Fumio introduced me to the consul general. He apparently spoke English well enough to understand anything that was said to him, but since any statement he made was deemed an official pronouncement of his government, he addressed others only through an interpreter, to be certain he didn’t misspeak.

“The consul general says he and Mrs. Sakada are excited to have today’s performance ahead of them,” stated the interpreter after the consul general had made a comment in my direction. We all nodded enthusiastic agreement as I thought, And once they’ve heard it, I’m sure they’ll be thrilled they have it behind them.

I walked over to Kat, who looked gravely concerned. “Listen, Ray, I have done the best I can, but I can make no guarantee it will be sounding much better than yesterday.”

“I understand, Kat.” I gestured to the envelope I’d been walking around with. “Look, I have a little presentation to make here. Could I leave this within your piano so I have it handy?” There is an area inside an open grand piano, near its crook, where singers can stash Kleenex, glasses of water, flowers, crib sheets. Kat said that would be fine. I added, “And say, why don’t you let me introduce the number? Maybe I can frame it in a favorable way.”

He nodded gratefully. “Yes, thanks. This performance has my nuts in a vise, I’ll tell you.”

At three-thirty, all were seated in the rock garden. A pleasant breeze danced around the open space. Fumio introduced various dignitaries and board members from opera and ballet companies, from regional symphonies and music schools, as Gail had once told me would be there. What a shame that she wasn’t here. But, of course, I was forgetting for a moment that Gail wasn’t a composer. The only true importance of this concert for her was to get Swing into a trunk and onto a ship headed for Japan.

Kat was introduced, and he talked about the honor of the Golden Gate International Exposition being included on the orchestra’s world tour promoting better international relations. He then led his band in a jazz medley of folk songs from different countries. It proved that in the hands of the Pan-Pacific Orchestra there wasn’t all that much difference between an Irish fling and a Russian mazurka, but the number received polite applause.

Then Kat, hoping to hand off all responsibility for what would follow, said he was now proud to introduce the famous American arranger and jazz musician who had helped make possible this world premiere.

I stood before the assembled audience, who looked up at me expectantly. My eyes searched the crowd for Gail, but I was clearly going to have to handle this alone.