Conveyor Man

By Gerald Marier

Conveyor man tells of Gary, a hard worker meant to move, and thru that he travels the world installing conveyors. He finds a love in China, works around Mexican and Peruvian beauties, finds ties in England, yet all the while staying true. He fights and wins, makes friends and dire enemies, and yet the job comes first- Gary Conveyor man- born to fix.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496925022

Gerald Marier

Conveyor man is a story relating to the working man, covering many of the problems I encountered in my life. It is changed to suit him, but still tells much of the trials and problems one gets on the job. Conveyor man travels- covering all points of the globe as did I, and in that I wove much of his life. He marries, finds his niche and works on to the bitter end. It is there the story ends.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Even for seasoned flyers, the flights from Minneapolis to Beijing are long and arduous. Add in a stop-over in Seattle, first time flyer to first time job with a continueing flight to Xian, and we find Gary twenty minutes into his Seattle to Beijing flight. He is suffering- his legs are twitching- his back aches and the gut is rumbling.

Gary, Lyle had said, seeming light years before, we are looking for a rep- it requires classes in blueprint reading, welding and using the transit, are you interested?

Interested?

Get out of the machine shop with the ten minute break- travel and see the world- use this expertise he has so diligently acquired?

Yes Lyle I am.

That was eight months ago- eight of measuring and leveling, bolting and welding -— get it right, don’t do it twice, the instructer said, and Gary, wanting to learn, learned.

Tea sir, would you like tea? It’s the attendant, abrubtly at his side.

Her name is Meilin- so the tag says, and Gary- smitten by a pretty face- is at attention. He drops the tray- his book on the Vari-Dyne- a must memorize- drops to the floor. He’s not a tea drinker, but he is now -— yes, I would like tea.

Green?

He don’t know green -— yes, green.

Sipping away, the long and arduous flight takes a turn- no longer does the leg twitch, no longer does the back ache, and never has the Vari-Dyne book been open, tea giver Meilin has entered his head. Mindless, he watches her maneuver around her cart- his eyes follow as she serves the food. Every move is scrutinized, and then when the cart is emptied- as every passenger is fed and watered- as Meilin sorts this and puts away that, Gary makes his move.

Hello Meilin, could I have another tea? he asks, standing close.

Green? she asks, smiling ear to ear.

Yes green.

He hangs around sipping slow- taking time, and Meilin doesn’t shoo him away- doesn’t tell him to take his seat. She talks to him- gives chopstick lessons- teaches words of Chinese and things of China. It is as if they were meant to be, and the clincher- she is single, lives in Xian where Gary’s job is, and no Gary, I don’t have a boyfriend.

Fine, Gary says, maybe I’ll see you there. I’ll be in Xian for three weeks.

Maybe, Meilin answers, and then in that special voice -— you never know.

Good enough for Gary and feeling chipper over a possible maybe -— see ya, there, and then ambles back to his seat.

Meilin, what’s going on? Nancy asks, having taken in this whole affair -— that guy’s back here more than in his seat.

Nothing, isn’t he the cutest ever?

Meilin, you’re asking for trouble.

Not the words Meilin wanted to hear.

As the plane drones on, Gary and Meilin talk. It is friendly talk- what is this, why is that- do you like America? But soon Gary sees the futility in it, the stewardess, give me a break, that’s for pilots, and as Beijing nears he slumps down dejected, waiting for the ding.

It comes and with it Meilin makes her final rounds. She still looks good, in fact, even better and Gary takes his final look as she wiggles down the aisle. Oh boy, and then the captain -— fasten your seat belts folks, it’s time to descend.

And forlorn, Gary waits for the flight to end.

Parked finally at the gate Gary stands, stretches, and looks over Meilin. She is helping with over-heads and they catch eyes- Gary smiles and mouths goodbye.

Meilin smiles back, as if a message, and then forming a frown, waves. But before Gary can un-loose a wave she is gone.

Five minutes later he’s shuffling along in line.

It is the typical airport line- cases here- documents there, and all in confusion as Passport Control looms ahead- of course his line is going the slowest. Then- what’s this? The family in front has suddenly stepped aside and Gary is next- not prepared, he hands over the entire packet.

The man at the counter takes them, yawns, and hands Gary back his airline tickets with that not again look, then finds his way to what he wants. He fingers thru, stamp poised for stamping, and then stops to read a letter Gary was given on the day he left.

Pleased to meet you Mister Forcier, the man says, hand extended, welcome to Beijing.

Pleased to meet you too, Gary answers, they sure are friendly, and then accepting the shake, smiles on thru, following the crowd.

Moving along while gazing, Gary makes a turn and one look at the baggage area leaves all behind. The long flight, the tired legs- even Meilin is forgotten as the pandemonium of suitcases comes before him. In a panic he looks for a sign as to where his is, but it’s impossible, jeez, where’s the English, then spies the lady that sat across the aisle.

Hi, is this our carousel? he asks, sauntering over.

Yes it is.

And before another word, off it starts and the bags are tumbling down.

It takes a few rounds to the thought of where’s mine, but then soon one is there, and with an oh boy, one down, one to go, Gary has it safely at his side.

Standing proud, knowing the other case will soon follow, oh my, the lady next to him says, pulling at an immense suitcase trapped on the carousel, it’s stuck.

Here let me. Then yanks it loose as his goes slowly by.

It is his tool case- his prize possession where everything is to do a bang up job, and it’s not to be lost. Clothes, tooth brush, razor, all can be replaced, but his beloved tools, some his, some Flo-Way’s, are to die for, and he waits, and waits, and waits. Two- three times, the carousel goes around, and nothing, not a tool case to be seen. Then empty, the carousel stops, and in disbelief Gary stares, stopped, it stopped.

Desperately he tears around- carts of luggage are being herded toward the door. He stops to get his breath, where, where, and then in front of him is a bit of green. He looks closer and it’s the twisty he twisted on the handle of the case. He reaches down, gives a good pull, and the case breaks loose, bringing with six others.

Sorry pal, that’s my case, he says to the porter guy.

The war is on, and Gary is as determined as the porter is that the case goes back on his cart -— back off buddy, this is my case, and Gary pulls back harder- having had it with the tug and pull.

Porter guy looks at him, doesn’t smile and tugs back again.

The war continues, and Gary- not one to lose- pry’s the man’s hand loose, picks him up under the arms and sets him aside.

There asshole, now stay there!

May I help?

And before Gary can collect his wits he is looking at a not so friendly policeman and a lady holding a GLOBAL TOURS sign.

This is my case he was pushing it out the door!

Sir, may I see your claim ticket?

Claim ticket? Oh yes, claim ticket.

He fishes it out.

Sorry sir, the policeman says, handing it back, and with that the war is over- Gary has his case, porter guy is all humble- it’s not a crime, just another incident in a travelers day, but a policeman and so soon? Oh well at least I got the tools.

On his way to thru customs, and it was nothing but a wave, Gary finds himself safely out of the safety of the airport, stillfeeling slightly unnerved, could’ve been worse, but it’s set aside as he makes his way past the beeping horns to the head of the taxi line.

Sheraton Hotel please, he says to the driver, slowly and deliberatly.

Yes, yes, Sheraton Hotel, the driver answers, and then snaps into action, mumbles something, and a minute later his cases are in the trunk and they’re beep, beep, beeping their way thru Beijing. It is dark, Gary is tired, but all eyes- the scene is unbelievable!

Traffic like no other surrounds him- fires are on sidewalks, are they cooking? People are everywhere- it is like being dropped in the middle of the fair and he’s mesmerized.

The feeling fades and soon a clearer view shows the people are eating, those not are standing in line with bowls in hand, and then a turn by the frustrated driver and the scene changes. Now he sees parks and hears music- people are dancing and young lovers are necking.

Wow! Is it always like this? Gary asks the driver, speaking for the first time.

Yes, yes, Sheraton Hotel, the driver answers, smiling while beeping.

Gary wonders what did he hear? Then the scene changes again.

Now hotels dot the scene- beautiful ones behind guarded barricades. They look expensive and the driver glides thru the gate, mumbles to the gate keeper, stops and proceeds to un-load.

Wow, Flo-Way can sure pick em, but wait, upon close examination the sign says SHERIDAN HOTEL.

Hey, wrong hotel! I said Sheraton, Gary yells, pointing at the sign.

Yes, yes, the driver answers, Sheraton.

Dammit, that don’t say Sheraton, it says Sheridan, but he is in a bad spot.

Thinking fast while fumbling for anything with a name, Gary remembers a voucher, the voucher! And sure enough he is right, it says Sheraton. He hands it over- the driver looks at it -— oh Sheraton, he says, just like before, but maybe different, and then loads back up.

A minute later they’re beep beeping their way back thru town.

Past the dancers they go, only this time not so amazing-thru the traffic and fires- not so mesmerizing- past the airport- not a second look. Then off across the bridges. Soon the city changes and warehouses appear- then more darkness and a swift turn- a barricade- a guard and a hotel. Not so fancy, but it has a door. I don’t care, I’m spending the night, and bending his way out of the taxi, I’ll straighten it out in the morning.

Sheraton, Sheraton, the driver says, smiling, as Gary hands him a twenty. Oh, thank you, thank you, American, the driver says again, smiling even wider. Then speeding off- beep beep beep- Gary stands alone in the gloom.

Bone tired and woozy, not even looking for a fixture, he wonders where he is. So far he has lucked out by luck alone, how can it work? He is a stranger in a stranger land, heading for a job he’s not sure of, and already the police were involved -— may I take your luggage sir? a bellboy looking man asks, appearing out of nowhere.

Yes, thank you,and for lack of nothing else, Gary follows him inside.

Good evening Mister Forcier, the man behind the desk says. Did you have a pleasant flight?

You could have knocked him over with a noodle. Good evening Mister Forcier, Gary doesn’t even know where he is, but they know him and he takes the key -— yes, thank you, and then scans the scene.

It is a nice hotel with signs and doors- steps and artwork, what is the room like?

A mere thought and he loses it- following the bellboy trotting up.

It is a nice room, it smells nice too and the toilet. Oh it feels so good to sit and not be moving, and the bed is soft. He spreads out on the cover and loosens his pants, it wasn’t so bad, damn that Meilin was cute, wonder if?

And he is out.

CHAPTER TWO

Beijing- home of The Forbidden City, the Great Wall and Tian An Men square- is waking up. The market is open and plucked chickens are being hung on hooks. Vegetables are being arranged and the people are beginning to buy. The traffic builds up bringing on the noise of trucks and buses. Soon the clanging of streetcars, bicycle bells and beeping horns are added to the furor- it is the start of another day.

We look down from above and thru the flashing SHERATON HOTEL sign we find Gary sleeping spread-eagled on the still made bed. His head is filled with dreams- he lies sideways off the pillow. His snore is soft and long in perfect rhythm.

Tap, tap.

What, where am I? Gary gasps, slowly coming to life.

Tap, tap again, followed by a whine.

Jeez, someone’s at the door, and then up, through bloodshot eyes he sees a young girl. She stares, let’s out a scream and darts into the opening door across the hall. Gary stands there a moment, listens, and then wide awake, turns and shuts the door.

The clock is glowing 6:10 and he is up to stay. In a good mood expecting a perfect day, he shaves and showers at the same time. Then thoroughly content, steps out and grabs a towel. Hey, a warm towel, and looking over the rack, I should have one of these.

He moves on, now rummaging thru the suitcase, and pulls out fresh underwear and socks. Then digging further, out comes a Minnesota Twins sweatshirt and a baseball cap, and then to finish the ensemble, new jeans.

Gotta get the legs moving, he mutters, grabbing the door knob to force out several squats -— five more, and then falling down on the rug, grunts out twenty pushups. Now he’s ready, almost, and then looks in the mirror. The mirror looks back- a full length showing a five foot nine, hundred and ninety pounder with black hair and brown eyes- looking good, and he starts digging for the boots.

He loves them and sits on the bed to pull them on. They are beautiful boots- shiny brown with a safety flap over the laces, thick, deeply grooved soles with a CATERPILLAR sign up the side- they are the latest thing. Ordered one size over so they fit loose, he wiggles his toes and stands up. Nice boots, he sighs proudly, and Flo-Way bought em, then key in hand, out the door he goes.

Skipping down the steps, Gary slows for a wave and good morning, but doesn’t stop as the man behind the desk does a double take- his eyes riveted on the back of those brand new boots.

Down the driveway he walks- oh so good to be out- past the guard, thru the gate, and without a second thought, out to the main street. There he stops and looks around, then takes two steps back to the safety of the curb- people and things are everywhere.

On the sidewalk, on the boulevard, cutting across the grass, they are moving in all directions. Across the sidewalk are bicycles, and all ringing bells. Beyond that is a car and truck lane. Thru the gaps and over the tops run streetcars with power lines sparking as they cross the connections. Still not moving- focusing further on- Gary sees the same thing, but all going the other way- the scene is unbelievable.

Suddenly aware of causing a problem, Gary is startled. People are turning to look- not just a sideways glance, but a long serious stare, and in the process are bumping into each other. Where to go? Forward? Back?

He doesn’t know, and in desperation crosses the sidewalk.

Now he is in the bicycle lane. Not the best place to be as two of them brush together and fall tangled at his feet. He jumps forward to the safety of the curb.

Deciding to stick to the curb, Gary walks to the next intersection where a man wearing a yellow vest is directing traffic. When the light changes to green, he walks past the man and starts across the street. The traffic man watches, forgets to signal and a car bumps his knee. The man reacts violently and Gary moves to the other side of the street.

Standing there, boots hanging over the curb, waiting to cross the bicycle lane and return to the hotel, Gary sees a beautiful girl coming toward him. She is exquisitely dressed and pedaling along at a fast pace. Her eyes lock with his and then she looks down at the boots. Almost over the bicycle goes- she rights it in time, but she’s stopped. Her briefcase- bungee corded to the back fender- is hanging off to the side and Gary steps over to help- reattaches it and then gives the cord a snap.

There, good as new, he says, trying to smile, no damage at all.

She gives him a strange look, and without a backwards glance pedals like mad to get away.

That’s enough of this, and Gary is out of there. China won this round. He tried his best, got dressed up and everything, yet through no fault of his own only found trouble. Is this what’s to come? Will his every step bring down the house?

He hopes not- that this is a one time only morning, and then collides with a man in the doorway.

Nice boots, the man says, looking them over. New?

Yes.

Having had it with the boots, with a goodbye, have a good day, Gary walks into the hotel and goes to his room. Off go the boots, off goes the hat, and off goes the Twin’s sweatshirt. On goes a short sleeved shirt and on go the loafers. A quick trip to the toilet, a last glance in the mirror, and then down to the restaurant.

Last night, somewhere between checking in and luggage shuffling, he heard American breakfast, and they were right, coffee, juice, scrambled eggs and bacon, hash browns, toast and jelly- all one needs to build up strength- only one problem though, the food is cold.

No matter, he will eat it anyway. He is hungry- it has been days since a good meal and at his own table too with all this elbow room.

Good morning again, the man he bumped into says. Is this chair taken?

No, sliding his food over -— have a seat.

The man’s name is Wilfong Woo, and his smile is as inviting as his name. He mentions the boots, but only in passing- his interest lies in touring.

Are you a tourist? Wilfong asks, buttering his bread.

No, I’m here to work, Gary answers, in Xian actually. I’ll be in Beijing two more nights.

Oh, lifting his eyes, that sounds interesting. What do you do?

I install conveyors.

Oh, that sounds interesting. Have you done it before?

No.

Oh, that’s interesting,

What do you do? Gary asks, having had enough of that’s interesting.

I’m a guide. The people sitting next to you are my group.

Oh, that’s interesting, Gary answers, slyly.

There’s room for more, would you like to join us? Wilfong asks.

Join them? The morning walk was a disaster and the thought of studying is last in his mind -— yes I would, Gary answers, without even a where to?

Be down here in an hour, Wilfong says, the trip with lunch is forty dollars U S."

Sounds good, I’ll be there.

Right on the hour the bus takes off, and Gary, quickly packed, turns to hello, this is Gary, it is Wilfong pocketing the forty he is joining us today.

Hello Gary, they all say.

And with that quick introduction, Wilfong explains the day.

It is to be a good day- a highlight, and this day is the Great Wall- a must see, as Will puts. Wilfong’s group, a total of eight counting Gary, are ready and able. They have been in China a week, seen this and climbed that- they are tourists to the core, but when everything from last year in Russia to next year in Greece is thrown- well, without anything to add Gary can only listen.

So Gary, John the tourist says, turning his full attention on him, first time in China?

Yes, Gary answers.

John is off- their son is the chief engineer in charge of the construction of the entire sanitary system for South Korea. After this trip they’re going there to help him out. From South Korea they go to Amsterdam to visit with their daughter who is single and in charge of a large law firm. She is the only one who speaks fluent French and is invaluable to the company.

That’s quite an accomplishment, Gary says, to John, and single too.

Gary, Wilfong says, loudly before John can answer, come over here, I have some literature for you.

There are diplomats in every field and maybe what’s in Wilfong will rub off on Gary, but diplomat is a trait to be learned. Gary has been sent over and told to do what you have to do, but there is more to it than that. He is mechanically inclined- that’s the start, and he has got some smarts- good there too, but the diplomat?

Lost my business, Wilfong says, after they moved from small talk and a short warning on the ways of touristing, between the hike in gas prices and a crooked partner I was lucky to get out alive. Now I’m a guide- sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not, but it is lonely. My wife doesn’t like to travel- she would rather stay home with the grandkids so I go alone.

Oh, Will is alone, is that me? Do you must miss them?

Of course, Wilfong answers, with a whimsacle look, but before any elaboration, the bus tops a hill.

Here we are, Wilfong says, up with a grunt, get your camera, and with that all eyes are agog.

It is impossible to explain the first sight of the Wall It is high and wide with buildings built into it. It is wider than the average road and is long, really long. My God, Gary says to Wilfong, it just wanders thru the hills. I can’t see the end of it

It goes for thousands of miles Gary, thousands.

As they exit the bus, the last wanting to be first, Wilfong is back to guiding and gives a reminder about jackets, and then points to the toilets. That is important too, but no one seems to notice- this is a highlight- one of the wonders of the world and if they don’t hurry it might be gone.

Looking around while trying to keep track of the group, Gary decides to stick by Wilfong. He has acquired a feeling for him- not only because of the invite, but he seems the kind of guy that’s easy to be around, and the way he talks reminds him of Dad.

That’s enough for me, Wilfong says, sitting on the first bench he can find, you go on ahead, I’ll wait here.

Alone now- missing Wilfong- Gary trudges ahead he musta seen this a hundred times, and then stops to examine a building. It is an old one, and at close examination Gary see’s the marks the builders made. He looks around maybe they lost a chisel, but finds nothing. Shrugging it off, he backs out to contemplate, and then ready for more searching peers ahead to another building, maybe that one?

Climbing- he climbs slowly- the angle is steep with no steps, and then breathless, he stops. Gazing in the crisp air it was worth the effort. The view is extraordinary showing hills and trees, grasslands and the parking lot- except for the people far below there is not another living thing.

Shivering in the crisp air, guilt overcomes him. He is not being paid to gaze. He should be in the hotel studying and getting down the details- measure once and cut once, that’s what Flo-Way wants. But this opportunity- this once in a lifetime chance to see things only pictures show- is overpowering and he lingers longer, only to shrug it off and accept the fact he is there.

The inside of the building he discovered is dry and cool and way older than anything he has ever seen. His hand touches around and rubs an old iron ring imbedded in the wall. It is well worn and the ground beneath is worked down to form a shallow depression. Horses, I’ll bet that’s where they were tied, and he stands in awe imagining.

Shivering back to reality, guilt returns, and with a last touch to the iron ring, leaves and double steps back to Wilfong. He is done with the touring- done with the gazing- it was fun, but the job beckons and the sooner they get back to the hotel the better.

We’ll be leaving in an hour, Wilfong says, sitting unseen behind him, did you enjoy the Wall?

Yes I did Will, jeez, a whole hour, but the tour will last as long as it lasts and he will enjoy it. No asking to leave, no whining- he paid to go, so smile and enjoy it.

Leaving Wilfong to his thoughts, Gary decides to make the best of it and take a short jaunt around the base. As a kid that’s one of the things he did best, leave the crowd and explore. Never mind it was the corner dump or the back ditch- it was off alone, and if that’s what’s in you there’s no stopping.

Skipping down the steps onto a gravel path, still in awe of all this, Gary continues along looking for artifacts and pieces of broken wall, but finds only paper cups and pop cans. Defeated, he continues on further, maybe up there, but is stopped abrubtly- a girl is pointing at a large, hairy, double humped camel.

Photo, photo, the girl says, reaching toward Gary.

Startled at the sight, Gary quickly blurts out no thanks, and keeps on walking, but when he gets to the camel, why not, a picture of me on a camel by the Great Wall, I’m going for it.

And with that decision, he makes an abrupt turn back to the girl.

Bright eyed at his return, the girl takes his arm and leads him over to the camel. She has an accomplice- at least that’s the way Gary sees it, and he has the camel by its rope. Suddenly the camel turns its head, looks directly at Gary and gives out a large snort.

Gary jumps back two feet and watches the man pick up a blanket. He throws it across the camel’s humps and the camel goes absolutely nuts.

Spitting and snorting, dancing around at the end of the rope, it wants nothing to do with Gary. Gary senses this and is having second thoughts about the camel business, when all of a sudden the camel drops down on its belly. The man, hanging on to the rope with both hands, gives a head signal to jump on. Gary thinks a second, here goes, throws his pack aside and grabs hold of the front hump- then before he can say I’m ready, the camel is up and standing.

Camera, camera, the man yells, letting go of the rope.

In there, in the bag! Gary yells, eyes glued on the loose rope.

The man goes in his bag, digs around, takes out the camera and sporting a smile the Pope would be proud of, proceeds to take pictures, many pictures. Gary smiles for the shoot, as this is special, wait till Mom sees this, but as the camel does his dance he looks down to see the girl going thru his bag.

Instantly alarmed, he remembers his final day at home.

Acting on advice from know it alls, Gary bought some gum and candy for souvenirs, and then on a whim bought four gold wrapped condoms with USA written on them. Those and the candy bars are in the bag.

Alarmed further, as now the girl is really into the bag, he has visions of his bag running off over the hills- then sees the girl is only curious. Catching his eye, she pulls her hand out of the bag and gives him a big smile. He gives her the shame on you finger move, she smiles wider and goes right back in the bag.

Finally off the camel with the photo session over and walking gingerly, Gary walks over to confront the girl squatting about two feet away. She is staring at him like lost, gawd, she’s a cutie, and then reaches for his bag, digs thru and takes out two Snickers bars.

Here, you can have these, and he holds them toward her.

She gets up and slowly walks over. He hands her the bars, she takes them, runs back to the man and then as they discuss in Chinese, she points back at the bag.

Realizing she wants something else, Gary holds the bag toward her. She runs back, reaches in and takes out two of the condoms. Then she gives him a coy look and runs back to the man.

He doesn’t know what to do. They are souvenirs to pass out to guys, not girls, but as she’s unwrapping one- looking as if it’s about to bite, she don’t know what it is, the girl lets out a squeal.

She knows now, and then sets two dollars down and leaves, imagining the use.

Back at the parking lot, still empty handed, Gary sees smiling faces in his bus, I’m last, but climbing aboard an urge comes over him, I have to crap, and now!

And with that bit of information- trots rapidly up to the toilet.

He goes in the first door and looks around- nothing is there. Walking in further- in the gloom he sees a hole in the floor- further look shows a set of footprints imbedded near it. Aha, but backing over the hole he knows it ain’t gonna work.

Desperate and losing time, he takes everything off from the waist on down, then sets them in the corner, then squatting as comfortable as can be, does his business.

Everything is fine until wiping time. Dammit, now what, and his eyes settle on the travel bag. My note book!

Duck walking over to the bag, he fishes out the book, tears out a few pages, wipes himself, stands up and puts on his clothes. Walking back he drops the paper in the hole and looks down, no problem with that, don’t even have to flush, and proud of his accomplishment, leaves.

Relieved- walking back to the bus looking over the Wall- along comes Grace, one of the ladies in the group, hot footing it up the path.

What kind of toilet is it? she asks, in one breath.

It’s not a toilet. It’s a hole in the floor!

Oh damn. Then turns to follow him down the path.

It’s easy, Gary says, feeling for her, just take off everything from the waist down.

She gives a questioning look, mumbles hmmm, and then turns back up the hill.

Back in the bus, seated comfortably behind the yawning Wilfong, Gary watches Grace walk up the steps. She gives him a big smile and slides chatting excitably into the seat next to Emma, her senior companion. Emma looks over and gives Gary one of those little old lady waves.

What’s that all about? Wilfong asks, his eyes glued on Emma.

Nothing Will. I just told Grace how to use the toilet.

On the move again, fresh air and a rolling bus puts the group into a semi-state of sleep. Gary is trying to fight it off, but it’s no use and he drifts into that area somewhere between reality and fantasy. At times his pickup truck goes thru his mind, then various women. Mom makes an entrance, then other women, a hamburger, fries, chocolate shakes, Ellen and then Meilin.

With her a feeling starts, a deep one and he fights it off- one part saying stay down, the other screaming go for it. He is going for it, almost to the point of pain, when the lurching of the bus and the squeal of brakes wakes everyone up. Yawning, scratching and making sure his travel bag is covering his lap Gary looks out the window. Will, where are we?

Ming Tombs, Wilfong answers, yawning -— very interesting.

They are very interesting, but as they walk Gary is blind to the sights- conveyors have taken over. It is hard to bear, and as Wilfong fills them in on more history all is lost on rollers, bearings and brackets. His job beckons now worse than ever- it is time to return to the hotel. It has been interesting, even fun at times, but he is not the tourist, and as they walk back toward the bus, his head spinning between walls, tombs and Flo-Way, can I do this, can I work with the Chinese, is running thru his brain. He doesn’t know- what rep does. What he does know is now, first and foremost, he must return to the hotel and study.

Who is hungry? Wilfong asks, loudly, as the bus rumbles off. Next stop is the restaurant.

Jeezus, now food, but he is hungry- starved would be a better word, and here, there, or anywhere, when starved you eat -— I am Will. Then sits back resolved the tour will never end.

With a quizzakle look from Wilfong, the bus takes off and Gary is left to ponder. This installation will make or break him. The school, welding and the transit, have led to this, but he will prevail- everything will be true and square when the rollers start to roll. He is Gary- he will do a slam bang job and be in control, but as the scenery ambles by, I sure hope so is there too- it’s inevitable.

Wilfong is first off the bus, but Gary, with his mind still wandering around the slam bang job, lingers. He is accepted as part of them now, and installation or no installation is a tourist, so accepting that he slowly stands, okay, don’t be a spoilsport, and then with a groan, is back in control.

They’re already sitting to eat when Gary starts in the doorway, and with a sheepish grin looks around, and then the impossible- snakes are before him, curling around in a jar.

What the -— snakes! Then he’s thru the door like a flash.

You must be hungry, Wilfong says, alarmed as he slides over a chair.

Did you see that Will? Those are snakes in that jar!

They are a delicacy -— too expensive, Wilfong says, nonchantly, and then without further explanation, turns to the menu and starts explaining what the choices are, with a reminder that coffee and tea are free, everything else you have to pay for.

Wilfong, do we have to pay for Coke? Emma asks.

Yes, Emma, only coffee and tea come with the meal.

Gary wonders- the last thing he wants is coffee or tea.

As the conversation lapses, the waiter, smiling for his foreign guests, arrives, and Wilfong without a nod or hello, snaps out I’ll have a beer. John and Dell order beer and everyone else orders tea. Gary orders a Coke and immediately Grace switches to Coke, and then starts moving the table around.

Gary is amazed, the table top turns, not the whole top, only the center part with the food on it. What an idea, and he looks under to see how it works.

The waiter, now at ease with his foreign guests, moves along and Gary sees forks in his pocket. John and Dell ask for forks, so does Emma, and as the waiter makes his way close he hands one to Gary- he can’t take it.

Meilin’s face is there- not clear, and for a second is afraid he forgot what she looks like, but then it comes in focus and he can’t accept the fork.

I’ll stick with chopsticks, he says, to the waiter.

And with a friendly grin toward Wilfong, the waiter hands them over.

Bad move- Gary is trying and Meilin’s lesson is firmly in his mind, but that was with her hand firmly on his- now it is different, and try as he might he just can’t get enough food down to satisfy his hunger. Frustrated, he looks around- Bill and Edna are doing fine- at least they’re getting something on their plate. John and Dell are busy with the forks, no problem there, and Emma is stabbing at whatever is near. Wilfong and Grace are experts, they take what they want and spin the table around. Needless to say, the table is constantly spinning and Gary is beside himself with fret. Why can’t I hold them like Meilin showed me?

Should I get you a fork? Wilfong asks, diplomatically watching the whole thing.

No, thanks Will, I have to learn. I’ll be here three weeks and I have to eat with chopsticks. Even if I starve to death

With a friendly smile Wilfong takes his hand -— hold them like this and no squeezing. Just relax- let it feel natural. The harder you try the more you squeeze, just relax the fingers.

Gary takes a few deep breaths and tries again, and with thoughts of Meilin over the feel of Wilfong, makes it work.

Eating now- challenging but proud- the hunger goes away, then looking around whats that they’re taking, looks good.

You should try those, Wilfong says, pointing at one.

Gary pinches one and puts it in his mouth.

Is this Spam?

Yes, Wilfong answers, spearing the last one, Chinese love Spam -— but now lunch is over and we have to leave.

Aw shit -— Gary loves spam, but Wilfong says.

The ride back is quiet, leaving Gary again to his thoughts. He seen a lot today- more than some see in a lifetime- even so, mixed feelings prevail. In a way he feels this had to be done- to see what’s around and get the feel of the place, but the blue collar mentality lingers, I should be working.

Here we are at the hotel, Wilfong says, taking away the thoughts. It has been a long day and dinner is on your own tonight. Emma, I suggest the hotel, I know you’re hungry!

Good old Will, leave em with a joke, Gary thinks, looking over the smiles, and then, checking the seat, groggily leaves the bus.

CHAPTER THREE

In the room, shaved, showered and all dried off with the nice warm towel, in his underwear lying on the bed, Gary is agonizing over why can’t I concentrate?

This day has been more than ever imagined- touristing and Will, but it is over and not to be repeated. I have to get these plans down or I’m in trouble -— damn it, now I got a headache. And trying to stretch it away- gets up and puts a wet towel on his neck.

As the headache subsides he stretches more, forcing it even further, and then simultaneously his stomach growls. That’s it, I’m hungry. And out the door he goes.

In the lobby Gary sees a money exchange sign- he needs yuan’s and saunters over -— hello, I need money.

Chinese yuan, the man behind the desk says.

No, deutsch marks, but Minnesota nice takes over -— yes please, Chinese yuan.

Yes, Mister Forcier, Chinese yuan.

The man begins to count, and count, counting out a thousand of the dirtiest bills Gary has ever seen, what the hell, he examines mine and gives me these, jeez, they’re even greasy, but he takes them and smiles -— thank you sir, spending money.

Yes Mister Forcier, the cashier says -— Chinese yuan.

With money exchanged, Gary walks down the street- eyes glancing as he discreetly separates the tens and hundreds, then stops under a faded red and white tarp. He looks close- the food looks good, maybe, and he sits down to order. No one comes, and then watching further, sees the way it works- it is serve yourself and he gets up to take his bowl. The bowl is chipped- he looks for another- worse yet, guess I’ll keep it, and then discreetly rubs it out with his shirttail.

With the choice of morsels made, the food, cooked in a wok over a charcoal fire, is going down like Mom’s apple pie, and he is not alone, others are enjoying it too, and good by the look of it. But as they chew their eyes focus on him. He doesn’t like being stared at- who does, but says nothing. There is no talk- couldn’t be if he wanted to so eat- thank God food is there.

Eating on- avoiding stares- Gary knows he will overcome this- that China will not win, but what if other countries get involved?

He could go anywhere in the world- look at Will- look at what Flo-Way is into- is this just the start- is this his life?

He’s off in another world thinking of spam- thinking of home- of Mom- of everything, and slowly fills up. The stares continue, but not so bad now- at least they turn away if he stares back, and he spits out what he can’t swallow. He don’t like doing that, but that’s the way that works too, and then without warning Meilin appears. I wish she was here, but as she fades away he worries- this girl has burned into his brain- why?

Never before has that happened, and his mind turns to Ellen.

She is his girl and will be there when he returns, so why Meilin with the