They landed after dusk. By the time Dalia pulled the plane inside a rusty hangar, the plantation had vanished as night fell. Dalia’s farmers, who held lanterns, helped her new guests out of the plane and to the main house. As they walked over soft earth hundreds of birds called out whistles, squawks, and screams. It felt prehistoric. Grigsby walked slowly, taking in the scene.
“Keep up Grigsby, you can lost here when the light goes away.” Dalia said.
Grigsby jogged up beside her.
“Thanks,” Grigsby said, looking into her eyes as they walked. He went to speak but couldn’t find the right words.
“Things may not have ended the way we thought it would, but I still care for you Grigsby.” Dalia said.
Grigsby nodded. “Agreed. Have you found someone else?”
“No. I’ve been busy turning this little coffee farm into an empire.”
Grigsby nudged her with a smirk, “You titan,”
Dalia smiled, “I may have learned a thing or two from you,”
They laughed as they entered the main house. The staff showed Ryūki and Grigsby to their rooms while a doctor checked out Ira’s injuries. After Grigsby showered he called home. Bunny was speechless, then upset, then relieved. “I’ll be home soon.” He said.
Once Grigsby hung up, the satellite phone rang. Grigsby didn’t recognize the number. He answered it and a man spoke in rapid fire Japanese.
“What?” Grigsby said. “English dammit!”
The man stopped speaking and cleared his throat, “This is Mr. Pemberton yes? Grigsby Ives Pemberton, from America?”
“Yes, how the hell did you get this number? Who is this?”
“This is Mr. Hayakawa, we met in Tokyo 3 months ago.”
“Right! I remember you, we sang karaoke together. ‘I see a little silhouetto of a man, Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango—‘”
“Mr. Pemberton. This is serious.”
“Oh well, you’re no fun during the day.”
“Sir, I want to discuss the game show we were meeting about.”
“The one with the ferry?”
“Yes. We’re prepared to offer Pemberton Investments the rights to make your own show in the United States. Grigsby would you be interested?”