a questionable life Read online

  “Are you implying we’re crooks?” he asked, raising his already high-pitched voice.

  “No, I’m not implying anything. I’m just looking at the facts. Your father’s business signed a contract that says when we must receive payment. I need a check now for all of the cars you’ve sold. Otherwise, you’re in default,” I said, never changing my gaze into his eyes.

  Frank Jr. begged for time.

  “You’re out of time,” I said. “You owe us the money. Pay it and I’ll leave.” I didn’t flinch. I felt power, real power for the first time in my career. I had to hold back a smile.

  “My father will be back in town late tomorrow,” Frank Jr. said. “I’m sure he’ll want to come to the bank and talk to Chad about the situation.”

  “Tell him what he needs to bring—a check covering all of the out-of-trust cars,” I said. “That’s what we expect.” After leaving the dealership I found a pay phone, called Chad, and reported on what I found and what I had told Frank Jr.

  “Excellent job, Jack,” he said. “Come to my office at seven o’clock on Monday morning and we’ll plan our next step. You did a great job. You also proved what was important to you. I won’t forget it.”

  Tina and Jessica were scheduled to leave the hospital on Sunday, but a complication in Jessica’s breathing warranted the doctor keeping her till Monday for observation. My schedule was now very complicated. I had another choice to make. I told Tina I had to be at work on Monday morning early, but would then come to the hospital and take her and the baby home.

  “No, my sister is in town. Alice said she would help, so you go ahead and take care of more important things,” Tina said, almost as if she expected me to not be available. “I’ll take care of things here—the less-important things in your life.”

  I swallowed her sarcasm. I knew in my gut that Chad would make things more difficult the next morning if I was a minute late. I thanked her for being understanding.

  “Oh, I understand Jack,” she said. “I understand.”

  When I met with Chad Monday morning he was in a great mood. That wasn’t what I expected from a person who just found out that someone was cheating his business and putting a half a million dollars at risk. I went over the details with Chad. He took notes and asked questions to understand every detail of what I found and did not find. He then called Frank Smith Sr., and put the call on speaker phone.

  “Frank, this is Chad. You’re out-of-trust. I want your line of credit paid off by noon today or I will repossess every car on your lot and put you out of business,” Chad said in a cold, matter-of-fact voice. I was in as much of a state of shock as Mr. Smith.

  “That’s impossible!” Mr. Smith replied. “You know I can’t do that. Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Read your loan contracts. You have two options. You can either bring me the money, or you can execute the agreement to sell your dealership to Andy French. One or the other by noon, or I will own your dealership for a lot less than what Andy is offering to pay you.”

  Andy French was on PT&G’s board of directors. He owned several car dealerships in the Philadelphia area. I had never heard his name associated with Frank Smith. What was Chad doing?

  “You’re a bastard, Chad,” Smith said. “Just like your father, you don’t care about anyone but yourself. I’ll sign the papers—French can own this place. You got your way. I hope you burn in hell.”

  “Thanks, Frank, for seeing it my way,” Chad said. “That’s the best thing for everyone, and you know it. Thanks.”

  Smith had already hung up before he heard the final “thanks” from Chad.

  Chad had just forced a client to sell his business to a member of the bank’s board. Chad had used the defaulted loan as leverage. He used me to get the job done because he didn’t want anyone else to know, and he knew I’d be quiet. I was numb.

  “Jack, you now have a taste for real banking. You liked doing this, didn’t you? I could see it in your eyes. You liked having the power to tell Frank Smith’s rich, stupid son that he had to pay up or get out, didn’t you?”

  I didn’t know what to say. “I was just following your instructions. It was my job,” I said.

  “And that is why you’ll get ahead,” Chad said. He smiled. “Follow my orders, and you and I will have a great relationship.”

  I felt at that moment I had sold my soul. It was something I had never expected.

  The timer went off on the stove. My turkey dinner was ready. I walked into the kitchen and using a dish towel pulled the meal from the oven. I looked out the window and saw the steady traffic passing on the street below. It was raining, blurring the lights on the cars, as if they were connected.

  Where were they going at this time of the night? Home? What is home? I sat down at the small table. Taking the first bite of potatoes I realized the dinner was not done. I threw the tray in the trash can and decided to opt for another drink. I told myself that I’d stop after this one.

  Making my way back into the small living room, I turned the television around facing the recliner. Sitting back in the recliner I hit the remote, but nothing happened. I saw again the reflection on the darkened television screen—a wave of hopelessness poured over me. I wanted to talk to Tina, but it was too late and I was too drunk. I threw the remote control across the room, barely missing the television. The remote was in pieces.

  As meticulously as I had planned my life I had somehow gone off course. “Is this all there is?” I said aloud. I leaned the recliner back with a thrust that almost tipped the chair over. Maybe this was why my father killed himself, I thought to myself, mentally stepping toward the abyss.

  I opened my eyes and looked at the ceiling, which was marked with stains from a leak. I needed a plumber. A plumber—that’s what I could have done with my life.

  It was after midnight. While exhausted, my mind continued to run full throttle. I thought back to the first time I met Cassie. My life’s journey was littered with events that signaled I had reached a fork in the road. Was it coincidence or fate?

  “Timing is everything,” I said aloud, shutting my eyes and remembering that day and that fork in the road. Like many other times, my timing was off.

  There is only now.

  —BENJAMIN FRANKLIN PRICE

  10. What Time Is It?

  “WHAT TIME IS IT?” Tina asked still in a half-sleep.

  “You don’t want to know,” I said. “It’s early.” It was four-thirty in the morning. Even for a late-to-bed-and-early-to-rise Jack Oliver, this was early.

  “Why are you going in to the office so early today?” she asked.

  “I have something to do, something unpleasant.”

  “So, what’s new?” Tina said, rolling over and covering her head with a pillow. In a muffled tone I heard her say, “You would think you were a mortician instead of a banker.”

  The day before, Chad had called me into his office and given me the news. I had earned a promotion and management assignment after my one year in the PT&G management trainee program. Even though I had received a pay raise along with the promotion, I didn’t feel like celebrating the event—strings were attached.

  “Jack, you’ve done a great job in everything I’ve asked. You’re dedicated, and I trust you. I want you to have a challenge—something you can really sink your teeth into,” Chad said. He gave me a rare smile. “I am putting you in charge of our Fifth Street office. The office has been underperforming for years. You’ve worked there before, haven’t you?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I worked there as a teller before you promoted me.”

  “I thought you had—that’s good. I think you know that the people in that office are the same people who started there when we opened it. It’s time for a change. They need a fresh approach. You’re the man, Jack.”

  The Fifth Street office was located on the edge of one of the trendier sections of Philly. The area had been almost in ruins until Thomas Skeens, a respected developer in Philadelphia, bought everything
he could find and began a refurbishing campaign. Skeens was one of PT&G’s largest borrowers, with several million in loans outstanding. At first, his efforts had seemed doomed to failure. But his idea finally caught hold, and one of the worst neighborhoods became one of the gems of Philly residential markets.

  “You have one year to get the office up to my expectations. Don’t let me down,” Chad reminded me. “The future is now, Jack—make good things happen.”

  I was listening and thinking about the office. Chad hadn’t mentioned what he was going to do with Henry Starnes, the manager of the office since it opened.

  “Chad, I appreciate the opportunity and will not let you down. The office does have a lot of potential,” I said, “but I’m curious. What are you going to do with Henry?”

  “One of the first things you need to do is clean house,” Chad replied. “The cleaning starts at the top. I want you to fire Henry tomorrow. That will get everyone’s attention.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Henry was one of the nicest people in the organization. Everyone at PT&G liked him. Henry was one of the first people I worked with and had given me recognition for doing my job as a teller. I liked him.

  “Why is he being fired?” I asked.

  “You do want the job don’t you?” Chad responded gruffly.

  “Yes sir—but why are we firing Henry?” I asked.

  “We aren’t firing Henry—you are,” Chad said.

  “Why am I firing him?” I asked.

  “Are you questioning my decision?” Chad asked.

  Knowing I had crossed a very clear line with Chad, I said, “No. I wouldn’t question you. I have never fired anyone. I just want to know how to handle it.”

  “Here is your short lesson in firing people. Call it Firing 101,” he said. The smile made its second appearance. “Walk into Henry’s office. Tell him I just made you the new manager and he no longer has a job. Tell him to clean out his desk, turn in his keys, and be out of the office by closing time. That is all you say. Never say that you’re sorry or blame it on me or anyone else. Just do it exactly like that, and everything will be okay. Can you do that?” Chad asked, leaning back in his chair.

  “Yes—I will do what you told me,” I said. “I won’t let you down.”

  “Good—I know you will,” he said. “Get that dinosaur out of there and do some business.”

  I didn’t tell Tina about the new assignment. I felt guilty for the way I was getting the promotion. I couldn’t sleep that night and went to work early and reviewed reports comparing the PT&G offices to see how the office matched up. My stomach was in knots.

  I still didn’t understand why I was firing Henry as I drove to the Fifth Street office. Don’t you need a reason to fire someone? I wondered, making my way through the maze of stoplights. My hands were visibly shaking and my heart pounding rapidly. I had never fired anyone. Why did it have to be Henry? What was even worse was I was taking his place. Henry had been at PT&G for thirty-six years. While his performance may not have been great, it was never terrible. But I had a job to do.

  I entered the office and spoke casually to the tellers and Sherry Hall, the receptionist. Sherry had moved from Georgia years ago but had kept her accent. People always made fun of her, labeling her as “slow” because of her speech, but the customers seemed to like her. She reminded me of Scarlet from Gone with the Wind. “You must be lost, Jack Oliver, comin’ to this side of the city,” Sherry joked. “How ya doin’?”

  “I’m doing fine,” I said. “I need to talk to Henry.”

  “Henry is in the back makin’ coffee—doin’ his morning chores,” she said, laughing. “Do you want me to get him for ya?”

  “That’ll be fine,” I said. “I’ll just wait in his office.”

  Walking through the lobby on my first real step up the company ladder should have been something I wanted to always remember as a special moment. I knew I would always remember the moment, but now for unhappy reasons.

  I had tried my best to find common ground with Chad regarding Henry’s fate. I looked at every piece of comparative information on Henry’s office. The office was slightly below average among the bank’s fifty-four offices. But you could make a strong case that almost one-half of our managers could be facing the same fate as Henry, based on their performance.

  So why was Henry being singled out? Maybe it was his lack of leadership? He was making coffee. He had other people who could make coffee. Sherry was teasing Henry about “doin’ his chores.” At his salary he was wasting the bank’s money. That is it, I realized. Henry is old and does not have the strength to lead. He is a dinosaur who needs to go. That is what I kept telling myself as I stepped into his office to wait for him to finish his chores.

  The first things I noticed were the family photos on his credenza. Henry obviously had a lot of children and grandchildren. I counted at least four children from the older family portrait on the corner of the bookcase. What I was getting ready to do would not make me popular with any of these strangers. They would probably curse my name every time they heard it. But I had a job to do.

  I started thinking about my own family. Jessica was a toddler. In one year I had spent a grand total of one evening alone with my daughter—forced to do so when Tina attended a baby shower for one of her college friends. My work had kept me busy. I was trying to get experience in every department. It had taken its toll on my home life, but Jessica was a baby and wouldn’t notice I wasn’t there. I’ll do better, I thought.

  Henry stepped into the office without his jacket on, wearing a rumpled white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It looked like he had slept in it.

  “Hey Jack!” Henry said, extending his hand. “We miss you coming in and subbing on our teller line—you were the best.”

  “Yeah, I miss it in some ways,” I said, shaking his hand, still unsure of how I could get to the reason I was visiting.

  “You’re moving up the ladder,” he said. “Congratulations on the promotion to management trainee. I’m sure your family is very proud of you.” He released my hand from his firm handshake. He seemed very sincere.

  “Well, that’s been almost a year ago—I’ve been busy,” I said, feeling awkward.

  “Has it been that long?” Henry said. “You’ve got a new addition to your family, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, a little girl, Jessica,” I said.

  “Ah, that’s great! I love ’em when they’re little and they can’t talk back,” he said, laughing. “You’ll see what I’m talking about when she gets to be a teenager.”

  Still trying to find a way to change the conversation, I muttered, “I haven’t got to spend a lot of time with her. You know how work is.”

  “I’ll give you a little advice from someone who made a mistake,” he said, turning his head to look at the pictures on the credenza. “I spent too much time at work and not enough with the kids—I know that now.”

  I did not know what to say. “Would you mind shutting the door, Henry?” I asked as I sat down in one of the chairs facing his desk.

  “Sure thing, Jack. You act like someone just run over your cat or something,” he said as he shut the door and sat down behind his desk. He remained leaning forward with both hands folded on his desk. “So, what brings you to Fifth Street?”

  “Henry, you’re fired,” I said as slowly and carefully as I could, trying to hide every emotion from my voice and expressions. I made sure to keep looking into his eyes, hoping he would not see my own fear. “You need to get everything out of the office by four o’clock today,” I continued without any hesitation or stammering.

  “What did you say?” Henry asked.

  “You’re fired,” I said.

  “Is this some kind of joke?” he asked, nervously laughing and hitting the top of the desk with his hands. “Jack, you gotta be kidding?”

  “I would not kid you about something like this,” I said. “Henry, you’re fired.” I wanted to say I was sorry, but Chad was right. I
could see how saying I was sorry would only open up a huge Pandora’s box of comments. I stuck to my preprogrammed routine without compromise. I must be strong, I kept telling myself.

  “Wait a minute. You really aren’t kidding are you?” Henry said as his mouth grew taut and most of the color faded from his face. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I have been promoted as manager at Fifth Street,” I responded, with the most emotionless tone I could muster. “The office has underperformed. I’m going to fix it.”

  Henry’s face was now a crimson red. “You little weasel. You did this, didn’t you? You wanted this office and got me fired,” Henry said.

  “I had nothing to do with the past problems,” I replied, holding back my anger and frustration with the situation. “I’m here to make this office a high performer.”

  “I think I know what this is about,” Henry said in a much calmer voice. A grin grew on his still crimson face. “You’re just doing Chad’s dirty work. I’m being fired because I wouldn’t sign off on one of Chad’s loan deals. It’s making sense now. You’re just his henchman.”

  I didn’t have a clue what Henry was talking about. I really was afraid to ask. I didn’t. “Whatever you say won’t change the fact I have a job to do,” I said. “You need to pack up and leave.”

  “I’m disappointed in you,” he said as he sighed and shook his head from side to side. “I would have never thought that the same young kid who was so happy to have a job at a bank and come in dressed like he got the clothes at a thrift shop would ever have the balls to walk in my office and fire me like this. You know, at first, everyone was pulling for you—but we started to see through your act. I bet you didn’t know that everyone was on to your game—but we are, Jack. We see you for what you are. You’ll do anything to get ahead and you met a willing partner in Chad. You two are quite a team.”

  “Well,” I responded, “that’s life.” Wanting to end the nightmarish situation, I repeated, “You’re fired. You have until four o’clock to clear out of this office or I’ll have security help you.” As I got up, Henry stood and reached out and grabbed my arm, gripping it tightly.