The executive dining room. What a different land she lived in!
"Sold the biplane?" she said, as though she had just heard. "You're not giving up flying?"
"No, of course not," I said.
"That's good. Can't imagine you without your flying machine."
What a frightening thought: never to fly again!
"Well," she said, getting back to business. "When can you do the TV things?"
"I'm not sure," I said. "Do I want to do them?"
"Think about it, Richard. It would be good for the book, you could tell quite a few people what happened, tell them the story."
Television studios are in cities. Cities, most of them, I prefer to stay out of. "Let me think about it," I said, "and I'll call you back."
"Please call me back. You are a phenomenon, as they say, and everybody wants to see who you are. Do be nice and let me know as soon as you can."
"OK."
"Congratulations, Richard!"
"Thank you," I said.
"Aren't you happy?"
"Yes! I don't know what to say."
"Think about the television shows," she said. "I hope you decide to do some, at least. The big ones."
"OK," I said. "I'll call."
I hung up the telephone and looked through the glass. The town was the same as before, and everything had changed.
What do you know, I thought. The journal, those pages sent almost on whim to New York, a best-seller! Hurray!
Cities, though? Interviews? Television? I don't know . . .
I felt like a moth in a chandelier-all at once there were lots of pretty choices, but I wasn't quite sure where to fly.
On impulse I lifted the telephone, coded my way through the maze of numbers required to reach the bank in New York and convinced a bookkeeper that it was me calling and that I wanted to know the balance in my checking account.
"Just a minute," she said, "I have to get it from the computer."
What could it be? Twenty thousand, fifty thousand dollars? A hundred thousand, dollars? Twenty thousand. Plus eleven thousand in the bedroll, and I could be very rich!
"Mr. Bach?" she said.
"Yes, ma'am."
"The balance in that account is one million, three hundred and ninety-seven thousand, three hundred and fifty-five dollars and sixty-eight cents."
There was a long silence.
"You're sure of that," I said.
"Yes, sir." Now a short silence. "Will that be all, sir?"