America 1982-Chapter 66 - 22: Take the Initiative in Cooperation
"Chatting with overly smart adults is always so tiring and the topics are so heavy, so..." At eight o’clock in the evening, Tommy Hawk sat on the bench in the lobby of this old-fashioned English inn built during the Edwardian era and said to Catherine, who was drinking juice beside him.
Regrettably, before he could finish, Catherine had already shifted her gaze from the long bar and looked at Tommy, interjecting, "So, does that explain why you’ve only ever had two childish and stupid friends from childhood to adulthood?"
Tommy thought about it and finally nodded, "Yes, Dennis is right, you’re really good at ending conversations."
"So, did that guy send you to test whether it’s just him, or if I treat all guys this way?" Catherine asked.
Tommy Hawk glanced around and said with regret, "Yes, even though I told him the answer, he didn’t think it was reliable enough. Actually, any slightly normal guy wouldn’t think like that, it’s just that Dennis happens to be two shades away from normal guys: first, he has no shame; second, he has no brain."
This old luxury inn had now become a student dormitory, and thanks to this country not having many televisions, entertainment at night was limited to some facilities in the lobby, such as a pool table, card tables, and live band performances, among others.
Ottelia and Susan, the local high school principal, were sitting on the second floor at the moment, overlooking the students relaxing in the lobby, chatting intimately, perfectly fulfilling their duties by supervising the students without spoiling their fun.
The card table was the first entertainment facility to be worn out and abandoned, not because there was no excitement in not gambling with money, but because when you sit across from a peer who has been honing poker skills since childhood, mastered various games and has an astounding win rate, you realize there’s just no sense of participation.
Show-off slackers were having the happiest moment now; they had taken over the musical instruments and stage, the pool table, and the long bar, trying to catch the girls’ attention with various skills and techniques they were good at.
Like Dennis, who was currently banging on the bar and shouting at his peers who had monopolized the small stage:
"Arm wrestle! Decide the ownership of the stage like true alphas! Don’t give me that crap about who came first!"
David Schafer, who had been lying on the bar like a lazybones, immediately perked up, "If someone’s willing to bet, I can provide the service, with reasonable commission."
"David, no betting with money! Can’t you just use cookies for chips?" Ottelia immediately stood up, leaning over the railing to warn him from the second floor.
Under the very nose of Dennis, the police chief, Pam, who was currently in a corner of the lobby trying to turn two suspiciously acquired bicycles into a tandem bike, actually reacted. He took some change out of his pocket, walked over, slapped it on the bar, and said to David coolly, "Trade these two bucks for soda, betting on Dennis winning."
After that, he turned around and went back to the corner to continue his modification project.
"David, I’ll also take two bucks of soda on Dennis winning." Tommy blew a loud whistle while sitting on the bench to get David’s attention, then called out.
Catherine curiously asked, "You don’t even know who will stand up to teach that guy a lesson, and you’re betting on him winning?"
"That’s why the three of us childish fools have been friends for so long. It doesn’t matter who the opponent is, but you’ve got to know who’s on your side. To have two friends who’ve never betrayed each other as we’ve grown up, I don’t think that’s too few," Tommy said.
Even without an opponent standing up yet, the fact that two best friends had already bet on his victory made Dennis smile even wider. He raised his hands and looked around, "Standing before you is Dennis Herbert from West Warwick City in Kent County, Rhode Island, in Hope Mountain District! The owner of the district with the most brawling drunks at the Warwick City Beer Festival for seven consecutive years, which attracts the most viciously violent in the whole of the United States..."
"Stephen said he wants me to try," Frank slowly stood up at Stephen’s goading and said to Dennis, who was boasting.
Seeing Frank’s clearly defined muscles, Dennis kept up his bravado, but his eyes involuntarily started flicking towards the stage, "Frank, I was challenging those guys on the stage..."
"Dennis! You’re a tough guy made by Warwick! Let him see what you’re made of! Show him how hard you are!" Tommy shouted encouragingly, "Don’t be a coward!"
Dennis turned and swore at Tommy, "F*ck you, Tommy! Look at Frank, the guy’s neck muscle is bigger than my abs! Give him boxing gloves, and he’d be the spitting image of the white champ, John Dempsey! And you want me to die at his hands?"
However, despite what he said, his actions weren’t timid. Dennis put his hand on the bar, his eyes fervently fixed on Frank, who was eager to try.
"Math whiz, what do you think the odds are of Dennis winning?" Tommy asked Chris, who had just finished a game of poker.
Chris looked at Tommy speechlessly, "Tommy, if you need to ask others about the odds for this kind of contest, I wouldn’t really recommend college for you."
At this moment, one of Zoey’s students rushed into the bar under the protection of two local black police officers, scanned the room, and then approached Tommy, who was chatting with Chris, and said, "Tommy, Mr. Elton from Nick Channel called to talk to you, Zoey asked me to let you know."
"So if you’re not desperately seeking power, don’t become a politician; such a beautiful night with so many pretty girls to flirt with, and here I am, having to converse with a middle-aged man." Tommy stood up, raised his hand for a high-five with Chris, "I can do the flirting with girls for you, Mr. Prime Minister."
"You always know how to make me feel worse, Chris," Tommy said with a smile.
As Tommy walked into the public relations office, Zoey, who had been waiting there, handed him the phone, which she had not hung up yet, quickly briefing him while covering the mouthpiece: "Elton Burn, the producer of the Nickelodeon show ’Are You Afraid of the Dark?’ I just briefed him on some basic details, but he didn’t seem very interested."
"We are the paying side, Zoey," Tommy took the phone, deliberately raising his voice so that the person on the other end could hear, "Didn’t I tell you it’s better to wait until we get feedback from Disney Channel as well and then deal with both at the same time? I hate having to repeat myself over and over. This country has a lot on its plate."
Zoey gave a silent thumbs-up, and Tommy smiled as he put the phone to his ear: "Hello, Mr. Byrne, I’m the chairman of CSLS Committee, founder of the summer camp, the acting Prime Minister of Saint Vincent, Tommy Hawk."
"Kid, your title is getting longer than our President’s," Elton laughed over the phone.
Tommy disregarded the teasing and continued seriously and haughtily, "To cut the long story short, if I want to promote our summer camp on Nickelodeon, how much do I need to pay for you to bring your crew to Saint Vincent?"
"Sounds like you’re rich," Elton said, seemingly finding Tommy’s tone increasingly amusing, "It’s rare for partners to talk about money on their first official call; it makes me feel a bit defeated, like a producer is on par with a stripper."
Tommy caught his breath then replied with a hint of discontent, "If my Defense Minister Catherine Nann didn’t have a good impression of Nickelodeon, I wouldn’t have considered you. Disney Channel is my first choice; we aren’t short of funds. Not only is the treasury of this country in the hands of my Finance Minister, but we could also have Nickelodeon broadcasting our ads 24/7 if we wanted."
"That’s absurd, kid, no country would entrust real wealth to a group of high school students in such experimental games."
"Do you know what’s even more absurd? Mr. Byrne, my teenage Finance Minister possesses a fortune of six hundred million US Dollars, the interest from that alone in a bank would exceed the total salaries of everyone in this country several times over in a year."
"What on earth are you talking about, kid?"
"The current Finance Minister Stephen Binn, from the New York Binns Family, look at the recent news about Mr. Leon Binn and his family in the New York papers, and you will know that I’m not in the mood to joke with you, not in the slightest," Tommy Hawk assertively dominated the conversation over the phone:
"I think you should get acquainted with this absurd reality and then come back to discuss cooperation. Once you realize I’m not joking, our conversation might go more smoothly. I want to promote the summer camp, establish the brand, and also promote this beautiful country. That’s why I want to collaborate with a TV station. If you’re interested in partnering, then think about how to help craft an engaging yet substantive documentary or some other program. And just because we have enough resources doesn’t mean you should exploit us; we’re wealthy, not philanthropists. Making money from the rich is much harder than making it from the poor."
"Kid, did you just say that you’re the grandson of Leon Binn..."
"Mr. Byrne, in this conversation, you’ve already called me ’kid’ four times. Let me remind you, if I hear it a fifth time, I guarantee you won’t make a penny from me—I’ll go directly to Disney Channel. Out of respect for my Defense Minister Catherine Nann, I will introduce myself one last time: Chairman of the CSLS Committee, acting Prime Minister of Saint Vincent, Tommy Hawk," Tommy Hawk enunciated deliberately into the receiver:
"Next time you call, refer to me as Prime Minister."
After finishing, Tommy hung up the phone, Zoey looked at him in surprise: "It seems like it ended before we even got to the main point?"
"Before getting to the main point, let him verify the information I mentioned. Then, through this conversation, he’ll learn that we are a group concerned with titles, childish yet preferring to speak with grown-up authority, easily seizing control of the conversation...kids." Tommy Hawk lit a cigarette, smiling at Zoey: "It’s been hard work, Miss Lady, I can escort you back to the hotel on my way."
"You’ve looked at my file, haven’t you?" Zoey nodded as she walked out of the public relations office alongside Tommy, carefully locking the door, and turning to him in the hallway.
Tommy nodded: "I have."
"So when they called me ’Lady,’ you didn’t consider giving me another nickname?"
"I thought about it, but I figured it’d be more suitable for you to tell them yourself one day," Tommy replied.
As they stepped out of the government building, the sound of music drifted from a distant hotel, a Bob Dylan classic, "Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door," passionately rendered in rock style by Dennis, and carried by the night breeze:
"knock-knock-knockin’ on heaven’s door! knock-knock-knockin’ on heaven’s door! knock-knock-knockin’ on heaven’s door..."
The old tune, reminiscent of the Guns N’ Roses cover Tommy Hawk had liked in a past life, seemed to have infected others in the hall as well, joining the singer, the song echoing through Kingston’s night sky.
"It’s an old song, but still so powerful," Zoey listened to the song, slightly tilting her head back to gaze at the stars, smiling: "What a wonderful summer camp."
"Of course, a wonderful summer camp and, even more wonderful, us. Let’s go, Ms. Shrew," Tommy said softly, "I hope you like the nickname I’ve coined for you in my mind."
