasant trip to LA. The Empress entertained Sally with stories of my dry-cleaning days. She even told of the KGB’s attempts on me.
I doubted if the young lady would ever go anywhere with me, but a movie set again in her life.
We had picked up the newspapers at the airport.
The front page on my favorite Inquiring Minds Want to Know was a picture of me carrying Sally through the hotel lobby.
My first reaction was that I had better call Nina and explain what had occurred. A moment later I realized that I owed her no phone call, and this picture would show her that other girls would go for me.
I made the mistake of mentioning that to the Ladies. They exchanged looks. The Empress said, “He is still young.”
Sally nodded.
We had started a new tradition at Jackson House. Our schedule was so jammed these days that we couldn’t get together for everyone’s birthday.
To make up for this we would have a small party on the person's birthday with whoever was present in the house.
In the middle of June, we would have a grand party for all of us. Mum and Denny shared a birthdate, May 19th, she was born in 1920 and Denny in 1947. I knew how old she was because I had accidentally seen her passport once.
Well, maybe not a full accident. It was laying there open. I only had to turn one page to see her age. She was two years older than Dad. That was a shocker.
Mary was born on June 1st, 1954. Dad June 5th, 1922.
That left me on October 11th, 1944, and Eddie on December 12th, 1949. We also included Mrs. Hernandez and Ben who were on July 3rd and September 23rd.
With so many of us it is no wonder that I always had our birthdays mixed up.
The gifts on the real birthday were always small sincere gifts, even when out of town we each made certain that a gift was sent.
For the grand birthday party, we would go all out with gag gifts. Since I was now considered filthy rich I was presented with a gold plated, well, yellow-painted horse trough to bath in.
Without any consultation with each other Mary ended up with “Save the Aardvarks”, “Save the Armadillos” and “Save the Plankton” T-shirts.
Denny gave Mum a gold-plated squirt gun. That was a big mistake as she promptly disappeared and filled it.
Mum got Dad's Safari jacket with his name tag followed by Great White Hunter. The jacket fabric had the cutest kittens imprinted. Oh, and it was pink.
These were just examples of the types of gifts given. Some that Mum, Dad, Mrs. Hernandez, and Ben gave each other they wouldn’t let us see.
Mary had picked up one of the boxes and was asking, “Whats a Dil…” when it was snatched from her hands by a redfaced Mrs. Hernandez.
We had ice cream and cake, there was a pinata for the kids. When they could get it to break they asked me to put on the blindfold and take a swing.
I should have realized something was up when it took so long to cover my eyes. It was twirled around. I thought I had kept track of where I was at.
I hadn’t, it took me two wild swings to hit the “Pinata.” I didn’t know you could make a water balloon that big and not have it burst from its weight.
I swore revenge.
I don’t think anyone took me seriously as they were laughing so hard. Wait until next year.
I changed clothes and returned to the party. It had settled down. The adults were having coffee so I joined them.
Ben asked me, “Rick, what are your plans for the future. Right now you have golf, the movies, and your companies. What is the most important to you?”
“You don’t mess around with the softballs do you, Ben. I have been wondering that very thing recently. I love to play golf, I just don’t want to do it professionally.”
“I don’t plan to enter any tournaments after this year’s, but at the same time there is nothing like the pressure of playing against the greatest in the world.”
“Movies are getting to be old hat, and I mean old cowboy hat. There is no challenge in them anymore. I realize I’m a character actor, I play myself. Death Wind has won critical acclaim but it wasn’t my acting that made it, it was the director's cutting that did it.”
“I would love to do a spy movie as the lead but I don’t think that is in the cards. I think my movie days may be about over.”
“As far as my business, I have had some good ideas and been fortunate in being able to find good people to implement them. That said I’m under no illusion that I’m ready to run anything larger than a lemonade stand.”
“All that said I don’t know where I’m headed or what I want to do next. I plan to bump along and see what happens.”
Mum and Dad were listening intently but had no comment.
Mrs. Hernandez asked if I had any plans for a singing career. I just glared at her. She was high on my revenge list.
Chapter 30
The next few weeks flew by and went at a snail's pace, it is hard to explain. Each day was a repeat of the last, golf in the morning, on the set in the afternoon. They kept telling us we were going on location but never went.
I begin to wonder if the entire movie would be done on the Warner Brothers lot with the fifteen cattle they had.
Things became clear later one Monday morning in April. The original ranch that was going to be our location had foot rot throughout their herd. We couldn’t use them in the movie.
They looked all over the west to find a suitable place. Finally, in Texas near the Goodnight-Loving trail, they found a ranch.
We were given directions to the ranch. Buses were provided to those who needed a ride. I elected to fly my Cessna into the local airfield and rent a car.
It was a good thing that I worked with the studio on my travel arrangements instead of just taking off. There was no car rental agency at the airfield. The airfield was just that: a grass landing strip.
Knowing this, a car was driven up from Austin for me to use.
There was a local motel and the studio had rented almost all the rooms. Several permanent residents would be staying.
My flight was uneventful. Boring would be a better description. There was some bumpy air but nothing to write home about.
They did have t-hangars and I was able to rent one for my stay.
I checked into the hotel. When I gave my name, I was told I had a suite. Thinking that things weren’t all bad I went to my room. Their definition of a suite differed from mine. It was a large room with a kitchenette built-in, and a small table to eat at.
I had slept in much worse places, and it would only be for a couple of weeks, so I wouldn’t complain. If I did, the best I would get is a trailer hauled in. They weren’t much better than this.
I drove out to the ranch we would be shooting at. That is when it got strange. According to the signs the ranch, the Triple R Bar, was a Dude ranch!
Maybe this was their offseason and there wouldn’t be any Dudes around. Wrong. There were Dudes everywhere. You could tell them by their outfits and the way they set a horse.
Since I knew I was going to be on a working ranch I had dressed appropriately. Boots, jeans, a white hat, and a plain shirt. Nothing fancy. All comfortable work clothes. Maybe my belt buckle was a little large as it was one of my minor rodeo ones.
I drove up to the main house and parked my car in a large lot filled with what I supposed were Dudes’ cars.
As I was walking to the main office to check in a female voice shouted, “Hey you.”
I turned to face a beautiful young lady, blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin, and large, well, you get it.
She was perfect.
“My saddle won’t stay on my horse, what am I doing wrong?”
She had her horse on a lead. It was easy to see the problem as the saddle was almost upside down.
“It looks like you didn’t cinch it tight enough. The horse played a trick on you by expand
ing its belly with a deep breath. You tighten the cinch, the horse let out its breath and there you go loose saddle.
“Would you please show me how to do it right?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
I got the saddle to the point of tightening the cinch. I told her to watch the horse's sides. Sure enough, its belly swelled up. If I had tightened it then the saddle would be loose.
I kneed the horse in its side, not hard enough to hurt it, but enough that it let its breath out. That is when I quickly tightened the cinch.
The girl who had been watching me told, “Oh, I forgot that step. They did show us. Are you new here?”
“Just arriving.”
“I thought so, I have been here two weeks. My name is Karen Klima. What’s yours?
“Rick Jackson.”
“Well, Rick, we have been told not to talk to the hired hands too much, but I do thank you for your help.”
Tipping my hat, “My pleasure, Ma’am.”
This could be interesting.
She gave me a shy smile and turned to her horse.
I went on into the office. Since I had flown in, I was the first of the film crew there. The lady manning the office told me about their ranch.
It was a working ranch, and all the paying customers were expected to take part in events. There was a roundup going on to take cattle to market.
The normal procedure was to round them up, put them in a feedlot to fatten them for the market, and haul them away by a truck.
The studio was paying extra to move the cattle around so they could get their film. The Dudes would be helping the ranch cowboys do the actual moving while we actors would pose for pictures. It wasn’t expected that we could be of any use doing the work.
Once again, I thought, ‘This could be interesting.’
She told me, “At least you look the part. Can you ride a horse?”
I assured the office lady I could, I’m not certain she bought it.
I asked, “is there a local rodeo, or do you put one on here at the ranch?”
“There is one once a month at the fairgrounds. We take our customers over there on a bus to watch it. Would you like to sign up for that? It is this weekend.”
