CLEAN
Mar 25
The two weeks after I had successfully prevented my so-called 'best friend' from stealing my new start-up company out from under me had been very hectic, very busy. The conglomerate of lettuce growers in California had been brought back to the table for new negotiations on fully automating their industry, from the preparation of growing fields to planting to harvesting, all the way through distribution. They were not happy with the new numbers it would cost them. I wasn't happy they tried to throw me over to go with the low-ball offer my friend offered to try to oust me. And, my good buddy wasn't happy when I pulled all the access codes needed to make the entire program work, leaving him looking ridiculous. Pretty much a full-service circle jerk.
Now, though, agreements were reached, a new schedule developed, software updated, and, yes, I still had the access codes where only I could get to them. That being only in my head. It was a monumental task. Heads had rolled in the conglomerate that had to be replaced and the new personnel brought up to speed. Changes had been made in my (previously our) personnel that had to be replaced and trained in their new jobs. Finally, things were showing positive signs of being able to operate not only smoothly but with higher than expected efficiency.
After parking in the executive area of the open-sided parking garage, I walked a short way up the ramp to the covered walkway to the fourth-floor access to the office suites. It wasn't what you would call dark in this area but it wasn't the most well lit either. I was surprised when I heard the voice behind me and recognized it immediately.
"You even got your old parking space back. Talk about landing on your feet." His voice was ragged, his eyes hollow and ringed giving evidence to having slept very little, and his hands were lightly shaking.
"Do you feel like I robbed you of it?" I asked, "It didn't have to be this way. In my book, you made your bed."
"I saw a path to having it all. I was putting in every effort. I figured if I could get it all, I should."
"So, how'd that work out for you podna?"
"Not too good. It's not going to work out too good for you either." He reached behind his back and drew the pistol he had in the waistband of his pants. He pointed it at me with his hands trembling. Tears were beginning to well up in his eyes, I knew he didn't have it in him to actually shoot me.
"Listen," I said as I walked toward him, "you screwed up, bad. If you pull that trigger, you will screw up worse."
"So what? I got nothing left."
"Tell you what," I said as I reached out and turned the trembling hand with the gun away from me, then removed it from his hand, "my Dad always taught me everyone deserves a second chance. You get your act clean and I'll give you a job. It won't be a high-level job but it should be good enough to live on. You even think about stepping out of line and that'll be all she wrote."
The shaking dissolved into a quiet sobbing as he leaned his head against my shoulder. "I can't believe you would even consider doing that," he managed to softly whisper, "thank you."
"I don't abandon family... or friends. Don't make me regret this. Take two days to get yourself together, then call me." I slipped the gun in my coat pocket, turned, and walked on into the building. Having done my part, whether he makes it now depends on him.