I spent the time until nine o’clock crying. Why? Feeling sorry for myself, I suppose. I’m certain that’s what Boss would think. He didn’t feel sorry for himself, he didn’t feel sorry for me, and he scolded me more than once for self-pity. Self-pity, he said, is the most demoralizing of all vices.
Just the same, I was feeling sorry for myself. I had always spatted with him, even way back when he broke my indentures- and made me a Free Person after I had run away from him. I found myself regretting every time I had answered him back, been impudent, called him names.
Then I reminded myself that Boss would not have liked me at all if I had been a worm, subservient, no opinions of my own. He had
to be what he was and I had to be what I was and we had lived for years in close association that had never, not once, involved even touching hands. For Friday, that is a record. One I arh not interested in surpassing.
I wonder if he knew, years ago when I first went to work for him, how quickly I would have swarmed into his lap had he invited it. He probably did know. As may be, even though I had never touched his hand, he was the only father I ever had.
The big conference room was very crowded. I had never seen even half that number at meals and some of the faces were strange to me. I concluded that some had been called in and had been able to arrive quickly. At a table at the front of the room Anna sat with a total stranger. Anna had folders of paper, a formidable terminal relay, and secretarial gear. The stranger was a woman about Anna’s age but with a stern schoolmarmish look instead of Anna’s warmth.
At two seconds past nine the stranger rapped loudly on the table. “Quiet, please! I am Rhoda Wainwright, Executive Vice-Chairman of this company and chief counsel to the late Dr. Baldwin. As such I am now Chairman pro tem and paymaster for the purpose of winding up our affairs. You each know that each of you was bound to this company by contract to Dr. Baldwin personallyÄ”
Had I ever signed such a contract? I was bemused by “the late Dr. Baldwin.” Was that really Boss’s name? How did it happen that his name matched my commonest nom de guerre? Had he picked it? That was so very long ago.
“Äsince you are all now free agents. We are an elite outfit and Dr. Baldwin anticipated that every free company in North America would wish to recruit from our ranks once his death released you. There are hiring agents in each of the small conference rooms and in the lounge. As your names are called please come forward to receive and sign for your packet. Then examine it at once but do not, repeat do not, stand at this table and attempt to discuss it. For discussion you must wait until all the others have received their termination packets. Please remember that I have been up all nightÄ”
Hire out with some other free company at once? Did I have to? Was I broke? Probably, except for what was left of that two hundred
thousand bruins I had won in that silly lotteryÄand most of that I probably owed to Janet on her Visa card. Let me see, I had won 230.4 grams of fine gold, deposited with MasterCard as Br. 200,000 but credited as gold at that day’s fix. I had drawn thirty-six grams of that as cash andÄ But I must reckon my other account, too, the one through Imperial Bank of Saint Louis. And the cash and the Visa credit I owed Janet. And Georges ought to let me pay half ofÄ Someone was calling my name.
It was Rhoda Wainwright, looking vexed. “Please be alert, Miss Friday. Here is your packet and sign here to receipt for it. Then move aside to check it.”
I glanced at the receipt. “I’ll sign after I’ve checked it.”
“Miss Friday! You’re holding up the proceedings.”
“I’ll step aside. But I won’t sign until I confirm that the packet matches the receipt list.”