The Prize
By
C. L. Kraemer
The buzzing. What was that buzzing? It was near. Loud, irritating, continuous. Daniel Wilkes thrust his arm out and smashed his hand down on the radio alarm. Ahhh! Quiet. He began to slip into the nether land of warm dreamless sleep. It started again. That buzzing. Daniel roused himself from his cocoon of warm blankets. He'd have to get up. Leaning over, he shut the radio alarm off, swung his legs over the side of the bed and yawned. Maybe he could call in sick today. There wasn't anything really important on his calendar. No, no, he couldn't. He'd have to go in today like every other day of the year because his particular expertise was pivotal to the running of his department. His job as a computer repair technician was very important. He was one of the few people everyone was glad to see. When people called Daniel it was usually because their computer had stopped working in the middle of a very important report, or at month-end in the accounting department or crunching together a sales presentation for a new client. He'd come to their office, work his magic using his vast knowledge and leave the hero. Rumors of downsizing in other areas of the company had processed through the company pipeline, but Daniel knew, the upper management, wouldn't touch the computer division, especially the repair department. They were the glue that kept the company together.
He wasn't so sure the new kid, Frank, was going to make it though. All he'd done since he’d shown up in the cubicle opposite Daniel was play computer games. Yeah, maybe he'd set up the company’s updated new email system. Oh, and he'd set up an Internet website for the company, but site building was level –one, social-networking-time-off stuff. Daniel’s expertise was crucial, expertise the bosses on the 17th floor trusted to be scrupulous. After their last conversation, Daniel suspected Frank might be downsized along with the secretarial department.
~ * ~
“Hey, Daniel.”
Daniel rolled his eyes at the sound of Frank’s voice. “What?”
“Did you hear Becky in data entry was let go?”
“Yeah, so what? What’s that got to do with us? They won’t touch us computer geeks. I have the word of the vice president in marketing. Our department has saved his behind more than once when his computer crashed. He told me on the QT we weren’t going to be touched in the shake up. So don’t worry and stop listening to the coffee room gossip.”
Daniel shook his head and started to walk away.
“Don’t be so sure,” Frank called after him. “I heard they’re gonna get rid of somebody in our department.”
Last hired, first fired. Daniel shook his head. Poor Frank.
~ * ~
Daniel took his shower, dressed then sat at the table in the kitchen nook. He really liked his townhouse. He was lucky his grandparents had thought so highly of him they’d arranged for him to inherit the place. He still snickered at the raucous scene during the family dinner when Gram announced they were moving from the old homestead.
His mother had exploded in anger.
“What! You’re going to sell! But mom… the property is supposed to be ours!”
Daniel could tell the barely civil dinner conversation was going to wind into a whining tirade from the nasal tone of his mother’s retort.
“How could you possibly do this to us? We counted on you giving us the house!” Red faced, she stomped away from the dinner table, snatched her purse and slammed the door on her way out. His father was still sitting at the table, staring in disbelief, mouth gaping, at his in-laws.
Daniel had fought hard to keep from laughing aloud. He couldn’t begin to count the nights he’d listened to his parents lavishly planning how they would redesign the “dated” house they considered theirs. Working to achieve the same goal never entered their mind. It was simple. What was Gram and Gramps was theirs by birthright. End of discussion.
Apparently not so.
Daniel had heard Grandpa and Grandma Wilkes discuss selling the large home in which they’d raised their large family for three years before they put the house on the market. With a portion of the proceeds from the home’s sale, they took the trip of a lifetime to Europe. Grandpa hadn't been there since the Second World War--"The Big One" as he always called it--and he wanted to see it once without having to watch for Panzers and ducking the Luftwaffe.
“Be nice to see what them German folks really look like. Heard them fraulins are pretty good lookin’; almost as good lookin’ as my Nita,” Grandad would chuckle as Daniel’s grandma would shake her head and walk away.
“Incorrigble. That’s what you are Alvin Wilkes, just incorrigble.”
They had left in May and returned the following September tanned, glowing and fairly fluent in German. In the cab on the way home from the airport, they passed the construction site of new townhomes inside the west edge of the city.
“Driver, stop.” Al leaned forward and touched the man on the shoulder.
He paid the man to wait, and by the time Al and Nita Wilkes climbed back into the cab, they were the proud owners of a soon-to-be-finished townhome in the city’s newest trendy neighborhood. They retrieved their furniture from storage, moved into the townhouse and set out to car shop.
Daniel’s grandmother had spotted the maroon beauty on the car lot when they’d taken the cab from the airport.
“Alvin. That’s what I want.” She pointed out the new 2000 Thunderbird to her husband.
“You got your trip to Europe; I want to drive around town in style, and that car,” she pointed at the Ford as they passed the lot, “is the kind of style I want.”
That’s when Daniel's parents quit speaking to them. Grandpa passed away and neither Daniel's mom nor dad attended the funeral.
He’d come to play a vital role in his grandmother's life. After Grandad died, her health deteriorated and she never quite regained her former zest for life. Daniel made sure she got to all her doctor appointments, did her grocery shopping, helped her to clean the townhouse and kept the Ford in good running condition.
When Gram made the decision to go into a nursing home, because she’d nearly set the kitchen on fire with her forgetfulness, she asked Daniel to come live in the townhouse. She and Grandpa had paid it off with the profit they'd made on the sale of the big house. She willingly signed the title of the Thunderbird to Daniel when she moved into the assisted living center. The car had less than 20,000 miles on the odometer and was as breathtakingly beautiful as the day she drove the new vehicle from the lot.
Even so, Daniel had sacrificed to get where he was. He'd given up his personal life to cater to Gram but truth be told, he loved her dearly, definitely more than the woman claiming to be his mother. He often shook his head at how different two beings with nearly the same genes could be. But he couldn’t get Gram to stop pushing him to marry. Visitation days always seemed to have the same theme between them.
“Daniel, when are you going to find a nice girl and settle down? I’d love to see great-grandbabies before I die?”
“Now, Gram, if I have a wife and kids, I won’t be able to help you as much as I do. You wouldn’t want me to have to stop visiting, would you?”
He’d watch his gran sigh, shake her head and smile weakly at him.
“No hon,” she’d pat his hand. “I really enjoy having you here. Maybe after I’m gone you’ll find someone special.”
“Grandma! Don’t say that.” Daniel would frown and grasp her hand. “You’re not going to die. Now stop it!”
The last time he visited, the nurse at the front desk stopped him.
“Mr. Wilkes?”
“Yes?”
“I need to speak to you regarding the notices we’ve sent to your parents about your grandmother’s expenses.”
Daniel frowned. “Expenses.”
“Yes sir. The home is… uh… increasing the cost for your grandmother’s living arrangement and medical expenses. She’s requiring more direct attention as her prognosis deteriorates. The problem is we keep getting the mail back unopened. Do you have their correct address or know who we can speak with on the subject of this matter?”
Daniel sighed as he withdrew his wallet from his trousers.
“My parents don’t live in town anymore and haven’t acknowledged my grandmother in several years. Her lawyer is handling her finances. Here is his name and number. He should be able to help you.”
He frowned. Will this affect me? Naw. Gram has made a provision I’ll be able to stay in the house as long as I want. Right?
~ * ~
Daniel smelled the burning toast as the smoke alarm went off. He opened the sliding patio door to let in some fresh air and was greeted by an icy blast. He dashed to the shrieking smoke alarm. Opening the front, he disconnected the battery.
"Blasted thing. Never works when it should and works every time you don't need it."
He grumbled as he took the blackened bread and dropped it into the rubbish can. He realized he was running late and wouldn't have time to eat.
"Man, this is turning out to be a bad day. I sure hope Nadine in accounting doesn't have one of her It's-Your-Fault-This-Accounting-System-Doesn't-Work days.” He blew out an exasperated sigh between his lips. “That's all I need."
He grabbed his overcoat and briefcase on his way out the door.
He locked the door and, pointing the garage door opener at the garage, walked down the pathway. He reached the driveway before he realized the garage door wasn't open. Swearing under his breath, he pointed the opener again and clicked. Nothing. He stomped up to the townhouse. He heard the metallic rumbling of the garage opening next door.
He turned as a sleek red sports car gracefully slid out. Daniel stood transfixed. This was why he was sacrificing his social life. It was the most beautiful piece of machinery he'd ever seen. The mercurial lines moved the eye from the double horse insignia on the front over the barely waist-high roof into the aerodynamically designed tail end. The air wavered around the exhaust pipe emitting guttural hints of the power contained under the hood. The driver gave the engine gas and shot backward into the street. Shifting from reverse to drive and giving the engine more gas, the car noisily left skid marks on the quiet residential street.
Daniel trudged inside. He rummaged through the catchall drawer in the entry desk and found fresh batteries. Once the dead batteries had been replaced, the garage opener worked fine. He climbed into the older Thunderbird, lumbered down the driveway, and into the street. He toyed with the idea of leaving skid marks but changed his mind when he noticed a patrol car in the rear view mirror. This morning hadn't been a roaring success so far, no sense in getting a ticket. He was going to be late as it was.
Daniel pulled into the parking lot at work, got out and locked the car. He looked at his watch. He was only ten minutes late. Considering this was the second time in all his years of employment, they'd probably forgive him ten minutes. He flashed his badge at the guard in the lobby and pushed the button on the elevator. Rocketing to his floor, he was walking down the hallway to his office fifteen seconds later. Inside, he hung up his overcoat and placed his briefcase on his desk. He hadn't yet popped open the latches when Frank came flying through the door of their shared office.
"You'd better get in gear. We were supposed to be in a meeting ten minutes ago in the conference room with the division manager of Information Services. Something big is coming down from Corporate Headquarters."
Frank made a cutting motion with his finger across his throat. "Move it!"
Daniel would've balked at Frank's histrionics if he hadn't said the magic words - Corporate Headquarters. There might be some truth to the office gossip he’d overheard in the coffee room. They'd find out at the meeting.
Daniel’s plan was to slip quietly into the conference room without notice and take the nearest chair. When he opened the door, he was horrified to find all the seats occupied and people leaning against the walls.
"It's nice you could join us." Douglas Toland, the company President, remarked.
Daniel's cheeks flushed hotly. All eyes in the room were on him. He lowered his head, said nothing and moved to blend in with the others leaning against the wall.
"As I was saying before our interruption," Ed Brody, Division Manager, continued, "there are going to be some changes and, I'm afraid, some of you will be leaving us. I'm not sure where we’ll be streamlining but we need to tighten our belts. We're trying to work smarter not harder. We hired time management consultants several weeks ago..."
There were several gasps and terrified expressions froze on many faces.
"Good! I see no one detected them. Because of the reports sent to us by our consultants, we realized how much time and money is being wasted. In this market, we can't afford to give away money or business. Each of your department heads will meet with you individually. The results of the survey will be discussed as well as what management has planned for your department. So, if no one has any questions, this meeting is adjourned."
The happy chattering people who had entered the conference room left solemn and grim faced. Daniel wasn't too worried.
Oh, sure, I was little late for the meeting, but I’ve been with the company for thirteen years, right out of college. My progress reports have all been positive, and I’ve always gotten a raise. They wouldn’t have sent me to the conference last year if they were unhappy with my work, would they?
They needed the expertise of his field. That's what they told him when they recruited him before graduation. He couldn’t really see how anything had changed.
The only person beside Daniel not fazed by the news was Frank. Daniel couldn't understand why he should be so carefree. He felt kind of sorry for the guy. Frank was one of the last to be hired. They were always the first to go.
Back in the office, Daniel checked his phone messages and, sure enough, there was his Monday morning call from Nadine.
Frank bounced into their office. "Man, didn't you read your email Friday?"
Daniel muttered something about being too involved with a mother board problem to be reading mail on the computer.
Frank looked at him, "You don't know how to use it, do you?"
Daniel tried to ignore him. He gathered the materials he'd need to face Nadine.
Frank persisted, "You don't know how, do you?"
"Alright. I don't know how to use this system and don't see why I need to know. The old email system and phone messaging work fine. They’ve worked perfectly well for thirteen years. I'll be in accounting." Daniel grabbed his materials and huffed out of the office.
Frank shook his head. "Poor guy just doesn't get it. He's going to get left behind if he doesn't start trying to learn the new technology."
Frank dug into the new project Mr. Toland had entrusted to him. He needed to figure out one more angle, and the program would save the company millions in freight and shipping costs. It was so easy it was like stealing money. Capitalism was great.
Daniel lived through the horror of Nadine the Accounting Witch, yet again. If they didn't find the glitch in her program, he was sure he'd develop a bleeding ulcer. He struggled through the rest of the day. Five o'clock finally arrived. The reception area was jammed with unusually somber office workers fleeing to the haven of their homes and families. Daniel envied those with families. They had someone to whom they could vent their feelings. He went home to an empty house.
He really had no one to blame but himself. When he'd first started with the company, his college sweetheart, then fiancé, had also been hired. After one too many nights of overtime, she returned his ring and quit the company. She'd gone back to school to become a dental assistant. She'd married her boss, the dentist. Daniel heard they had a thriving practice and three kids.
Well, he had this townhouse, Gram hinted she was going to will it to him, and he was saving for that car. Daniel steered the Thunderbird carefully into the garage, got out and closed the door. Walking to the mailbox, he heard the high-pitched whine of the finely tuned sport car before he saw it.
Screeching around the corner, the red beauty skidded into the driveway. The driver got out and stretched his long legs.
"Beautiful car." Daniel heard himself say to the neighbor.
"Yeah, it's an expensive toy my wife wanted. I'd rather have your Thunderbird." The neighbor said as he strolled into his side of the townhouses.
Daniel stood admiring the lines in the dusky light. If he had an expensive sports car, he'd never be alone. He was sure men who drove them had their pick of women, jobs, everything life had to offer. Sighing, he closed his empty mailbox and went inside. After a day like today, all he wanted was to heat up a TV dinner and relax.
~ * ~
Taking the hot tray out of the oven with potholders, Daniel maneuvered through the dining room and set the dinner on the TV tray in front of his lounge chair. He looked at the TV Guide. There was nothing worth watching. Monday nights were desolate unless you were a sports fan. He’d finish his dinner and read until he got tired enough to go to bed.
Weather during Indian summer was proving unpredictable. It could be cold and frosty in the morning and blistering hot in the afternoon. Tonight was uncomfortably warm. Daniel left a window open hoping for a cool breeze to stir the stifling air. The heat wrapped around him laying across his skin but after tossing and turning, Daniel finally dropped off to sleep.
~ * ~
“You miserable excuse for a man!”
“You’re right I’m miserable. And guess who made me miserable?”
“Take your damned expensive playtoy and go back to your hooker girlfriend!”
“Anything to get away from you, you witch!”
~ * ~
He awoke at three a.m. to the sound of screaming, cursing voices. He thought he was dreaming until he heard the blood-curdling scream. Blue and red flashing light strobed across his walls. He crawled out of bed to see what was happening. A couple of police cars were parked outside his neighbor's home. The woman was screaming and waving a knife-welding fist at the man he’d seen after work in the driveway. He was shouting obscenities and lunging toward her, grabbing at the knife. Two large police officers were keeping the couple apart. Feeling confident the police had things handled, Daniel retreated to bed. He had to get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, rather later today, his department was having the meeting the Regional Manager had mentioned. A good night’s sleep would keep him at the top of his game to make sure he had all the answers the manager would need.
~ * ~
Tuesday, Daniel arrived on time. In the center of his desk, he found simple typed instructions for getting into his email. He followed the instructions. He was flabbergasted at the vast amount of communication occurring within the company on the new system. He realized, to his horror, he'd missed three different department meetings. Why hadn't anybody said anything to me? He took a couple deep breaths and reminded himself; they really need me; they really need me. They'd said as much last week. He'd be sure to stay on top of his email from now on.
The department meeting was brief. Each employee was handed a sheet of paper listing the problems found within their area.
John, the department head cleared his throat.
“Okay everyone. I know this is stressful for us all, but today’s meeting is a troubleshooting session–nothing more. We’ll start work on those items on each of your lists. Hopefully, we can keep from ‘streamlining’,” he used his fingers to make quote marks, “anyone out of their job. Please keep in mind you have to give 110% to make this process successful.
“I’ll be talking with each of you personally to see where I might be able to help you bring your work game…”
Daniel groaned inwardly. John was an avid football junkie and never missed an opportunity to insert some kind of football analogy in his presentations.
“…to a higher level. Until that time, read the list and think about what’s been noted.
“Now get back to work.”
John smiled and with a flick of his hand dismissed the meeting.
Everyone gave a sigh of relief and meandered to their respective offices.
Daniel handled four service calls then finished his paperwork an hour early. He left for home. He'd put in so many overtime hours this week he reasoned if he left early using the time as comp time, he’d be saving the company money. Besides, everyone he called in the Human Resources Department, as well as his boss, all had their phones on voice mail. He’d make sure he got hold of someone tomorrow. Surely that’ll be all right? John said everything was fine today in the meeting.
When he pulled into the driveway of his home, the red vision was sitting outside the garage of his next-door neighbor’s townhouse. Daniel felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He didn't really know his neighbor, but what he'd observed told him this was not usual.
He started up the sidewalk to his home.
"Excuse me...?" the neighbor said.
"Daniel," he replied.
"Mike." The two men shook hands.
"Listen, Daniel, I've noticed you admiring my Ferrari," Mike said.
"Yeah. I'm saving to buy one myself. You know, a prize for sacrificing everything else?" Daniel answered.
"How'd you like to have this one?" Mike asked.
"You're joking, right?"
"No."
"I don't think I could afford it right now..." Daniel started.
"One dollar." Mike said.
"One dollar?"
Daniel was sure he'd wake up at any moment.
"One dollar and your Thunderbird. Straight across. I'll sign the title right now."
Daniel pulled out his wallet and handed Mike a dollar. He watched as Mike signed the title over to him. He recognized the name - Mike Jacobson's Foreign Fantasies. He'd driven past the car lot several times admiring the expensive European autos on display.
He cleaned out the Thunderbird and signed the title to Mike who placed a large valise inside the trunk of the Thunderbird and parked at the curb in front of his townhouse. Daniel slid behind the wheel of the Ferrari. The leather smell was intoxicating. He fleetingly thought about taking the car out on the expressway and opening up but slowly, carefully parked the beauty in his garage.
As he was closing the garage door, he noticed Mike saunter to the front porch of the townhouse next door and knock. A blonde yanked opened the door. He observed the animated discussion at the front entry. Even from his driveway, Daniel could see the blonde was furious. When Mike handed her an envelope and the dollar bill Daniel had just paid him, her face transformed into a crimson shade he had never seen before. He watched Mike belly laugh, bow slightly to her then turn and walk to the Thunderbird. He hopped in and drove away. The blonde glared hotly at Daniel. Turning on her heel, she went inside slamming the front door.
~ * ~
The following morning a large moving van sat in front of the house next door.
Daniel had risen an hour early. He dressed, ate and hurried to the garage. Taking a soft cloth, he lovingly began to stroke the red beauty now parked in his garage. He still couldn't believe she belonged to him. After caressing her carefully to a glowing red, he climbed in and drove languidly to work. Wait until the guys in accounting see me now. All their jokes about him being a penny pincher would disappear. Frank pulled his Honda car next to the red beauty as Daniel was emerging.
"Wow! Who died and left you millions?" Frank advanced around the red beauty rattling off statistics making Daniel's head swim.
"Look, I don't know about any of that stuff. All I know is I like her, I've worked for her and now I have her." Daniel gloated.
Frank continued to roll off statistics as they tramped through the lobby and up the elevator to their office. Daniel had tuned him out until Frank mentioned insurance.
"Oh, man." Daniel groaned. "I've got to call my insurance agent and let him know I've changed cars."
"Do you know how much it's going to run you?" Frank asked him. He shook his head.
Daniel ignored him. He had plenty of money saved and his outgoing expenses were minimal. Confident he could afford a fairly high insurance bill, he called the family’s insurance agent.
When Daniel called and inquired about insurance for the Ferrari, Bob roared with laughter.
"Thanks, Daniel. I needed a good laugh. Now, really, what'd you get? A new Honda? An Acura? What?" Bob asked.
"Bob, I'm serious. It's a 1998 Ferrari. There's less than 10,000 miles on it. Can you let me know how much it's going to cost? Thanks. Call the figure to me at my office. I've got to go. I've got a full day ahead." Daniel hung up before his insurance agent could say more.
"I'll bet the only place that'll insure you is Lloyd’s of London." Frank declared.
"Don't be ridiculous. They only insure one of a kind things like Betty Grable's legs or the Titanic or stuff like that," Daniel shot back.
"Whose legs?" Frank asked.
Daniel shook his head. This guy is so young. What I need to do is start working on Nadine's accounting problem. He was determined to repair her computer before the end of this week. He really didn't want to start every week with a visit to her office.
When the phone on Daniel's desk rang an hour later, he was deep into the problem.
"Daniel Wilkes." He answered.
"Danny¼"
He winced. Only his father was allowed to call him Danny.
"It's Bob. There's only one agency that'll insure your car--Lloyds of London. And mister, it's going to cost you. About $500 base rate plus every mile over 100 will cost an additional $10.00 per mile."
Daniel groaned. It was a lot of money but state law required every car be insured.
"I'll just have to do it, Bob. I don't have a choice. You need a check now?"
"No. You paid for insurance on the T-Bird for the year. I'll just take what's left and apply it as a retainer on this new vehicle. You sure you're going to be able to afford this?" Bob asked.
"Yeah, I'll be able to afford it. I have very few expenses. Might as well treat myself." Daniel chuckled.
"I'll get all the paperwork in order and send it to the house. Bye, Danny." Bob hung up leaving Daniel feeling irritated.
What business was it of his insurance agent's to ask if he could or couldn't afford this car? Well, it was a moot point. He had the car, and now he had insurance. Daniel went back to the accounting problem in front of him. The solution was staring him in the face. He knew it. He just couldn't see it right now. Maybe a fresh cup of coffee would open up his brain cells. Daniel moved to the small coffee maker on the credenza and poured himself a cup.
"Need help?" Frank asked.
"Nah. I need to approach the problem from another angle, that's all." Daniel answered.
"Sometimes a new set of eyes can see what you can't. If you decide you want help, just let me know." Frank offered.
"Thanks." If this coffee doesn’t work, maybe…
Setting his coffee cup on the desk, he answered his ringing phone.
"Yes, sir, of course. Right away, sir." He hung up the phone.
"I've got to see the boss." Daniel made the statement to no one in particular.
He strode down the long corridor to John's office. His mind turned over all the possibilities for this meeting. He realized at yesterday's meeting John had stated each employee would be met individually.
"That's right. They're just filling me in on what we'll be doing to improve our company production." Daniel relaxed. He was, after all, the only Computer Tech still here from the group recruited out of his college class. His expertise was indispensable. His knowledge covered the beginning of the company's computer changeover to the present. He knew what these programs could and couldn't do.
Unlike Frank, who seems to think these computers are limitless. I know they have boundaries we can't cross. Daniel knocked on the door marked John Spencer, Manager Information Services.
A voice from behind the door instructed him to enter the office. Daniel took the seat offered him.
"You're Daniel Wilkes, right?" the manager asked.
"Yes, sir." Daniel would've been insulted but the company had grown so quickly in the last two years he knew keeping track of all the employees was impossible.
"Well, Daniel, this company is in the information business. And our department is the heart of the business."
Daniel nodded his agreement. That's what he liked about his job. It was the center of the company, which made him important in the day-to-day running.
"We've been receiving complaints from other departments you're hard to work with. Your attitude seems to be you're doing everyone a favor by showing up to handle their computer problems."
Daniel didn't understand. He’d just been doing his job--fixing their computer snafus. Sure he was a little—grumpy, now and again, but for the most part, he did his job and left. Now they were complaining? He was sure Mr. Spencer would understand his position. He was, after all, one of them. The Computer Guys.
"I'm afraid we're going to have to let you go. You've continually rejected the new technology set in place by Corporate. Your co-worker, Frank, has embraced the new technology and improved on the original. He's setting standards for this company I'm not sure many will be able to reach. We might have kept you if you'd taken a page from his book and worked on ideas and problems with him. However, we've had reports you’re resistant to the changes the company must make to stay competitive in today's market."
John Spencer leaned over his desk and pushed an envelope to Daniel.
"Your final check is there along with a month's severance pay and payment for the four weeks of vacation you would've earned this year. I'm sorry, Daniel, but you'll need to be off company property before noon."
Daniel realized Mr. Spencer had ended the meeting. There'd be no appeal. Clutching the envelope, he stumbled down the long hallway to his office unaware of the activity around him.
They can’t fire me. I’ve been here for 13 years. I know all the old systems. They just can’t!
Daniel cleaned his desk of personal items and dumped his problems into Frank's in-box. Let him handle Nadine every Monday.
He picked up his briefcase, the few personal items he had and left. For the first time in thirteen years, Daniel felt like an intruder in the building he'd made his second home. The gloom would've consumed him but the moment he saw the car, his car, he brightened up. He'd saved enough money on his own to take six months off. Even with the expensive insurance, he'd not have to worry. Once inside the car, he opened the envelope. The figure on the check disgusted him. I’ve given the company thirteen years of my life and this is all they think I’m worth? He gunned the engine and, squealing out of the parking lot, left skid marks all the way down the street.
He'd show them. He had enough resources he could take his time looking for another job. He was experienced enough to pick and choose where he'd work.
Daniel headed to his townhouse. He parked the car in the driveway and noted the house next door was empty. His neighbor had moved out in less than three hours. There was a ‘For Lease’ sign on the front lawn with the number of a local realtor.
He dropped his briefcase on the entry table and shuffled to the kitchen to make a sandwich. He peeked out the window at the mailbox. The flag was down; the mail had come. He ambled to the curb, opened the door, and pulled out the envelopes. He noticed a letter addressed to him in his grandmother's elegant writing. Great! He needed some good news, and Gram was always good for a laugh or two. Her letters chatted up happenings at the nursing home.
He carried the letter to the living room and plopped on the couch to read it. She opened with her unique greeting.
Hey there, buddy boy,
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Just a note to let you know I’ve sold the townhouse to defray the ever-rising medical costs here. My lawyer told me to get rid of everything so the state will declare me destitute then I can stay. It’s become my home, Danny. I don’t want to have to come live with you cause you have your own life to live, after all.
Sorry for the short notice, hon. The new owners want to move in on the 17th. I know you’ll understand.
Love,
Grams
Daniel looked at the date the new owners wanted to take possession, the 17th. He had three days to move.
What is happening? He stared out his front window at the status symbol sitting in the driveway. He had to keep her. But how? Right now he didn't even have a place to live. Remembering the For Lease sign next door, he looked out and wrote down the number. He called. He choked when they told him how much rent they wanted for the identical townhouse next door; two months up front plus a cleaning deposit. It would nearly wipe out his savings. Even with his last check he'd only have a month to search for a job that would compensate him with a salary sufficient for the cost of the townhouse, the insurance on the car, utilities, food and car gas. Daniel had a choice to make – less expensive apartment or part with the car. His heart was set on this car. He called around. The affordable apartments were in the less desirable sections of town. Places he knew he couldn't keep the car protected. Reluctantly, he concluded he needed to call Mike and see if he'd take the Ferrari and give Daniel his Thunderbird. He'd be able to live in a less expensive apartment and have transportation.
He dialed the number listed in the phone book for Mike Jacobson's Foreign Fantasies.
“The number you have reached is no longer working. If you believe you have reached this number in error, please hang up and dial again. Thank you.”
He frantically phoned the information operator.
“For what city?”
“Austin, Texas.”
“How can I help you?”
“Yes. I’d like the listed number for Mike Jacobson’s Foreign Fantasies.”
“Please spell Jacobson for me.”
Daniel pulled out the business card.
“Jacobson.”
“One moment please while I search for that number.”
The silence was unnerving. Daniel felt his heart thudding in his chest and the palms of his hands were getting moist.
“Sir?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have a listing for a Mike Jacobson’s Foreign Fantasies.”
“Are you sure? I have his business card in my hand! Check again.”
The operator sighed heavily.
“Yes, sir. I’m checking Austin – no Mike Jacobson’s Foreign Fantasies; checking West Lake Hills, Rollingwood, Oak Hill… no Mike Jacobson’s Foreign Fantasies. Would you like me to check further sir? Maybe Houston or San Antonio, sir?”
Daniel shook his head. “No, thank you.”
He slumped forlornly glaring at the phone. His life was a shambles. Even worse was the realization he'd done this to himself. He'd turned down opportunities at work to learn a new system because he was sure they wouldn't get rid of him. He'd let his desire for this car override his common sense. He should've realized Gram would need to sell the townhouse to stay in the nursing home. He been too busy being smug about how good he had it. Well, now, he was unemployed and three days from homelessness. But he had the car of his dreams for all the good it did him. He looked at the date on his final check.
Happy Valentine’s Day to me.
Next time, he'd be careful what he wished for.
