The Pages of Her Life

by James L. Rubart

  “What do you need?”

  “I need change in here.” Allison pointed at her chest. “It has to be more than pretending I believe in myself. More than positive thinking. It has to be real.”

  “I agree.” Richard took a big bite of his pastrami sandwich and, when he finished chewing, said, “All men, all women, live in two worlds. The one beyond them, of circumstance and insinuation and friendships, of words spoken to them in jest and joy and anger and sorrow, in encouragement and cruelty. And then there is the world within. The world of words we speak to ourselves. What we know about ourselves. Truly know. In there, if we allow ourselves, we face our glories and horrors. Our moments and days and years are about the connection between those two worlds. About the gate we construct to allow the outside world in and the inside world out. And most folks allow too much of the outside world to inform their inward world.

  “They look to friendships, wealth, status, politics, religion, drugs, food, and many other things to fill them, but the thirst man has will never be quenched with those things.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “The same thing I suggested last time we talked.” Richard leaned forward. “Be willing to climb the mountain, even though you know it will be one of the highest you’ve ever scaled. And when God shows you the whole truth, be willing to step into it, no matter the cost.”

  thirty

  PARKER FOLLOWED ABRAHAM AROUND THE boat, working the nets, hauling in the catch. Dawson and Fredricks only glanced at him with disinterested eyes, and Parker didn’t see any point in engaging them in conversation. It was obvious Abraham was his best chance for an ally, so that’s where he focused his energy.

  During a quick lunch break, Abraham explained that they were aboard a type of boat called a purse seiner and gave a brief history of the type of fishing they were doing.

  “Seine fishing has been going on for ages. There are seine nets in Egyptian tomb paintings dating from as far back as 3000 BC. Pre-European Maori deployed seine nets over one thousand meters long from their canoes.

  “Native Indians on the Columbia River wove seine nets from spruce root fibers or wild grass. Here in Alaska we’re just doing a modern version of what they did. The net hangs vertically in the water. The bottom edge is held down by weights, and you can see the top is held up with buoys. Fish swimming near the surface are surrounded by this net wall, then the net is drawn tight, or ‘pursed,’ so it is closed at the bottom as well. Then we pull ’em in.”

  Abraham pointed at a large drum-like object. “We’re using a drum seine, which, as you can see, uses a horizontally mounted drum to haul and store the net. We pull the net over the roller, and the spooling gear makes sure it gets wound tightly on the drum.”

  Parker glanced around the boat, then focused on Abraham. “Not that much has changed.”

  Abraham shook his head. “Why are you here, Parker?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Are you always this direct?” Parker laughed.

  “Most of the time, yeah.” Abraham chewed slowly. “You here to escape?”

  “I’m here to make money.”

  “Oh.”

  “A friend needs help.”

  “Ah.” Abraham peered at Parker as if seeing right through him. “Why here? Why come to the middle of nowhere?”

  Parker took a bite out of his sandwich and gazed over the water at the thickly forested coastline. Alaska was far more beautiful than he’d imagined.

  “The job was available. Pays what I need. And I like the middle of nowhere.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Parker stood and tried to stretch his back. “How long are we working today?”

  “When the fish are running, we work. Period.”

  “That’s gotta be like five in the morning till nine at night.”

  “Pretty close, yeah. But not quite. Try four till midnight. Or three till midnight. Or two till midnight.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Long days, you betcha.” Abraham sighed. “Hard days, won’t lie. Logan is shooting for twenty sets today. That’s pushing it, so we’re going to be doing some back busting. We’ll be hurtin’ for certain.”

  “Sets?”

  “Laying out and bringing in the net full of salmon equals one set.”

  By the time Parker reached his bunk at ten past midnight, his body was shot. He’d wanted to shed his final extra pounds. This job would do it, or give him a heart attack.

  By the end of three days, he was spent, but Abraham kept pushing him. Not like Logan probably would have—the captain still acted like he was going to toss Parker overboard at any moment—but enough that Parker had little time to think about home.

  On the fourth morning Abraham tossed Parker a protein bar as they started work. “You’re doing fine so far.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever worked this hard three days in a row in my entire life. But it’s okay. It’s taking my mind off . . . my life.”

  “Good not to think about life for a while, and glad to hear it’s okay, ’cause you get to do the same thing for the next thousand days. At least,” Abraham grinned.

  “I can’t wait.”

  “More good news then. You don’t have to wait. We got at least eighteen hours ahead of us today. But we might get three or four minutes for lunch and dinner.”

  “How do you survive out here?”

  “Like I just said, it’s only three months. Sometimes less.” Abraham shrugged.

  “But it’s three months, averaging two to four or five hours of sleep a day. That’s insane. I don’t understand how anyone makes it without collapsing.”

  Abraham stopped moving and lasered his eyes on Parker. “You gotta choose, kid. What are you going to fix in your mind, huh? How this is making you stronger, or how it’s tearing you apart? Take pride in busting your butt on this job, or whine about how your feet are killing you? Think about the fact you’re not suffocating in an office building, or that you’re living a crazy adventure? Fixate on lack of sleep and the constant stink of fish guts, or think about seeing firsthand some of the most stunning landscape ever created?”

  Abraham gave him a light pop in the chest. “Who’s the real Parker, huh? The weak one or the strong one? Who are you at your core?”

  “I don’t need this, Abe.”

  “It’s exactly what you need. You have to accept that the muscle that gives out first isn’t in your legs or arms or back or hands or feet.” Abraham studied him for a few seconds, then tapped his head. “The one that always gives out first is right here. And it doesn’t matter what anyone else tells you. All the people in the world can tell you you’ll make it, but there’s only one voice that matters.”

  thirty-one

  THREE MINUTES AFTER ALLISON WALKED into the office after her lunch with Richard, Derrek appeared in her doorway, his face blank.

  “Allison, do you have a moment to discuss an important matter?”

  Have a moment? No, given the extra work he’d dumped on her the previous Friday, she’d have to clone herself to get it all done, and plus, Derrek’s “moments” were never three or four minutes, but at least fifteen-plus.

  “This really isn’t the best—”

  “Good, good, thanks for taking time. It’s minor and won’t take long, but I’d like to get clarity on it right away, get your input, so we can incorporate it into our company culture immediately.”

  “I really can’t, Derrek. I need to . . .” She trailed off. If Derrek had heard her—and there was nothing wrong with his hearing—he would continue to ignore her protests. Better to simply get it over with.

  Allison followed Derrek down the hall. He stopped outside his office and let her step through his door first. As she walked in, her jaw tightened. Three chairs. One for him, one for her, and in the third chair rested Linda’s ever-present notepad—a relic from another generation that still thought pen and paper were the only tools for taking notes.

 
“How is your day going, Allison?” Derrek asked.

  “Fine, thanks.” She pointed at the chair Linda’s notepad rested on. “We’re waiting for Linda?”

  “She should be here any—”

  Before Derrek finished, Linda strolled into the room with a plastered-on smile and said, “Good afternoon, Allison. Good afternoon, Derrek.”

  “Good afternoon, Linda.” Derrek motioned toward Allison. “Allison was just about to tell me about the first part of her day.”

  “Oh, lovely.”

  Allison glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry, but I have a set of drawings that are due in ten minutes and I need fifteen to review them. So can we cover this quickly?”

  “I’m sure they’re fine. You do excellent work, Allison.” Derrek nodded. “But in light of your time constraint, we will get right to the subject at hand.”

  Derrek stood, shut the door, then took his seat, back straight, eyes distant.

  “Linda and I have been talking about a number of recent mistakes that have cost the company money. We’ve decided to change our policies on how to handle these losses.”

  “What kind of mistakes?”

  “As an example, when a budgeting error is made on a client’s account.”

  Derrek stopped as if that was all the explanation needed.

  “Such as?”

  “If we get a defined budget from a client and it is allocated for a certain amount of billable hours for a project, and it turns out that a clerical error was made in the execution of that budget, the company suffers.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “I can see how it’s not easy to understand,” Derrek said, but the mocking twinkle in his eyes suggested she was too stupid to comprehend what he was driving at.

  “Let’s say one of our clients gives us $15,000 to develop a set of plans for a vacation home. But due to an error during the planning stages on our spreadsheet, the client actually gave us only $12,500. We have lost $2,500 by overspending in error. Do you understand now?”

  Allison held his gaze and didn’t respond.

  “Good, good, I knew you’d be able to grasp the idea.”

  Allison glanced at Linda. The woman smiled at her as if congratulating a fourteen-year-old on figuring out how to tie a shoelace.

  “What does that have to do with me? I don’t set the budget. I don’t enter them into the spreadsheet.”

  “Yes, but you do handle the account.”

  “And?”

  Derrek glanced at Linda, then out the window before focusing on Allison again.

  “We feel it’s only right to let you know that when you are issued your paycheck next week, it will be a bit lighter than usual.”

  “What?” Allison’s face went hot. “You’re taking money out of my paycheck?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are not going to do that.”

  “In this particular case your check will be reduced by thirty-five percent, as the mistake was sizable. But the pay period after that will only be fifteen percent. We wanted to give you the benefit of having it spread out over two paychecks to ease any discomfort that could potentially arise.”

  Allison blinked as a squeak of disbelief escaped her lips. “You’re going to do what?”

  Linda cocked her head. “I think you heard Derrek. The money lost due to the accounting mistake is going to come out of your next paycheck.”

  “You are not going to take money out of my paycheck.” Allison gripped the armrests of her chair and glared at Derrek.

  “Oh really?” Linda gave a mock frown. “And why is that?”

  “I didn’t make the mistake.”

  “That’s a good point, and I acknowledge it.” Derrek folded his arms behind his head. “You did not make the mistake. However, it is your account. Entrusted to you. So ultimately, you are responsible.”

  “No.” Allison shook her head. “This is insane. I don’t have a problem taking responsibility when I should, but I haven’t been shown the full budgets of any of the clients I’m handling. I don’t have anything to do with setting up budgets or billing clients or running numbers.”

  “I’m sure you faced this type of situation when you were running your own company.” Derrek tapped his fingertips together. “When you and Kayla made an accounting mistake, it ultimately meant less money for you and her. Even if Kayla was the one who made the mistake, you still shared in the loss.”

  “This is different!”

  “How so?” Linda leaned in, a thin smile glued to her face.

  She glared at Derrek. “Because with Kayla, I was a partner. Here? Still waiting.”

  Derrek sighed. “Allison, this isn’t the time or place to have that discussion.”

  “Fine. Then let’s talk about now. At this moment I don’t have the control I did when Kayla and I were together. I don’t send out the budgets. Dianne does.” She stared at Linda. “And you are the one who approves all the budgets before they’re implemented.”

  Linda’s eyes went dark, and she slowly tilted her head to the right as if deciding how to fillet Allison.

  “Allison.” Derrek undid his hands and leaned forward, elbows now on his desk. “This company is not in the habit of blaming others.”

  “I’m not blaming. I’m simply pointing out that I had no control over whether that mistake was made. So I don’t see how—”

  “This isn’t a debate, Allison.” Linda’s eyes narrowed. “We are simply explaining to you how we will conduct this part of our business going forward so there are no surprises when you open your next paycheck. This is a courtesy conversation. And hopefully it will spur you to check the budgets from now on.”

  “This is flat-out wrong. You know it. I should not have to bear the responsi—”

  “Do you think we should take it out of Dianne’s check?” Linda snapped. “She makes far less than you. She can’t afford the loss to the degree you can.”

  “How do you know what I can and can’t afford, Linda?” Allison’s voice rose, and she struggled to keep from shouting.

  “We have been paying you generously,” Linda said with sticky syrup in her voice. “But whether you can or can’t afford it doesn’t matter. What matters is doing what is right. And this is how we’ve chosen to have things rectified when errors are made.”

  “How are you paid, Linda? A percentage of profits?” Allison turned to Derrek, her cheeks hot. “Dianne and I are on a fixed salary. You, and I suspect Linda as well, take a significant percentage of the profits of this company every month.”

  Derrek chuckled. “I’m not sure if you understand—”

  “Before I came here, you explained that the company has been extremely profitable, and since I came here, we’ve added five new clients. Five. In three months. I had a minor hand in two of them, and a major hand in three. How can you laugh at me and tell me I don’t—”

  “I’m not laughing at you, Allison.” Derrek betrayed himself instantly with a broad smile. “But there are factors you are not comprehending. There are a great many elements that go into a company’s profitability. Ones I haven’t taken the time to explain in detail, but trust me, there are months Linda and I barely take any money home at all.”

  “Barely take any money home at all” meant what? Derrek had told Allison before she’d come that he was making $490,000 a year. What was “barely”? Twenty-five thousand a month? Twenty? What was Linda scraping by on? Fifteen grand a month?

  “It’s not right.” Allison glanced from Derrek to Linda, then back to Derrek. “I’m being penalized for mistakes I had no hand in making. And despite what you think, Linda, I can’t afford to lose that money.”

  Derrek nodded, a look of deep understanding on his face, and for a moment Allison thought he would agree with her. “I know it can’t be easy. And I feel bad things had to come to this, but it’s the way it’s going to be for the time being. Linda and I have talked about this extensively. Sought God’s counsel. We know this is what he is directing us to do. Pl
ease know we did not enter into this decision lightly or without extensive time spent in prayer.

  “Once we get our feet back under us, we can revisit the policy. Odds are we’ll go back to the way it was, with the company absorbing mistakes such as this one. And I wasn’t going to tell anyone this, but due to your consternation, I’ll let you in on it early. We’ve already talked about a long-term solution. There is a strategy in place for everyone in the company to become part of a profit-sharing plan at the end of the year. Likely before. So there is an excellent chance you’ll be able to make up the money and more.”

  Derrek smiled at her like he’d just told Allison that her mom’s financial tsunami would be taken care of, that she and Parker would connect again like in the days before Joel died, and that a wonderful man would come into her life—all in the next thirty seconds.

  “An ‘excellent chance’ doesn’t take care of my finances right now.” Allison tried to hold down her voice, but it rose in volume. “I have obligations that must be met now, not from money that might be coming at the end of the year. It doesn’t work that way!”

  Allison slumped back in her chair and shoved down the tears trying to force their way out.

  “Linda?” Derrek asked. “Might I have a moment with Allison alone?”

  Linda nodded. Allison wanted to slap the smugness off her face. Derrek waited a few moments after his office door had closed. He folded his hands and unfolded them. Fold. Unfold.

  “As much as I would like to help you, and as much as I sympathize with your position, my primary responsibility is to this company. I must keep it healthy so all of us can stay healthy. There are eighteen people on the payroll. I want to keep them on the payroll. To do that, sometimes difficult measures must be taken. This is one of those times. It won’t be the last. But trust me, good times are coming as well. And you’re a big part of that. You’ve been doing excellent work. I believe in you, possibly more than you believe in yourself.”

  “Derrek, please, I can’t—”