We'll Call You

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We'll Call You Page 4

by Jacob Sundberg


  ‘Yes. It’s really true,’ said Gomez.

  ‘Open questions,’ said Sebastian.

  ‘Open questions,’ repeated Gomez.

  ‘And one small detail, if you don’t mind my saying?’ said Sebastian.

  ‘No, sure.’

  ‘It’s really not important for me, I just mean if you are meeting clients… It’s maybe best to not chew gum. It can come across as a touch arrogant.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Think and think… As I say, as far as I’m concerned, it’s fine. In this forum, sure.’

  Gomez nodded amicably.

  ‘Just one more, tiny, little thing,’ said Sebastian and put up his thumb and forefinger close to each other to show that it really was the smallest of things.

  Gomez took a deep breath. ‘Sure.’

  ‘And it probably has nothing to do with you. But I wonder if it’s a good idea to have such bold wallpaper in here. I imagine that you want the client to really feel relaxed here. I’d prefer a pale, single coloured wallpaper. Light blue would be great and is supposed to have therapeutic qualities into the bargain.’ He shrugged. ‘But you’ve probably already thought of that here and one can’t do everything at once. And of course I understand that a lot has to do with where you choose to put your money in a public institution.’

  She shook her head, clearly subconsciously. Sebastian felt a pang in his chest and was pulled back to the times when his classmates rejected him. But he quickly pushed away the feeling, because he knew that it wasn’t a matter of him having done anything wrong or said anything out of place, it was just that he was so smart that people did not know how to act. The fact that Gomez was shaking her head didn’t mean that she did not like him, on the contrary. He had been there for five minutes and had already identified several areas of improvement. She was naturally completely taken aback by his acuity, she quite simply could not understand what luck they had in him coming in. It was always like this. He didn’t strain himself, he just had an ability for grasping things, thinking outside of the box, keeping his eyes open, coming up with solutions. That was what intelligence was about. Problem solving ability. He personally didn’t see problems, he saw solutions. How smart was he? Well, if he were to find himself in a room with one hundred other people, he was statistically likely to be the smartest. If he was in a full arena he would definitely be top three. Definitely. It was at that level. It was at that level, thought Sebastian, while Gomez considered what she would say next.

  ‘Let’s see,’ she said. ‘I’d like to hear a bit about how you view your professional skills. Would you say that you prefer working in a group or alone?’

  Right, here comes the first proper question, thought Sebastian. About time. Group work or alone, she wondered. He mastered both, but the question was whether he needed colleagues, the risk was more that they would pull him back, as a group is never stronger than its weakest link.

  ‘I’d say that the question is not the right one. What I prefer is not interesting really, the question is what would best serve a purpose in the work to be carried out.’

  ‘Uhuh, interesting.’

  ‘I can work in a group…’ said Sebastian.

  ‘But?’ added Gomez, as if she perceived an objection.

  He brightened up. ‘Good, you read me well there. This is what I’m talking about. Listen, get a feeling. Really good, Maria!’

  Gomez laughed. ‘Go on.’

  ‘But,’ said Sebastian, ‘you are right, there is a but. I think that working in groups, in my case at least, is restrictive.’

  ‘How so?’

  She had of course noticed that he was something completely extraordinary. He didn’t need to write it down for her.

  ‘I think you understand,’ he said.

  ‘No, please explain.’

  He looked at her with a ‘you must be joking’ expression. She looked back as if she was not joking. Sebastian rolled his eyes and sighed.

  ‘Working in a group can be really creative and stimulating. But if you have, how can I put it, if you have particular abilities, then it can be a hindrance to have to be considerate. To wait for others to catch up. It can be quite frustrating.’

  ‘You see yourself as having special abilities?’ she asked, or rather stated.

  He just looked at her and smiled. Then he winked slowly with one eye and kept smiling. She knew that he knew that she knew.

  ‘Ok,’ she said, ‘so you’re a bit… one of a kind.’

  His genius had not escaped her, she now confirmed this out loud.

  ‘Flattering,’ he said. ‘But you don’t need to put it like that. It’s not something I have earned, it’s just a kind of gift… No, I should say it’s not something I speak about. If others draw the conclusion that you just did,’ he nodded at her, ‘then it is up to them. But of course it is something I do often hear.’

  ‘What, more specifically, is it that you often hear?’

  ‘I’d rather not go into detail. It may seem boastful.’

  Gomez passed her hand through her hair and wrapped a lock of it around her forefinger. Sebastian knew what this meant: she was attracted to him. There was nothing odd about that, he had seen this behaviour before, many times in fact, women who were drawn to intelligent men. To him. Had he wanted to, he could have slept with her; he had just read Neil Strauss’ book The Game and knew exactly which signals he needed to send out in order to, so to speak, achieve results. Yes, he had of course already known this before he read The Game, the book just confirmed his deepest understanding. But he wasn’t planning on sleeping with Gomez. It was unfair. That she was married was problematic in itself – yes, he’d seen the ring, nothing got past him – but it was even worse from a purely demographic perspective: if he were to use his incredible advantage every time the chance was there, which women would be left for all the other men? With great power comes great responsibility and few had greater responsibility than Sebastian Lund.

  ‘More questions?’ he said.

  ‘I’ll be honest with you Sebastian,’ said Gomez. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea that we continue with this interview. I think you understand?’

  Sebastian smiled and nodded. Of course he understood. Everything was already decided, she had already made her mind up and under the circumstances it was pointless to drag it out. Straight onto discussing salary, he thought. Gomez continued.

  ‘On the other hand, I did set aside an hour for this interview and do have a few questions left, which I’m obliged to ask.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Let’s get it over with, Maria.’

  They were in agreement. The job was already his, but of course it would be nice to get to know each other a little better. He cast his right arm over the back of the chair.

  ‘Why did you apply for this job?’ she asked.

  He held his chin between his thumb and forefinger. He usually did this when he wanted to demonstrate that he was thinking. He was naturally always thinking, it was mainly a gesture to show that he was considering her questions with the utmost seriousness.

  ‘I applied for this job because I know that people look up to me,’ he said. ‘They ask me for advice. “How can I solve this problem? How can I get my life going in the right direction?” So I in practice already work with these cases. People put their lives in my hands. It’s natural for me to want to do this full time. Working for the social services is what I’m supposed to do.’

  ‘In connection with what do people ask you for advice?’

  ‘Oof, when do they not? It can be everything from old friends to… well, everything really.’

  ‘For example?’ Gomez looked challengingly at Sebastian.

  He wrinkled his brow. Then he leaned forward and shifted to his therapeutic voice. Calm, tolerant, educational.

  ‘Now, Maria, I get the feeling that you have a slightly confrontational tone. This is something you should look at working on.’

  ‘There’s a lot I need to work on,’ said Go
mez. ‘What would you say that you are working on yourself?’

  It was a calm and objective question, not an attempt at provocation. It was a question he had never had before. What should he answer to that? There must be something he could come up with. He must have some weakness, and it would seem a touch arrogant to not have any answer. He looked around himself, as if to get ideas. The clock on the wall caught his eye.

  ‘I have a habit of always being way too early,’ he said.

  ‘Too early?’

  ‘Yes. For meetings, the bus stop, all sorts.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like a negative quality.’

  ‘It is though,’ said Sebastian. ‘If only you knew how many hours of my life I have wasted on sitting and waiting.’

  ‘Did you have to wait for me?’

  Sebastian nodded. ‘Yes. But that wasn’t in and of itself to do with my being early. You were actually a little late.’

  He tapped on his wrist, where there wasn’t a watch.

  ‘It was another thing which I had thought of bringing up, how important it is that we be on time here in the workplace.’

  Gomez looked incredulously at Sebastian.

  ‘But,’ he said and put his hand up in a gesture of peace, ‘I know how it can be. It’s stressful, there is a lot to pull together. Nobody is one hundred percent perfect. That’s me in a nutshell: exacting but generous.’ He smiled gently.

  ‘Really… really generous of you. Yep and I have just a few more questions on my document here,’ said Gomez indifferently and rustled the paper. She read aloud from it. ‘What can you bring that will contribute in this workplace?’ She looked up. ‘You’ve already gone a bit into this already, but…’

  ‘Maria,’ said Sebastian. ‘Now you’re thinking that I would add something special and that’s very kind of you, I appreciate it. But first and foremost I want to make it clear that I’m a completely normal person.’

  Sebastian waited for Gomez’ reaction. She would of course object strongly to this description. Sebastian Lund, a completely normal person? She was speechless, it was understandable, she couldn’t get a word out. Sebastian knew what she was thinking. How could a person of such ability be so humble? How could he see himself as one of us? Others with such an intellect would lay it on thick, they would explain in detail what they had to contribute, they would show off their strengths. Not he. He emphasised his humanity. Maybe she was moved, maybe lovestruck, yes, probably lovestruck. She was silent for a long time and Sebastian realised that she was struggling to express herself under these circumstances. That was why she had been a bit difficult a moment ago, because she was fighting against her feelings for him. It was shameful, she was married and she didn’t even know him. But now she couldn’t hold them back any longer. His humility, his humanity had nudged her over the edge, into love’s ardour.

  ‘You don’t need to say anything,’ he said.

  ‘No. I don’t think I do,’ she said. Sebastian shook his head. ‘Your expression tells me more than enough.’

  Gomez started to laugh. The laughter spread through her whole body, her shoulders started shaking. She reached out for a tissue and blew her nose. ‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Excuse me.’

  A chill ran down Sebastian’s spine. She was full of feelings for him and he had given her false hopes. She’d been knocked over by the high. ‘Your expression says more than enough.’ Why was he forced to say that? Was this not a sign that he knew about her feelings, acknowledged them, reciprocated them? No, no, no! How could he be simultaneously so intelligent and so stupid! ‘Your expression says more than enough.’ No, oh no!

  ‘I think I need to be clear with you,’ said Sebastian.

  Gomez wiped away a tear. ‘Really?’

  ‘This here,’ he said and pointed quickly at her, at himself, at her, at himself. ‘This here, will only ever be professional. Are you ok with that? I may as well be upfront with it now. I am aware of the effect I have on women. If it’s any comfort, you are definitely not alone. And it will pass, even if it doesn’t feel like that now.’

  The whole of Gomez’ upper body was now shaking. She buried her face in the tissue. She seemed to hardly be able to breathe. Poor her! To think that he couldn’t even restrain his charm for one hour! How he wished to be mediocre sometimes. She was clearly completely done in.

  ‘Listen…’ he said and reached a hand out to her. She waved it away, couldn’t meet his eye, looked down at the floor, focused hard in order to be able to look up at him with a neutral expression. She clamped her lips closed, pulled herself together and looked up.

  ‘It will work itself out,’ she said. ‘I’m sure of it.’

  Sebastian tilted his head to one side. ‘Sure?’

  Gomez buried her head in her hands again, nodding at the same time. She squeaked out a pitiful ‘yep’ between convulsions. ‘Oh,’ she said finally. ‘Jeez, Sebastian, you really are something else.’

  Was she going to be ok? He thought that it seemed so, in spite of everything. When Gomez had come to her senses he decided it was best to go back to the salary, to the purely bureaucratic details.

  ‘What are we talking in terms of compensation?’ he said.

  Gomez smiled. She repeated his words. ‘What are we talking in terms of compensation?’ She laughed again but quickly regained control. ‘The base salary is twenty-seven thousand kronor a month.’

  Now it was Sebastian who smiled and shook his head. Would he have to rent out his abilities for twenty-seven thousand? Sebastian Lund, possibly Sweden’s smartest person, would he have to slave away for such a meagre income? If he didn’t know that Gomez was a kind hearted person, if he didn’t know that she was his admirer, he would have taken it as an insult. He had, however, a fantastic bargaining position. They wanted him, desperately wanted to have him, so he could just as well shoot for the moon. He really had not applied for the job in order to make lots of money. If money had been his driver, he could easily have found something which would have paid him plenty. He’d previously toyed with the idea of working in the world of finance, or as an innovator in the field of industry. There he would have had a bright future, everyone said so and many actually expected that it was in that world that he would carry out his life’s work. But geniuses tread their own paths. It was people he should be working with, end of story. Head and heart, that was Sebastian Lund. But twenty-seven thousand, no, there had to be a limit.

  ‘Then I say thirty-nine thousand,’ said Sebastian. He looked fixedly at Gomez.

  ‘Or why not fifty?’ said Gomez. ‘And forty days’ holiday. And free food.’

  Sebastian appreciated this. Gomez was in fact willing to go way beyond his expectations. Fifty thousand. It was more than he had been able to imagine. And they say that compassion doesn’t pay. The things he could achieve at this place! There was no reason to hesitate.

  ‘Done!’ he said and reached out his hand.

  He stood up, she stood up. Gomez took his outstretched hand. She shook it long and firmly. Her face lit up.

  ‘Sebastian Lund,’ she said. ‘This has been very, very interesting.’

  Close to city centre

  It was when an invitation to a high school reunion dropped into the letterbox that the whole thing began. Could it really be right that it was ten years since Elin had thrown her student cap into the air outside Brinell College in Nässjö? Ten years? Ten? She was no longer young and it was now that this irrefutable truth hit her for the first time, at the age of twenty-nine. For her whole life, her identity had been based on her youth. She had considered older people to be a sub-species of the human race, they were separated by an unbridgeable biological abyss. It was this abyss that she was now staring down into and it was first now that she really grasped that she too participated in life on the same conditions as the rest of humanity – that she was the same genus as the forty year-olds, fifty year-olds, sixty year-olds, seventy year-olds and so on until death. All thanks to a meaningless little invitation to a class re
union.

  She saw decades rush by. How much quicker had the last decade gone compared with the one prior? There was a whole life between nine and nineteen – distant memories of school desks, breaktimes, endless summer holidays – a whole age from primary school to sixth form. Everything that had happened since, the last ten years, was all too clear in the memory to give a feeling of distance. Graduation, driving license, a week in Thailand, a few Christmases and boom – school reunion. How quickly would the next decade go? And the decade after that? She was basically already fifty.

  So much she hadn’t kept up with and so much she would never keep up with, so many choices. Every door opened implied a thousand doors closed. Leaving her youth behind was for her like leaving a part of her personality behind, a highly valued quality, just as serious as for a singer to forever abandon their voice. She had unwittingly invested her whole soul in her youth, as if it would be eternal. But now she saw clearly: never again would she be promising at anything. It was now too late to do anything with all the undeveloped talents she once believed herself to have. All her undertakings from this point onwards would have an air of amateurism.

  But it was maybe not aging itself which frightened her, it was more aging without having achieved anything, to be suddenly caught out by old age while she was preparing to start living. And everyone would see what a failure she was. Bloody school reunion!

  Although when she thought about it, the source of her failure was not to do with her employment. She had a good job, was purchasing manager at an export company and earned a decent wage. It was to do with where she lived.

  In Nässjö.

  All the others, all the others had moved away. Fine, Erik Jonsson was still here too, but he didn’t really count. Nobody ever thought much about him, he didn’t really exist. He used the wide bat when he played rounders and listened to country music. But her, she was even popular once upon a time, definitely in the top ten when it came to looks and charm and talent and… damn it! Ten years and she was still here. There was something about that which signalled that you’d given up, that you’d settled, accepted your fate. She had four months until the reunion. By then, she needed to have moved away from Nässjö, it was as simple as that.

 

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