“Who’s this Prescott guy anyway?”‘
“He’s a big shit.”
“How big?”
“He’s CEO of Mastodon,”
“What’s Mastodon?”
“Our parent company,” his boss snapped, “Mastodon Inc. In case you haven’t noticed, they employ most of the people in this town.”
“Oh,” Timothy said, feigning nonchalance.
“And he’s coming to the office,” she said as she sipped a cup of coffee and took a donut off the breakfast tray.
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Is he the one they call ‘the axe?”‘ one of the other employees asked.
“He’s the one,” his boss said after taking a bite of her honey-dipped donut.
“Good Jesus!” Timothy said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“Just so you know.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. Do you think he’ll go over our numbers with us?”
“Oh, I’m sure he already has,” She said.
“Then, I’m screwed.”
As he said this, he noticed a group of coworkers gathering around the coffee machine.
“Maybe not,” one of them said. “Sometimes he doesn’t always fire those who don’t make their quota. Sometimes it’s random.”
“Let’s hope he’s having one of his random days,” Timothy said.
“I refuse to be intimidated by him!” the head of IT said.
“That’s OK. You could be fired by him anyway,” Timothy’s boss said after she took another bite of her donut.
The tension in the office was palpable for the rest of the day. Coffee was spilled. Emails were deleted by mistake. People bumped into one another in the hallway. One guy walked into a wall; another had an asthma attack and had to be taken to the hospital.
That night, Timothy lay awake while his wife put her arm around him and asked him not to think about the meeting. She was eight months pregnant.
“That’s impossible; it’s in six hours!” he said, staring at the ceiling with wide-open eyes.
This could be the end. Who knows how long it will take to get another job and then, in all likelihood, at a fraction of my current salary? There was nothing in our savings account. It would only be a matter of time before the car would be repossessed, the mortgage would be foreclosed, and we’d have to apply for assistance. And the wife due in a month–just in time!
“How can I think of anything else?”
“Do you want me to make you some tea?” she asked, about to get out of bed but having difficulty because of the pregnancy.
“No, no, just lay back down. I’ll go into the kitchen and make it myself. Just try to get some sleep.”
He sat at the kitchen table, holding his head in his hands.
God knows where this is going to lead. What the fuck am I supposed to do? We should have saved more money. We could have cut back. We should have put off having the kid. We should have gotten a second mortgage. We should have… Dear Jesus!
His heart pounded, his hands began to tremble, and his eyes filled up and started to sting–a perfect occasion of misery.
The entire staff arrived in the office at eight-thirty or earlier. No one dared to be late for the nine AM meeting with Mr. Big. Everyone looked tired and weary; it seemed that no one had had any sleep. A few people tried to smile, but the smiles looked forced. Most of the faces were grim, not unlike those in the waiting room of a doctor’s office.
When the CEO of Mastodon Inc. walked into the conference room, he looked lost. He was nothing at all like Timothy thought he would be: a towering, intimidating middle-aged Superman, larger than life, ready to kick some ass. He was in his mid-thirties, of average height, wore granny glasses, and had slightly long blonde hair that was gray at the temples. Though he had a thin frame, he looked like he hadn’t worked out in a very long time. His expression was keen and intelligent but slightly whimsical. He looked around the room as if he were genuinely glad to be there and was about to enjoy an afternoon of golf with some old friends; then he reached for a cup of coffee, which he almost spilled.
“First coffee of the day–always the best,” he said, carefully taking a sip. “Jesus, I’m sorry I’m late. By the way, I’m the guy–the one they call ‘Mr. Big’ or ‘The Axe.’ I know: it doesn’t sound good! But believe me, if those names had any meaning, I’d hate me too. In fact, I’d have nothing to do with me. In fact, I’m sure I’d file for divorce.”
This was met with smiles and a quick laugh from everyone in the room.
“OK, I’d like to ask each of you to say a few words about yourself–what brought you to work here in the first place, what you like to do in your spare time, and what your favorite music is. Anything at all that can tell me a little bit about who you are. Why don’t we start with you?” The CEO said, addressing a slight blonde woman in her late twenties who sat directly in front of him.
She sat up, cleared her throat, and said her favorite musician was Taylor Swift. She came to work for the company because it was only a few miles from where she lived, and she liked hiking on the Appalachian Trail.
“Hey, I like Taylor Swift too,” The CEO said. “But hiking? The last time I tried it I fell down and nearly broke my ass. Good thing I didn’t because I don’t think they can repair those.”
“Especially not yours,” his assistant said with a mischievous smirk.
More laughter from everyone. The CEO shrugged as if to say, “You got me!”
The rest of the group went on to say something about what music they liked, what they enjoyed doing in their spare time, and their reason for coming to work at a Mastodon subsidiary. He paid close attention to each employee and thanked them. Timothy had to admit this was not at all what he had expected; everyone was starting to have a good time.
Finally, it was Timothy’s turn. He tried to sound confident and forceful but stammered and had to clear his throat several times. He said he liked jazz–mostly Kenny Berrell and Stanley Turrentine and liked to go skiing with his wife but hadn’t been able to since his wife was now eight months pregnant.
The CEO interrupted him. “I hope you’ll name him after me if it’s a boy, won’t you, Timothy?”
Timothy didn’t know what to say and hesitated.
“It’s going to be a…a girl.”
“Just kidding,” The CEO said.
“I named my dog something else,” his assistant said, “and he nearly fired me!” The entire room laughed, and the CEO gave a wounded look, which caused everyone to laugh even more. Timothy finished, and the CEO thanked him.
“There, that wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, was it? Not the Mastodon you thought I’d be, aye? Just a good old-fashioned T-Rex, right?”
Again, there was laughter as his assistant passed out manila envelopes to everyone.
“Here’s something for all of you for being such good sports,” he said, then thanked them for coming and added, “There are no losers at Mastodon–just winners! I want all of you to set goals for yourself and then exceed those goals. I look upon our organization as a mutually beneficial chain of talent, and I want you to think big because all of you are all vital links in that chain. Let’s all hold hands and form that chain!”
The entire office did just that. Some of the workers looked a bit uncomfortable, while others closed their eyes as if to pray. Timothy smiled at his boss, and she smiled back.
“We’re going to have a great year,” the CEO said, “and I plan to see all of you this time next year.” Then he looked directly at the circle of employees, cleared his throat, and, with intense sincerity, said emphatically, everyone!”
At first, no one said anything as they exited the conference room. Gradually, a few of them started to speak up when they made their way into the hallway,
“Well, that was a surprise.”
“It’s a relief.”
“You could say that!”
“I’ve got to see what this is,” someone said, opening one of the envelopes. He found a gift certificate for five hundred dollars.
“Shit! Do you believe this,” he said.
The rest of the office immediately opened their envelopes and found the same gift certificate inside. Everyone looked surprised; it was as if Christmas had arrived early.
“Man, I’ll tell ya, the guy’s all right!”
“Face it; he’s nothing at all like I thought he’d be. Must have been some bullshit those union assholes dreamed up.”
“He’s OK,” Timothy said to one of his coworkers. “Who would have thought?”
When Timothy arrived home, his wife was waiting for him. She looked worried but relieved when he hugged and held her tight.
“It’s going to be OK, Hon!”
“You mean, we’re going to be all right?”
“The guy wasn’t anything at all like I thought. He was really cool. He gave us all gift certificates just for being there. Can you imagine?”
“How much?”
“Five hundred!”
“You’re kidding!”
“No, he gave it to us straight. He said we were all links on a chain. Everyone was an important part of the company, and he meant it!”
They embraced one another and started to laugh. He kissed her and told her how much he loved her. She broke into a huge smile.
“We don’t have to worry, Hon,” he said, gently holding his wife’s belly, “and neither does she! Hey, let’s order out tonight. I’ll drive over to Peking Garden and pick up some wine on the way back.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said, giving him a quick kiss.
He grabbed his hat and coat and was about to leave. But Just before he walked out, he turned to his wife and said, “ain’t it great. We’re going to be OK, Hon. We’re going to be OK!” And then, as if he’d forgotten something, he thought of his daughter and the good times to come and said, “Looks like we’re back in business. We’ve got a future, Hon!”
The rain was coming down hard as the limo sped toward the airport. The CEO looked at his assistant, shook his head, and said, “Well, I’m glad that’s over with! I don’t think I could take that bunch for much longer.”
“Just your garden variety workforce,” his assistant said.
“Right. But the garden could use some pruning, wouldn’t you say?” the CEO said.
Just as she said this, the chauffeur pulled the limo over to the side of the road, got out, and raised the hood as billows of steam poured out of the radiator.
“Shit!” The CEO said. “If we miss our flight, I’m suing this limo company!”
Timothy was on his way home from The Peking Garden when he saw the limo at the side of the road. He knew immediately who it was and pulled his ten-year-old Toyota onto the breakdown lane. He walked over, and when The CEO rolled down the window, he said, “Looks like you could use a lift!”
“Man, am I glad to see you, Timothy!” The CEO exclaimed with a huge smile.
Great, he remembers my name, Timothy thought; that’s good!”
“I have a meeting in Manhattan in three hours. Looks like you saved the day!”
That’s very Good!
The chauffeur loaded The CEO and his secretary’s luggage into the trunk of Timothy’s car while The CEO sat next to Timothy, and his secretary took a seat in the back.
“I hope this isn’t taking you out of your way,” The CEO said.
“No, not at all. I was just on my way to pick up some Chinese food when I saw you. I’m glad I could help.”
As they drove to the airport, they talked about everything: how Masterdon got its name, the best Chinese food in New York, how much they both hated sushi, what their favorite basketball teams were, their favorite movies, their favorite books. Occasionally, the CEO’s assistant would chime in with a wry comment, and they laughed. Timothy felt like he was talking to two old friends from college.
Timothy helped The CEO and his secretary with their luggage when they reached the airport. The CEO shook his hand, and his assistant gave him a big smile. As he was about to walk into the terminal, the CEO stopped, turned to Timothy, and shook his hand.
“Thank you, Timothy, and believe me, I’ll remember this!”
What does that mean? Timothy wondered as he drove home. A promotion, of course! It has to. And what did that mean? A new car, a bigger place to live, an extra room for the kid– a cottage in the country? The way the CEO smiled, the way he shook his hand. This was more than gratitude; this was definitely an assurance of goodwill. He gave a stupid laugh that came out of nowhere, a loud shout of ridiculous joy. But then he caught himself. Hold on, this is pie-in-the-sky. Don’t be an idiot! This was no big deal, no instant catapult to success; there was no sense in getting carried away. This was just a simple occasion of happiness. This would be a time to remember, though. No doubt it!
They would have to celebrate when he got home.
The CEO turned to his assistant as the plane sat on the runway.
“Do we have the list?”
“We have the list,” his assistant said, pulling up a page on her laptop filled with names.
“Looks good. But let’s add another two percent just for shits and laughs. Our numbers have been down for the past year, so someone’s got to go.”
“Oh, really?” she said, looking slightly perplexed.
“Yeah, don’t worry about them. I’ve seen this a thousand times. Sure, they’ll be miserable for a while, but they’ll get over it. A lot of them will eventually thank us. They’ll get a new lease on life. Some might even start their own business one day. We could even wind up working for one of them,” he chuckled.
His assistant brought up an additional list of names on her laptop.
“What about him?” she asked, pointing to Timothy’s name near the top of the list.
“Oh, him, right! Leave it. He’s not exactly what I’d call vital. Nice guy, though.”
Another executive in one of the seats across from the CEO looked over at him and said, “Aren’t you Mr. Big at Mastodon?”
“That’s right, I’m CEO of Mastodon. But Mr. Big? Hardly. I’m just another link in the chain. And you know what they say about that, don’t you?”
“‘You’re only as good as your weakest link!” the other executive said.
“You got that right!”
They laughed and buckled their seatbelts as the plane took off and climbed into the sky, high above a thousand homes below scattered like links of a chain broken beyond repair.
THE END