Different Circles

“How’s the weather there?”

“Cool and rainy,” he said. “Reminds me of Seattle.”

“That’s how it was when I was there too,” she said. “And it was hard to breathe. It was a chore getting through the show at that altitude.”

“I can imagine,” Jake said.

“You saw the plane?” she asked.

“I did,” he confirmed. “Travis—he’s the mechanic I told you about—checked it out and says it looks good. Jill has been talking to the accountant for the owner. It looks like maybe we’ll be able to make this deal happen.”

“That’s great!” she said. “You’ve settled on a price then?”

“Uh ... well ... we’re still talking about that,” he said. “Nothing is set in stone.”

“Oh ... I see,” she said. “But you think you’ll be able to close on it?”

“As long as the official inspection doesn’t find anything amiss,” he said. “Hopefully in the next month or so we’ll be able to start the escrow process.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” she said. “And to ride in it.”

“You’re going to love it,” he promised.

“I’m sure I will,” she said.

“How’s the tour going?” he asked to change the subject away from the price of the airplane.

“We’re doing good. Everyone is fully in the groove and the pap has pretty much stopped hounding Celia about the whole Mindy Snow thing.”

“That’s good,” he said. “And how about you? Made any new friends lately?”

She giggled a naughty giggle, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “Not yet on this leg,” she said. “Although the pressure is building. I was thinking of maybe putting in a request at tomorrow night’s show.”

“Are you sure they have lesbians in Bismarck?” he asked.

She giggled again. “I guess I’ll find out,” she said.

They spoke for a few more minutes, until the scratchiness and the echoes of the connection became bad enough they could hardly understand each other. They then bid each other a good night and told each other “I love you”. They did not promise to call tomorrow. They never did.

Jake hung up the phone and then went to the window and looked out into the rainy night. It was still early, and their flight did not leave until just before noon the next day. He picked up the phone again, this time dialing direct to room 1812.

“This is Travis,” a voice said.

“T, it’s Jake,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Travis said. “There is nothing to do. I can’t even watch TV. It’s all in Spanish.”

“There is something to do,” Jake said. “Let’s go down to the bar and drink.”

“Well ... I guess I could do that if you want.”

“Way to show enthusiasm,” Jake told him. “I’ll meet you down there.”

He hung up the phone, picked up his wallet (which he had refilled with sixty thousand pesos on the way back from the airport) and his room key and headed out the door. Five minutes later, he was down in the bar on the second floor of the hotel. He grabbed two seats near the end.

The bartender did not speak English, but she did not have to. Jake had learned the proper phrasing the night before. “Dos guaro en las rocas,” he told her, holding up two fingers in case she did not know what Dos meant.

“Si,” she said with a brazen smile. “En seguida, Señor.” It was obvious that she knew who he was. And Jake instinctively knew that if he were to suggest a little study session on international relations up in his hotel room, she would jump at the chance. And if this had happened five years ago, before he became involved with Laura, he might very well have suggested such a thing. She was quite attractive, with dark hair, a curvy body, full lips, and a healthy set of chichis. But alas, his international relations days were behind him now. A pity.

Travis arrived just as she was putting the drinks down. Jake gave her a wad of pesos from his wallet and let her figure out how much to take. It was possible that she could be ripping him off, but he did not really care. To him the Colombian money did not even seem real. It was like he was paying for his drinks with Monopoly money.

“Thanks for coming on this trip with me, T,” Jake told the mechanic as they hefted their first drinks.

“I’m glad I did,” he said, looking around the room at the crowd. “This has been a very remarkable experience.”

“For me too,” Jake said. “For one, I discovered a new kind of booze. For two, I’ll probably be getting a new airplane soon. Life is good.”

“You do seem to have an interesting life,” Travis allowed. “That man, Eddie ... the one you’re buying the plane from ... is he really ... you know ... a cocaine dealer?”

Jake shrugged. “He says he makes his money from exporting coffee and importing consumer electronics.”

“Enough money to buy a Cessna Citation?”

“Lots of people drink coffee,” Jake said.

“His security guards were packing guns,” Travis said. “And they had those earpiece thingies.”

“Yeah ... I noticed that.”

“Does that seem like the sort of thing a coffee exporter would require?”

“Well ... maybe not in the states, but here in Colombia? Who knows?”