by Dermot Davis
Who really knew or fully understood the ways of the world and man’s place within and upon it, anyhow? Certainly not him; not for now, at least. Only time would tell and who was to say if his soul were damned before or after he had embarked upon the adventure? Surely an adventure scorned is a lost opportunity for the soul to gain experience? If it really did exist, did the soul only wish to experience the light?
In the story of the prodigal son, it was the son that went off into the world of sin and came back that was celebrated by the father. The son that stayed at home got nothing. The sword that suffers and is tempered through the fires of the deathly hot fiery furnace is the sword that ends up the strongest.
For her part, every day Fiona woke up, she felt sick to her stomach. The thoughts of Andrew following in her father’s footsteps sickened her to her core. She didn’t fail to consider that a large part of her attraction to Andrew was that he was nothing like her father and at first sight, he couldn’t have been more dissimilar.
If every day of her life was a battle for the saving of her father’s soul, how could she possibly start the next phase of her life in a weary battle for the redemption of the soul of her true love?
Andrew was her soul mate; why could he not see things more clearly? Was he so blinded by the promise of cash and the cuteness of his co-worker (with whom he was spending so much of his time recently; far more than he choose to spend with his professed true love)? The whole situation reeked and Fiona was not above being suspicious that her father had schemed the entire scenario in yet another one of his attempts to break them apart.
“I went from seeing Andrew every day to now barely seeing him ever at all, how do you think I’m feeling?” she responded to him one evening in her surliest manner when they clashed in the kitchen.
“That’s the way of the world, sunshine,” he responded, hoping but failing to sound reasonable. “A young couple can’t expect to spend every waking moment with each other, sweetheart. Apart from being unnatural and boring, at some stage the man has to go out and make a name for himself in the world. That’s the man’s role, don’t you think?” he asked while making himself a tuna salad sandwich.
“It was not unnatural and we were never bored,” Fiona responded sourly, staring at him across the kitchen island. “You manufactured the whole thing, didn’t you?”
“Manufactured?” he repeated. “That’s a bit strong, even for you, don’t you think? I kept him out of jail; had the best medical doctors bring him back to health and got him a job with a fortune 500 company that most any young men would sell their souls to get hired at, so yes, perhaps you are right: I did manufacture the whole thing, guilty as charged.”
“Interesting choice of phrase, ‘sell their souls,’” she remarked.
“Unfortunate, perhaps, but you get my meaning. What is it exactly that you’re accusing me of, precious?”
“You placed Andrew in a job in, most likely, the closest part of town to his mother’s house,” she said, counting each point she was making with a newly extended finger. “You put him in a job that required him to work the longest hours, ever,” she said with an increasingly accusatory tone. “And you made sure that he worked for a boss that was just about his age and most probably the best-looking woman in the entire organization,” she said, making her last point with a flourish.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Simon said like he couldn’t prevent himself from chuckling. “You’ve been watching too many trial lawyers on TV or something, for me to take you seriously.”
“You may fool everybody else but you seem to be forgetting one thing,” she said with determined force. “I can see right through you,” she said as she turned and walked.
Answering an incoming phone call from a person she had grown to like, Fiona smiled. “Hi, Professor,” she said brightly.
“How are you doing today? You sound chipper,” Professor Dowling said, relieved that he she reacted positively towards him.
“It takes effort, trust me,” she said like the endeavor was exhausting. “What’s up?”
“Well, as you know, Andrew and I like to get together every now and then but I just spoke with him very briefly and he tells me that he’s swamped and expects to be for some time.”
“Tell me about it,” Fiona said.
“He suggested that I call you, see if you wanted to get together, catch up, whatever.”
“I’d love that!”
“You would?” Dowling said with cheerful surprise. “Terrific!”
Requisition sheet in hand, Andrew walked along a bank of grey-green metal filing cabinets in an attempt to match the codes from the sheet with the correct cabinet. Taking a look inside some of the files, he tried to make out exactly what he was actually doing. All of the files before him seemed to contain different types of papers and information. Although they were all photocopies of originals, none of them looking very much alike.
One file contained what looked like legal contracts; pages and pages of small print legalese. Another file contained pages of accounting information: financial records like balance sheets, profit and loss accounts, general ledgers and so on. Another file contained company documents like mission statements, board of directors, lists of employees, etc.
A dolly-load of stacked boxes wheeled into the room, the hands of Lily just visible as the rest of her diminutive body was obscured. “Need help with that?” Andrew asked, putting aside the files in his hands. Dumping the boxes with a thud, Lily took a deep breath. “Better than a workout,” she said, smiling. “What’s ya got there?” she asked, thinking that he might be stuck or confused about something.
“I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what I do here for twelve hours every day,” he said, looking into the morass of documents before him.
“Good luck with that,” she said, sorting out some of the boxes.
“You must know something,” he said skeptically.
Turning to face him, Lily looked like she was making a decision.
“What?” he asked.
“Okay,” she finally said, walking towards him. “You know what due diligence is?”
“No.”
“Suppose one company wants to take over or buy or merge with another company, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“How do they know what the other company is worth?” she asked, pausing so that he’ll think about it. “They have to do their homework, right? Do some research, some digging around to see if what they’re being told is correct. That’s due diligence.”
“Gotcha,” Andrew said, looking at the documents with a fresh pair of eyes. “So all this stuff is research.”
“You can’t go on what the company thinks it’s worth, right? What if they’re hiding something that they don’t want you to see, for instance?”
“Right.”
“Maybe they have debts that they’ve got hidden somewhere or someone’s been cooking the books or whatever,” Lily explained. “Maybe some guy is on the board of this company but he’s not telling that he’s on the board of another company that might profit from the takeover, let’s say.”
“Okay, that makes sense,” Andrew said, looking at the rec sheet he was working on. “So, for instance, this rec sheet wants to know a lot of details about a company called Quanta Systems. Board of directors, their accounts, their employees,” he said, matching off the list to the information required.
“There you go,” Lily said, returning to her work.
“Where did they get all this information to begin with?” he then asked. “Everything is a photocopy of an original.”
“That, my friend is a question better left unasked, know what I’m saying?”
“Yes,” he answered, even though he didn’t fully understand.
“Way above both our pay grades, if you get my drift.”
“Gotcha,” he then said, returning to his task. “I guess that makes me a Due Diligence Inspector or something,” he boasted.
“You didn’t hear that f
rom me,” she said, wondering to herself if she went above her duties of training in the new guy. “You want to take a break?” she ten asked as she looked at the mess of boxes and files before her with dismay.
As they made their way to the break room, for the first time since he began working there, Andrew felt accepted and approved. Lily had never asked him to take a break with her before and he walked taller as they entered the small kitchen area.
“At least the coffee here is good,” she said, selecting her mug from an assortment of hanging cups and mugs dangling on a rack. “You can use any of those if you don’t have one already,” she said, pointing to some strays.
Selecting the newest-looking mug he could find, Andrew waited his turn to pour himself some coffee. Looking exhausted and like she really needed the caffeine, Lily sat at a table by the wall.
“Hard night?” Andrew asked when he sat opposite.
“Something like that,” she answered cryptically. “You settling in okay?” she asked like she didn’t want the discussion to get personal.
“Yeah, thank you,” he answered, wondering how much he should reveal. “Do you like working here?” he asked.
“The pay is good,” she answered as she took a sip of her coffee. “What about you? You like it here?”
“The pay is good,” Andrew answered with a smile. “Can I ask you something?” he asked after a pause.
“Sure.”
“You said that you joined the Wise Serpents groups before you joined the company.”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask why?”
“I don’t believe in any organized religion, I guess. I like the teachings. Besides, my mother’s been a member since forever and I guess it started when she took me along to the meetings. Same as everyone that’s a member, pretty much. Either a friend or a family member brings them along. It’s not like they advertise their existence. What about you?” she asked and then when he paused, she remembered. “Oh, that’s right, you’re not a member. I don’t need to know your story,” she then said and drank some more coffee.
“I’m dating Simon Blake’s daughter,” Andrew said, deciding to lay it all out there.
“Oh,” Lily said, like that explained everything.
“He couldn’t have gotten you a better job?” she asked with a smirk.
“I guess not. I don’t think he likes me, very much.”
As Lily smiled, Andrew noticed that her face fully relaxed for the first time since he met her. When she looked up and her face quickly returned to seriousness, Andrew turned to see who must have walked in.
Two men in their thirties; both of them dressed in smart, expensive suits, with a no-nonsense look on their steel-eyed faces were walking toward them and stopped in front of Andrew. Looking like they could be detectives in some upscale, ultra-rich police force, they stared down at Andrew. “You need to come with us,” the nearest one said.
“What’s this about?” Andrew asked, wondering if he was in some kind of trouble. “Who are you?”
Acting like they weren’t in any mood for discussion, the men stood expectantly.
“You should go with them,” Lily said quietly. “They work here.”
Andrew stood up and followed the men as they led him into a side office. Directing him to sit at a desk, one of the men sat opposite while the other remained standing. Andrew looked up at the man standing and waited for him to sit. Taking a pose like a Sherriff in a courtroom, Andrew could tell from his stance that the man wasn’t going to sit down any time soon.
“So, how’s the position working out for you so far?” the sitting man asked.
“Good,” Andrew answered, wondering what kind of an answer the guy was expecting. “No complaints.”
“No complaints?” the man repeated.
“No, everything’s fine, I think.”
“You think?” the guy asked.
“Yeah, well, it’s fine for me; I don’t know how my superiors are feeling but yeah, everything’s fine.”
“You think your superiors think that everything’s fine?” he asked.
“I don’t see why not,” Andrew answered as he moved uneasily in his chair. “What’s this about? Am I in some kind of trouble?”
“Just a routine chat,” the man said, looking up at his buddy who nodded his head in agreement. “Early job evaluation, that kind of thing,” he said like he didn’t mean it.
“Well, everything’s going great. No concerns on my end,” Andrew said like he was done, already.
“You were told about secrecy?” the man asked. “You signed all the necessary confidentiality reports.”
“Yes.”
“You understand what’s required, then?” the man asked, his eyes boring into Andrew’s. “You understand that secrecy means, just that, secrecy?”
“Has someone said something?” Andrew asked looking from one stoic face to the other. “Yes, I understand what secrecy means.”
“What do you think it means?” the man asked without blinking or changing his dour facial expression.
“It means keeping silent,” Andrew answered like he resented being treated like a child or worse, a moron.
“You’ve been keeping silent?”
“Has someone said otherwise?”
“You’ve been keeping silent?” the man repeated.
“Yes,” Andrew answered, sounding irritated.
“Good,” the man then said, his mood shifting to a friendlier disposition. “There’s no problems, then?” he asked. “You understand the need for secrecy and you’re being silent.”
“Yes, no problems,” Andrew answered, like he had just been given a warning.
“Keep up the good work, then,” the man said as he stood up and joining his comrade, they left the room.
As Andrew slowly walked back to the break room, he wondered what the visit was all about. Lily had left already so he knocked back his cold coffee and washed the mug. Did someone make a complaint against him? Deciding to ask Lily about the visitors, Andrew returned to the file room. Lily looked focused on her task and didn’t acknowledge his return.
“Who were those guys?” he asked, returning to his work.
“They show up now and again. No one even knows what department they belong to.”
“Was that normal? I mean, them just showing up like that? Was there a complaint made against me or something?”
“Normal?” Lily asked and thought about it. “I don’t know what normal is around here,” she said and, file in hand, she left the room like that was far as she wanted to go with the discussion.
“Loose lips sink ships, huh?” he said after her even though he knew that she probably couldn’t hear him.
Taking a drive to go visit Professor Dowling gave Fiona a good reason to get out of the house and do something different, for a change. It was the first time that she was actually inside of his ramshackle house and she was clearly impressed with his electronic gizmos, and other psychic phenomena paraphernalia, which cluttered the place.
“What does this one do?” she asked, stopping by an old-looking contraption as he gave her the house tour.
“That’s half of a set,” Dowling answered cheerfully, delighted that she was taking an interest in his work. “The other one is around here somewhere,” he said, looking fruitlessly around, “but you sit here,” he said, indicating a seat that was attached to a small desk, “and put the headset with the inbuilt electrodes onto your head.”
“This gnarly-looking thing?” Fiona asked, looking at the ancient headset with wires coming from it as if it might be contaminated or dangerous even.
“Yes. The other person sits at the other half of the equipment and does the same, a different headset, of course,” he said with a chuckle. “The two individuals would then be able to transfer their thoughts to each other, back and forth.”
“Cool,” Fiona exclaimed, with a renewed respect for the technology. “Does it work?” she asked, sounding like she might be deeply interested.
>
“Results were never statistically significant,” he said sadly. “No, it didn’t work,” he then said when she looked uncertain about his first answer.
“Bummer,” she said as she moved on.
“I do have more modern equipment that’s much more effective,” he said enthusiastically. “Want to give it a go?”
“Yeah,” Fiona said with a smile. “That would be way cool. Oh, hold on,” she said, as she took out her vibrating cell phone. “Hi, sweetie?” she answered.
“Hey, girl,” Andrew said sweetly.
“On your lunch?”
“Yeah, have to go back in shortly. What’s you up to?”
“I’m visiting Professor Dowling,” she said excitedly. “His house is so wild! You never told me he kept all this really old cool parapsychology stuff!” she admonished.
“Oh, yeah, thought you might get a kick out of some of that crap.”
“It’s not crap!” she admonished, turning her body away so that Dowling wouldn’t hear. “You’re such an old fart about things sometimes.”
“Listen, I had the weirdest visit from two guys from corporate today and I think they were like giving me a warning or something. They shook me up pretty good.”
“You poor thing, what did they want?”
“They got on my case about secrecy as if I was running my mouth all over the place, which, obviously I’m not.”
“So, you think it had something to do with me?” she asked, her feathers getting a bit ruffled.
“I haven’t talked to anybody else,” he said, like it was a possibility. “I’m not accusing you or anything but is there something you may have said? To your father, maybe?”
Fiona bit her tongue and held her anger in check.
“I’m only asking because they really sounded like they meant business, you know? These guys don’t mess around. I don’t know what they’d do if—”