It was starting to get annoying at this point.
"Could you at least go through your records? I'm sure you'll find something," I said to the lady at the ticket counter. "Please," I added. I was already tired and frustrated. I had come straight to the airport after a long and exhausting meeting with the board of my firm.
I had come under some scrutiny for the slow progress of some of our developments on the Turks and Caicos islands. Naturally I didn't agree that any of it was my fault. I had done everything that was expected of me. I had contacted all of our sub-contractors on time, paid the necessary money and cleared all the paperwork, and had the workers delivered to the site.
The problem was with acquiring and shipping building materials. As this was work on a cut off island, the smallest things had to be imported. This required meticulous planning and a concise drawing up of inventory at any particular point in time. And even after the materials had been acquired and put on the ship, the rest was left to the shipping company to get them delivered on time. And then sometimes, through no one's fault, an important material was missed in the first shipping and the process had to begin again.
In the last month I had been running round the country, and to and fro from the islands to make sure that everything ran smoothly. But the board of investors didn't care for that. They wanted to see the result of their investment and the turning out of their profits as soon as possible. If that didn't happen, they needed someone to blame and as I was the overall project manager, there was no one more suited to be at the receiving end of their blame.
I took it well though. These men understood nothing other than figures and they dreaded nothing more than losing out on an investment and delays were very often a bad sign. All my arguments of logistics and engineering standards to be maintained meant nothing to them. I assured them that I would do my best to speed things up once I arrived at the Island.
My planned trip to Providenciales, the biggest city in Turks and Caicos, also had a second purpose; I planned to attend the wedding of Jackson Hewitt, a college buddy of mine. The initial plan was to take the company private jet but it was currently under maintenance and as I didn't want to waste time waiting for it, I had my secretary book me a commercial flight.
I regretted this decision as I stood now before the officer at the counter, arguing the validity of the ticket my secretary had sent me.
"I'm sorry sir, but your ticket number is not on our records, I can't let you in on this plane," the officer said.
"Alright, I can pay for another ticket now, if that's what it takes. I have to be at Providenciales today," I said desperately.
"The flight is already fully booked. There's another one available next week."
"Next week?" I couldn't believe it.
"Hey buddy, mind stepping aside so this line can move?" the man behind me tapped my shoulders.
I turned around ready to explode. Then I saw it was an old man, and he looked like the type who was ready for a drawn out argument. I decided that it was not worth it. I stepped aside.
I tried reaching my secretary but her line was unreachable which only increased my frustration. The last of the passengers were boarding. I looked at the ticker officer with one last look of desperation. "Isn't there something you can do for me?"
"I'm sorry sir," she said.
I walked away from the counter crestfallen, resigning myself to at least one extra day I would have to spend in Baltimore.
I spent the night alone in my hotel room. I had considered going out but I had no idea where. And I still felt some exhaustion from my ordeals of the day, despite sleeping shortly after I returned from the airport. I decided it was ordered to stay in. I had dinner brought up with some wine.
After dinner I had another show and lay on my bed, not sure what to do with myself. I tried to watch TV but I found nothing interesting. I hated the creeping feeling of idleness. I should be at Providenciales, setting business in motion, getting things done.
I paced around the room. I went over to the window and looked over a portion of the city. When I thought of Chicago, I thought of growing up with my single mother. My father had died when I was a toddler and my mother never remarried. It had been rough. My mother worked two jobs to sustain me; in the day time she worked as a high school tutor, and for parts of the night, she was an auxiliary at the hospital. She still worked as a tutor despite how much I gave her to stop, but she was close to the official retirement age and rest.
I thought back to the days when I had grown enough to handle some things by myself. I would return from school and let myself into our one room apartment. I would then prepare dinner or warm up something my mother had prepared earlier. When my mother came home at six and before her shift at eleven, we would have dinner together, talk briefly before she went to sleep for a while.
I thought of those times now with fondness and nostalgia. We lived in relative comfort, but we both knew what it cost us. From that young age I had been determined to succeed in whatever I did so my mother could retire early and have the most comfortable life.
I was proud of what I had achieved so far. I was the youngest architecture consultant of one of the most prominent construction firms in the states and I had just been appointed project manager in a number of development projects in the Turks and Caicos islands. These projects could total a period of 4 to 5 years, and that was just being optimistic.
If I handled the project well, I was potentially set for life. Apart from being well paid, it would cement my reputation as a competent manager and open the way for more projects in the future. I had built a home for my mother and spent time with her whenever I was in Chicago.
I had not gone back to stay with her after the disappointment at the airport because I wanted to be close in case anything came up. She had called later in the day and I had explained things to her. I thought about calling her now but it was late and she was probably asleep.
I yawned from tiredness. I went back to bed and soon fell asleep.
The next morning, my secretary called to inform me that the company's private plane was now available. I could fly to Providenciales that day.
The secretary had not told me that I would be sharing the private flight with someone else. The other passenger was a stranger, apparently he was close to someone very high up in the company and had manage to hitch this ride with me.
"Hi, I'm Rod Steiner," the man introduced to me as I joined him.
The seat opposite him was free but to avoid having to converse with him, I had deliberately taken the seat on the opposite aisle. He showed that this wasn't a problem for him, he looked willing to turn to the side to have a discussion.
I replied to his greeting politely. "Good morning, I'm Gunner," I said, conscious about not revealing my surname.
"Gunner?" he repeated. "Was your father a marine?"
He was right. "Yes," I said as I sat down.
The pilot made his announcements and gave the flight instructions. Once we were in the air, Rod Steiner started talking again.
"Have you ever been to Providenciales?" he asked me.
"Yeah, a couple of times," I answered.
"For business of pleasure?"
"Mostly business."
"This is my first time going, and it's not for business." He gave me a sly wink.
"Oh," I muttered. I was thinking of a way to escape this conversation.
"How's the city? Is it any good?"
"Yeah, it's a fine city, and still under development," I said. I thought of the residential estate my company was building. According to our projections, by the end of it, the estate could house up to ten percent of the island's permanent residents.
"Tell me how it is," Rod Steiner said excitedly.
I sighed but not loud enough for him to hear. I tried to give a summary version of what the city was like. It was like most tourist sites, filled with hotels, resorts, plazas, spas, that kind of thing. There were a few local residents but the number was rising as it was becoming a favorite destination for affluent retirees from around the world. A reason why my company was trying to build the estate.
"What about the women? Are they any good?" the sly glint shimmered in his eyes.
I tried to smile understandingly. "I wouldn't know much about that," I said. "I told you, I mostly come here for business."
The hostess saved me from furthering our conversation. There was a call for me. It was from the chief director. He wanted to know about business. I explained to him that I had been delayed and had not arrived yet, and promised to get to the site as soon as I landed.
Rod Steiner had dozed off to sleep by the time the call was finished. I was grateful for this. I closed my eyes to try and gather some strength before we landed. I still had a long day ahead of me.
There was a taxi waiting for me upon landing. I was glad I didn't have to share with Rod Steiner, a separate taxi had been hired for him. A room had been pre-booked for me at the airport hotel in Providenciales. I always stayed in the same hotel anytime I came to town. I went straight to it to put down my luggage.
I asked the concierge to help me get a rental car. I took a shower while I waited. By the time I was done, the car, a Chevrolet truck, had arrived and I drove off to the development site.
It was already evening by this time and most of the workers at the site had gone home. I had a little discussion with the chief foreman. I assured him that lumber and some of the other equipment he had requested for was coming.
Accompanied by the foreman, I carried out a brief inspection of the site. Being on site, I couldn't resist a sense of satisfaction at the overall state of the project. Stretching up to the coastline, the neat rows of residential cottages had been raised up to above window level, at least most of them. The roads had been marked out and were being levelled. Still lagging were the amenities centers; the pool, the exercise center, and the theater. But that was for the second phase of the second phase of the project.
I returned home feeling a strange happiness. Being around work, seeing the live results of what I had designed on paper, the transmutation of ideas to a product in reality, had that effect on me. It was exhilarating.
I remembered I had not had anything since I left Baltimore. I stopped at a fancy-looking restaurant for a quick dinner. I couldn't help notice that I was the only one there who sat alone. I didn't mind though, I was used to it. I hadn't dated in two years. It was hard to find a person who struck and maintained my interest from the get go. And I didn't have the time or patience, and frankly the desire, to stroke interest or take my time with anyone.
But I was here for a wedding and some of that wedding fever was getting to me. How long could I do this for? How long could I be alone?
The food was awful and distracted me from these thoughts. It never ceased to amaze me how some of the fanciest restaurants could put out the worst meals which they invariably overcharged for.
But I was hungry so I wolfed everything down to the last bit. I paid the waiter a huge tip before I left. The worse a meal is, the higher I tip waiters because I always reasoned that they bore the brunt of the dissatisfaction of other customers even though they were not responsible for the food.
I returned to my hotel room longing for a deep restful sleep.