Then as often happened during special times like this Wilson had an epiphany. He realized that the dreams truly were not nightmares or things to be feared; they were there to help him learn. He had a brief image of training videos that he watched at work. Yes, like training videos, these dreams were meant to teach him, to orient him into a new phase of his life, help him to transition to a new level. He was beginning to have some sort of awakening, and it made him feel very good inside.
Wilson understood that this phone, this ‘relic’ could be used to benefit him greatly. If he learned not to fear it but to use it, he realized that could indeed become a very wealthy and powerful man. Suddenly Wilson felt as if he had been filled with knowledge, as if he had been transformed into a new Charles Wilson, a more powerful Charles Wilson, and a Charles Wilson that could do anything he chose. He was amazed at how his confidence had grown with the realization that he now had a fantastic power that he could use however he wished. He was not just the keeper of the phone; he was the master of the phone.
Wilson stepped out of that shower a changed man. As the steam from his shower dissipated though the open bathroom door, Charles Wilson took another look at himself in the mirror and decided that not only had he not aged during the night but he looked better and stronger than ever. He felt like he could take on the world and that was exactly what he planned to do, and woe be to any man who tried to get in his way.
Chapter 16
At 8:50 am Charles Wilson arrived at the offices of Harcourt and Washington, for one of the most important meetings of his career. The building, which housed the firm, soared over fifty stories into the morning sky, a massive structure of brick, chrome and glass; prime real estate for only the most influential and prosperous of companies.
Interestingly, this morning Wilson did not feel any negative effects from his previous evening’s ordeal, nor was he nervous or anxious about this final meeting to sign his contract paperwork. If the old Charles Wilson had been a self-assured hard-nosed businessman, this new Charles Wilson was that to the tenth power. He was a man of complete confidence, a man in charge; he was the man that made things happen.
The cell phone that had terrified him so much the previous night, now was sitting comfortably in the inside pocket of his suit jacket positioned directly over his heart. Having the phone with its unearthly pulse so close to his this vital life-giving organ, now made him feel quite good, made him feel like nothing could go wrong. From time to time, the phone almost seemed to squirm against his chest, as if attempting to crawl closer to him, crawl into him. Yesterday, such a sensation would have made Wilson cringe with disgust. However, this motion no longer bothered Wilson in the least; it now made him feel content to know that the phone, the sacred relic was close by.
Wilson noticed a newspaper stand on the corner as he approached the building. A headline screamed the question, ‘Divine Retribution?’ in bold print across the front page. Wilson knew that this would most certainly be a story about the death of Randal Lee Forester outside of the Yuengsville courthouse late last evening. He paid little attention to the headline and had no need to read the story, because he created the story. In fact, he was the story. It was simply that no one else in the world knew about his involvement, or ever would, which was just fine with him. This made Wilson laugh to himself. That disgusting slime ball Forester was probably just beginning to sample just a few of the tortures that Hell had to offer him and which he would be experiencing for eternity. Wilson wished there was a way for the phone to show him how Forester was suffering. Someday he would have to try to figure out if that would be possible.
For now, Wilson decided to put his personal pleasure aside and focus on the events at hand. During the past year, he had been negotiating a deal, more like a mega-deal, with R. John Showalter, the Executive Vice President of H & W. This multi-million dollar deal once signed would contract Wilson’s company to design and implement a new data management system for every one of H & W’s fifty-seven worldwide locations.
Showalter was third man from the top at Harcourt and Washington, with Johnson P. Harcourt being the top man and Samuel F. Washington being the second from the top. Both top men were sons of the original founders of the company. Even after two solid and profitable years with the company, Showalter was still considered somewhat of an outsider by the two leaders, his not being a family member. And, as is often typical with family run companies and partnerships, Showalter had reached the highest position a non-family member could possibly reach at H & W. Although he felt secure in that position, he was aware that Johnson P. Harcourt’s oldest son Johnson P Harcourt III, was a freshman in college and someday would be coming on board, in a created top position, essentially dropping Showalter down a notch on the totem pole to fourth from the top. Wilson suspected that this fact did not sit very well with Showalter and perhaps would be the reason that someday soon John might leave H & W. Charles wanted to be sure that his managed to squeeze all of the deals out of Showalter long before that occurred.
Wilson knew that since the deal he was working with Showalter would total in the millions, his own personal commission would be so large that it might be considered obscene. Yes, he would be sitting pretty, not to mention the promotion and salary bump that would surly follow. Wilson had already been planning how he would spend all of the money. In fact, he had already spent a large portion of his pending commission on a new car, a big screen television and surround sound setup. Since he and his wife had never had and children he was assured that waiting in his future would be a good number of vacations to exotic locations as well.
Wilson approached the security desk in the lobby of the building to announce that he was there for a nine o’clock meeting with Mr. Showalter in the Harcourt and Washington offices. Wilson had gone through this required ritual many times in the past year and actually knew most of the security guards by name.
“Morning Jim,” Wilson said cheerfully, “I am heading up to H & W to finalize this deal I have been working on with them. “
“That’s great news Mr. Wil..” the guard said, stopping in mid sentence. Wilson saw that the guard staring at him with a horrified expression as if he had seen the Satan himself. The guard blinked once as if trying to refocus his vision, then regained his composure before his face flushed red with embarrassment. “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Wilson, must be the lighting in here. It made you look different somehow, I though I saw somethin… I mean someone else.”
Wilson wondered what exactly it was that the man had seen. Was there something about his physical appearance that had changed? Charles knew that he had forever changed on the inside; but perhaps there was something about him people saw differently on the outside as well. He did not know if that would be a good thing or not, judging by the horrified expression the guard had shown, perhaps it was not a good thing at all.
Had he been able to see what the guard had seen, he would have understood the reason for the man’s terror. The guard had looked up expecting to see the genial face of Charles Wilson and saw much more than he bargained for. It was as if Wilson’s outer pleasant face was some type of clear transparent mask with Charles’ face painted upon it. But, just below the clear mask was another face, ancient, wretched and horrible swirling just under the surface of his skin. To the guard it appeared as if the face were comprised of worms and maggots all moving over, under and around each other in a cacophony of motion, all trying equally to burst out and bore their way to the surface. Then, just as quickly the image faded and Wilson’s face had returned to normal, causing great trepidation and embarrassment for the man.
Wanting to put it all behind him, the security guard clumsily handed Wilson his access badge, asked him to sign into the guest book then directed him to take the appropriate elevator that would take him straight to the executive offices of H and W on the 45th floor of the building. Wilson noticed that the man never looked directly at his face again during the exchange, as if doing so, the man would risk seeing whatever it w
as he saw earlier that terrified him. As the elevator doors closed Wilson saw the guard staring at him peculiarly as the man picked up the phone to announce Wilson’s arrival to Showalter’s secretary.
Wilson left the elevator on the 45th floor heading directly to the receptionist’s desk. “Good morning Jennifer.” Wilson said cheerfully, having become equally familiar with the woman during the past year as well. She did not offer her usual smile or offer any other pleasantries; instead, she simply gave a curt “’Morning. Mr. Wilson.” As with Jim the security guard, Jennifer chose not to look directly at him and continued with strange detachment, “Mr. Showalter is waiting in his office and would like to see you immediately.”
Wilson thought this was odd as well, since Jennifer was generally very friendly and happy to see him. However, today her attitude toward him was very strange in deed. He wondered if Jim the security guard had called her and said something about the ‘difference’ he had seen in Wilson, warning her not to look directly at him. Perhaps Charles was simply being paranoid. Or, maybe Jennifer had some sort of sixth sense, a women’s intuition, and somehow tuned into the difference in Wilson, sensing his vibrations and not liking what she felt. He did not know what her problem was, nor did he really care. He was here to close a deal and after today, he suspected his visits to H & W would be much less frequent. He proceeded in to see his client as Jennifer had instructed.
As Wilson entered Showalter’s office, he instantly felt that something was not right. Showalter approached him shaking his hand half-heartedly and couldn’t seem to make eye contact with him either. But Wilson suspected his lack of eye contact was for a completely different reason that the guard’s and receptionist’s. Wilson sensed that Showalter was averting his eyes because the man was about to deliver some very bad news to him.
“I tried to call you several times yesterday afternoon but your cell constantly went to voicemail,” Showalter said in an annoying, frustrated tone, still opting not to make eye contact with Wilson.
Wilson attempted to explain, “Well John, I am quite embarrassed to say that in my haste to catch my plane yesterday, I left my business cell at home. I have never done anything like that before and I honestly don’t understand how it could have happened. I cannot believe I did such a stupid thing and I am terribly sorry about that.”
“Well, that was extremely unfortunate.” Showalter continued in his icy tone. “It was critical that I reach you yesterday. As I have mentioned in the past, when you deal with Harcourt and Washington, you need to be available twenty-four seven.”
Wilson apologized again, frustrated and becoming angry that he, with is new found amazing powers still had to lower himself to groveling to such a lowly human, “As I said, John, this was an accident; a one-time thing. I am never without my cell phone. I have always been available to you and your company any time and any place, including when I was on vacation, as you may recall.”
Showalter interrupted Wilson, “So you have told me, Charles. And I will admit that this has been the case all throughout this decision making process, but the fact remains that you were not available yesterday late in the day when we needed to speak to you; and as you should very well know, in business, timing is everything.”
Wilson was becoming angrier by the minute. Who did this Showalter, think he was, treating him like a child. If this man knew the power that Charles had within his grasp, he would be on his knees begging for his life. Still choosing to play the role of businessman, Charles tempered his comments somewhat saying, “I don’t understand what you are inferring John, surely one little misplaced cell phone at this late date in our negotiations, cannot be that critical.” Wilson inquired.
“Normally that would be the case,” Showalter continued, “Normally, whatever we had to discuss could have waited until this morning, but were are down to the wire on this, Charles. Remember I am supposed to commit H & W to a multimillion-dollar deal with your company. I would think that as the main representative of Edmondson Systems, you would have gone out of your way to make yourself available. And more importantly, Mr. Harcourt and Mr. Watson would have thought so as well.”
Chapter 17
Wilson instantly understood that now they were getting to the main crux of this little cat and mouse game, that being Johnson P. Harcourt, himself. Wilson began to comprehend that his ‘done deal’ might have just taken a bad turn, with the main man in the corporation now involved. Wilson had very little use for J. P. Harcourt, feeling that the man had grown up privileged; born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Charles felt that Harcourt the company was given to J. P. without his having to lift a finger to work for it. As a result, Wilson thought the man was as dumber than a stump, to put it not so politely. He knew that John Showalter was the real brains of the corporation and that J. P. Harcourt and Samuel Wilson were mere figureheads; spoiled rich boys, the both of them.
However, one fact remained the same; that was, that their names were on the company letterhead and they paid the salaries, including Showalter’s. Moreover, that meant that Wilson had to walk a fine line in these negotiations, at least until he could get a feel for the situation. He was fully aware that Showalter would only stick his neck out so far for him.
Wilson asked curiously, “Mr. Harcourt? I am surprised to hear that he would want to be involved in these discussions, especially at this late stage in the process. I was of the impression that this was your project and that you were the final decision maker on it. I don’t understand why the busy president of a global company such as H & W would want to take the time to put his stamp on this.”
Showalter continued his explaination, “Traditionally he would not do so. He generally hands this sort of project over to me and allows me make all the final decisions. However, as you are aware, this is an enormous venture, involving a great investment on our part and which affects literally every facility we own worldwide; not to mention the fact that the final implementation will take two years to complete. I suppose that Mr. Harcourt felt that he needed to be involved at this final hour, just to help him feel shall we say ‘warm and fuzzy’.”
“Charles, as I hope you are aware for the past year I have been talking your company up, and putting my name, not to mention my neck, on the line for you, Mr. Edmondson and Edmondson Systems. What you may not know is that Mr. Harcourt had some other companies in mind that he actually preferred to use.”
For some reason, that revelation caught Wilson completely by surprise. Up until that very moment, he had believed that Edmondson Systems was the only viable player in the game. Certainly, there were other competitors capable of doing the job, but none with the prestige and reputation that his company had, and none that had put so much time, energy and work into making the deal a reality as he had done. Perhaps he had been too sure, too confident all along, not taking into account the political climate surrounding the project. He should have realized that ‘rich boy’ Harcourt would have one of his old cronies waiting in the wings to jump in at the final hour and steal his lunch.
Showalter continued, “It became an extremely politically sensitive situation around here. The smart thing for me to have done was to just go along with Harcourt, sign the other company right away and leave you out in the cold. Nevertheless, I really believed that Edmondson Systems was the right fit for this project.
What you do not realize is that all during this time I have stuck to my convictions and told Harcourt that you were the right company for the job. That was a great professional risk on my part if things did not work out the way H & W wanted them to. Mr. Harcourt as much as said my job was on the line, if this project failed.”
“I truly appreciate that John.” Wilson said, genuinely grateful for what Showalter must have gone through, but still very concerned about what he, Charles, might have to do in order to win this project. He needed to come up with an alternate plan.
Wilson realized that although he appeared to have an ally in Showalter, the man had gone about as far as he chose to in o
rder to help support Wilson. And, from this point on it would take all of Wilson’s business sense and negotiating skills to keep the deal on the table; and he was certain, more than a little help from some powers not of this earth.
“So…” Showalter interrupted, “Yesterday I got a call from Mr. Harcourt telling me that he wanted to speak to you personally and had some last minute questions. I tried to argue with him and say that everything was fine, but he insisted; and since he is the one that signs my paycheck, I gave him your cell phone number. And of course he could not reach you.”
Charles wonder to himself, “And how strangely convenient was that?” The one time J. P. Harcourt needed urgently to speak to him was the one time that he did not happen to have his cell phone available. There were definitely some strange forces at odds around this deal and Charles was right in the thick of things. He began to formulate a plan, or at least what he hoped would become a plan that would offer a solution, albeit a ‘final solution’ to the situation.
“He tried many times to reach you, as did I before finally giving up.” Showalter said. “He even called your boss Mr. Edmondson, and ordered him to find a way to get in touch with you.”
Wilson almost laughed aloud at the thought of T. Martin Edmondson on the phone, ordered around by that idiot Harcourt. The old man must have been on the verge of an anuerism. The entire situation was beginning to amuse Wilson. With his new powerful legions of the damned, he found that he could look at things from a completely different perspective. He was above worrying about ridiculous human drivel and petty political stupidity. In his pocket he had the ability to manipulate and control destiny.
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