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Curt Steiger
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The rains poured intermittently while I sat at my office desk in Hong Kong reading documents. I looked up as a senior partner barged in and said, “Curt, did you see those patent applications I left on your desk last night?”
“Yes, I reviewed them and think —”
“Hold on a second, I need to speak with another associate,” he mumbled and ran off.
While waiting for my boss to return, I checked Facebook quickly and noticed a post by my former classmate, Lana Hayaak. She was a year behind me and had a summer job in Shanghai. I was envious because I wanted a position on the Mainland.
I was taken aback the first time I saw Lana because she didn’t look like a law student. I don’t remember what she wore, but it was conservative yet stylish. She reminded me of an actress from a black-and-white film Mom watched when I was growing up in the Midwest.
Lana had black hair, a fair-skinned oval face, and almond-shaped eyes. Her features were delicately chiseled and defined by details such as a widow’s peak, accentuated lips with a cupid’s bow, high cheekbones, and a pointed nose.
In the heart of Silicon Valley, characterized by cutting-edge technology, innovation, and masculinity, Lana was like a wildflower in the middle of the law school’s neatly manicured lawn. In other words, she didn’t entirely belong.
FLASHBACK 2008
Last August, I was on my way to a corporate law class when I saw Lana running up the path. She looked troubled as she tried to balance casebooks while clutching her laptop bag. Accidentally, her skirt had gotten hiked up, and she looked embarrassed while struggling to adjust it.
When I got to class I chose a seat directly behind Lana who was busy organizing her notes. She opened her laptop, and an electronic cat popped up and cried loudly. I expected our Professor to be irritated, but he turned to her, laughed, and asked, “Is that your cat?” She nodded shyly.
The class became suddenly quiet as our professor began to lecture:
“Dodge claimed that Ford was abusing power because he had no justifiable business reason for refusing to distribute dividends. Can someone please tell me why Ford chose to do this?”
Eager hands, including my own, shot up. Our professor glanced around the room, but his eyes fell upon the woman in front of me. “Lana?” he asked with a grin.
“Ford wanted to benefit society,” she answered.
“Um, no,” Professor Beale said. He looked disappointed. “Someone else?”
Classmates around me raised their hands aggressively like hungry hawks lunging in for the kill.
I raised mine and said, “Henry Ford wanted to discontinue dividends for shareholders in order to increase investments in other plants. That way Ford Motor Company could dramatically increase production thereby decreasing costs and the prices of cars.”
Professor Beale nodded and said, “Excellent, Curt.”
After class was over, swarms of students flocked to the instructor’s side like an order of angry flies.
As I walked out of class I tried to catch Lana’s eye, but she didn’t see me. I figured she was embarrassed by her weak answer. She ventured over to the library, so I followed her up a flight of Spanish-tile steps. Lana strolled into the office of an international law professor who was visiting from a leading Midwestern university.
I could hear everything because the door was wide open:
“Professor Fitzgerald, I have serious issues with the assigned reading.”
“What’s the problem, Lana?”
“With all due respect, it’s apologist propaganda.”
“If you have a problem with my syllabus then you can take it up with the Board of Trustees.”
“I don’t want to do that,” she exclaimed.
“Lana, I was teasing you. I have survived numerous Deans at my own law school. This one is uniquely tolerant.”
“We’re lucky to have you.”
“Thank you, I’m happy to be here.”
“Professor Fitzgerald, what was it like representing the North African leader —”
I was now bored by this conversation and walked away as I heard Lana mention the name of a notorious dictator.
A few hours later, I saw her studying at a table outside the library. She stopped reading to watch a pair of squirrels chase one another up a palm tree. I took the opportunity to approach and said,
“Hey Lana, what do you think of our corporate law class?”
“It’s alright,” she said with hesitation. “I’m sorry, but I forgot your name.”
“Curt Steiger.”
“That’s German, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I was born in Stuttgart, but moved to Chicago when I was eight.” I was surprised by her interest, because no one ever cared.
“You don’t have a German accent,” Lana observed with the playful curiosity of a kitten.
“Ah, well, as children we lose our accent if we learn English before age nine.”
Lana nodded, then with a coy expression said, “Doesn’t Steiger mean ‘womanizer’ in German?”
“It doesn’t,” I protested with mild irritation, “It means ‘to climb.’”
“I see.” Lana grinned and asked, “But what do you seek to climb?”
I ignored her silliness. “I’m kind of struggling with corporate law. Do you think you could tutor me?” This was a lie because I was at the top of my class. If anyone needed help, it was Lana.
She looked flattered, smiled brightly, and exclaimed, “Sure, Curt, I would love to help you.”
Not with your C average, I thought snidely. This was guaranteed to be fun.
I heard bold footsteps approaching. The senior partner was back and said, “Steiger, this will have to wait until Monday. Please go home.”
I packed my briefcase and left the office while thinking about my career. Six months ago, I was a pharmaceutical scientist and part-time law student. Now, I was an IP attorney at a leading firm. I liked my practice but envisioned a more powerful future.
I crossed the congested intersection and headed up the hill towards Lan Kwai Fong, a trendy European district. I was meeting Cindy, an old friend, for dinner. Despite being an hour late, I didn’t worry much because she was always a great sport.