Uncomfortable, Nervous, and Scared

[Chromer]

This was the beginning of a story I wrote years ago that I never finished. It is no doubt juvenile in nature, yet I decided to put it here for you guys to read yourself. It is not a complete story so the abrupt end just signifies where I ended it at the point in time.


He had known as soon as he awoke from the previous night’s sleep. He was sick. Richard had a certain system to determine if he were sick which he did every morning. He would swallow twice. Usually when most people wake in the morning, their throats are naturally dry giving it a sore feel when they swallow the first time. It was still sore feeling after the second swallow so Richard moved onto Phase 2 of his system and promptly rose from his bed, put on his bear claw-shaped slippers, and walked downstairs to the kitchen. He took a glass out of the cabinet and poured himself the remainder of the orange juice in the refrigerator. He then took a moderate sip from the glass and swallowed. His throat still felt sore. He finished the glass and swallowed again. Yup, still sore. However, it was too early to jump to conclusions. There was only one phase left in his system and that would finitely determine whether he were sick or not. He would go to work and wait. If during this phase, he became light-headed and his body became achy, then he was definitely sick.

Not one for delaying a perfect schedule, Richard placed the empty glass into the dishwasher and walked back upstairs where he showered and put on his $700 suit his ex-girlfriend had bought for him just last year. Sensing some hidden want of marriage in the purchase, Richard bluntly ended the year old relationship over dinner the same night he received the suit, wondering if they could still be friends. His ex was left speechless and after fifteen seconds of awkward silence, fled the restaurant with tears in her eyes. Richard raised his hand and asked the waiter for the check. Was he a bastard? If you asked him an inane question then yes he was. His job didn’t require him to be nice, only efficient. If he couldn’t do that, then he had no purpose in life. It’s like cogs in a machine. When one cog becomes worn and can’t work properly, it is replaced with one that can. The old cog is thrown out because it has no purpose or use. That’s how Richard felt his life had become. Just another cog in the grand machine that is Life. However, there was no time to philosophize. He was still a functional cog, and this cog needed to get to work.

Richard pulled into the WorldCorp municipal parking lot like he did every morning at 8:45am. He flashed his badge to Steve, the parking lot security guard and proceeded to the top of the four story structure where he parked his blue Dodge convertible in the parking space labeled, “CFO Richard Price.” He looked to the right to see the black BMW of the CEO Dana House already parked. Richard didn’t really care for Dana and thought Dana was a too-cheerful, brown-nosing son of a bitch who just managed to be more efficient then him and more likable to the board members. Richard once had the displeasure of playing a charity game of golf with Dana and two of the board members. It was an exercise in patience for Richard to not want to take a club and slice it right across Dana’s head in frustration as Dana shot a 74 compared to Richard’s abysmal 88. The board members were quite impressed with Dana’s game and invited him to the monthly Board of Directors golf get-together. Richard was still waiting for his invitation.

Richard walked across the glass enclosed walkway that hung above Polk Avenue and connected to the WorldCorp building and watched the city come to life as taxi cabs and pedestrians filled both the streets and sidewalks. The cogs were beginning to turn and the machine called Life was beginning to work. Richard reached the 2nd floor elevator lobby and pressed a button, clutching his black attaché briefcase in his right hand and straightening his tie with his left. A group of people suddenly appeared from the left and stood around him in a semi-circle as they waited for the elevator to arrive. Richard quickly glanced behind him to see two women and three men, all who looked like standard cubicle drones. The group noticed this and one man acknowledged Richard.

“Mr. Price! Good morning sir! How’s the wife and kids?” asked the man in a cheery disposition.

“I have no wife or children and have no desire for either,” responded Richard in a monotone, but threatening tone of voice.

A slight whisper emanated between the women.

“And before you go spreading rumors around the office ladies, I am very much attracted to women. I just see no reason for a relationship at the moment,” said Richard effectively silencing the chatter.

A small bell went off and the elevator door opened up. Richard stepped into it and pressed the button next to 25. He stared into the faces of the group who looked as though they all had been handed a death sentence. It was quite humorous. A mischievous, minute smirk crept across Richard’s face as the elevator doors closed.

Light jazz music emanated from the ceiling speaker of the elevator as it rose towards its destination: the offices of the CEO and CFO of WorldCorp. As to what kind of company it was, WorldCorp dealt in a variety of markets ranging from pharmaceutical to cellular technology. It was the 6th leading company in the world and 2nd in the United States. Despite an economic recession in the U.S. profits from all markets were up and this made no one happier than Richard himself. Larger profit margins meant more money into his pocket and into his retirement fund. When he was all said and done with the business world, Richard would retire and live the rest of his life on a tropical island in the Caribbean. There, servants would deliver to him margaritas and corona until he couldn’t walk straight….

Richard’s daydream on Fantasy Island came to an abrupt end as the elevator stopped on Floor 20. A small, mousy man stepped inside holding a manila folder under his left arm and patting his thinning head of hair with a silver, silk handkerchief. The man looked as if he had just been scolded by his mother for tracking mud into the kitchen after the floor had been mopped.

“Rough morning Thomas?” asked Richard nonchalantly.

Thomas patted his head a few more times and wiped his face before replacing the handkerchief in his breast pocket.

“Same as always Rich. I have the board members blowing smoke up my ass over the slight drop in sales of the new microprocessor for the Atlas model computer and my wife is making me sleep on the couch this week for forgetting our anniversary. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this must be karma for running out of paying the bill at Charlie’s on 14th and Graham’s.”

Richard chuckled which made Thomas stop and join in as well.

“You’ll be fine Thomas,” started Richard as the elevator began to slow down near floor 24, which happened to be Thomas’ destination. “If this weapons manufacturing proposal goes through with the board members, we’ll be sipping champagne by Christmas.”

A pained look came across Thomas’ face as the elevator doors opened.

“Don’t mention Christmas. The old lady cooked a pot roast so undercooked you could still hear it mooing,” exclaimed Thomas as he stepped off of the elevator and looked at Richard.

“You might want to take some medicine Rich, you look pale.”

The doors closed once more and after a few seconds opened up to a furnished two way corridor. The door on the left end of the hall was Dana’s office while the door to the right was Richard’s. Richard walked towards his office and opened the door to a spacious studio sized room. On the left size was a fully functional bar for those moments when nothing but a scotch on the rocks could get you through the day and on the right side was a living room area complete with a suede couch and 4 large flat-panel televisions on the wall all turned to the financial and news channels of the world. In the center of the room was his favorite mahogany desk complete with a desktop billiards game. It entertained some of the foreign guests that may make a stop to his office before going off to consort with Dana. The wall behind his desk was not a wall at all but a giant window that gave him a clear view of the downtown area of Metro City. Off towards the right, Richard could see the Lord Briton Bridge that crossed over the Jonas River. To be a river and flow without a care in the world. That would be an interesting life…

Once again, Richard was interrupted by a buzzing sound coming from the intercom on his desk. Richard sat down next to it and pushed the button next to “Incoming.”

“Who is it?” asked Richard wearily, rubbing his temple from a developing headache.

“It’s Mrs. Dawlin sir,” answered his secretary. “Your meeting with the Company Treasurer has been pushed back to Friday and you are scheduled to appear at the One World Gala next Saturday and present the One World Award.”

Richard groaned in dissatisfaction.

“Is there anyway I can pass on the presenting of the award? Lord knows the last thing I want to do is act like I really care about someone I don’t.”

“We’ll in case of an emergency, your back-up would be CTO David Wire yet I’m sure he would have some objection to it as well.”

“Tell him if he wants to wake up Sunday morning after the gala still working for WorldCorp, he’ll do it,” growled Richard as he bared down on the intercom as if he were about to attack it.

“Will do sir. I’ll keep you posted on anything that goes on,” finished Mrs. Dawlin as the intercom clicked off.

Richard’s developing headache had turned into a full blown one. He stood up and began to walk around the office trying to shake it off. Then he sneezed twice. Was it just him of did it get cold all of a sudden? Richard walked to the bar and poured himself a shot of bourbon to warm himself up. Not even the stinging warmth of the alcohol in his throat working it’s way to his belly could stop his chill. He felt as if he were floating on air as he walked towards the couch and sat down. On the second television to the left, he could see the WorldCorp logo flash onscreen as an anchorwoman began her report. Richard muted the other sets and turned up the volume.

“Good Morning and welcome to Business Watch. I’m Jody Lime and this is your business today. Recent reports show that the jack-of-all-markets company WorldCorp locked in a bid for the acquiring of weapons manufacturing company Counter-Source Inc. The stock prices of both WorldCorp and Counter-Source jumped up over the weekend in lieu of the rumored acquirement. President and CEO of Counter-Source Jacob Steam had this to say in a press statement on Saturday.”

Richard watched as the screen switched to the press conference that he and Dana watched together just the day before yesterday. He already knew what Steam had said yet he was compelled to hear it again as a reminder.

“We have received the proposal from CEO Dana House and their board of directors and would like to announce that we have no intention now or in the near future of being acquired under the WorldCorp Company.”

Dana had launched into a fury of curses and told his assistant over the phone to get that son-of-a-bitch Steam on the phone right this instance or that Dana himself would put the fear of God into him. Richard then sat there in a chair on the other side of Dana’s desk listening to Dana and Steam go at it for over an hour. When Dana had finally hung up, he looked as if he had swallowed a particularly large lemon.

“Well, the sonofabitch said he wasn’t making any rash decisions until he knew if the acquisition was right for his company but he will still consider it. We dodged a bullet there Richard,” sighed Dana as he wiped his face with his hands and slicked his hair back.

“We should have known he wouldn’t be so quick to join up,” started Richard. “If my company was the number one weapons manufacturer in the western hemisphere, I wouldn’t be so keen on having someone own me either.”

Dana gave a toothy grin and spun around in his chair so that his back faced Richard.

“Sooner or later he’ll have no choice but to be swallowed up. Every company that we have acquired has seen an increase in revenue and profit just for being recognized as a WorldCorp subsidiary. I don’t know about you Richard, but that’s one gravy train that even Steam can’t ignore. I trust you’ll?”

“Already taken care of,” answered Richard as he stood up. “Our press statement is going to be issued tomorrow at 2pm. Make sure to catch it.”

“Good man,” said Dana as he turned the chair back around to face Richard. “Let’s see if we can’t catch Steam’s nuts in a vice so tight, he’ll have no choice but to beg for mercy.”

Richard’s thoughts were cut as the anchorwoman returned to the screen.

“Responding to the statement set forth by Mr. Steam, CFO Richard Price of WorldCorp issued a responding statement of their own.”

Richard watched as the screen then switched to Richard standing on a riser over a crowd of journalists and photographers with a banner of the WorldCorp logo behind him and the actual office building looming over them. He remembered seeing a striking blonde in the back that kept giving him flirty eyes the entire time and tried to pass her phone number to him after the press conference but failed as Richard was bum-rushed by paparazzi on his way back to the office.

“My colleague, CEO and President of WorldCorp Dana House and I have discussed the intent of acquiring Counter-Source Inc. after the statement put forth by Mr. Steam just yesterday. We of WorldCorp respect the wishes of Mr. Steam and the board of directors to stay independent. We withdraw our bid for the present but keep it active in case Counter-Source wishes to accept in the nearby future. Thank you.”

Just as Richard remembered, he walked off of the riser only to be surrounded by security and rushed by the large influx of journalists in front of him. Richard sneezed twice again. Yep, he was definitely sick. It was probably all of the stress of the last few days finally wearing down his immune system. Richard stood up and sat as his desk once more, pushing the “Outgoing” button on the intercom.

“Mrs. Dawlin, cancel all of my appointments for the next few days. I’m sick,” said Richard as began to get the sniffles.

“Will do sir. I’ll make sure that the office doesn’t throw any parties in your absence,” answered Mrs. Dawlin smugly. Richard was positive she was grinning from ear to ear behind her desk.

“Throw one and I’ll make sure the next one the office throws will be your early retirement party,” said Richard in a cheerful sort of tone.

“Get some rest sir,” said Mrs. Dawlin in a motherly tone of finality as the intercom finally clicked off.

Will do Doris. Will do, thought Richard as he put on his suede trench coat and walked out the door.