Double Whammy

I met with Mr. Louie promptly at two that afternoon and he ushered me into his office. He was a balding, mid-fifties Asian man with bad teeth and a rumpled suit. I began to wonder if maybe he couldn't afford proper translation services, and was just looking for someone who worked cheap. On the other hand, Paula had said she was happy working with him, so the least I could do was to listen.

"I import many machines from China and Thailand. Some are for plastics manufacturing and some for molding containers. Others are for woodworking. The instructions they send are in Chinese and then someone has tried to translate them into English. Even I cannot tell what they are trying to explain. I have to read the Chinese to find out. My customers are usually not Chinese, so I need to have good English instructions.

"Now I want to sell to chain stores, and in Québec. I must have French instructions before they will take my products. I am paying very high prices for translation services, and then I have to go back more than once because they do not understand the machinery and how it functions. I need someone who can understand the equipment and the instructions." He finished and sat quietly, his fingers gabled in front of his chest.

"I understand your problem. The only thing I can suggest is that we give it a try and then, if I can do the work, we can work out a fee schedule that works for both of us. Agreed?"

"Yes. That is a good suggestion. I hope you can do this job. It would be very helpful to my business and I would make it worthwhile for you," he promised.

"Why don't you give me an example and we'll see how it goes. I can work here or I can take it home and bring it back tomorrow, or when I am done."

"I think you would find my computer difficult to use," he smiled. "I suggest you use your machine and let me know when you are finished. We can review the results then."

"Good. If you'll show me the instructions, I'll get going."

He walked to a side table and took a thin, multi-page folder off the top of a pile and handed it to me. "Come with me," he said.

He took me out into his warehouse and I was immediately surrounded by crates of equipment as well as open machinery sitting on the floor. It was all new and painted. Some pieces I recognized and others I did not.

"This is the machine that your instructions are for. Please look it over. If you have any questions, please ask."

I nodded as he stood by me while I compared the drawings on the manual with the actual machine. They looked identical, but appearances can be deceiving.

"How would you rate the accuracy of these drawings?" I asked him.

"Most of them are quite good. Occasionally, they will send old drawings with new machines and that causes much difficulty. Then I have to go back to the factory and wait for new drawings. I have machines on the floor that I have paid for which I cannot sell. Very bad for business."

"I can imagine. Well, this set of drawings looks pretty much like this machine, so I'll get started and if I run into problems, I'll call you. This first job is a free trial, as I said. I want to find out if I can do this job, and then find out if I can make a living at it."

He nodded with a smile. "A wise precaution."

I slid into my car and started for home. I was really up and fervently hoping this was going to turn out to be something worthwhile. It had nothing to do with my previous job, but on the surface it was so much more interesting. If I could make it work, I was sure I would be happier.

It didn't take long for Judy to pour cold water on it.

"What do you know about machinery? How can you possibly make any money out of this?"

"Well, I've talked to someone who already is making a living at it. She works from home most of the time, which is what I would like to be able to do."

"Oh, great. You sit around all day, drinking coffee while I work my butt off in the lab."

"Why do you think that? If I take the job, it's true I would be doing it here. It would also cut our expenses. No commuting. Seems to me, it would be a better situation for us."

"You're going to have to show me that you can earn a living, Jake. I have my doubts. It can't be that easy or everyone would be doing it."

"Well, keep in mind that I have a mechanical mind as well as some skills in writing. On top of that, I am bilingual, which isn't common in this part of the country. I think I've got a good chance, but I won't know until I try."

"How much is this guy paying you for this job?"

"Nothing. It's a freebie to show him I can do the job, and then I can figure out what my time is worth. If I set a price now it may be too low, and then I'll have a hell of a time getting it up to where it should be."

"Great. You work for nothing just to get a job you don't know if you can do, or how much it pays. Just great," she said, stomping out of the room toward the kitchen.

That really good feeling had just evaporated. Maybe it would come back when I proved that I could do the work and it paid well. Maybe.

I couldn't wait to get started and right after we finished the dinner dishes, I was off to our home office and onto the computer. I pulled out the English version of the instructions and began to read. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was mangled so badly that any idea you could instruct someone on the maintenance and operation of this machine was a fantasy. I took a deep breath and began.

I quit at midnight when the oncoming headache reached its peak. My neck was stiff from attempting to understand what they were trying to say and then getting it down on the word processor. I had managed about a page and a half of the six page instructions. It was slow going, but gradually I was beginning to see a pattern developing. It took one hour just to do the first paragraph, while the last one I tackled took a little less than thirty minutes.

Judy had long since gone to bed when I finally turned out the light and headed off to our bedroom. I was sure I would sleep well, I could feel the fatigue from my concentrated effort, and after taking a couple of Tylenol, I slipped into our bed and almost instantly fell asleep.

When I awoke, Judy was already up and dressed, having her usual yoghurt and granola breakfast. She didn't drink coffee, so it was no surprise there was none made. I, on the other hand, was now a confirmed coffeeholic. At least until about eleven am, when I usually quit. I said good morning and she mumbled something that might have been similar. Two minutes later she was up, and after giving me her usual perfunctory peck on the cheek, she was on her way to work. I looked at the clock. Seven-ten am.

I went back to our office and began reviewing last night's work. I saw a couple of small errors that I had missed early on, but other than that, it looked pretty good. I picked up where I left off, and within a few minutes I was rolling again. I was on my second or third cup of coffee when I heard a familiar voice.

"Yoo-hoo! It's me again, handsome," Cindy called from the back door. I could almost hear the smile in her voice.

"Come on in, Cindy. Grab a coffee. I'm in my office."

I heard her open the cupboard and then the fridge and a moment or so later, she wandered into the office.

"My, my, aren't you the picture of elegance," she said sarcastically.

I was sitting in my normal nightwear; t-shirt and boxers. Happily, my fly wasn't open.

"Just because I haven't shaved, brushed my teeth, showered or dressed, is no reason to think I'm a slob," I shot back.

Cindy just laughed. "It's a good thing you're handsome, handsome. Whatcha workin' on?"

"Well, I'm am currently on page three of six, translating the instructions for the operation and maintenance of the Heavenly Blossom Model 356 K 14" thickness planer," I stated emphatically.

Cindy burst out laughing again. "Where do they get those goofy names from?"

I shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. However, this test drive is tougher than I thought. I spent five hours last night just getting the first page and a half done. I think I've figured out the lingo now, so it's going much quicker. I should have this finished by noon, and I can start on the French."

"And you're doing this for free?"

"Yeah. You sound like Judy," I said, giving her a stern look.

"Sorry. I take it she wasn't impressed."

"You could say that. However, what will matter to her are the results. In a day or so, I'll know if this is something I can do, and whether it's worth doing."

"Good luck. I have faith in you, Jake. I think you're going to surprise the shit out of Judy."

That was Cindy, for you. Always positive. Always upbeat. Always straight to the point.

We sat sipping our coffees for a couple of minutes before Cindy broke the silence.

"Jake, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, shoot."

"Do you think you and Judy are happy? I mean, really happy?"

I sat for a moment, staring at my coffee cup, not answering the question.

"Never mind. It's none of my business. I'm sorry I asked," she said quietly.

"It is a damn good question, Cindy. A damn good one." I left it at that.

As I expected, I finished the English version about eleven-thirty and called Mr. Louie. I told him I'd have the French done this afternoon and I could drop it off to him at his office. He was surprised and pleased. He told me to come anytime I was ready and he would see me. That gave me a good feeling about this being important to him.

It had been a while since I had written any French, but with the help of my handy dictionary, and having lunch on the fly, I was able to get the French version completed by two-thirty pm. I went over the English version again, then the French once more. I didn't see any errors, but Mr. Louie would be the judge of that.

I dressed in my business clothes once more and headed off to his office to hand in my work. I sat in Mr. Louie's office as he looked over my English version, comparing it to the Chinese version he had beside it. I couldn't tell for sure, but I thought he was spot checking various random paragraphs. I could see him nodding and occasionally circling a word here or there, but basically, making few changes.

He looked up from my work. "Excellent, Mr. Jake. I will send your French and English versions to our translation service for verification. Assuming they approve your French, we have an agreement for your services."

He had called me "Mr. Jake" from the first meeting since trying to pronounce Phaltz was nearly impossible for him.

"How many hours did you spend on this?" he asked.

"Uhhhh ... five last night and six today. Eleven total," I said.

"Very well. I will have a cheque for six hundred-sixty dollars made out to you. You may pick it up tomorrow," he smiled.

"I thought we agreed that this was a free trial? A test to see if I could do the work."

"I am almost certain you can do the work, Mr. Jake. I would not take advantage of you. I will pay for good work. I think we can do very good business together."

"That's very generous. Thank you very much," I said sincerely.

"To what company should I make this cheque?" he asked.

"Uhmmm, why me, I guess. Jacob Phaltz."

He looked at me seriously for a moment. "May I suggest you incorporate yourself? Set up your business. It will save you much trouble in the future. Also, it will deflect liability if there is a problem. I suggest you see a lawyer and get this done. Keep this money separate. You do not want a tax problem. Especially if you become successful," he smiled. "I do not deduct taxes. You have to look after that. You are a contractor in the eyes of Revenue Canada."

"Thank you for the advice. I'll do just that." I rose and shook his hand.

"Please let me know if there is any problem with the French version," I said as I was about to leave.

"Do you not want your next assignment?" he asked, looking surprised.

"Uhmmm, well, yes, of course, if you're satisfied I can do the job," I stammered.

He smiled. "I am satisfied. I will be very surprised if your French version is not as good as your English. I must thank Miss Paula for telling you about me."

He passed me another manual and we walked out back once more. After reviewing the machine and comparing the drawings, I was satisfied it was a current drawing.

We shook hands and I left for home with a definite spring in my step. Sixty dollars an hour. If I worked a standard forty hour week, I would gross over $120,000 annually. Was there that much work available? The stack on Mr. Louie's sideboard looked pretty tall. I couldn't wait to tell Judy. Maybe this would change her opinion of my efforts.

It seemed to mollify Judy that I was being paid and that the rate was substantial. I told her about the stack of work on his desk waiting for my efforts. It seemed to cheer her up quite a bit as a matter of fact. She even decided tonight would be a good night to make love.

I really was feeling a lot better about my future and us. It's funny how quickly things can change from good to bad and back to good again. I also found myself wanting to tell Cindy as well. After all, she was the one who had sparked the idea.

I began work on the next manual the following morning. I was just as anxious to get started as I had been with the first one. This job turned out to be much easier. First, because the machine was more straightforward and mechanically simpler. And second, because I had the experience to figure out what they were trying to say. I finished the English by one that afternoon and the French before supper time. A total of eight hours. I would call Mr. Louie first thing in the morning and arrange to deliver my work.

That evening, I called my investment advisor, Carlo Ponetti, another ex-Montrealer.

"Carlo, I need your advice. I want to set up my own business and I need the name of a lawyer who can help me do that."

"Hey ... you're going into business for yourself?" His voice sounded like it was a happy surprise.

"Yeah. Translation services." I explained the job to him and he was enthusiastic.

"Every time I look at something it's made in China or somewhere in the far east. You'll never run out of business," he proclaimed.

"I hope you're right. Now ... about that contact."

"Yeah ... talk to Don Simmons. He's right here in this building. He specializes in business law and can get you set up properly with all the forms. You'll need to get in touch with Betty and sort out the tax situation. She already does your and Judy's taxes, so she'll know what to do about the new business."

"Thanks, Carlo. I appreciate your help. Maybe I'll have something to put in our retirement savings this year after all."

"Good luck, Jake. I have a feeling you're going to do very well in this venture. Us Montréal guys know how to make things happen, eh?"

"You know it, Carlo. Say hi to Monique for me. Talk to you later."

I called Mr. Louie the next morning and he was happy to hear from me. He told me that the French translation was right on and no changes were necessary. He was anxious to see my next project. I drove to his office later that morning and delivered the next manual.

"Mr. Louie, can we set up something so that I don't have to drive in every day. I can e-mail my translations to you, but maybe if I took a weeks-worth at a time, I could just grind away on them and send you the finished copy when it's done."

"That will be acceptable. Also, if you allow me, I will deposit your payments directly into your account. That way, I don't have to write a cheque and you get your money right away."

"That's great, but I have to set up an account for my business first. I'll let you know when that's done."

"Then we have an agreement. I am very happy to do business with you Mr. Jake. Do you want me to have a contract written for your services?"

"I thought about that. Why don't I talk to my business advisor and see what he thinks. I'll let you know."

"Very well." We shook hands and I left after reviewing five new manuals and five machines. It took a little over an hour, but it was a good investment of my time. One of the drawings had an omission and while it was for the correct machine, I needed to note the omission in my translation. Otherwise, it looked like five fairly straightforward jobs.

By the end of the next week, I had a new career and my own business established. I was calling it Precise Word Services; not terribly catchy, but explanatory. I had filed with the federal government for a G.S.T. (Goods and Services Tax) license number, and I had set up a separate bank account. I even had some business cards printed, and I designed a letterhead I could print on my own. On the advice of my new lawyer, I wrote a Letter of Understanding to Mr. Louie, outlining our agreement for translations from Precise Word Services, and the agreed hourly fee.

I splurged and bought a colour laser printer, keeping the receipt as a business expense. My tax advisor, Betty Jorgensen, gave me some advice on what was and was not legitimate business expense. I would pay close attention to that.

By Thursday morning of that week, I had already finished the five manuals and returned them and the translations to Mr. Louie. I picked up six more, reviewing the machines before leaving the premises. I was beginning to wonder just how many different machines he had and when we were going to run out of manuals. I had booked forty-six hours to Thursday and that made my income for the week almost four thousand dollars when I added Friday in. With the six new items, I would likely more than double that amount.

I was working like crazy in my home office. I don't think Judy saw much of me from the time she got up in the morning until she went to bed. I would come out for dinner and help with the dishes and we would talk about whatever there was to talk about, but I was pretty much invisible for the first few weeks.

Judy was curious. She had shifted from disdain for my efforts to curiosity as she saw how hard I was working. Naturally, she had some questions.

"How often do you get paid?" she asked.

"I get paid for each job I hand in. I'm a contractor. I get a set amount without any taxes or other expenses deducted. It's up to me to look after all the other stuff."

"I could use some help right now. Money's a bit tight since you lost your job," she said, testing the waters.

"OK. How much do you need?"

"Can you spare a thousand?"

"Uhmmm ... yeah ... I think so," I said carefully. I'm not sure why, but I wasn't anxious to share with Judy just how lucrative this new business was. I was pulling down almost three thousand a week, but that meant working fifty hour weeks. My new bank account was showing a balance of nearly fifteen thousand dollars. If Judy knew about that, she would quickly change her opinion of my efforts. But ... for some reason I can't explain, I had decided to be coy about it.

I electronically moved one thousand dollars from my business account into our joint chequing account and told Judy it had been looked after. She seemed a bit surprised, but at least pleased. I was too. I was back to contributing to the household and feeling good about myself again. I had only been out of work for two weeks, so I could hardly claim to have suffered before finding this new career.

I decided to have a meeting with Mr. Louie to see just where this new business was going to go. I had a concern that it would suddenly dry up and I would be back to square one again.

The upshot of the meeting was that he had much more complex machinery here and coming, and that meant much more complex translations. I was going to have many more hours of work ahead of me. I could relax. He was certain it would be a long time before we ran out of manuals.