"What?!" bellowed Perkins Dauber
at the news of his recent failure to land the two-million dollar Zigwins
Corporation account, the biggest loss of his 22-year career as CEO of Holdings
Unlimited.
"I'm sorry to hear you didn't get the account,
Mr. Dauber. I'm certain you'll get the next one" consoled his secretary
of ten years, Harriet Bennet.
"Why don't you take a vacation? What's
it been...six years now? I'm sure Valerie misses you horribly; she
used to call your office daily wondering when you'd be coming home for
dinner. I'm sure you can get Frank and Delmore to take care of things
while you're gone."
"Take a vacation! What are you crazy?!
I can't leave now! I've still got a lot of work to do and Frank and
Delmore couldn't handle wiping their own pathetic asses let alone take
over my job for a few weeks. This company would go to shit if I left
for even one day" vented Perkins as he pounded his beefy fists on
his desk. "As a matter of fact, I probably wouldn't have lost that
goddamn account if it weren't for the incompetent morons that work below
me. As punishment, I want a memo sent to all employees stating there
will be no vacations taken for the next year."
"But, sir, it's April; nearly seventy-five percent
of the staff have already booked their vacation time for the summer" pleaded
Harriet who herself had planned a long awaited week with her husband and
three children to visit her ailing parents; probably the last time she
would see them alive. "Do it!" screamed Perkins as his paunchy face reddened,
nearly boiling the rivulets of salty sweat dripping down his face.
"I'm going home. I can't stand being around such incompetence."
As Perkins stormed out of his office, he seemed completely unaware and
unmoved by the tears struggling through the many lines that marked Harriet's
now ashen face.
As Perkins stepped out from his twenty-two-story
multimillion dollar downtown company skyscraper, he was immediately affronted
by blasts of dust filled wind. Taxies raced by in a cacophony
of honks and screeching brakes desperately competing for anyone looking
for a place to go. Ominous dark clouds twisted and belched thunderous
replies at the discontented city below. Another storm seemed to be
on the horizon.
Despite the weather, Perkins decided to trudge
his way to his '97 Rolls Royce parked a mere three blocks away. Fighting
his way through the seemingly endless mob of downtown employees amidst
the biting wind and developing spits of rain, Perkins stumbled forward
nearly falling face first with his six-foot-one-inch 300-pound frame.
"What the f...?" muttered Perkins as he
angrily scanned the area to see what had caused his uncharacteristic blunder.
"Sorry mister" replied the transient sitting
dejectedly on the sidewalk against a building staring vacantly towards
the rushing traffic. Gaunt and lifeless, dirt and sweat cemented
into the creases that painfully charted his 62-year history, the man ruefully
recalled the events that had led to his current situation. "Why don't you
get your sorry ass off of tax payer's property and get a job," spewed
Perkins as he looked disgustedly down at the tattered clothed bearded skeleton
of a man. A faint smile appeared on the man's face as he slowly looked
up into the bulging gray eyes of Perkins. Surprised at the transient's
reaction, Perkins frowned in confusion, snorted, and walked away to continue
his fight against the wind. "Wacko" was the only word Perkins
had to explain the transient's odd response.
Perkins worked fourteen hour days seven days
a week, despite repeated pleas from his wife and children. No one
worked harder than he did and it showed. No one succeeded more than
he did. He developed what was once a small ten employee company into
a booming multimillion dollar 736 employee strong corporation known the
world over for producing high quality information technology systems.
He swore he would be as successful as his father had been even though
he disappeared when Perkins was only eight years old.
Valerie and the kids just don't understand business
and what it takes to make something out of nothing; they seem oblivious
to the value of success Perkins thought. He had told his family many
times over that they were going to spend plenty of time together once he
got the business past a certain degree of success. He was only 42
years old and still had lots of years yet to play with the wife and kids;
all they had to do was be patient.
First things first and business
was first.
Perkins pulled into the driveway of his four
story five thousand square foot home at around seven in the evening, early
for most days. As his struggled to remove his bulky frame from the
car, he felt a strange sense of emptiness surround him. The echo
from closing his vehicle door seemed to permeate throughout the garage
and house. As Perkins entered the main foyer, he noticed that all
the lights were shut off.
Slightly annoyed that this meant
dinner probably wasn't ready yet, he called out to his wife, "Hey!
Valerie! Chad! Franklin! Where the hell is everybody,
I'm hungry!" He sat motionless for a few moments awaiting a reply
before making his way to the kitchen. No dinner.
As he scavenged around in the cupboards and
fridge in search of something to eat, he noticed a letter on the kitchen
table. Curious, Perkins picked up the letter and began to read.
As the words in the letter started to sink in, Perkins slowly slumped into
a nearby chair and began massaging his temples. Valerie had left
him and had taken the boys with her. Twenty-two years of marriage
gone.
Perkins pain and loss quickly turned to anger
and disbelief.
"She won't leave me...she'll be back...she can't
possibly live without me. I gave her everything, her and the kids,
and for what?! I work damn hard so they can have everything they
could ever want! I don't have time for this crap...I gotta go to
bed. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow." Seemingly unscathed
by the loss of his family, Perkins retired to bed for a restful night's
sleep.
The next day was another busy one for Perkins;
one that lasted thirteen hours before he finally left. The weather
once again assaulted his senses, the icy wind burned his bloodshot eyes
and nearly tore the clothes from his body while the continuous claps of
thunder deafened his hearing. Yet, something compelled him to once
again make the trek to his car three blocks away. Tomorrow he had
a doctor's appointment and the last thing he needed was to get a cold,
but he didn't want to waste time trying to haul down a taxi.
Halfway to his car, Perkins accidentally kicked
something on the ground. "You again!" screamed Perkins to the
same transient he had tripped over the day before. "Can't you find
another street to lay your decomposing corpse on?"
"I used to work in this building" whispered
the man.
"So, why should I care? My wife just left
me and took our two kids with her" responded Perkins uninterested in the
man's reply.
"I had a wife and kid once" replied the man.
"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?
I really don't have time for your sob stories. Unlike you, I have
a life" retorted Perkins as he regained his battle towards his car.
"Whose life do you have?" queried the man after
Perkins.
"You're a nut" Perkins said over his hunched
shoulder. Sadly, the man on the street bowed his head and began sobbing
into his soiled and callused hands.
"No!" howled Perkins in disbelief.
"I'm sorry Mr. Dauber, but there's nothing that
can be done" replied Dr. Klemensky.
Perkins couldn't believe his ears; cancer of
all things and only six months to live at most. What next?
What else could possibly go wrong in his life? Shocked and disillusioned,
Perkins slowly made his way home. Alone and dejected without family
or friends with whom to talk with or even one shoulder to cry on, Perkins
sat in his living room with only the light of the moon illuminating his
somber surroundings.
As he looked around the barren room, he eyed
a wedding photo of him and Valerie taken twenty two years ago. They
looked so happy together, he with his muscular 195 pound frame in a black
tuxedo he had rented from Smith & Johnson; she in her beautifully hand-made
white sequined wedding gown gently draping down her slender body.
Valerie wore very little makeup; her natural beauty was enough to fill
any room with awe and sunshine.
She looked the same today as she did when he
married her, only her expression had changed. Perkins couldn't recall
the last time he had seen her happy, no wonder she left him. The
only thing she had ever asked for was his love and company, yet the only
thing he ever gave her was his money. If only he had seen his mistake
earlier.
As the tears began to moisten his dry bloodshot
eyes, Perkins headed upstairs towards his boy's rooms. He'd never
been in them before and was amazed at how much stuff they had on their
walls and shelves. Various awards, trophies, posters of rock stars,
sports equipment, and CDs littered their rooms. Perkins felt embarrassed
and ashamed at how much of his boy's growing up he had missed. Now,
they were sixteen and thirteen years old and he didn't even know what color
their eyes were.
Unable to control himself any longer, Perkins
surrendered to the intense pain and loss he had buried throughout his life.
His obsession with proving himself to his father had cost him the very
thing he had been longing for and now it was too late. He had pilfered
42 years trying to get what was right in front of him all along.
Maybe there was still time to make things right and, if not, Perkins was
going to die trying.
Perkins awoke the next morning at the crack
of dawn; not a moment was he going to waste anymore. He got up and
for the first time ate a healthy breakfast outside on the deck and watched
the sun come up. A broad smile enveloped his face as Perkins sat
in amazement watching the birds flutter and chirp their excitement of a
new day. Today was going to be a glorious day.
Perkins strolled into his building around eight
in the morning offering a bundle of freshly picked wild flowers to Harriet
whose face was frozen in utter shock.
"Sir, are you allright? It's not like
you to come into work so late" asked Harriet cautiously sniffing the carefully
arranged flowers.
"I'm just fine Harriet. As a matter of
fact, I'd like you to send out a new memo this morning. Tell them
all they can have their vacations back and give everyone an extra week
off and a ten percent pay raise" beamed Perkins.
"I'm not sure I understand Mr. Dauber.
A few days ago you said..." Harriet began to voice.
"Ignore what I said a few days ago. Today
is a brand new day. Please send those memos out as soon as possible.
Oh, and another thing Harriet...I want you to take your family and go see
your parents starting today...and take as much time off as you need with
pay" ordered Perkins. With that said, he left the building
and began the walk back to his car.
Outside, the wind had begun blowing fiercely
and the sky continued to twist and turn it's dismay at the world below,
but to Perkins it was the most beautiful day he had ever seen. He
saw the sun trying to peak through the blackened sky and the leaves dance
effortlessly in the air and he saw the homeless man on the street.
As he neared, the transient raised his head to face Perkins.
"How about we go back to my place for a cup
of coffee and a bite to eat?" asked Perkins. A gentle smile
formed at the corners of the man's mouth. Perkins offered his hand
to the man and asked, "You said you used to work in this building right?
What was your position?"
"I was CEO of the company" the man answered.
"The CEO?! What's your name?" asked Perkins.
"Let me give you my business card of the man
I used to be" replied the man as he reached into his tattered jacket and
pulled out a small rectangular object encased in a fine velvet sleeve.
Perkins slowly removed the sleeve and curiously looked at the object.
He was shocked at what he saw. He sheepishly raised his head to see
the old man's smile beaming back at him. The man then gave Perkins
the biggest hug he had ever had.
As Perkins and the old man braced each other
against the wind towards Perkins' car, the man's business card fell to
the pavement. Just then the sun broke through the clouds for only
a moment, just long enough to catch the reflection of the old man's business
card.