Executive Changeover

            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.