The Story of Charlie Mullins
Page 1
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Cover
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Back cover
The Story of Charlie Mullins
The Man in the Middle
by
Jim Wygand
CCB Publishing
British Columbia, Canada
The Story of Charlie Mullins: The Man in the Middle
Copyright ©2012 by Jim Wygand
ISBN-13 978-1-927360-90-3
First Edition
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Wygand, Jim, 1942-
The story of Charlie Mullins : the man in the middle
[electronic resource] / written by Jim Wygand – 1st ed.
ISBN 978-1-927360-90-3
Also available in print format.
I. Title.
PS3623.Y43S86 2010 813'.6 C2010-904141-0
Additional cataloguing data available from Library and Archives Canada
Original cover art design by Jinger Heaston: www.jingraphix.org
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the express written permission of the publisher.
Publisher:
CCB Publishing
British Columbia, Canada
www.ccbpublishing.com
To my granddaughters Rachael and Antonia, my sons and their wives, and my step-children, and especially to my own “Gina” (you know who you are!)
I love you all, deeply.
I
“Mullins! Don’t forget, I want those financial reports by Thursday!” Fred Perkins always barked his orders and everybody at the Shaw Corporation except Charlie Mullins lived in mortal fear of the terrible-tempered vice-president and treasurer.
“They’re already finished, Fred. You want ‘em now or shall I send them to your office?”
“I’ll send Laura around. I’ve got a meeting now.” Perkins snapped.
“OK Fred. As you wish.”
Perkins stalked off, his mood now even fouler than before. Charlie Mullins got him ruffled. He was the only one who dared to call Perkins by his first name. Everyone else at Shaw called him Mister Perkins and did so with trepidation. Every time Charlie used his first name, Perkins felt an adrenaline rush and he could almost feel the sharp rise in his stomach acid level. It was Perkins’ habit to always refer to subordinates by their last name and he always barked it. Charlie always seemed to be ready for him and his demands and always with what Perkins thought was a slight tone of mockery in his voice. He felt like every time he dealt with Charlie his power suffered an imperceptible reduction.
Fred Perkins was the quintessential sycophant. The irascible vice-president recognized only two kinds of people in the world – those below him and those above him. The former he bullied with his tirades and foul humor. The latter he treated with servile deference. Employees lived in mortal fear of Perkins’ tirades. He would berate, insult, humiliate, and reduce the unfortunate object of his wrath to a quivering mass. But Charlie Mullins never rattled. Because Charlie was not intimidated by Perkins the latter was always reluctant to bully him and that drove Perkins nuts. The minute Perkins would raise his voice, Charlie would simply say, “I can hear you Fred.” and Perkins would lower his voice to his normal bark.
Charlie leaned back in his chair and watched Perkins stomp away in the direction of his own office, even though he said he was going to a meeting. He smiled inwardly. He knew that he ruffled Perkins’ feathers and he enjoyed it but he knew that it was not Perkins who would pay the consequences. The bastard would take his anger out on his longsuffering personal assistant, Laura.
Charlie let Laura enter his thoughts for a moment. He liked and felt sorry for her. She was divorced and had a son in college. She couldn’t afford to leave the Shaw Corporation because there just were not that many jobs in South Jersey where she could earn the same salary. She did her best to placate Perkins but it seemed that the harder she tried, the nastier he got.
Charlie snapped out of his short daydream to see several of his colleagues and subordinates staring at him. They all marveled at the way he handled Perkins.
As Charlie looked around at his fellow workers they immediately started lowering their heads into their work. Later they would comment to each other about how, once again, Charlie Mullins had moved Fred Perkins one step closer to a stroke.
Charlie spun his chair to face the window and looked out across the Delaware River to Shoreville, his home town. If he squinted his eyes, he could see the outline of the houses where many of the workers of the Shaw Corporation lived. In spite of his executive job, Charlie still lived in Shoreville. He never moved across the river to Wilmington where most of the company’s management lived. He had been born in Shoreville, went to school there, and most of his friends lived there.
“Charlie?” his reverie was broken by Laura Metzer, Perkins’ personal assistant. When he spun around he noticed that her eyes were red and puffy. She was trying hard to hold back the tears.
“Hey Laura. You OK?”
“I’m fine Charlie. He’s a terror today. He just jumped down my throat because I had some pencils spread out on my desk. He told me I was sloppy and my desk looked like hell. Well, you know the routine.”
“Aw hell, I’m sorry Laura. I probably set him off by calling him ‘Fred’ again.”
Laura managed a wry smile. “He hates that, you know. He’ll never admit it, but he really hates it. You’re the only person in this whole department who doesn’t bow and scrape to him and it almost kills him. What’s your secret Charlie? If anybody else did what you do they’d be out of here before Personnel even had time to fill out a pink slip.”
Charlie smiled, more to himself than to Laura, “I dunno Laura. I guess it’s just because I have been with the company for 10 years and my father worked here for over 30. A lot of senior people here knew my father and liked him. Maybe Fred thinks I have some sort of leverage with someone above him. Then again, maybe I just have a sixth sense for knowing what he wants before he wants it.”
“Well whatever it is, Charlie Mullins, you sure keep him off balance. And I’m the one who pays for it.” She shrugged and then added, “Well, I guess it is just worth it to know that someone can stand up to him. He’s just so nasty to people.”
Charlie smiled again, this time at Laura. “I’m sorry for that, Laura. I really am. You know,
in spite of his attitude and the way he treats people, he is a pretty good professional.”
“Yeah, I know” Laura answered, “I just wish he could control himself a little more. Anyway, I guess you know I am here to pick up the financial reports.”
“Right here, Laura.” Charlie handed her the papers.
“Well, thanks for listening Charlie. I guess I better get back before he comes looking for me.”
“No sweat, Laura. Keep cool. By the way, how’s your son?”
“A mother’s pride Charlie! Straight A’s. He’s a good kid!”
“You don’t have to tell me that. He’s got a good mother. Hang in there Laura. Don’t let Fred grind you down.”
“Thanks, Charlie and thanks for asking about Billy.”
As Laura Metzer headed back down the hall to her desk Charlie thought to himself that Fred Perkins would probably love to fire him if only he could find a cause. Charlie was methodical and organized. He was always a step ahead of Perkins and it amused him that others thought he had some sort of sixth sense about what Perkins would demand next.
But Charlie knew that people like Perkins were not hard to figure out. They were bullies. He’d seen them in the Army, in college, and in corporations. The minute they thought you were intimidated they puffed up and started bellowing even louder. The more you quaked, the more they bullied. All you really had to do was relax and look them straight in the eye. When you did that, they usually lowered their voice and backed off.
Charlie remembered the one and only time that Perkins had lit into him. It had been shortly after Charlie had joined the company and the incident involved Perkins’ demand for some report. When Perkins began his tirade, Charlie relaxed his body and stared directly into Perkins’ eyes with a glare that told Perkins that there might be something cold and steely behind it, and that it might not be wise to try to find out. He said, “I can hear you, Fred.” By the time Perkins got his third word out of his mouth, he was speaking in his normal “bark”. Charlie gave Perkins a friendly smile which said “That’s better, Fred” and he replied in a calm and steady voice, “I’ll have that report for you by the end of the day, Fred.”
Perkins was perplexed. Charlie had not challenged his authority, just his authoritarianism. He acquiesced with his dignity intact and Perkins was not sure what to do, so he did nothing. But after that incident, he never again tried to bully Charlie and Charlie never gave him the opportunity to do so. It was a standoff. And Perkins hated standoffs. There was no room in his psyche for equals. His world was populated only by superiors and subordinates, the latter being treated with sadistic cruelty. Charlie was not his superior and he refused to accept the treatment Perkins reserved for subordinates. It made Perkins furious.
Charlie leaned into his work. He had a lot to do and he planned to go up to Philly over the weekend. He was not going to let his work back up and move into his personal time.
II
The only thing people in Shoreville thought strange about Charlie Mullins was that they never saw him around town on weekends except for a few hours on Saturday when he went to softball practice with his friends. It was a small town and everybody there either worked for the Shaw Corporation or one of its suppliers. A few people worked in the small chemical factories and oil refineries in the area, but Shaw was by far the largest employer in the small South Jersey town.
Charlie knew practically everyone in Shoreville and because he was a first assistant treasurer at Shaw and had lived there all his life, everyone knew him. The fact that he stayed in Shoreville after ascending the corporate ladder endeared him to the locals. And, of course, everyone had known his parents.
The Shaw Corporation sponsored bowling leagues, softball teams, theater groups, concerts and other cultural activities in Shoreville and during the week Charlie could be seen at most company-sponsored events. He bowled with his old high school buddies and played softball with company employees in the warm summer evenings. But, on weekends, Charlie Mullins was nowhere to be seen.
A lot of people in Shoreville thought it was the divorce. When Charlie came back from his tour in the Army, he resumed dating and then married his high-school sweetheart, Mary Jo Mannix. Like most marriages in Shoreville, it was what was expected: local boy returns, resumes romance with his old sweetheart, marries her. They eventually have kids, join the Little League, PTA, and so it goes.
However, Mary Jo had ambitions which she one day concluded she would not satisfy in her marriage to Charlie. She wanted to live in a high-mortgage neighborhood in Wilmington, not in Shoreville. Charlie was perfectly content to stay where he was comfortable and did not like the idea of living in some expensive digs around a bunch of people he did not know and really did not care about.
Early on in the marriage Mary Jo tried to get Charlie’s career on what she thought was the “right track”. She would tell Charlie that he was far too complacent and that he should be more concerned about his future at Shaw. She suggested that they consider selling their house and moving to a “better neighborhood”. She would point across the river to Wilmington and say, “There is where we have to live, Charlie. You’ll be around people who can help your career. We can get involved in community affairs and mix with the ‘right people’.”
Charlie endured her entreaties with patience but told her clearly, “Mary Jo, those people live the company day in and day out. I don’t want to live that way. I’m perfectly content right here in Shoreville where we are around friends. I don’t want to be going out for drinks, dinner, and theater with someone just because they can get me promoted.”
But Mary Jo was relentless and in the second year of their marriage she left Charlie to marry a lawyer in Wilmington. She crossed the Delaware to conquer her space with the “right people”. There were no children and Charlie was left with the mortgage.
Charlie was both surprised and not surprised. He was surprised and hurt that Mary Jo would have treated him that way and subjected him to public humiliation but he was not surprised that she left. Her ambition was just too great. Charlie always suspected that she would be vulnerable to some smooth character who would promise the world to Mary Jo. Her ambition would cloud her reason, and she would fall. She had no patience with Charlie’s calm approach to life. He was sure that she was in for a lot of disappointment in life but could not convince her. When Mary Jo got pregnant by her second husband, he left her high and dry. The last Charlie had heard of Mary Jo, she had moved somewhere “out west”.
Charlie endured the initial outpourings of sympathy from those in Shoreville who were indignant at Mary Jo’s behavior. He tolerated the avalanche of “serves-her-right” comments that surfaced when the word got out that Mary Jo had been left by her second husband. He was no longer angry at Mary Jo. In fact, he felt sorry for her. But he just shrugged his shoulders and smiled when others blasted away at her.
Then, stoically, he put up with all the attempts to get him married again. He took to leaving town on weekends to escape the numerous dinner invitations to meet the lone female guest that had been invited for his sake.
What began as weekend escapes soon turned into weekend forays as Charlie reaped the advantages of a social life outside Shoreville. He looked up some of his old friends from La Salle College in Philly. Sometimes he would head down to the casinos in Atlantic City, or spend a quiet weekend in Cape May. In all the places he went, he could relax and be away from people that he saw all week, at work, at the grocery store, at company-sponsored events, at church and so on. His professional life was public knowledge as was everyone else’s in Shoreville, but unlike his neighbors, his private life was absolutely private. He intended to keep it that way.
Charlie Mullins liked beautiful women. He liked intelligent women. And he certainly liked the creature comforts that money bought. But most of all Charlie Mullins liked power. And power to Charlie Mullins meant being in charge of your own life. His very private social life was a form of power in tiny Shoreville.
He o
nce commented to a friend, “You know, the first loss of power comes when you lose your privacy. When you join the Army, what’s the first thing they do to keep you under control? They take away your privacy. They put you in a barracks with 40 other guys. You have open closets and only a footlocker which an officer will open every week. Prisoners have no privacy so they have no power. Look at college students – put ‘em in a dorm, no privacy. Makes it easier to handle them. The same thing happens in companies. Take those office partitions for example. They never go all the way to the ceiling. No private office, no power. No private conversations, no power. Got it? Take my word for it, the first step in acquiring power is to make sure you have privacy.” Charlie never abandoned that view.
Consistent with his view regarding privacy and power, Charlie tried to make sure that folks in Shoreville knew nothing of his ambitions, personal views, and personal life. Even as a child he had always been known as a bit of a “loner”. He was a quiet, observant kid who took in everything around him. But if you asked anyone what Charlie Mullins thought, they would probably begin their answer by saying, “Well, I don’t really know, but I would guess that…..”
As to his “lost weekends”, a lot of people in Shoreville were quick to attribute them to grief, anger, and embarrassment over the divorce. More than one resident had been known to comment, “Poor Charlie Mullins, ever since that bitch left him he’s just disappeared. Guy’s got no social life at all. He shows up alone at company functions and goes home alone when they’re over. Damned shame is what it is!”
Charlie paid more attention to what was said about him than the residents of Shoreville suspected. Although many accepted Charlie’s strange-for-Shoreville lifestyle and chalked it off to idiosyncrasy and hurt feelings, some were intrigued by any form of behavior that deviated from the Shoreville norm and took to watching Charlie and commenting about him.
This latter group concerned him. They were busybodies who would eventually try to invade his privacy if only to certify that he was “normal” by Shoreville’s standards. Charlie didn’t want people prying into his life.