The Road of Life

by Lorena Franco

  Stuartlefthiscareerasamodelandstartedworkingwithhisfather,thegreatandimposing head of the pharmaceutical company, Michael Clayton. He placed his son as the head of the administrationdepartment,eventhoughhecouldn’tadduptwoplustwowithoutthehelpofa calculator.Whatwehadnotexpectedwasthat,twoyearslater,hepromotedmetoexecutive vice-president.HefinallypaidussomeattentionandsawthatIhadtwocollegedegrees,one injournalismandtheotherineconomics,anditturnedoutwellforhimtogivemetheposition afterhisrighthandwoman,thecruelCharlotteSmith,retired.AndinthefiveyearsthatIhad beenworkinginmynewappointedposition,Ihadnotlethimdownatall.Onthecontrary.Just ashealwayssaidtome,Ihadpleasantlysurprisedhimandhewashonoredtohavemewith him,withmycourage,powerfulintelligenceandprofessionality.ButIfeltthatIhadbecome somewhatofahag.Icouldn’tevenstandmyselfintheofficeandwishedIcouldrunoutofthe door and escape to any other place that had nothing to do with that world. I had become somebodywhoImyselfwouldhavehatedduringanothertimeinmylife.Ihadchosenmyfate, my lifestyle and even my personality and the way I treated others. With every hateful look, every sarcastic smile, or every cruel word I used against my employees, I was financing my seatinhell.

  IsaidgoodbyetoMattatthedoor.Stuart,whostillneededatleastatankofcoffeetowake himupproperly,finallyrealizedthathewouldhavetobeinchargeoftakingoursontoschool thatmorning,whichwasthreeblocksawayfromourapartment.

  “Mom,leaveme...!”Mattsaid,wipinghischeekcleanintheplacewhereIhadkissedhim sweetly.HewasnolongerababythatIcouldkissallthetimeashelaughedupatme.Hewas growingupandhavinghismotherkisshimwasembarrassing,evenifitwasintheprivacyof ourownhome.

  “I’llseeyoulater.It’sgoingtobeatoughday.”Stuartcommented,shrugginghisshoulders, asarcasticsmileonhisfacethatactuallybotheredme.

  “A tough day?” , I thought. Not for him. He, as always, you give the best of his perfect smilestothethirtypeoplewhoworkedforhimintheadministrationdepartment.Asalways,he wouldsitinhisoffice,hewouldsignsomedocumentsthathavealreadybeenrevisedbyhis efficientadministrators,hewouldwatchastupidvideoonYouTube,hewouldpostacoupleof selfiesofhimpoutingonInstagramforhisonehundredthousandfollowers,hewouldlaughat ajokehesawonTwitterandthenretweetit,thenhewouldcommentonpoststhatcatchhiseye onFacebook,thesocialnetworkwherehehadmorefriendsthatinreallifeandthen,atfive pm, he would go home to rest after such a “tough” day at work. Yeah, for Stuart, that was a toughday.

  Itookalastsipfrommycoffee.ThenIpickedupthetwentyfoldersbelongingtothelast meetingsthatIhadhadwiththeboardofdirectorsoverthepastfewdaysandheadeddownto the parking lot. The engine of my pearl-white Porsche Cayman roared into life, while the words that had been used in each one of the many meetings we had been having for moths echoedinsidemyhead.Sophisticatedmachinesthatwouldsubstitutetenthousandpeople...ten thousandpeoplewhowouldhaveahardtimefindinganotherjob.Timeswerenotgreatatthe

  moment, and it definitely wouldn’t be for them. Tormented, I drove through the city of New York at a turtles pace, which was full of morning traffic already, until I reached the office, locatedontheoutskirtsofanindustrialestatewherethemostimportantcompaniesintheentire citycouldbefound.Iwalkedintomyofficewithoutgreetingstuck-upVirginia.Ihatedher.I don’t know why I hired her in the first place, two years ago. All of the secretaries that had worked with me had left by their own choice, they couldn’t stand me. For some unknown reason,thatoldwitchstayedatherjob,puttingupwithmyharshwordsandmyconstanthatred towardher.Iputmyfilesdownontheofficedeskinchronologicalorder.Ilookedoutofmy window,whereIhadprivilegedviewsattheworkerswhohadbeenworkingontheproduction chainsinceseveno’clockthatmorning.Itriedatallcoststostopmyselffromcrying,byIwas ahumanbeingofskinandbonewithfeelings.Iimaginedthosemenandwomenasfathersand mothers of small children. Children like Matt, who had to be fed, clothed, given a good educationandpayfortheirhealthinsurance.Icouldevenseemanyoftheirfaces,withlooksof satisfaction for the job they carried out. Yes, the majority of them enjoyed their work, even thoughtheyhadtospendcountlesshoursstandingthere,concentratingonthesmallpiecesthat wouldsoonnolongerbehandledbytheirhands.

  Virginiaknockedonmyofficedoorthreetimes.

  “Whatdoyouwant?”Iasked.

  “I have sent you an email with the list of all of the names of the people who are to be fired.”

  “Verywell.”

  ThesecretarystoodandstaredatmeasifIhadgrowntwoheads.

  “Anythingelse?”

  She shook her head and managed to wrinkle her ostrich’s neck even more, if that were possible.

  “Thengobacktoyourdeskandclosethedoorbehindyou.”

  Obediently,Virginiareturnedtoherdesk.Itookadeepbreath,justasIhadlearnedtodoin mymeditationclasseswithFabio,myItalianyogaprofessor.Butnoteventhathelpedtocalm medown.Whatthehell?Ishouldhavebeenhappy.Mycurrentaccountwasgoingtohavea few zeros added to it, thanks to the fabulous idea that I had given to my bosses about the machines that would substitute the employees. With a bit of luck, I could retire by the time I wasforty.AndIonlyhadfouryearsleftforthat.Ohmygod!OnlyfouryearsuntilIwasforty...

  Whenhadthetimegonesofast?Itookanotherdeepbreath.Buttheonlythingthatseemedto workwaspursingmylipstogether,simulatingacold-as-icelookandwalkingoutofmyoffice withalotofnoisefrommyhighheelstobethecenterofeverybody’sattention.Ilookeddown attheemployeesforamoment,eachonegoingabouttheirownbusiness,concentrated,happy and calm that they had a good job to go to every morning. A routine that they valued and appreciatedasiftheyhadwonthelottery.Damn.Injustafewseconds,Iwasgoingtoruinthe livesoftenthousandpeople.IwantedtogobacktobeingthatjournalistIoncewaswithno responsibilities at that fashion magazine. The only worry I had back then was if I explained myselfproperlywhenIhadtoinformourreadersaboutthebestwaytoapplymascaraorhow tonotmakeamessofthingswhentheonlythingwewantedwasforoureyelinertobeperfect.

  “Good morning.” I greeted, raising my voice. I swallowed saliva, pursed my lips firmly and, when I had the attention of the twenty thousand people I had below the platform I was standingon,IbuiltmyselfuptogivetheworstnewsthatIhadhadtogiveinmyfiveyearsas executive vice president. “I'm sorry to inform you that ten thousand of the people who are currentlyworkinghereontheproductionchainwillbefiredinfifteendays’time.Throughout thisweek,youwillreceiveyournoticeslips.Thankyouforyourattention."

  Iturnedaroundand,withmyshouldersshrugged,returnedtomyofficewithouttakingthe slightestnoticeofVirginia.Iwassafeinthere.Safefromthewhispering,thejeering,criticism, looksfullofhatredanddisdainthatalloftheworkershadshotmywayassoonasIfinished speaking.Tenminuteslater,Stuartwalkedinwithasmileonhisface.

  “Haveyougiventhemthenewsyet?”Heasked.

  “Whyareyousmiling?Areyouhappythattenthousandpeoplehavejustlosttheirjobs?”

  “Doyouknowtheamountofmoneywearegoingtosave?We’regoingtoberichand,of course,myworkloadwilldecrease...machinesdon’tneedcontracts.”Hecontinued,laughing.

  Stuarthadalwayshadagift...beingabletoinfuriatemeinamatterofseconds.

  “
You mean the work of the administrators who work for you. And about being rich...

  seriously,morethanwearenow?WhatforStuart?”Iwasambitious.Ihadbeen.ButStuart’s extremeambitionwasaproblem.

  “Idon’tknowwhyyou’reactinglikethat.Itwasyouwhohadthemarvelousideatovisit thatpharmaceuticalCompanyinGermany,wheretherearemoremachinesthanhumanbeings.”

  Theworstpartwasthathewasright.Iwastheonlyonetoblameforeverything.

  “Pleaseleave...unlikesome,Ihavealotofworktodo.”

  Stuartdidn’tevensaygoodbye,Iguessmywordshadhurthisfeelings.Hewalkedoutasif hewerebackononeoftherunwayshehadoncewalkedon,slammingthedooronhiswayout.

  Ourrelationshipwasn’tasidealaswewouldhavelikedpeopletobelieve.Intruth,weargued muchmorethanweusedtoandIhadbeenconvincedforquitesometimethatStuarthadbeen unfaithfultomeatsomepointinourrelationship.Whatyoudon’tsee...can’thurtyou,asthey say,butawomancanfeelthosethings.Andunfortunately,ourintuitionalmostneverfailed.My feelingstowardhimwerebecomingcolderandtheonlythingthatkeptustogetherwasourson, thebestthingeitherofushadeverdoneinourlives.

  ItoldVirginiatobringmeinacoffee.Asusual,itwaslackingsugar,butIdidn’tevenhave thestrengthtotellheroff.Anhourlater,athin,veryshortemployeeburstintomyoffice,with enormousglassesthathidherlargebrowneyes.Nobodyhadeverenteredmyofficeinsucha manner and I felt overcome with fear. When fear takes over my body, I become threatening, carrying out my role as the aggressive vice president as if I were the best actress in Hollywood. The poor girl could hardly even mutter a clear and concise “Good morning.” I couldseeinhereyes,whichstareddownattheflooratalltimes,thatshewasscaredofher hurriedandunconsciousacts.Virginia,whohadnotbeenabletostopher,wasbehindherand lookedabsolutelyterrified.

  “Who gave you permission to interrupt me?” I asked. "Virginia, what am I paying you for?"

  “I'msorryMrs.Clayton.I'll...”Mysecretaryreplied,herheadlow.

  “No,itdoesn'tmatter,forgetaboutit."Iinterrupted."Afterallthistime,youhavefinally confirmed to be that you're completely useless. Get out.” I continued to say to Virginia who, afterlookinghatefulattheemployee,returnedtoherdesk.“Andwhatdoyouwant?”

  “No...excuseme...I...I'mverysorry;IjustwantedtoknowifIwasoneofthepeoplewho aregoingtobefired.”Thewomanreplied,notlookingupfromthefloor.

  “Isthisreallyhappening?”Iasked,laughing.Iwassonervousthatmylegswereshaking.

  Isthathowfamouspeoplefeltwhentheywerechasedbytheirfans?Idecidedtolookbackat my computer screen. “Why do we have the guys down at admin?” I sighed. It was only a second.Ilookedattheemployeeoutofthecornerofmyeye,whowasstillstaringdownatthe floor.“Youname?”

  “Bonnie,BonnieLarson.”

  “Larson... Right.” I looked for her name in the fired employees file. Damn. Bad news.

  “Yes, you’re fired.” I said, forcing a smile so that I didn’t look like the evil witch I most probablylookedliketoher.

  “But...“But...”Shestammered.Poorthing...

  “Leavemyofficeimmediately.”Isaid.Herpresencewasmakingmeevenmorenervous, butImanagedtocontrolmytremblinglegsandwalkedslowlyovertoher.“Didn’tyouhear me?”Iasked,raisingmyvoicewhenIstoodinfrontofher,withherbeingthreeheadsshorter than myself. Bonnie looked up and stared at me with her disturbing large brown eyes. In a quickmovement,sheyankedacoupleofhairsfrommyheadandranoff.Ididn’thavetimeto react,Iwasparalyzedwithshock,asstillasastatueandtheonlythingImanagedtoaskas:

  “Whatthehelldoyouthinkyou’redoing?”

  Icouldlivewithouttwohairs.Whatweretwohairscomparedtotheonehundredandfifty thousand that a human being normally had? Nothing, they were insignificant. Even so, I was puzzled by the surreal situation I had just experienced. I imagined that the poor woman had wantedtohitmeorhurtmeandtheonlythingshemanagedtodowaspulltwoofmyhairsout, whichshetookwithher.Ididn’tthinkanymoreaboutthesituationandwenttositbackdown on my comfortable chair. I forgot about lunch or asking useless Virginia for more coffee. I answered hundreds of phone calls including one from my father in law, who was enjoying a pleasurable vacation in the Caribbean with his new, twenty-three year old girlfriend called Brenda.Hehadtoldmeaboutitduringourlastmeetingbeforeheleft.

  “I’llleaveeverythinginyourhands.Iknowyou’lldoagreatjob.”

  WhenIfinallygotupfrommychair,mybackached.Iwasgettingolder.Irealizedthatit was already seven in the evening; another day that I would eat supper at ridiculous hours. I smiled as I thought of Matt, how much I wanted to see him and be with him, even if he was playing with his scalextric. And, of course, make things better with Stuart. Even though my behaviorwas not beenthe best, hehad to understand thatI was nervousand that my attitude withhimhadnotbeenright.Ipickedupmypurseandturnedoffmycomputer.Iwalkedoutof myofficemakingsurethatVirginia’scomputerwasalsoturnedoff.Istoppedforamomentto observethenightworkers,whohadalsoheardtheterriblenews.Someofthemlookedupat me,butquicklylookedbackaway.Igotintomycarandheadedhomeafterahardandstrange days’work.ButwhatIdidn’tknowwasthat,whatwaswaitingformethatnight,wasgoingto beverystrangeindeed.Andthehardestpartwasstilltocome.

  WHOISTHATWOMAN,DADDY?

  Thedoormanofmyapartmentblocklookedatmedifferently.EventhoughIgreetedhimnicely, hedidn’treturnthegreetingandsimplylookeddownatthenewspaperonthecounterinfront of him. I thought that he had probably had a hard day, I could understand that. I rode in the elevatoruptotheeighthfloorandstoppedtogetmykeysoutofmypurse.Theyweren’tthere.

  Maybe I had left them in the office. I looked up to the ceiling and tried to remember. Had I lockedthedoorbehindmewhenIleftthismorning?IthoughtIhad.Therefore,Ihadtakenmy keys.MaybeIhadlefttheminthecar,itwouldn’thavebeenthefirsttime.Resigned,Irangthe doorbell.Mattrantothedoor.

  “Who is it?” He asked. His father and I had always taught him that, when somebody knockedonthedoor,thefirstthinghehadtodowasaskwhoitwasandnotopenthedoorto strangers.

  “It’sme,honey.”

  “I’msorry,Idon’tknowyou.Goodbye.”

  “Comeon,Matt...please...I’minnomoodforgames.”

  Ihearddifferentfootstepswalkingtowardthedoor.ItwasStuart.

  “Stuart!Stuart,openthedoorplease...”

  Stuartopenedthedoorbutdidn’tletmeinside.Helookedatmewithindifference,soIhad notroublesayingsorryforthebriefargumentwehadhadinmyofficethatmorning,evenifit wasinthelandingwithhimnotlettingmeinsidethehouse.

  “Stuart,forgiveme,seriously...Iwasveryworkedup,I...”

  “Whoareyou?”Heasked,confused.Matthidbehindhim.

  “WhatdoyoumeanwhoamI?Isthissomekindofjoke?Aretherehiddencamerashereor something?”

  “I’msorry,ma’am,wedon’tknowyou.I’mgoingtoclosethedoornow.”

  “Don’tyoudare,Stuart.”Isaid,holdingthedoorwithallthestrengthIcouldmustersothat hecouldn’tcloseitinmyfaceasifIweresomedoortodoorsales-person.

  “Howdoyouknowmyname?LeaveorI’llcallthepolice.”

  “Whoisthatwoman,daddy?”Mattasked,crying.Ihadn’tseenhimsoblike
thatsincehe wasthreeyearsoldandhehadhithisheadonachair.

  “Idon’tknow,John.”

  “John?FortheloveofGod,Stuart!”

  Theso-calledJohn,wasMatt.Theywereplayingagoddamnpracticaljokeonmethat,at thattimeofnightandaftertheterribledayIhadsuffered,Iwasnotgoingtoputupwith.That childwasmyson,withthesamegreeneyesasStuart,hissameblondhairandevenhissame jawline that, even at such a young age, could be seen that it was going to be strong and masculine.

  “Canyoutellmewhatiswrongwithyou?”Stuartaskedme,evenmoreconfusedthanatthe beginning.

  “Come on, that’s enough.” I laughed nervously. “A very good joke indeed... very good.

  Nowplease,Ijustwanttotakethesegoddamnheelsoffandlaydownonthesofa.”

  “Wowdad!Shesaidaswearword!”SincewhendidswearingbotherMatt?

  “Goandfinishyoursupper,John.”Theboyobeyedanddisappeareddownthehall.“And you,you’recrazy.Pleaseleavehereimmediately.”

  Without even realizing what was happening, Stuart closed the door on me. I continued to knockonthedoorinsistentlyuntilthedoormanarrivedwithasternlookonhisface.

  “Ma’am,pleasecomewithme.”Hesaidaspolitelyaspossible,lookingtowardthedoor whereheknewthatStuartwasobservingthescenethroughthespyhole.Ineverreallygreeted him, I was always very mean toward him, with the exception of that night and I could understand that he was enjoying the moment but... Did they want to drive me insane? The doormanwasinonthepracticaljoketoo?

  “What?Butthisismyhouse!AllIwanttodoisgoinsidemyownhouse!”Ishouted.“Let goofme.”Thedoormanlistenedtome.Istaredbackathimand,asifIwerestillinmyroleof aggressivevicepresident,Idecidedtostandmygroundandspeakwithdetermination.“That’s enough.Wherearethecameras?Imustsay,itisaveryfunnyjokeindeed,buttheseheelsare killingme...soletmeintomyhomerightaway.”