16
It is said that when his ministers and the entire entourage entered the Ruler’s sick chamber, he did not greet them with the usual preliminaries: how are you, where have you been, thanks for coming, or thank God I am now feeling better. He simply started talking as if resuming the interrupted luncheon. Even the letter delivered by the messenger of the Global Courier Services, Manhattan, was in his hands, exactly the way he held it the day Machokali handed it to him, and he kept on waving it as a prop, evidence and talisman.
“Yes, if my skin was white, would the directors of the Global Bank have insulted me as they have in this letter?” he asked the ministers, who roared back a resounding NOOO!
To say that the ministers were astounded is to understate their various expressions of relief and disbelief. The Ruler was panting as if he had not gotten used to the burden of speech, though his body showed not the slightest sign of deflating. But at least it no longer seemed on the verge of bursting. So his words, whatever their sense, were most welcome to their ears.
“I have thought a great deal about the letter, and I have decided that we have to take up the challenge and come up with arguments that can and will make the governors of the Global Bank change their minds.”
Even though they had many unanswered questions, they all gave him a thunderous ovation. This time, he told them, he would not write a paper; he would press the case in person, through oral arguments. He asked Machokali to draft a quick note inviting the governors of the Global Bank to a meeting in the hotel the following day, to hear additional facts and arguments in support of the funding for Marching to Heaven. Give the note to the same messenger who was here a few minutes ago, the Ruler told him, confusing the Wizard of the Crow with the messenger from the Global Courier Services.
Machokali went out and came back in the room to report that though he found the messenger already gone, he had personally faxed the note and followed it up with a telephone conversation, and he was now proud to announce that the wishes of the Ruler had borne fruit, that though the directors regretted that they would not be able to make it the next day or the following, they had assured Machokali that representatives would be sent within seven days for a hearing. Machokali waved the faxed confirmation in celebration of the concession won from the bankers.
The Ruler signaled satisfaction. Now before his ministers, he planned to rehearse his oral arguments, to their great delight and unabashed admiration. They clapped in appreciation for the privilege of a preview.
“Listen carefully, for I may use the same speech in my address to the United Nations General Assembly. Assume that you are now the directors of the Global Bank,” he told the ministers, “and even the United Nations General Assembly …”
The man’s unfathomable and indefatigable mind always intrigued them; they were now willing captives to what promised to be an incredible performance.