“Did you?”
“Of course.” Albert lifted his eyebrows. “It’s exactly what I would have said.”
Dante smiled and gave a little laugh. He was surprised to find that being compared to his father didn’t quite irk him as much as it did before. He turned the key in the ignition.
“Well, I guess we should go back to the hotel. I’d hate for you to be late for your second career.” Dante pulled out of the driveway.
Dante headed toward the highway that ran to the hotel where they were staying. It was a run-down sort of place, but it was quiet and clean. If someone updated it to the current decade with new paint, carpet and fixtures, it would be a nice hotel near the ocean. For what they needed it to be, it served them just fine.
Dante pulled into the parking space outside their ground floor room. When they opened the door, Bob sat on one of the twin beds, watching TV. Albert and Dante sat down beside him. They explained the new plan of attack. Bob protested, but eventually relented to their logic. Bob and Dante spent the rest of the night helping Albert pull together a false resume.
First thing the next morning, Albert put on a button-down shirt and some loose khaki pants. He pulled a floppy sun hat out of his suitcase, laying it on the bed. Dante watched his father reach into a hidden pocket in his suitcase, extracting a false social security card and license. Albert took out his real license, stored it in his bag, then stuck his new identity into his wallet.
“Ready to go?” Dante gestured to the door.
“Yes.” Albert snapped his wallet closed. “I will only answer to Jesse from now on, understand?”
“I think I’ll just stick with Dad.” Dante, the newly created Jesse, and Bob drove to the resort management office. While the head landscape artist interviewed his father, Dante tested the sound recording equipment, to make sure he would be able to hear his father without any problems.
After a short interview, the manager sounded impressed. He excused himself to go into his office to call Jesse’s references. After a few minutes, Dante got a call on his cell phone. He went into his rehearsed and well thought out opinion of Jesse: his work ethic, knowledge of plant life, strengths and weaknesses. The manager sounded ecstatic as he hung up the phone. Then Bob got a phone call. He went through his own version of the speech.
After his ten-minute conversation with Bob, the manager emerged from his office and offered Jesse the position. The manager asked Jesse when he could start, and Jesse told him he could start anytime, so the manager asked him to come back the next day. He gave Jesse a polo shirt with the resort logo right before he left. Albert emerged from the office victorious. On the way back to the hotel, they stopped at a bookstore so they could pick up a couple of books on native Hawaiian horticulture. ‘Jesse’ spent the rest of the day learning about the exotic plants growing all around the island.
The next morning, Bob and Dante dropped Albert off at work before they drove over to the hiding spot near Kaimi’s suspected hideout. It was a long wait, well into the late afternoon, until they started picking up Albert’s signal. The landscaping van drove past them up the hill to the mansion. Albert wasn’t alone; his new boss was with him.
“Jesse,” they heard through the mic. “This next owner doesn’t like new people, so don’t take it personally. He’s a paranoid guy. There’s always a few security guards around, and when he’s home he’ll watch you while you’re working.”
“Sounds like a pretty private man,” Jesse said. “What’s his name?”
“Yes, private—very private. Kimo Kimura. His wife can also be a bit demanding. Very loud and demanding. She tends to want everything a certain way. If she’s not happy with what you’ve done, she can get pretty mad.”
“Sounds like a fun house, Mike,” Jesse replied.
“Yeah. Of all the owners, these people can be the most stressful to deal with. So if you can handle them, you’ve got it made,” Mike replied.
Dante and Bob heard the car door slam. They heard more muffled sounds as the gardening van door slid open and equipment was retrieved from the truck. Mike greeted the two security guards.
“Who is this?” one of the guards asked.
“New hire, guys. This is Jesse Birch. Jesse this is Mitch and Carl.”
“Boss needs to meet him,” the security guard said without missing a beat.
“Sure!” Mike replied. “Is he in the office?”
Dante smiled over his iced coffee. Mike’s voice had gone up half an octave. His nervousness oozed out from their receiver in the rental car.
“Yeah, and he’s not going to be in the best mood either. Good luck,” said the other guard.
“Thanks for letting us know,” Mike said. There was some rustling and footsteps before Mike continued in a whisper. “Just let me do all the talking. I mean, answer his questions, but just let me handle the rest.”
The sound of footsteps stopped a little while later, and there was a knock. There were some muffled sounds until Jesse said, “Sounds like an argument. Maybe we should just come back?”
Dante smiled while Bob chuckled at Albert’s sly narration. Then they heard a heavy wooden door fly open.
“I told you—” the voice stopped cold and there was an awkward pause.
“Uh, hi, Mr. Kimura. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I just wanted to introduce you to our new assistant landscape artist, Jesse,” Mike said.
“A new hire?” asked Mr. Kimura.
Mr. Kimura’s voice was silky, elegant, but sharp. Dante heard the suspicion there too, in the low rumble of his three-word question. Dante gripped his coffee cup tighter. He held his breath as he listened.
“Yes. Jesse’s from outside Honolulu. His son and grandson live here though,” Mike answered.
“Come in,” Mr. Kimura said. The door creaked as it opened. There were some footfalls and muffled noises before Mr. Kimura continued. “So, Mr. Birch, who have you worked for?”
Jesse rattled off the first three positions from his resume. There was a pause.
“You ever worked anywhere else? Done anything besides gardening?” he asked.
“I’ve worked a few other places, but those are the most recent. Wanted to be a landscaper my whole life though. Never did anything else,” Jesse answered.
“You sound like a mainlander,” Mr. Kimura stated. It sounded more like an accusation.
“Yeah, I grew up mainland,” Jesse said. “Back east. But in college, I took a trip out here with a few buddies, met a girl. After college, I married her and moved here.”
There was a thoughtful pause.
“Must be a very pretty woman,” Mr. Kimura said. Jesse chuckled.
“Yes she was,” Jesse replied. “She passed a year or so ago. My son convinced me to move here. He wants to keep an eye on me, I guess.”
Albert’s voice had turned to just the right mixture of sadness, acceptance, and underlying good humor. It made Dante shift in his seat as he put down his coffee.
“I hate that he’s so good at this,” Bob said to Dante.
Dante nodded. He didn’t know whether he should be alarmed or impressed that his father could make up an entire life for himself on the spot.
“Sounds like your son is an honorable man,” Mr. Kimura replied.
“Well, that’s why I let him think he’s taking care of me,” Jesse told him. The men all seemed to chuckle. “But, you know, I hate being cooped up. I need some fresh air and sunshine. I convinced him to let me take on gardening again. Just part-time.”
“Hmmm. Where did you say you lived near Honolulu?” Mr. Kimura asked.
“Manoa,” Jesse answered.
“Ah, there is a great bakery in Manoa—a famous one. What’s it called again?” Mr. Kimura asked.
Dante and Bob tensed. They leaned toward the speakers, as a long paused settled in.
“A bakery?” Jesse asked.
“Yes, yes. Great malasadas. Do you know its name? I can’t think of it just now. A tiny little place, but you must know it, everyone goes there. It’s famous,” Mr. Kimura continued.