One Extraordinary Time

ONE EXTRAORDINARY TIME

Jeffrey Kaplan

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 Jeffrey Kaplan

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 1

Saturday, August 18

Freddy was happy, finally at the front of the line after waiting thirty minutes. It was always crowded at the Great NY Bank on a Saturday. Can I help you? a smiling, pretty female teller asked.

Freddy smiled back, wearing his favorite Yankees T-shirt. Yes, can I have please have $50?

The teller could not believe that's all he wanted to withdraw. She smiled. Are you sure that's all you need?

Freddy seemed puzzled by the question and answered politely, That's all I'll need, thank you.

She gave him the fifty and said, Have a nice weekend.

He began to walk out, when the branch manager, Mr. Anderson, called out his name and ran towards him. Mr. Will, one second please. Freddy was startled; he was seldom called by his last name. Mr. Anderson, a distinguished silver-haired man in his late fifties, extended his hand. Mr. Will, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you. Please, here is my card. I have a cell number on it. I am available to you 24/7. We have wonderful investments that will help make your money grow.

Freddy, feeling as if he had entered the Twilight Zone, took the card to humor Anderson.

Okay, that's good to know.

He walked out of the bank as a beaming Anderson shouted, Please, Mr. Will, my pleasure anytime. Smiling, he gave Freddy the thumbs up.

Freddy started walking to his apartment ten blocks away on East 88th Street. His 590 square foot apartment was between 2nd and 3rd Avenue. At a light on the corner of 85th and 3rd, he looked at his receipt. He expected to have about $840 in his account; the receipt read a little differently. Make that very differently, with a lot more zeros. Freddy's eyes went blurry for a second as he saw the number—840 million.

He figured it was either a joke or mistake. He thought to himself, Well it's not April Fools' Day. Working as a waiter, he managed to make good money, about sixty thousand dollars the previous year. Despite being single he wasn't able to save a penny of it. New York City, the land of $2000 a month studio apartments, sky-high taxes and insurance, has a way of sucking money right out of your wallet. He relaxed as he entered his apartment, read the paper and didn't even think about what his bank receipt said. His apartment was practically a shrine to the New Yankee stars past and present. Above his sofa were pictures of Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig together. His wall across the room above his big screen TV was a black and white picture of an intense looking Joe DiMaggio swinging at a pitch. The picture next to DiMaggio was a smiling Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris together on the 1961Yankees, followed by a picture of Reggie Jackson, taking a swing during the famous 1978 season; the Yankees made one of the greatest comebacks ever to win the division from Boston in a one game playoff, going on to beat the Dodgers to win the World Series. His ensemble included pictures of today's Yankee stars like Derek Jeter and Roger Clemens, winners of three straight World Series.

At 3:45, Freddy began to walk to his job on 78th and 2nd, where he worked at China Wok, one of the hottest restaurants in New York. By 8:00 p.m., people lined up around the block to get in. On a good Saturday, he could make over $300 in tips.

Mr. Wong owned the business. Freddy was the only non-family member working at the restaurant. Mr. Wong had his three daughters working as waitresses. He grew fond of Freddy, treating him like the son he never had.

Hi, Mr. Wong, Freddy said as he entered the restaurant.

Mr. Wong smiled broadly. Good to see you this afternoon. Ready for a very busy night?

I'm always ready, Mr. Wong.

Mr. Wong, still smiling, said, Okay, go serve your favorite customer.

The late afternoon and early evening customers tended to be older. They got a great sunset special that was served until 6:30: fifteen different combination platters all under $10. When Freddy was working, the Luntzes would show up every day, never missing the sunset specials.

Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Luntz, a smiling Freddy greeted them.

They both smiled back. Mrs. Luntz said, Did you have a nice day so far?

It's been different, Freddy said, thinking about the $840 million put into his account, making him, at least temporarily, the richest waiter in America. Then he continued, Mrs. Luntz, the number seven, mentioning the same dish she ordered every night—wonton soup, lemon chicken, brown rice, and an egg roll.

I will of course bring you your green tea with lemon. Mr. Luntz, may I assume the number three?

Why, of course, young man. Mr. Luntz smiled as he puffed on his Cuban cigar.

The Luntzes were also a favorite of Mr. Wong; Mr. Luntz was the only person allowed to smoke in his restaurant. They were both in their early eighties. Mr. Luntz bore a striking resemblance to the late actor George Burns; Mrs. Luntz, despite her advanced years, still radiated a classic beauty.

Freddy always had fun with the five cooks, who were all nephews or cousins of Mr. Wong. The head chef was Johnny. Chang, Hong, Lee, and Phil were his assistants. Their delicious meals and speedy service made the customers feel as though the chefs were cooking only for them. Freddy was always amazed how hard they worked, especially when it got busy. His job was a walk in the park compared to theirs.

He brought back the Luntzes' soup and started to make small talk. It was easy to take it slow at 4:15 p.m., they were the only customers in the restaurant. He joked, I must have pull with the chef to get him to cook your order first. Both of them smiled.

Mr. Luntz, puffing away at his cigar, said, This is the best time to come here. I know that in a few hours there will be a line around the block to get in. Then we couldn't schmooze with our favorite waiter.

Mrs. Luntz added, Besides, when you get to be our age, you like it nice and quiet.

Freddy laughed. I can't argue with that.

Mr. Wong came by, smiling. You're spending too much time with these customers.

Mr. Luntz spoke up, Another great thing about coming at this time is the early bird specials. Mr. Wong, not only is this the best Chinese food, but at $10, it's the best deal in the city.

Freddy, laughing, said, Mr. Luntz, you're going to give Mr. Wong ideas about raising his prices.

Mr. Wong, also laughing, said, I'll keep the prices where they are as long as not too many people find out. They all laughed.

Mr. Luntz said, When I was young I used to go to restaurants and clubs late at night. Why, it was so late they would be serving breakfast when I left. As a matter of fact, that's how I met Mrs. Luntz.

Freddy seemed surprised. That's how you met?

Mr. Luntz puffed at his cigar. She was the hostess at the Old Cabot Dinner Theater. Well, when I laid eyes on this beautiful woman nearly fifty years ago, he said, holding his wife's hand, my knees buckled. I was so nervous I couldn't get the courage to ask her out. So I went again the next night, which was Saturday. Saw the same show, and again I couldn't do it. Same thing happened Sunday night!

Freddy was puzzled. Did you go again on Monday? By then you probably knew every line in the show; they could have hired you as an actor.

Mr. Luntz continued, I couldn't go until Tuesday because it was closed till then. The same process happened the next week, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. The only good thing was that they had a different show.

Mrs. Luntz then said, We would have a new show every week.

On Sunday, Mrs. Luntz came over to me and said, 'After the show, would you like to meet our performers?'

Mr. Wong, laughing, said to Mrs. Luntz, So you thought he was coming every night because he was a theater buff.

Mrs. Luntz replied, Yes I thought he loved our shows.

Freddy looked at Mr. Luntz. So when did you get up the nerve to ask her out?

Well, after she introduced me to all the actors and actresses in the show, we talked for about an hour. I finally said to her, 'I have to admit; I don't care about the shows. I just kept coming till I figured out how to ask you out. '

Mrs. Luntz blushed and leaned into his face. I thought that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. I was thrilled to go out with him.

Mr. Luntz, added, I've been on cloud nine ever since. Freddy, Mr. Wong, and Julie, who overheard the conversation, started to clap.

Freddy went back to the kitchen as they bantered back and forth. Johnny had his team prepare a huge quantity of their top ten items. Between 7:00 and 11:00, over 150 customers packed the place. The tables turned over about every hour. That meant over six hundred meals in primetime, and when you throw in lunch, a couple of hundred sunset meals, and a few night owl meals starting after 11:00 p.m., these cooks made over one thousand great meals a day.

Freddy grabbed a quick bite in the kitchen. He glanced at the cooks. I'm counting on you guys to make me look good tonight in front of my customers.

Johnny, smiling, said, Don't worry, we make you look good, and let us know when some sexy woman come in. We'll prepare their dishes extra special.

At the front of the restaurant, Mr. Wong was talking to his daughters, Lea, Jun, and Julie. Lea was the oldest at thirty-two. She was engaged a couple of years ago, but when she caught her fiancé with another woman, their relationship went downhill and the wedding was called off. Jun was thirty, and Julie was the baby at twenty-four. None of the daughters were married and Mr. Wong was dismayed about it. He was in his early sixties and would have loved to have some grandkids. They all carefully prepared the tables, getting ready to serve the onslaught of customers.

Mr. Wong's nephew Phil was wearing his Mets cap as he prepared the food. Freddy loved to kid him. I think this year the Mets might have a chance to beat the Yankees, but you will need to wear two Met hats on your head. Maybe one forward and the other backwards.

Very funny. We would have beat you last year if it wasn't for Clemens' cheap shot at Piazza, Phil shot back.

Oh come on, Clemens was just playing good hard-nose baseball. Besides, we won four games to two. Freddy patted Phil on the back and continued, Three World Championships in a row for the Yankees.

Phil, looking at the headline of the New York Post, responded, Hey, your hero Derek Jeter went 0-4 yesterday, striking out with the bases loaded to end the game.

Johnny, a Yankees fan, jumped in, Don't worry, Phil, the Yankees will be back in the World Series, which is more than I could say about the Mets.

We'll make our move down the stretch, Phil growled back.

Good thing you are better cook than the Mets are a team, Johnny laughed.

Gentlemen, I must get back to my favorite customers, Freddy said.

He handed Mr. Luntz his check. It was always the same amount, $21.74, including tax. Mr. Luntz would always study it, as if seeing it for the first time. Then he would give Freddy three $10 bills, telling him to keep the change, giving him nearly a 40 percent tip.

Freddy and the Luntzes began talking a little politics about embattled New York City Mayor Rudy Giuliani. Mayor Giuliani was once a rising star within the Republican Party.

In recent years he had faced major problems. He had been running against former First Lady Hillary Clinton in what would have been an epic battle for the U.S. Senate, but then dropped out because of prostate cancer. Of late, the daily tabloids (especially the New York Post) had been lampooning his marriage problems. His personal life blew up earlier that year when his wife, Donna Hanover, threw him out of Gracie Mansion after she found out he had an affair with Judith Nathan. He moved into his good friend Howard Koeppel's apartment on the Upper East Side. Koeppel, who happened to be gay, gave him a spare bedroom.

Mr. Luntz said, I heard Giuliani found a new home and a way to be closer to his beloved Yankees.

Okay, I'll take the bait. How did he do that? Freddy asked.

Mr. Luntz replied, The mayor took his pillow, blanket, and toothbrush to sleep in Monument Park at Yankee Stadium.

Freddy continued playing along. Which monument did he sleep next to?

Mr. Luntz, puffing his cigar, said, Why, his favorite, Mickey Mantle of course. He was mumbling to the Mick for advice.

Mr. Wong then said, No wonder the Yankee cap he was wearing at his last press conference had dirt in it.

They all started to laugh. Mr. Luntz then stood and patted Freddy on the shoulder.

Goodnight, kid.

Freddy smiled. Goodnight? It's only 5:30.

When you get to our age, 5:30 is late. Have a nice night. Good night, Mr. Wong.

By 7 p.m. the restaurant was filling up, mostly with young families. Freddy was serving a crying two-year-old in a high chair. He started to jump up and down, making goofy faces to get the baby to stop crying. He looked at the baby's mom and said, What's his name?

Timmy, the mom replied.

Freddy said, Okay, look, Timmy. He put a napkin over his head and pulled it off. Peek-a-boo. Timmy looked curious but continued to cry. Freddy continued to do peeka-boo with the napkin. How can I get this baby to stop crying? Then he started jumping up and down while making a silly face.

Julie looked over and shouted at Freddy, If that doesn't work, try jumping up and down with a bowl of soup on your head.

Freddy smiled back and said, Hey, if I'd had my raincoat on, I'd give it a shot. After a few minutes of watching Freddy's antics, Timmy finally started to laugh. Freddy, out of breath, said, Thank goodness. Wow, that was tough. Okay guys, ready to place your order?

The father laughed. You missed your calling. Broadway awaits.

Freddy replied, I don't think the Rockettes have to worry about losing their jobs.

There were 108 choices and Freddy had them all memorized. Thirty-nine was General Chow's chicken, one of his favorite dishes. Forty-seven was shrimp with lobster sauce. He dropped off his order with Johnny in the kitchen.

Thirty-nine and forty-seven, Johnny shouted out.

Freddy, joking with Johnny, asked, Do you know what dishes they are?

Phil chimed in, Yeah, those numbers represent a choice between the amount of years it will take the Yankees to win the World Series again.

Just then, Julie came in. You guys with your baseball. Here, hotshot, she said, giving Johnny a big order. It's getting busy.

Eight tables in, Freddy's stations were now all full. He was in constant motion, taking orders, filling up water, pouring tea, and occasionally bringing a problem order back to the kitchen. Then he would move on to processing a charge card and removing dirty plates and cups. Freddy received a round of applause from the kitchen as he brought in twenty-four plates and bowls on his tray. Johnny laughed. Looking good, Freddy, looking good!

I only look good as long as I don't drop these plates.

By 8:00 p.m. a line started to form outside of the restaurant. Most of the customers were couples out on dates, but there were some larger parties. Mr. Wong kept them entertained as they waited outside. He told some jokes and served them free wine. They loved him for that, which was pretty amazing, since some customers waited in line for over an hour. He worked the line outside like a politician, and recognized a lot of familiar faces. He walked over to a young man and noticed he was with a different woman from the one who had accompanied him few nights before.

Mr. Todd, looking good as always. I see you brought a special friend tonight. A very special friend indeed, Mr. Wong. This is Suzanne, Todd said.

A pleasure to meet you. I hope you're both hungry. On Saturday night my chefs always make food a little better, Mr. Wong said. Then, with his jug, he filled up their glasses of wine. Todd put his arm around Suzanne, an attractive blonde. He began bragging to Mr. Wong something about how he'd got a big promotion at his company with great benefits and stock options.

Looking at Todd's girlfriend, Mr. Wong said, Your friend here is a genius. He put his hand on Todd's shoulder. You guys have a great time tonight. Mr. Wong smiled knowing Todd made up the story to look good in front of his date. Back in the kitchen, Julie, smiling, caught up with Freddy.

You're going to love the group we just sat at your station.

He looked at her with a smirk. Oh sure, who did you give me?

Julie giggled. Eight women, part of a bachelorette party.

You're kidding! He peeked through the dining area and saw eight women sitting down. Well this is going to be fun.

He walked over to the table where the women were all talking amongst themselves. Ladies, I'm excited to say I will be your server tonight. Has anyone been to our restaurant before? Freddy noticed a bunch of blank looks. So who is walking down the aisle?

An attractive brunette with nice red nails pointed her finger towards the woman right next to her and said, She's getting married next Saturday. Yeah Denise, it's your last week of freedom. She poked Denise, playfully laughing.

Okay then, Denise, your meal tonight is on the house. Congratulations, Freddy said with a nice smile. And remember, all the wine at China Wok is complimentary.

Then, practically in unison, they all said, Keep the wine flowing, especially for Denise.

Freddy promptly returned with four jugs filled with wine and eight glasses of water. When he went back to the kitchen, the boys in the back were all excited about the bachelorette party. Johnny said, Freddy we got to get those women back here.

Freddy couldn't help but laugh. I am sure that will be the highlight of their night to see the kitchen.

Phil, with his Met cap on backwards, said, We could set up a private table back here.

You guys are lame. They are really going to get excited about seeing a kitchen with a bunch of bozos cooking Chinese food, Julie laughed sarcastically.

But Julie, you know the aroma of the kitchen can be intoxicating. Besides, how often would they get to see chefs like Johnny wearing these big white floppy hats? Freddy joked.

That's right. See Julie, Freddy knows. You the man, Freddy! said Johnny, giving him a high-five.

Pathetic. Totally pathetic, Julie giggled. Freddy and the cooks just laughed.

Freddy brought two egg drop soups to a couple seated next to the bachelorette party. The woman was irritated that her husband kept looking over to their table. She said to him, It's a good thing your eyes are attached to your sockets, otherwise they would pop out. Freddy smiled and served their soup. She continued, I think my husband would like to be sitting in the middle of their table.

The husband sheepishly said, Oh honey, that's not true. Besides, they don't even have enough room to fit in an extra chair.

Freddy said, They are an exuberant bunch. Then, winking, he said to the man's wife, He's right; there's no way to fit in another chair.

Good. If he keeps staring at them, he'll join their table head first. She said, looking annoyed.

Freddy shook his head. Enjoy your soup.

He was humming. Besides those two tables, he was handling five other tables. The kitchen was also revved up. Johnny asked Lee to get some supplies. He walked out the back door to the side annex and was stunned to see the length of the line. It ran along 78th Street and continued down towards 1st Ave. When he came back in, he said to his fellow cooks, I've never seen so many people waiting to get in here.

Johnny asked, A big line?

Big? It's huge. Those at the back are going to wait hours! Lee said, exasperated.

Freddy, overhearing the conversation, said, Well it looks like I'm going to have to rush back to our bachelorette party.

Johnny said, I don't care if some people have to wait all night. Keep them here as long as you can, Freddy.

Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you guys serve them their desserts? I'll introduce you the way Ed McMahon used to introduce Johnny Carson. It will be a blast! Hey, with all the drinking they're doing, their judgment may be clouded and you guys may appear to look like suave, good-looking guys."

Lea, shaking her head, smiled and said, For them to see you guys as suave and sophisticated, we need to make the restaurant a lot darker.

Forty-five minutes later Freddy went back to the kitchen. Okay guys, they're ready for the desserts. You can have fun. The bachelorette is drunk and the rest of them are all seriously buzzed!

Johnny said, Okay it's show time.

They grabbed their carts loaded with many exotic desserts. The big, fluffy, white hats went on their heads and they marched into the dining area. Ladies, are you enjoying your dining experience at China Wok? Freddy asked.

They screamed out, Yeah!

Okay it's going to get even better. Your desserts are going to be served by the finest chefs in the city of New York! Freddy put his arm around Johnny. I would like introduce you to our head chef, Johnny, and this is Phil, Lee, Chang, and, of course, Hong. The women applauded.

Johnny said, It is a thrill for us to present these fabulous desserts for your enjoyment. The women, looking at their big, silly hats, started to laugh. Johnny said, Observe, as he lit the baked Alaska. Baked Alaska, fresh strawberries, vanilla, chocolate, and mint chip ice cream, white chocolate mousse, and our famous almond cake and fortune cookies.

Denise said, Wow, it all looks great! She began to applaud and all the other women did so in kind. Their applause became so loud that customers at nearby tables began to look over. Johnny and the cooks were beaming. They looked around smiling and took a bow. Most of the women were giggling and laughing almost uncontrollably. Julie motioned to Mr. Wong to come and see what was going on. He walked in with a big smile on his face.

Mr. Wong said, "Freddy, now I know how you got the chefs out of the kitchen.

Young ladies, I hope my staff has been attending to your needs."

Denise said, They're all fabulous. The meal was terrific and the dessert is extraordinary.

Johnny was now in a state of near euphoria. It's exciting to take care of your needs. He then lifted his business card up in the air. I'm sure all you ladies are going to fight over my card. Who's going to be the lucky one?

The woman next to Denise grabbed it and said, Oh, I'll take it.

Freddy said, Now that's a real valuable card. I'd laminate that if I were you. Of course, she said as she put it in her pocketbook.

For Freddy, their table turned out to be a lot of work and fun. It was also highly rewarding. He was excited when they handed him a $50 tip on a $160 bill. The evening continued with the buzz of customers chatting in the packed restaurant. Time flew by for Freddy. Johnny, Phil, and he talked about the bachelorette party all night.

Johnny asked Freddy, Do you think they'll call us?

Freddy smiled. Yeah, why not? I'm not that good with names but if any of them come back I will immediately tell you and then you can personally serve them any dish your imagination can come up with. You know I never forget a face.

Johnny yelled out, Yeah baby!

It was already 10 o'clock. Freddy went to a table where a couple just sat down. He noticed the guy trying to look macho and laughed. The man was wearing two gold chains and had five buttons open on his shirt. Freddy overheard him bragging about benchpressing 350 pounds. He said to them, Good evening. I hope you're enjoying your night.

The macho guy bounced his head and responded, Yeah. He then looked around the restaurant and said, I'm glad we have you serving instead of those chinks or gooks. Freddy looked stunned. He didn't say anything at first. Mr. Wong had treated him like a son; the Wongs made him feel like part of the team. He was not going to allow this jerk's remark go unanswered.

Freddy tersely responded, Look, these happen to be great, hardworking Chinese Americans. If you talk like that again you're going to be thrown out of the restaurant. Freddy looked at him with total disgust, like he was scum.

The muscular guy was clearly agitated by Freddy's remarks. Yeah, let's see you try to throw me out. He stared at Freddy as he started to stand up. Freddy, not backing down, pulled out his cell phone. I'm dialing 911.

The macho guy was about to charge towards Freddy but his date grabbed him. She mumbled, Come on, Joey, calm down.

Joey looked at her and stared back at Freddy for a few seconds. Freddy, not backing down, stared right back at him. His girlfriend then said, Joey stop, calm down!

His head bounced back and forth. Then, sounding like the famous movie character Rocky, he said, Yo, so I won't call them gooks and chinks. What do you want me to call them?

Freddy turned off his cell phone and answered, Chinese-Americans.

Joey, bobbing his head, replied, Yeah fine. Yo, no problem. He looked at his date.

My girl loves the Chinese food here.

Freddy clipped his cell phone back on his belt clip and asked, Are you ready to order? Joey and his date smiled, clearly relieved that they wouldn't be thrown out. Can we have a couple minutes? Joey's date asked.

Freddy nodded and said, That's fine. I'll come back.

Mr. Wong noticed the outburst and asked Freddy what happened. He didn't want to tell Mr. Wong what that idiot said so he made up a white lie. He was one of those obnoxious Mets fans. You know, my dad told me that in the fifties there were many fights in bars over who was better, Mays or Mantle. Can you imagine that he called Roger Clemens a stiff? Those Mets fans still hold a grudge over last year's World Series.

Mr. Wong, not really believing that's what their argument was about, humored Freddy anyway and said, I can see why he mad and upset. The Mets no good this year. The rest of the night continued to be busy and very profitable for Freddy. Even the Rocky guy ended up giving him a good tip.

Sunday, August 19

Freddy started jogging from his apartment building to the Central Park reservoir. On Sunday mornings, the park had plenty of people: old couples walking, tons of joggers, bicycle riders, roller skaters, people on skateboards, women pushing their babies in strollers. Freddy went into the reservoir and started jogging on the track. Nearly three miles later, sweat was dripping off his brow and his clothes were drenched. He always bought a bottle of water before leaving the park to drink on the way home. He thought about his bank account that now read 840 million. It brought a smile to his face; he knew the bank would correct their error on Monday.

On Sundays, he would use a stop by a local bagel shop on 86th and 2nd. Stan knew Freddy well. Beautiful morning, Freddy, beautiful morning, he said with a smile. Without asking Freddy, he handed him the New York Times, the Post, and a bagel with lox spread on it. His bagel shop was a shrine to New York, with great pictures of the 59th Street Bridge and an aerial photo of the Statue of Liberty. There was also a beautiful picture of lower Manhattan with the majestic World Trade Center in full view.

Are you going to watch today's games? Stan asked.

Yeah I'll probably catch the game before work, Freddy replied.

Say, your dad must be impressed with this group of Yankees. Does he feel these teams are as good as the Yankees of the Mantle days? Stan asked.

"I know he respects this team a lot, but to him those older Yankees teams were heroic. He told me that after my grandfather would put him to bed, he would sneak his radio under his pillow and listen to the games with an