Nation shall speak unto nation.
I woke first as soon as the earliest rays of sunlight began to pry through the bamboo blinds that covered the window opposite Nat’s bed. Our bed. I glanced over to the bedside table where my bright red Vostok Komandirskie watch lay propped up against a book. It was 05:57, give or take 30 seconds. Vostoks aren’t renowned for pinpoint accuracy but they are rugged as hell.
Nat lay alongside me, his head on my shoulder, his breath blowing gently across my chest.
“You awake yet, Natty?”
Nat stirred a little, rolled his head to one side, smiled at me. “I am now…”
“Let’s go swim, Nat. Pack as much into today as we can.”
“With you on that, Boots. Oh, and by the way, Happy Birthday, bud.”
“Thanks. Nat. Now, race you down to the pool”
* * *
We’d been in the pool about fifteen minutes when my dad appeared and dived in, surfacing a few seconds later between me and Nat, placed a hand on each of our heads, dunked us.
“Morning, boys. Happy birthday, Craig.”
“Morning. dad,” I spluttered, spitting out about half the pool. “Race you both to the end and back. Winner cooks breakfast…”
“Not so fast, Craig, “laughed Nat as he tried, unsuccessfully, to grab my arm. “Besides, Millie will soon be in the kitchen and have breakfast under control.”
“Not today, Nat. This is my special day, so I’m in charge. That means I’m cooking breakfast for us all. Unless you can both beat me to the far end of the pool.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later I had dried off, put on a T shirt and a pair of shorts and was in the kitchen with Millie, the Bauers’ housekeeper. She was happy to give me free rein in the kitchen to prepare breakfast for us all. As I stepped up to the oven and hob and turned them on before starting on the main course, Millie busied herself setting out jugs of fruit juice and milk, cereals, a bowl of fresh fruit salad, dishes of yoghurt and several breads for toasting.
“What are you planning, Craig?” she asked as I browsed through the contents of the pantry and fridges.
“Nat likes hash browns for breakfast, so I’m doing something potato based but with a different touch. Basically, bubble and squeak like my gran does but with a few tweaks. Mashed spud - I see there’s some already pre-made in the fridge - mixed with diced onion and chives, lightly fried then topped with some grilled grated cheese and crispy bacon. Grilled tomato halves too to accompany, and some butter sautéed mushrooms. Maybe a dash of fresh ground pepper and sea salt?”
“That sound divine, Craig, I’m sure everyone will like it. Would you like some of my baked beans to accompany it? I have some already soaked overnight, it wouldn’t take long to whisk up a tomato and paprika sauce…”
* * *
I may not have a certificate from Paris Like Millie does, but everybody loved my breakfast, even Elizabeth! She definitely had a bigger portion than me when she stepped up to the counter where I’d put the bubble and squeak in the big baking tray I’d used to prepare and serve it so everyone could help themselves to a plateful. Nat loved it and was quick to go back for a second helping, just behind his dad. “Just what I need to build me up ready for my tv interview,” he grinned. “Move over, pop, leave some for me…”
My mom, organised as ever, had a pile of birthday cards by her side on the table which she’s obviously brought over with her from home. The big one on top is from her and dad, I can tell her the writing on the envelope, then there’s one from Mandy, both grans and grandads, and the rest must be from various aunts and uncles, maybe cousins too. I wonder if Jake has sent one? He usually does, but this year, well, I’m not so sure…
As my mom picked up the pile of cards and prepared to hand them over, Nat’s mom smiled and spoke.
“Happy birthday, Craig, I wish I was sixteen again. I think you must be the youngest of the students in your year, and in your dorm when you were at Allegheny too?”
“He is,” said mom. “His birthday falls right on the cut-off line. When it came to enrolling him in school, we had the choice of him being either the youngest in his year, or holding him over until the next year, in which case he would have been the oldest amongst his peers.”
Dad laughed. “As you can imagine, we were keen to kick him out of the house as soon as possible and regain some peace and quiet, so youngest it was…”
“Thanks, dad,” I grinned, “Remind me again what home you want me to stick you in when you get old and decrepit.”
“Angela and I have been thinking about what we should do this evening to mark your birthday, and also your exam results too. Those also definitely deserve a special celebration,” continued mom.
I glanced across at Nat who rolled his eyes in a kind of ‘I bet you don’t have any say in this, bud’ kind of way.
He was right of course.
“It’s going to be a busy day, what with Nathan being interviewed for tv, and us all needing to do our packing ready to leave tomorrow, but we thought you might like to go out for a meal at Hyeholde’s. It’s Pittsburgh’s oldest and best restaurant, isn’t it. Angela?”
“The best there is, though we’ll have no problem getting a table of course…” added Elizabeth as my dad and Nathan’s dad exchanged wry glances. I think they knew I would be happy just to have a quiet barbeque down on the deck by the boat shed.
Nat’s right though. It looks like this is a fait accompli. The booking has probably already been made.
“Boots?” smiled Nat. He knows what I’m thinking, but I think it would suit him to go to this Hyeholde place. Round off his day nicely.
I nodded. “Definitely, mom. I didn’t drag my dinner jacket all this way and then not wear it. It is a place where I could wear it?”
Nat’s grinning. “Sure is, bud.”
That’s settled then. We’re going to this Hyeholde place tonight.
* * *
Nat disappeared straight after breakfast to talk with his dad about his tv interview and my mum and dad were whisked away by Angela, Nat’s mom, to discuss their plans for the day. That apparently involved a trip to the Carnegie gallery followed by lunch on the waterfront down at Point State Park. Elizabeth lingered with me in the breakfast room and helped me and Millie do the washing up and tidy things away. Elizabeth still scares me, I’m always on edge when she’s around, but she’s definitely trying to be nice to me today.
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy your birthday dinner at Hyeholde’s tonight, Craig, even if it might not have been your first choice of venue. I think it says a lot about you that you’re willing to go there. Nathan and everyone else will love it. Just don’t let my little brother walk all over you. Keep him in his place when needs be…”
* * *
Nat’s interview was being done down on the decked area by the boat shed, where it would have scenic views out over the river but not intrude into the privacy of the rest of the Bauers’ home. There had been some discussion about holding it in the tv studios but Nat hadn’t been keen on that and the tv station had quickly agreed that, weather permitting, an interview by the river was better.
Nat pretty much knew what questions he was going to be asked following our meeting with Fiona Carpenter, and a rough draft of the interview had been passed back and forth between his pop’s campaign team and KWT-TV a couple of times. It wasn’t exactly a script, more a general outline of things he’d be asked, but Nathan seemed comfortable with it. He’s done media training lessons at Allegheny and no doubt at home too. Lorna Dellville, the station’s “Traffic Lady” arrived in a large people carrier type thing just before nine-thirty with her team and set up alongside the decked area, deploying a big broadcast antenna to relay the footage back to the station’s studio for final editing before transmission.
“It’ll look like it’s a live broadcast, Boots,” said Nat as we prepared to walk down to the boat shed with his dad and a couple of PR aides, “But in reality, there’s a ten-minute delay so if something goes pear-shaped it can be edited out, and also the station can edit the footage for sound quality if they need to.”
“it’s unlikely the questioning will be too intrusive,” smiled Paul, Nat’s dad, to me as we neared the boat shed. “We’ve agreed what subjects are okay and what is off-limits, and in any case, KWT-TV will be hoping to keep the relationship between us good. The documentary series they did about the college back in the spring was one of their best viewed, even won an award, and they also sponsored the golf matches the college team held. They’ll not want to jeopardise the possibility of a follow up, and they’ll also be wanting to keep a foot hold in my campaign with preferential access if they can arrange as the hustings progress. If they can get an exclusive or two with me it allows them to syndicate the content to the national stations and boosts their audience figures and income too.”
Nat strolled confidently onto the decking and held out his hand to Lorna. “Hi Lorna, good to see you again. Of course, you already know my pop, and may I now introduce you to Craig Wright, my colleague from Allegheny River Military College, the ‘Man of Mystery’ as your researchers seemed to have dubbed him. He’ll be watching on from the sidelines along with my pop. Have you got all you need for the broadcast?”
Lorna smiled and shook my hand too but barely had chance to say anything more than “Pleased to meet you at last, Craig,” before Nathan began starting to assert a little control over the preparations under the guise of actually being helpful.
“We’ve got some cushions in the boat shed that you can put on those chairs, make them a little more comfortable. I’ll have someone bring them over. Some jugs of water and glasses too on the table, it’s going to be bright and hot. Do you need some pegs to anchor those cables down?”
Nat‘s dad and the PR aides smiled. Nat’s probably actually been taught to do this. Establish his presence. Ensure he throws a small spanner in the works here and there, upset their preparation slightly so they start having to respond to him rather than them being able to dictate events. I guess that’s why Nat and his dad wanted the interview here rather than in the studio. He’s got home advantage, and they TV crew will always have to bear in mind that they are the guests here.
Nat’s coming alive. He loves this. Organising stuff. Taking control without appearing to do so. Just effortless confidence. I wandered over and stood by his shoulder as he looked through the two cameras, reviewed the angle on the monitors placed just out of their line of sight.
“You good, Nat?”
“I’m good, Boots. I’ve done this sort of stuff before. This interview is going to be split and broadcast in three sections. First off, they’ll set the scene, remind the viewers of who I am and discuss briefly the mysteries they have hyped up a little over the last few days? Who was singing alongside Elizabeth at the July 4 concert? That’s when I’ll tell them who you are. They’ll probably run some footage from the concert with that. Then in the second bit, they’ll show that blurry footage from the diner up at Lake Erie and I’ll confirm it was us that bought that guy his dinner. Third phase will be a bit more open, a kind of quick back and forth chat about what I’ve done since the end of the college year, probably mainly centred on our trip. That’s where I’ll try and work in something about our ideas for raising money for preserving USS Olympia. They’ll play all of those three stages at short intervals throughout the morning between ad breaks, then edit the best takes into a single minute or so of footage to run on all their news bulletins way into the evening. Plenty of coverage. I’ll do pop proud.”
One of the tv crew came over to us and smiled at Nat, asked him to sit on one of the chairs for a moment to allow them to do a final check of viewing angles, exposure and sound levels. Nat obliged, then started to head back to me. Before he could get here, he was ambushed again.
“Sorry, Boots, I need to go for my beauty treatment. Back in a minute.”
I laughed as Nat was led away to an awning attached to the side of the big van type thing and a young lady fussed over him, brushed his hair, dabbed some stuff on his face - “Dampens out reflections from this bright sun, Boots” - and then finally let him go. A big countdown clock had been started and placed on the floor beside the camera. An autocue projector screen was alongside it. Just three minutes to go.
The two PR aides were right by our side now, gently easing me to one side as they gave Nat a last-minute briefing, a reminder really of what he’s been taught, I guess.
“Concentrate on Lorna, Nat, don’t look at the camera unless and until you want to make a significant point. Then you’re looking straight into the viewer’s living room. Use the technique sparingly. Keep an eye on the clock, but not obviously. The autocue too, but again, not obviously. It’s there to help Lorna, remind her of her questions, and provide feedback from the studio. If you have the angle to see it, it’ll tip you off about what’s coming next. Remember, we have that ten-minute transmission delay. Anything you’re uncomfortable about, signal us, we’ll stop things and do a re-run or kill the interview dead if they have gone too far. You ready?”
Nat’s ready. He’s pushing back between the aides to me. Letting them know he’s finished with them. Barely a minute to go. Lorna’s already on the stage, cool as a cucumber, sat on a chair facing the sofa where Nat will sit when he walks on and she introduces him.
“Good luck, Nat.”
“Thanks, Boots. You’ll get the best view from over there with pop. Try not to sneeze though, it’ll ruin the take and I might have to do it again…”
One of the camera crew chuckled, helping relieve the nervous tension that was clearly building up. There are thirty seconds left. Lorna’s nodded to the camera crews. The director or producer or whoever he is that’s hovering between the cameras has signalled for quiet, pointed to the clock. Nat is waiting for his signal to step into view, take those few steps across the decking and be welcomed by Lorna.
I need to go and get over by Nat’s pop.
Nat’s given me a last smile before turning to face Lorna, about to step into sight when the producer guy drops his hand. As quietly as I could, I took a couple of steps backward and started to move round to stand with Nat’s dad – making sure not to trip over any cables! Last thing they need is me pulling a lead out and killing the transmission just as they go on air.
The autocue has just flashed up a picture of the anchor back in the studio, superimposed over which is the countdown clock and some text. That’s neat! I didn’t know Lorna could see that, I’d assumed she only had an audio feed from the studio via an earpiece. I wonder if Nat will be able to see it from his place on the sofa?
Somebody’s just passed me an ear piece. I can hear the studio feed now too. The producer has dropped his hand. We’re about to go live. Nat’s ready to step up…
* * *
“Now, from that piece filmed just half an hour ago on the disruption being caused down in the 40th Street bridge area by those overnight roadworks which have over-run, we move onto another, much happier topic but again presented by our ‘Traffic Lady’ in another of her ‘Lorna Dellville at Large’ series. Lorna what have you got for us this morning? And where are you? It sure looks like a pretty nice location…”
“Hi Tim, great to be back with you again. As you can see, I’m down by the Ohio and yes, this is a great place. I’m hosting this special from the grounds of Lieutenant Governor Bauer’s home and boy; do we have a programme for you today! Not only that, but we have a very special guest to help us clear up not one but two mysteries that we’ve been talking about on air for over a week now. Joining me right now is Nathan Bauer. Nathan, welcome…”
Nat’s stepped forward, walked nonchalantly across to Lorna who’s stood up to meet him, shook her hand.
“Please, Lorna, sit down, and welcome. It’s good to have you here.”
Nat’s pop is smiling, the aides too. They can see Nat’s already ‘asserting his presence’ as they kept saying earlier. Nat’s just thrown a glance at the camera as he sat down on the sofa, smiled directly at it, at the viewers, then turned to Laura. She’s not flustered. She knows Nat by now, I guess.
My earpiece is crackling again.
“Lorna, refresh our memories: that’s the same Nathan Bauer who was one of the stars of our recent, award winning, mini-documentary series on Allegheny River Military College isn’t it? And who assisted you with that amazing helicopter rescue in last winter’s Lakes Snow Dump?”
That anchor guy’s got a bit of cheek! From what I heard, it was Nathan and the guys who did the hard work. Practically handed KWT-TV their story on a plate! Nat’s not rising to it, he’s just adjusted his shirt cuffs and smiled, waiting for Lorna and the anchor to finish their introductory exchange. His pop is smiling too. This looks to be starting well. Nat’s in his comfort zone.
“The very same, Tim. Cadet Sergeant-Major Nathan Bauer, to give him his full title. The very first at the college, so I believe. And also one of the key figures who can help us solve the identity of the ‘Mystery Singer’ that everyone has been talking about since the July 4th concert down at Point State Park.”
“Ah, yes, Lorna, a mystery indeed. And one which you promised our viewers we would solve for them, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Tim, and now with Nathan’s help we’re going to do so in a minute or two. But first, perhaps you could play us that footage of the concert that piqued everyone’s interest?”
The image on the autocue is flickering, changing. I can see it from here, but I’m not sure Nat can from where he’s sat. He’s not close enough to Lorna to have the same viewing angle. She’s definitely got an advantage over him there. The new picture’s some film of the concert. Nat playing his sax, waiting for the spotlights to shift over to the fountain where he was expecting Elizabeth to appear. And where he had no idea I was about to be.
Nat’s just glanced over to the monitor between the cameras. He can see the footage there. I’d forgotten about that one. He still doesn’t get to see Lorna’s feed and prompts though, just the imagery they let him see.
Nat’s smiling as he watches the spotlights switch over to the fountain. Pick out Elizabeth in her amazing red dress. Then me. Bloody Hell, I look petrified! Nat’s smiling at Lorna.
“Oh yes, I think I know at least one of those two. The one in the dress, totally unmistakable. That’s my big sister, Elizabeth. I’ve known her for years… As for the other guy, well, let me think. I’m not so sure about him.”
Lorna’s smiling. She’s happy for Nat to prolong the tension, help build things up ready for the big unveil. They seem to understand each other. They both want this to be good viewing.
I can help there.
Remember what dad said about me adjusting to Nathan’s world, like he adjusted to mine? My promise to Nathan that I had his back?
I looked across to Nathan, caught his eye. Stepped forward and up onto the decking. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the producer freeze. Lorna looked startled. The PR aides standing by Nat’s pop looked as if they were about to have kittens. I strode over towards Nat, ignoring the cameras spinning to cover me.
“Hi bud, remember me?”
