He spun his
chair slowly and looked out the window on the darkened world, an almost empty
glass of champagne in his hand. He could
see light snow falling. Nuisance snow
was what drivers called it, enough to make roads wet and slippery once it began
to accumulate even a little. But, he
never saw it that way, never had to deal with it that way. He just got to enjoy watching it fall. He leaned back in the chair, his feet braced
against the sill of the panoramic view of the window behind him in a rare
moment of relaxation in his final days.
While he continued to look beyond the glass to the outside, he couldn’t
help but see his own reflection as well.
His face was wrinkled, his hair white with age, his body left less than
perfect by the passage of time. A
definite change from when he first entered this office. But his expression showed tired satisfaction
as he reflected back on his tenure for a few more moments before the door
behind him burst open.
“That’s
it!” the young man bellowed. “Clean out
your desk, pack your box, you’re done!”
“Hallelujah,”
the man quietly said with a smile just before finishing off his drink. As he turned to face his proclaimer of the
obvious, he asked, “Is my replacement here?”
“On his way
in as we speak,” the younger man replied, an intuitive twinkle in his
eyes. He knew the old man was ready to
go and was honored to have the duty of being his final escort. He looked around the room in quick
inspection. It was as it should be,
everything in its place, in order and ready for his successor. Everything except for one item. He cocked his head in puzzled amusement as he
looked at the handwritten “Out of Order” sign on the coffeemaker. As he looked closer at it, he saw that the metal
pad under the pot was blackened and pot itself was cracked.
“What
happened?” he inquired.
“Ran it
into the ground,” the old man replied. “Lots
of long hours. He’s not going to need it
first thing and deserves a new one,
anyway.”
“Yes, he
does,” the younger man agreed as he sat down in the chair in front of the desk. “At least you didn’t trash the place before
you left. Some do.”
“Not my
style, “ the executive replied, then pointed to the coatrack and added, “Oh,
and speaking of style, I’m not wearing that out the door. I don’t care if it is tradition.”
The young
man looked back and saw the ceremonial garb, tattered and grey, looking more
like a dust-rag than a garment befitting the rank. He was a little disappointed by the choice,
but gave a conceding shake of his head and admitted , “It’s not required.”
“Good,” the
man said, then stood up and prepared to get another glass so that he could
share his final celebratory drink with his visitor. The younger man protested, saying that he
should be pouring for the administrator, not the other way around. The old man graciously smiled.
“I’ve been
catered to for my entire time here, barely able to do anything for myself,” he
explained. “Let me perform this last
cordial gesture.”
As he
walked over to get a second champagne flute, the younger man couldn’t help but
notice the changes in the older man since he had seen him last. While he knew the exuberance was still there,
most of the executive’s vitality had left him.
The job had taken its toll. It
was normal to see and sense with each changeover. While this was always a joyous time, the
younger man couldn’t help but always feel a twinge of sadness in these final
moments. He then brightened and asked,
“So, any observations you’d care to share?”
“It was
interesting,” the white-haired man replied as he poured the two drinks, then
looked to the man in mock puzzlement and asked, “Have you heard that one
before?”
“A few
times,” his visitor replied. “Good
interesting or bad interesting?”
“A good mix
of both,” the executive responded philosophically as he returned with the
champagne and gave one glass to his escort.
“Regrets?” was
the next question.
“Not really,”
the old man responded. “Some of the actions I had to take seemed to
be cruel and without explanation and some cursed my name in these last few days
without understanding the true nature of this position.”
“But
conversely,” the other man pointed out, “Other actions were greeted with
incredible happiness and were bestowed without consideration of person or their
place in things. Some might call it
arbitrary …”
“But, it’s
never arbitrary,” the old man said in unison with his final visitor, then
added, “There are always certainties, but they don’t always see how their
choices impact on even the most seemingly written in stone moments.” He then looked out on the falling snow. “I always tried to soften my blows when I had
to be less than kind in my actions. But
more often than not, the impact was the same.”
He looked back at the younger man with a gentle smile and concluded, “I
guess that would be my one regret.”
“Nature of
the beast,” the young man said. The
executive gave him a mildly surprised look, which brought further
explanation. “The position calls for
everything you described and more. You
don’t know that coming in, but you learn it as time goes by.”
“Oh, this
has definitely been an on the job training experience,” the old man observed,
making the younger man smile.
“Some
handle what’s required in stride, others – well, they destroy the place out of
frustration with what’s necessary. You
have handled this with wisdom and grace and it’s been an honor to be your guide
through this year.” The young man raised
his glass and toasted, “To a job well done and well handled.”
“I’ll bet
you say that to everyone,” the old man joked as the glasses clinked together.
“A select
few get the accolades. Sir.”
“I even get
a ‘Sir’,” the old man said jokingly.
“Considering I’m not the most senior in the room, that is indeed a
compliment.”
They both
took a sip of the champagne. The old man
closed his eyes and savored this last shimmering taste before downing the
contents of the crystal flute. The other
man also quickly consumed the liquid, then prepared to smash the glass into the
ornate fireplace off to the side of the room.
But the white-haired man stopped him.
“Somebody’s
going to have to clean that up before he gets here,” he said, taking both
glasses and placing them carefully on the front of the desk. “Let them have a few minutes without work
before the new regime.”
“They’re
all waiting to say goodbye,” the escort said with a smile. “Are you ready?”
“I am,” the
executive replied.
The young man nodded in
acknowledgment , then asked, “So, what are you wearing if you’re not wearing
‘that’?”, pointing a thumb toward the rejected article of clothing. The old man thought about it, then smiled and
raised his hands to show the slight tattering at the end of the sleeves of the
once pristine tailored shirt he wore.
“Frayed cuffs,” he replied, then
showed off similar wear on the trousers over slightly worn wingtips. “And scuffed shoes. As accurate a testimony of the job as the robes.”
“Indeed,” the other man said. He then saw the weariness increase in his
protégé, smiled, and waved him on to the door.
The executive gathered his strength and composure and walked out of his
office for the last time.
The staff which had served him so
well during his time there lined the hallway to the elevator and each said
their goodbyes as he passed by them and thanked them for their help and care. Most smiled, but there was one who didn’t who
caught his eye. She looked down as he
approached and he knew why. Some of the
actions he had to take had touched her life and hurt her. He stopped and waited for her to look up at
him, but she wouldn’t. He then gently
lifted her chin with his hand and she looked at him through tears.
He felt the pain she felt, relived
the events which caused it. He wanted to
apologize, but knew it would have no meaning for her. He gently smiled as he withdrew his hand and
said, “It gets better.”
The young woman, knowing his place
in things, asked simply, “How do you know?”
Well, there was a question. That was beyond his tenure, so how would he
know? With a puzzled look, he turned to
his escort, who smiled in silent response.
The executive then understood and replied, “I don’t know how, I just do.” This brought a small smile to the woman, who
took some comfort in this prediction.
This in turn brought him a final satisfaction with the job he had done,
and he continued on his journey down the hallway.
As they approached the elevator,
the doors opened and he saw his successor, who smiled and gave a small happy
shriek at seeing him. The old man tried
to echo it in comradery, but it lacked the genuine vitality of his young
replacement. As he and his escort entered
the elevator and the infant crawled out, he reached down and patted him on the
head and whispered, “All the best.” He
turned and watched as his replacement instinctively headed for what was his
office. As the door closed, he added, “Sorry
about the coffee pot. They’ll get you a
new one. You’re going to need it.”
The escort chuckled at this last
remark, which made the old man smile.
Again, the weariness caught up with him, but he recovered once
more. The two then rode in silence as
the elevator made its descent and the old man relived his year of life in all
its wonder. So much had happened in
those days and he grew up very quickly, able to manage and make the decisions,
both good and bad, which were required of all who sat in that chair. He reflected again on the question of whether
he had any regrets and he decided that, ultimately, he really had none. He was proud of his time in the office and
his escort knew this as well.
As the doors opened, the two were
greeted by the sounds of horns and bells, of people yelling and singing outside. The escort opened the door to the outside
world and the chilly air of the midnight hour caught the old man by
surprise. But, his escort was ready and
he reached over and grabbed a long grey coat of the finest cashmere and helped
the executive put it on, who couldn’t help but joke, “You’re really into the
symbolism of the grey garb, aren’t you?”
“I’m allowed,” the man
answered. “Ready?”
“Yes,” the old man replied. He then looked appreciatively at his guide
through the year and said, “Thank you for everything.”
“Thank you. You truly did an excellent job.”
The old man nodded at this last
compliment, then asked, “So, Father Time, where do I go from here?”
“Into history, 2015,” replied the legend
with a cordial smile. “Into history.”
With these last instructions, the
old man walked out and vanished into the night as his successor crawled up into
the chair and looked out the window on the darkened world.
