Pieces of You

by J F Elferdink

  Zachri stepped in for the final statement.

  “I will only repeat Salaan’s earlier question: If you could have seen the future, would you have done more to improve the living conditions of the families of these pirates?”

  Mark’s answer was to nod his head vigorously, indicating ‘Yes’.

  ***

  Between one rapid heartbeat and the next, the images of Zachri, Salaan and the Judge flickered and were gone. The sound of a phone ringing forced Mark back into the past of his third journey.

  “What the he…? How could they expect that from us?”

  Head turned toward the wall, Mark was working very hard to subdue the urge to yell out a string of curses. He didn’t want anyone to know how far out of control he felt at that moment.

  ‘How I wish the decision was mine alone. If only I could take Martin’s place!’ he thought, clenching his jaw as though to lock the language in.

  Breathing deeply, he dialed his assistant and asked her to schedule a meeting for 7:30 the next morning.

  Sleep was out of the question. Suddenly, Mark felt an intense need for comfort but where could he get help? He knew it was imperative to have his wits about him during the meeting. The aftermath of an alcoholic stupor was out of the question. A phone call to his ex-wife produced only the predictable canned message.

  Why had she left him? Why had he not been enough for her? Maybe showing a softer side would have met her female need for that kind of attention. But other women had told him he could be sensitive. Anyway, he was who he was.

  The one thing he knew for certain was that the agony of rejection was not too high a price to pay for his son, and the one good thing his ex-wife had done was to give him full custody. Mark’s thoughts returned to Martin.

  ‘When he was little and I had been away from him, even for ten or twelve hours at work, my heart almost burst with anticipation whenever I drove into our driveway, knowing he was inside,. When he was away, visiting his mother, he would sometimes call to tell me what they were doing. He always said he missed me.’

  ‘Being a father, even with its heartaches and disappointments, is what living is about.’

  When Mark had been obliged to cancel a date or postpone a deadline in order to comply with a last minute request from his son, he had only ever been annoyed for a few seconds.

  That look he reserved for his dad, the sound of Martin’s maturing voice on the other end of the line, the comforting touch of his son’s hand on his shoulder when he knew Mark was under pressure; these were the memories that made sacrifice an entirely inadequate word.

  He hoped that someday that closeness would be granted to him in a relationship with a woman, but Mark’s female friends had been secondary—Martin always came first.

  Thinking about his son held hostage by pirates, he did his best to make contact with the God of his Sunday school days.

  ‘I beg you for Martin’s life. I promise to renounce all the advantages I’ve exploited as my right. Show me how to be more just and more generous.’

  ***

  The next morning, all eighteen officers were seated at the conference table a full twenty minutes before the unusually early hour at which they had been asked to attend.

  The banter typical of their regular meetings was conspicuously absent.

  “This meeting has been called because we have received a ransom demand from the pirates. They want $1.9 million and we’ve been given twenty-four hours to respond.”

  Mark’s opening remarks were made in as matter-of-fact a tone as he could muster.

  “I promised you we would make this decision together. We will do what our bylaws require regarding the making of decisions affecting the whole company.

  “We will abide by what at least two-thirds of us agree is right for our company, our industry and our humanity.”

  Each individual and small group presented an evaluation. It soon became apparent that everyone present was in agreement: no price was too high to save lives.

  It was also clear that almost half of the group did not approve of the idea that this criminal act might go unpunished, and the other half only wanted to engage in a mission that might secure their company against future attacks.

  One of the more youthful speakers spoke from the latter perspective.

  “Revenge rarely ends mistreatment. It’s more likely to have the opposite effect.”

  Lucas, a white-haired Frenchman, responded.

  “Okay, what do you propose we do; pay their ransom request then wait patiently for the pirates to be stricken with remorse and return whatever is left of our money?”

  His rhetorical question set off a current of agitation. As the discussion streamed around the room, Mark found his mind wandering to the bizarre sight of a young Somali boy listening intently to a man who was leaning casually on a weapon as he spoke. Mark could even pick out some of the words.

  ‘There was a time when it was a sad thing to fight… We have no more brothers, only enemies who seize and kill…’

  He couldn’t remember where he had seen the boy’s picture, in a news article maybe, but the words were so clear that the man might have been uttering them aloud in the very room where Mark sat looking fatigued and stressed. Looking around, trying to be sure the voice was truly only in his head, Mark realized there was a pause in the discussion and everyone was looking at him. Picking up on the last few words spoken, Mark knew it was time for the vote.

  “Let’s make this a confidential process so no one feels pressured to vote other than as his or her conscience dictates.

  “All those who believe we should pay the full ransom, just write ‘yes’ on a piece of paper.

  “All those who believe no ransom should be paid at all, write ‘no’ and all those who believe a lesser amount should be negotiated with the pirates, write ‘negotiate’. After collecting the papers, we’ll take a break while two volunteers help me tally the votes.”

  As each person filed back into the conference room, twenty minutes later, Mark met them at the door and shook all eighteen right hands, making no effort to hide the tears that flowed freely down his cheeks. Once all were seated, Gerald, one of the volunteers, shared the results: 24 of 24 were ‘yes’ votes.

  Steve, as second-in-command, spoke up, giving Mark time to regain control.

  “We have shown today that we are a community and what threatens any one of us, threatens us all. The whole amount of the ransom, the $1.9 million will be wired from our investment fund to the pirates’ bank account within twenty-four hours. I’m sure Mark agrees that a celebration will be in order as soon as the rest of the team is with us again.”

  Mark nodded his agreement as he took the podium.

  “Sparing the lives of my son and the other twenty-seven crew members is the honorable thing to do. I will be eternally grateful for your decision. Even though we cannot expect to recover our ransom, we must discover how to project the image of the strong man if we are to regain our corporate spirit.

  “It is said that ‘when a strong man, fully armed, guards his own palace, his goods are in peace, but when one stronger than he assails him and overcomes him, he takes away his armor in which he trusted...’

  “I know some of you believe there is a deeper spiritual meaning to it but, just for a moment, let’s take it at face value and see if there is a lesson here for us.

  “These pirates are trying to make us believe that they are ‘the strong man’, the warriors who easily overcome our ocean-going vessels and divide the spoils with their accomplices.

  “What if we chose to believe they could be stopped? How are we to demonstrate our power? Increasing naval patrols in the region has had no discernible impact.”

  “Actually it has.”

  This refutation came from Tomas, one of the more introverted members of the team.

  “Patrolling the seas seems to have been taken as a challenge, resulting in more—not fewer—acts of piracy. It may be that their boldness comes from having littl
e to lose. Where is the weapon powerful enough to force them to give up their best hope of becoming rich?”

  Ethel, a diminutive Chinese woman with amazing vocal projection was quick to declare her point of view.

  “These people, though cunning and vicious, are not animals that we can eradicate. We can’t even discover their hiding places. I think you gave us a strong clue to the answer, Tomas. What can we offer them that would make acts of piracy seem absurd?”

  “Why would we want to give anything to a band of bandits who obliterate ships and their crews and call it justice?”

  The handsome, rugged-looking author of this emotional outburst, George, gestured as though, left to his own devices, he would relish an opportunity to take out several pirates, the blade of his sword flashing in the Somali sunlight.

  Mark spoke up next.

  “What you are suggesting could entirely alter our corporate culture. Let’s reflect on this for a few more days and meet again next week. Right now, I have a phone call to make.”

  ***

  Over the next few days, the team members researched and argued their various positions before reconvening a week later without their leader.

  Mark was on a cruise ship, taking the long way home after being reunited with his son. To rejoice was his major goal during these precious days. His employees had proven themselves capable of making excellent decisions in the past and he was confident they would do the same this time.

  Steve, who had agreed to chair the meeting in Mark’s absence, started with a report on the successful exchange of the ransom payment for their tanker and her entire crew. He thanked everyone for their support and prayers before continuing.

  “Today we are tasked with creating a shortlist of options for responding to potential future occurrences of the most difficult situation this company has experienced in its 34-year history.

  “We will gauge our decision by its potential to make our shipments more secure. “

  Steve looked around the room.

  “Let’s start our discussion by dividing into six small groups to brainstorm this question: What would we do if we’d had a two-year advance warning instead of an actual occurrence?”

  Steve paused to allow everyone to finish capturing the question, some in writing and others on electronic devices, before he issued a final instruction.

  ”By lunch time each group should be prepared to suggest at least one action.”

  The noise level in the room suddenly increased by several decibels and during the lunch break six ideas were posited.

  The first group thought that the company should use its influence to push for a broadening of the international legal framework for dealing with criminal activity on the high seas.

  The second group’s spokesman announced that they were in favor of demanding action from the U.N. and national governments against the ongoing ravage of Somali marine resources by predatory fishing practices and dumping of hazardous wastes.

  The next group suggested that improving surveillance of Somalia’s territorial waters and expanding the sharing of information between shipping companies was the way to go.

  The fourth speaker’s group suggested the provision of help with the development of employment opportunities for Somalis in fields where they could use their skills with minimal additional training. They also thought that hiring Somalis to work aboard the tankers might be a good move.

  The penultimate spokesman, in a rather long-winded fashion, conveyed the suggestion that it might be a good idea to assist Somali business people in accessing micro-loan funds, possibly even developing a fund especially for that purpose, and to help them access trade opportunities.

  The sixth and final spokesman was brief and to the point in his presentation of his group’s idea. They thought the company should tap into an existing electronic network for connecting impoverished people with aid organizations and resources.

  ***

  Three years later, Mark would add a final report to that file.

  ‘By late that evening the team had produced a strategy paper that incorporated all but the first and last suggestions.

  As far as we knew, the plan had no precedent in our industry. It was an earnest effort to act justly, not just an act of revenge. Unfortunately, it did not achieve our goal.

  Another of our vessels was attacked 30 months later, in spite of the fact that our networking seemed to have been producing such positive changes.

  There had been a measurable reduction in poverty among the coastal villages of Puntland, matched by fewer acts of piracy in that region. With the second act of piracy, the spirit just seemed to go out of our employees and the project soon collapsed. ‘

  25

  TURNING POINT

  The year following the collapse of the project that had been intended to increase the security of their ocean-going vessels, the company had transferred Steve to New York City to oversee their wealth management services.

  He and Mark had lost touch but here he was, on a Friday night, sitting in the bedside chair usually occupied by Martin. Steve had been advised by the nurses to talk to Mark as though he were fully alert.

  “Hey, man, there’s so much we need to catch up on, so much I need to say to you. I was allowed to come on one of the corporate jets, but I have to be back in the office Monday morning. Your company needs you back. We all miss you!” He couldn’t say any more, just took one of Mark’s hands in both of his own and bawled like a baby.

  As the night stretched on, Steve thought about the last major project they had shared. Even though he was quite certain that Mark didn’t know he was there, Steve began to reminisce aloud.

  “Once you coaxed our team into defining how they could make a difference, nothing would stop them. Their diligence and persuasiveness harvested contributions from companies and non-profits in dozens of countries.

  “You remember how proud we were of the revolving loan fund that you and I got up and running in only six months? Our team quickly found a model we could almost wholly imitate—the Self-Employed Women’s Association in India. We even used their trade union concept to help our borrowers serve each other.

  “Mark, I wonder if you’re aware that the money collected for the loan fund is still circulating. Very little of it has been used fraudulently, and very few borrowers defaulted.

  “That’s a tribute to the simple, sensible guidelines our team built into the system. Some of our people turned out to be excellent mentors and trainers.

  “Remember Gerald, the guy who laid the groundwork with his definitions for restorative and retributive justice and for revenge? He runs a training company now for factory employees who show signs of an entrepreneurial spirit and, from what I hear, doing it pretty successfully.”

  Steve was gazing into the middle distance as he spoke, knowing he would be unable to keep up the pretense of a two-sided conversation if faced with Mark’s blank features.

  Just then, Franz, Mark’s Geneva neighbor, came into the room. After the introductions, Franz took a seat on the other side of Mark’s bed. Steve explained what the nurses had advised and how uncomfortable it felt to converse with his friend, not knowing if anything was getting through.

  Franz responded, “Why don’t you just talk to me about those times you and Mark shared? I’ve heard a few of his stories. I’d like to know more.”

  “Okay, Franz, I’d be happy to. It was a good time for Mark and me and a highly successful period for our company. Strange, because the whole team was focused on making the plan work…almost more than making money.”

  “You know, Steve, I have a feeling that Mark hears you. You may just have a companion on your walk down memory lane.” Go ahead. Tell us more.”

  “Talking about this reminds me of some of the Somali entrepreneurs we met when we were there as consultants.

  “I remember the young man who had been a pirate or at least a disciple of a group of pirates. I’ll never forget the look on his face.

  “Abdi, I
think his name was. The stunned look when he and his partners first spied us walking down to the water’s edge with our slacks rolled up to our knees and carrying leather portfolios and a laptop. It was easy to see they were choking on laughter, not to appear blatantly disrespectful.

  “I always wondered why Abdi became Mark’s shadow from the get-go. It was almost as if he thought he’d found his long-lost uncle or something, even though he told us his family had been wiped out years before.“

  Franz interjected, “Mark does have a way of attracting people to him, especially young people. Almost every time I came over, Martin’s friends would be almost overflowing their den. I would have to pry Mark away from them to get him to hike with me.”

  Steve flashed a quick smile and resumed his story.

  “Anyway, you’ll recall that this young man and his friends proudly showed us the two or three rather run-down boats they had stripped and refinished. The former owners, probably pirates, had obviously gauged them too decrepit for their purposes.

  “Those young men really had done a nice job of making the boats seaworthy. Just as well, since they persuaded us to take a ride.

  “Good old Mark flaunted unflinching fearlessness while I was white-knuckled all the way. In fact, I think I became a praying man that day.

  “They created a fishing co-operative around those boats and, just a few weeks later, our young clients led us through an idle cold storage facility abandoned years earlier. “

  Steve turned to Mark, seeming to forget that Franz was in the room.

  “Remember the wall plaque with the name of a Danish NGO-business partnership on it? That was another scary adventure, for you too, this time.

  “I’ll never forget how we both just about had heart attacks when the boys shone flashlights into the corners and awakened the monsters—I mean the reptiles. Those guys thought nothing of sharing space with crawly creatures but then their office was not quite as airtight as ours.