2'Twas the week before Christmas and what a pain in the ass. Actually the pain was in my lower abdomen. It hurts when I urinate, and I cramp up, almost to the point of doubling over, yet I am still waiting for my-brother-the-doctor to call me with my results from the tests taken the other day. He warned me that there was a possibility of cancer.
I splash a little of my December cologne on; I can never remember the names of my scents, I just know that I change to the one that smells like pine trees when December rolls around.
I look at myself in the bathroom mirror. There's a mixed vibe there. Good day, bad day? I ask myself. I am still a little anxious because I haven't received my holiday bonus from work yet, and my wife has been concerned all month. Now we're at the critical point with a lot of big gifts still left to buy, and still nothing. Funny, last year the checks came out in early December…
The knock at the bathroom door scares me back from my thoughts.
"Dad," my teenage son, Eric, asks. "Are you almost done? I've got to get ready."
"Be right out." A moment later, I open the door and Eric is there holding his clothes.
"Dad, can I talk to you real quick?"
"Sure, go ahead," I reply as I make my way to the coffee maker.
"Dad," he pauses and waits for me to make eye contact. "My friend Timmy and I have decided to start a business. Since most of our friends have worked for every builder and landscaper in the area, we have so many contacts and potential clients."
I didn't like where this was going.
"So we are preparing to set up a supply sales and distribution business to those companies. Timmy sold some mowers and stuff last week and pocketed two grand."
"When will you have time to do this?" I asked. "You start college in the fall."
"Yeah, about that. This is an opportunity of a lifetime, and if I put it off, there is going to be a ton of start-ups to compete with later, so I've decided to postpone college."
Eric exhaled loudly. Relief after getting all that out.
"WHAT?" I flipped. "You have a FULL scholarship to State…bullSHIT you're postponing! Over my dead body!"
"Dad," he started.
"Bill," my wife entered the room. "I don't agree with it either, but he's 18. There's not much we can do…"
"I can't believe you," I said to Eric, just staring at him, "all for a landscaping business? To just throw it all away? What a waste…" I shook my head in disgust. I was speechless after that.
And I walked out.
I got into my truck and turned the key. It started hard, but it's winter. The news station that is on the preset popped on.
"And in business news today, the big story," the news anchor said, and I could've never prepared myself for what I heard next.
"Consult America, the largest consulting and advertising firm in the nation, has taken a severe blow as their stock plummets from $80 per share to $21, which is less than half of its Initial Public Offering 8 years ago, after the news that the CEO's son, also a senior member of the corporation, was charged with extortion, money laundering and numerous other charges associated with drugs and mob activity…"
And there's the reason that my company, also known as CA on the stock ticker, hasn't given out bonuses yet. I flipped the dial to another news channel.
"All of the VP's at the corporation are remaining tight-lipped…"
It was all over the news.
I dialed my partner, Frank, from my cell phone while I sat in my driveway.
"Are you paying attention to the news?" I asked.
"Yeah, man…this is FUCKED UP…"
"Let's get to the office and find out what is going to happen with our jobs," I said.
"You got it…I should be there in about an hour."
When I arrived at the office, my floor was in utter chaos. People were crying and clearing out their desks.
"What do we do now?" I asked the floor manager. He looked as lost as the rest of them.
"The senior team wants everyone to finish their projects, double-time, to maximize the earning potential and absorb some of this. Try to get your project wrapped up today."
He sounded like a fucking robot.
Unrealistic, since I had about a week's more worth of research to do on it. I flipped on my computer and clicked on the file for my most recent project.
My computer screen went blue. FATAL blue…. and then black. Two months of hard work gone in a click.
Where the hell was Frank?
Watching these people that I worked with every day losing their minds was too much for me. I had to get out of here.
I called my wife from my cell on the way to my truck.
I explained everything that was going on, and her reaction was far from what I expected. She seems cold, distant. She was surprised to hear what was going on, yet she showed virtually no compassion. We have been fighting over the past few weeks about everything, so as much as it doesn't surprise me, it stings.
She tells me that she's off to her "book club" meeting with her circle of friends. I think that she is up to no good, and that is all that I need at this point.
I arrive on my street just in time to see her pull out of the driveway a good distance ahead. She doesn't see me because she's backing out and going the other way. I follow her from a safe distance, and I watch her go up to the door of a house that I don't recognize; a very nice house in the best neighborhood in our city. A well-dressed man answers the door, and she throws her arms around him. That's it. This day is turning out to be the worst day of my life. Now my wife is cheating.
I drive off, thinking seriously about stopping at the next bar that I drive by. I don't, instead opting for a shopping area to walk around and think things through. The last thing that I need is to pour myself into misery, when just maybe some smiling holiday faces might just snap me out of it.
As I drive on the ramp that takes me into the downtown area, my 'check engine' light flashes quickly and smoke, black smoke, begins to pour out the sides of my hood. It chugs to a stop in the worst possible spot; right on the ramp with no breakdown lane or any place to pull off the roadway to safety.
I smile as I get out of my piece-of-shit truck, and I walk away.
I just keep walking, flirting with the notion of going insane and feeling like I'm going to puke at the same time. I see Starbucks up ahead, and I feel that a cup of tea may help to settle my stomach. I pick out my tea and a box of mini-pastries to take home, and I give the cashier my card.
"Sir, I'm sorry," she said. "Your card has been denied…oh, hold on a minute."
She goes to get the manager.
The manager looks at the transaction report, eyes me suspiciously and said, " Unfortunately we need to hang onto your card. It says 'seize card and alert authorities' sir."
"What!?" I look around. I am beyond embarrassed at this point. I am now looking for the guy with the hidden camera.
"Look, I am who I say I am," I told the manager, "and keep the card. I will be putting a stop on it anyway in 5 minutes."
I walked out the door with surprised faces following me the whole way.
As I rounded the corner and passed by an alley, someone grabbed my shoulder and stuck something pointy into my ribs.
"Give me your wallet and keep walking," came the muffled voice from behind me. "Don't turn around."
I felt every muscle in my body tense at the exact same time. I reached down to feel for my wallet. Nothing…an empty pocket…GREAT.
"Shoot me," I said.
"What?"
"Fucking SHOOT ME!" I screamed.
"Whoa, whoa," the mugger held his hands up, and I got my first look at him. He was holding the broken end of a broomstick.
I slumped my shoulders, disappointed that it wouldn't end here.
"You would not believe the day that I have had, even if I told you," I said to the panic-stricken guy who, for some reason, hadn't run off yet. I must have intrigued him with my complete loss of rationality.
He looked at me with shame in his eyes. And he began to cry.
"Of all the people that I choose to mug for the first time in my broken life, I pick the lunatic."
My heart filled with what I can only describe as compassion and curiosity.
"I'm Bill," I say, with my hand extended.
"Malcolm." He shakes it.
We sit down right there on the sidewalk curb and start talking.
Malcolm tells me that he has two kids at home, a little girl and a super smart teenage son in high school. I wished my son were that smart right now, I think to myself. He says that he has trouble finding a good job because of mistakes that he made as a kid, and trouble keeping them because his wife is sick and constantly in and out of the hospital when the free care comes through.
My heart broke for him. The pain in his voice made me forget everything that happened to me today. That is, until he said, "what about you? What's your story?"
So I told him. I told him everything. About how I may have cancer. All about my bonus, and my job, and that they were gone. How I thought my wife was cheating, and my son was wasting his life. And how my truck was on the overpass ramp right now. And finally how my credit had been hacked and forged somehow, and my wallet was gone.
"So you see, Malcolm, I might seem like the 'jet-set, top-of-the-world' businessman to you, but my life is no less fragile than yours."
We looked at each other, grabbed hands in a firm handshake and didn't say another word. Our thoughts were probably in different directions, but the realities laid out before us somehow bolstered each other's resolve. I blinked away the dampness in my eyes, and felt a whole lot better.
"Hold it right there!" snapped us both out of it.
"It's okay," I said to the police officer behind us. "Everything is fine over here."
"Sir, stand up and put your hands on your head."
He was talking to ME. Oh, that's right…the card incident.
I looked at Malcolm and he gave me a little nod and a wink. "I think that we're going to be all right, Bill," he said. And then he laughed. He laughed so hard that I started laughing. I laughed right through my Miranda reading.
"Thank you, Malcolm."
"We should get together sometime, Bill. Come over for dinner. I live over on West Sixth. We'd love to have you."
Just as the cop put his hand on my head to duck me into the car, the manager from the coffee shop came running out with something in his hand.
"Officer, hold it," he shouted. "Sir, I don't know how to apologize to you for this. We had a glitch in our information transfer system. The same thing happened to the next three credit card customers. Here, see, your transaction finally went through!" He handed me a receipt with my card and my wallet. I sighed. The second good thing in a row to happen to me. We're on a roll.
As the cop clicked open my handcuffs, I smiled and turned to acknowledge Malcolm. He was gone.
After what seemed like an hour of apologies, a handful of free things and a token of the 'please don't sue us' loyalty that I now had at this coffee shop, I left the store and decided to head back to my truck, an idea beginning to form in my head.
I called road service as I made my way up to the ramp exit, only to find that they had already picked it up. The police must have phoned it in. I called a cab.
Frank's car was in my driveway when I arrived home. "Good," I thought. "The bastard has a piece of my mind coming his way."
I walked in the door and my wife greeted me with a big smile on her face. She came over, HUGGED me, and asked me if I was okay.
Very strange.
I turned to the living room, and there was Frank with the guy that my wife threw her arms around outside of the "book club" house across town.
"Bill!" Frank exclaimed as he jumped up, clearly breaking a serious conversation with this fellow.
"What's going on?" I asked. Just then, my phone vibrated. You have 8 new messages. I'm just getting them now? Talk about your shitty service!
A text came in from my brother. "UTI – urinary tract infection. Go pick up your antibiotics and you're welcome."
Wow.
"I'd like you to meet Peter Jenkins," my wife said. "He's the husband of one of the book club girls, and he's been following you and Frank very carefully.'
My face must've shown the absolute confusion.
"Your work on the Pratt case is brilliant," he said, and only then did I realize that his hand was extended.
"Thank you, sir," I said, still dumb-founded. "Unfortunately the systems crashed this morning and we lost it all…" my sentence trailed as I saw Frank in my peripheral vision dancing around.
I looked over to see him twirling a memory stick in his fingers with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Some of us stayed late last ni-,"he started to say.
"I could kiss you!" I ran over and picked him up in a bear hug.
"Frank and I have been wanting you to meet Peter for a week or so, now, but we knew how crazy things were getting," my wife said.
"Bill, I'd like to offer both you and Frank positions with my company," Peter said.
Whoa.
We talked over wine and hashed out all of the details to what would eventually be a dream-come-true job, and Frank was coming with me! We both got amazing sign on bonuses, too!
"Hey, dad," Eric came in, "everyone."
"Hey, son, come here. I'd like you to meet someone."
After the formalities were out of the way, Eric said, "Hey dad, can I get you for a second in the kitchen?"
I gave him the 'this is a horrible time' look, and he countered with the 'I need to talk to you now' look, so I gave in.
"Dad," he said, "I know how pissed off you are at me right now, but I get my entrepreneurial spirit from you. This truly is an opportunity of a lifetime. But I figured it out. I can manage my end of the business with a cell phone and laptop…from the dorm. It won't interfere with my studies, I promise. All the students have part time jobs, but mine will be my own business." The last part of his sentence was muffled into shoulder, as I threw my arms around him and told him how much I loved him. My wife came in and joined the hug. I kissed her head and told her that I loved her, too.
It was Christmas Eve day. The beard was itchy as all hell. Watching my wife and son adjust their elf costumes made it all worth it.
We knocked at the door, and a woman in a robe answered. She was sickly looking, with sunken-in eyes, but you could tell that there was a day when she was a knockout.
"Mommy," a bouncy little girl with a tooth missing and braided pigtails came to the door. "Who is it?"
"It's Santa," mom said, eying me very suspiciously.
"Ho ho ho," I mustered, in as much of a jolly old fashion as I could.
My wife bent down and began chatting with the little one.
"We have something for the kids…may we come in?"
She swung the door open, still not taking her eyes off of me.
Malcolm's tired eyes looked up from his classifieds and met mine. I saw his expression change as we entered the house. "Hey, kids, Santa's here!" Malcolm stood up and came over to us.
"Ho, ho, ho…we have presents, too!" I shouted.
"PRESENTS!" the little girl squeaked, and that brought her brother out of his room.
The look of sincere appreciation in Malcolm's eyes as his kids tore through wrapped boxes of dolls, video game consoles, telescopes and dress-up gear was like none that I had ever seen before. I got to know each member of his family on such a personal level, and the time came for mom and dad's gifts.
"Santa brought presents for you, too! Santa's the BEST!" the little girl sang and danced around with one of her new dolls.
The first gift was an envelope to mom. She opened it. There was a card with a doctor's name and phone number on it. She looked at me.
"My brother," I said. "All of your expenses are completely covered."
She cried and shook her head. My wife gave her a hug.
Malcolm began to sob, too, and I warned him to stop. I leaned over and whispered that the suit was a rental.
Everyone began to laugh, even the kids, though that hadn't heard what I said.
"One more," Santa said. "Ho, ho, ho!"
Another envelope. Malcolm hesitated, and then took the envelope from me. He opened the letter, and fell over. I've heard people say 'I almost fell over when I heard the news', but Malcolm actually did.
When he composed himself enough to speak, he said, "Bill, uh…Santa…. thank you."
He sighed, not knowing what to do.
I grabbed his hand, leaned over and spoke softly.
"Malcolm, when we talked on the street that day, you told me that you could draw really well, though your art never took you anywhere. I have a need for a graphic designer. I just got a brand new job and I want you on my team. Some of the work is mundane, just posting graphs and charts, but sometimes you'll be designing logos for new products and stuff…"
He wrapped his arms around me, told me that he didn't deserve this and that he'd never be able to repay what we'd done.
I pulled him away, looked him in the eyes and said, "meeting you changed my life. We were at the bottom together, and it's in those times that you find out who your friends are. I was not about to leave you there. Oh, and there's a sign-on bonus percentage check in that envelope, too."
I just smiled at him.
He held the cross around his neck and kissed it.
"Thank you."
Mom reminded the kids to say thank you, but she didn't have to.
I tell you, the hardest thing that I have ever done was keeping my composure dressed like Santa in Malcolm's living room on Christmas Eve.