When It's Time to Move On

Door 1 - Chapter 8 - New Starts

"Hello, Mr. Littman. Thanks for the house, it's been great. Am I needed back at work?"

"Exactly. You're sharp, dear boy, and we need you back quickly. I hope you've had fun these past couple of weeks."

"Believe me, sir. It's felt much longer than that", said Harris earnestly, "I look forward to it."

"Perfect, I expect you back on Monday. See you then," he was in the process of hanging up when Mr. Littman's voice urged. "Oh wait, I forgot. Not that I minded you taking time off but I feel it's better if you compartmentalize your work better. So I've decided to hire you an assistant, someone who can make your work easier."

"As it is, sir, I feel the same way. I just might have someone," said Harris before hanging up, his sight directed outside the doors, towards the beach.

There were no ventures outside that day. His main concern was meeting Bob to talk about his appointment. Mr. Littman had made it all easier for him. He'd initially planned on worrying about what job to assign Bob to later. 

Conducting interviews would simply be a formality to appease his boss. As far as Harris was concerned, the position had already been filled. Trouble was, the person for the job wasn't making his presence known.

Harris waited the entire day for Bob to arrive. He'd expected for him to come by the evening at most but the rocks where Bob was usually perched on remained unoccupied. He couldn't think of any reason why Bob would deliberately be a no-show. An opportunity for a job should have lifted his spirits up, it provided a chance to regain his family's respect, after all. By the time night arrived, he had started to get worried.

Harris went by the beach but found no one around. He scoped the remainder of the town the next couple of hours without much luck. The town was packed. It was as if they'd been placed out to make his search more difficult. A rumbling sound in his stomach made him realize how hungry he was. The closest restaurant was the same ritzy place he'd been forced to visit every night. Even the thought of the Crab bisque made him feel queasy by now.

Then he saw the silhouette of a man with the unmistakable shadow of a hat resting on his head. It had to be Bob. As Harris came closer, he saw that Bob's stance remained just as tottery as ever. Head stooped, shoulders hunched and the definite touch of failure adamant. Bob gave no indication of an acknowledgment as he stood beside Harris, staring dejectedly into the restaurant.

"Feeling hungry?" Harris asked softly.

"Haven't felt much of anything recently, truth be told," replied Bob, not seeming remotely abashed by the sudden arrival.

"That's a good thing sometimes. There was a point when I felt so much I just wanted it all to stop."

"And did it?"

"Yes."

"So, isn't it better if I stay this way?"

"No, because once when it did stop, all I wanted was to feel again."

"Isn't that the problem with all of us?" Bob asked, his stare still resolutely fixed on the restaurant window. "We're never happy with anything, always making mistakes."

"I prefer to think of mistakes as helping us figure out what truly makes us happy."

"I'm glad you know what you want."

"Who says I do?"

"Then why're you here?"

"You know why."

"I'm not taking the job," said Bob dismally.

"Actually I was here to get something to eat," Harris said sarcastically. "But I guess now I have two reasons."

"Why do you even want me? You'll just be making a mistake."

"Maybe I will be, but there's only one way to find out. Making mistakes isn't always a bad thing."

"I managed risks for years, son. And I can tell you it always is."

"Didn't you meet your wife by mistake?" Harris asked, making Bob finally tear his eyes away from the restaurant. "And you called that the one thing you did right in your life."

"That's...a different matter."

"Perhaps, but I still don't know why you won't take the job."

"You don't know how it is, son. Failure. How it completely destroys you. Have you ever felt as if you were a man dying, waiting for the end?"

"...you'd be surprised."

"I just can't go back! I lost so much. I can't go through all that over again."

"You don't have to, and you won't. But you can't expect things to fix themselves. Think of this as an opportunity to make amends in your life. Otherwise, you'll just be standing out here, waiting for someone to let you in."

"I like you, son. But, I just don't know how I can force myself to not be afraid again."

"You can't force it, it just happens. And if you want it to happen, you need to make it happen."

"Always have an answer, don't you?" said Bob chuckling still. "That's what I miss about youth. The surety."

"Look, Bob, I'm not saying what you went through wasn't tough. But I can't do anything about it. What I can do is give you a job."

"I'm warning you already, you'll be regretting this."

"So is that a yes?"

"As close as I can come to it," said Bob.

Harris clapped him on the shoulder, relieved at his decision.

"What do you say we go in and have a bite? Toast to our new starts?"

"Err, not in there, maybe someplace else."

"You sure? They belt a great tune."

"No, I really don't think so," Bob said.

Harris was too pleased with Bob's decision to argue. His spirits were further bolstered by the prospect of finally gaining release from the shackles of the town. All those weeks spent having the fear grow inside of him were gone. As he toasted to the new starts he and Bob were about to take, later that night at the beach house, Harris knew he meant every word.