Speed of the Sound of Loneliness Ch. 01

"How does Molly feel about all this change?" he asked innocently.

"I haven't seen Molly since I left. I talked to her on the phone a couple of times, but nothing to do with my health or what I was doing. She knows I was off on stress leave; that's about it."

"Oh ... sorry. I shouldn't have been so nosey." he apologized.

"No need. I've been thinking about seeing her to see how she's doing. I'm not sure about that. Maybe I just want to rub her nose in it a bit when she sees what changes I've made."

"Well, she couldn't help but be impressed. I want to see you every three months for the next year, Jack. I want to make sure everything is stable. Here's a card for the clinic; get them to take a blood sample each time a few days before your appointment, OK?"

"Sure. Listen, Dr. Chapman ... Vic. I can't thank you enough for your help. You got me going in the right direction finally. I just wish I'd come to you a lot sooner."

"It's never too late, Jack. Good luck with your job hunt and plan on seeing me at year end." he smiled.

It was another high. I had put a stop to my deteriorating health. I wouldn't ever be perfect again and I would always need medication for my blood pressure and cholesterol at least, but I felt better and more optimistic about my future. Now I needed something to do to earn some money to make that part of my future better.

I had answered an ad for a new position at a plastics manufacturer in Drayton; about twenty miles north of town. It was apparently a fast growing business and needed some people to get their systems under control. I got a phone call in mid-September that they were ready to interview and could I make myself available on Thursday, two days from now, at 10:30 am. I called them back immediately and told them I would be there. A couple of weeks earlier, I had bought an old computer and printer in a garage sale with idea that at least I could have a word processor and some basic functions available. When I booted it up after I got it home, I discovered it had an older version of Office and with Word, Excel, and an early version of a data base, I had everything I needed for a home office base.

I resisted an internet hookup for a while, but recognized I would need an e-mail address sooner or later and signed on with the phone company for a basic high-speed service. I typed up what I thought was a resume and printed it out; looking it over carefully for any errors. I had something to offer when it came to organizational skills as well as being pretty handy with computer based programs; particularly those that used a Windows base. I had no idea what to expect. The last job interview I'd been to was nearly thirty years earlier and it consisted of showing my high school certificate and demonstrating I could keep records accurately. I wasn't exactly prepared for the new business world. I thought my best option was to go with honesty and tell them what I could do and what I couldn't do.

I was fifteen minutes early getting to the new Interstate Plastics plant and instead of sitting in the car, I decided to walk around the site to see what I could see. It was new, so there wasn't much to judge about the neatness of the site. It had a rail siding with room for about five, maybe six cars. It had five truck bays and a large turn-around area for the truckers. It had been well thought out I felt. I was encouraged. About five minutes before my interview, I walked into the office on the main floor and asked to see Mr. Rothmann.

Aser Rothmann walked out from the corridor leading to the back offices and smiled as he saw me stand. He was a stocky, thickly built man with powerful looking arms and a thick neck. His hair was going gray and I guessed his age to be mid-forties. I was wearing my one and only blue blazer; new for the occasion. I had a light blue oxford shirt and tan khaki pants with my new dress Rockports. For the first time since my daughter's wedding, I wore a tie. Rothmann, on the other hand, wore a forest green polo shirt, tan khakis and a pair of Top-siders. I needn't have worried about my dress for the interview. He introduced himself and asked me to follow him down the corridor to his office. It was large and simply decorated; neat and tidy I noticed.

"Please sit down, Mr. Tompkins." he gestured to a comfortable chair in a semi-circle of chairs with a coffee table in the middle. "May I call you Jack?"

"Of course, sir." I quickly replied; probably betraying my nervousness.

"Relax, Jack. You can call me Aser. We're pretty informal around here." he smiled.

We chatted for a few minutes about what I had been doing at SandStacker and what specific skills and experience I had on systems and logistics. He didn't take notes, but I got the sense he wasn't missing anything either. I felt the interview was going pretty well and he was asking the kind of questions that would bring him the answers he needed to know and not useless stuff. I wasn't really ready for the one question he asked near the end of the interview.

"Jack, what would you say is the most important value when a company is buying its raw materials?"

I sat back and gave the question some thought before I answered.

"I think ... no ... I know that too often companies make buying decisions on price alone. I saw it all the time at SandStacker. The problem is that the money saved on the purchase price was usually thrown away on the shop floor when the product didn't perform. I don't pretend to know the resin business, sir, but I'm betting not all resins are created equal and the trick is to get the balance that gives you the best cost out the back door as finished goods." I sat back waiting for his response; hoping I hadn't stepped on some sensitive toes.

Aser smiled and nodded. "Couldn't have said it better myself. Jack, I'd like you to meet Keith Slocum. He's our Production Manager; an ex-Brit and very knowledgeable. I want him to get a feel for you as well. Do you mind?"

"No, of course not, sir." I said quickly.

Rothmann picked up his phone, punched a single button and waited for a moment. "Keith, I have a candidate in my office. Can you spare some time for him now?" There was a brief pause. "Great! Come to my office and you can meet in the board room."

"Keith will be here in a moment. Do you have any questions for me, Jack?"

"Uh yes ... the job description was pretty vague and I wondered if you could tell me what your expectations are?"

"Good question. In fact, it will depend on the skills of the best candidate. We need someone with good organizational skills, good communications with various departments, some negotiating experience and generally the type of person who would fit well into what I call the "Interstate Culture". That's a fancy way of saying that he gets along well with people." he smiled.

"Well ... Aser, I feel pretty comfortable with everything except the negotiating part. I haven't done that before; the boss did everything. I don't think I'm the kind of person who would do well at beating down a supplier. I always tried to make them want to do well for us."

"Jack, I think you're going to do just fine. I don't beat up suppliers either. I just don't want them taking advantage of us. Some of them are among the world's largest corporations and they get funny ideas in their head sometimes. The resin business is a loosely formed cartel of like-minded chemical companies. You don't negotiate with them as much as you seduce them." he laughed.

I breathed a little easier except for that bit about my doing just fine. Did that mean I had the job? I hadn't even asked how much it paid. I had just about opened my mouth to ask when a slightly built younger man walked into the office.

We made the obligatory introductions with a minute's small talk and then Keith ushered me out toward a large, open but windowless room. There was a large table with at least a dozen chairs around it and the walls had pictures of products and samples were displayed in glass cabinets along the end wall. Like everything else in the place, it was new and the leather and fabric covered chairs were very comfortable. Keith and I chatted about business philosophy for several minutes. I couldn't detect any points of disagreement, but maybe he was playing his cards close to his vest. I found him easy to talk to and we certainly agreed on the need for back and forth communications to stay on top of things. He was anxious to see some systems implementation in the near future for both production planning and materials management. We chatted about what the key requirements were and I already had an idea in the back of my mind what might fit the bill without breaking the bank.

We talked for about twenty minutes before he looked at his watch and apologized; excusing himself for a Shop Supervisor's meeting. He escorted me back to Rothmann's office and I thanked him for his time. He smiled, nodded to Aser and left the office, heading toward the shop floor.

"Well, congratulations Jack, you must have made a favorable impression on Keith. He just gave me the 'thumbs up'; English style." he grinned.

"I like him." I said simply. "He's sharp and sensible. He was listening to ideas without any preconceptions."

Rothmann smiled and we sat down again. "I suppose you're wondering what this job pays." he said.

"The thought had crossed my mind." I smiled.

"Well, the truth is, I don't know yet. The reason is, the more the candidate is able to do, the more he'll earn. I'd like you to meet with our Sales Manager, Chuck Freeman. I suggested he take you to lunch. He's another key part of this business and you need to know what he's up to as well. Are you OK for time?"

"Yes ... I'm fine. Thanks for all this attention. But I do have one other question, if it's OK?" I said.

"Shoot."

"Does my age have any bearing on my chances here?"

"None. First of all, age discrimination is illegal, even though it's hard to prove. Secondly, I want the best person for the job; regardless. Out in the engineering department I have a man who's 72 years old. He specializes in die design and modification. He's a valuable employee and we would be lost without him." he concluded.

I guess I must have smiled at that. There was one more thing.

"Just so there's no misunderstanding, Aser. This is exactly the kind of company I want to work for. I'll just assume that the pay is in line with the work."

Aser Rothmann smiled and nodded. "Come along ... let's find Chuck." And with that we headed back out to the lobby and the receptionist paged Mr. Freeman. When he came into the lobby, I was surprised. He was a redheaded bowling ball. If he was five and a half feet tall, he was five and a half feet wide. His brush cut hair was bright red and his age appeared to be mid-thirties. I shook his fat little hand and we headed out the door to his SUV. We traveled for about ten minutes, pulling into a ranch-style restaurant just off the main highway. Chuck knew everyone in the place and everyone knew Chuck; including a number of the customers.

We settled into a booth and Chuck ordered a club soda and a Cob Salad. I had an ice tea and the Spinach Salad.

"You don't have to order a salad just 'cause I am." Chuck smiled. "I'm on my tenth or eleventh different diet; still trying to lose weight." he sighed. "It's a fuckin' waste of time. I'm goin' to get them doctors to carve it off me; just like the whalers did." he laughed. "In the meantime, I'm pretendin' I'm a rabbit."

"I guess I can count myself lucky." I said thoughtfully.

"You lose a bunch of weight?" he asked, looking up with interest.

"Yah ... from nearly 210 down to less than 180 and still working at it."

"Shit man ... I can only dream of 210." he said wistfully.

We talked for a while about health and fitness and it was obvious it was weighing on Chuck's mind. He knew he needed to do something about it, but he was frustrated with all the free advice and miracle cures being thrown at him. Finally, he asked me the question I expected.

"What got you goin' in the right direction?"

"My wife threw me out. She was tired of me. Said I bored the hell out of her." I deadpanned.

Chuck laughed heartily, nearly choking on his salad.

"Shit man ... maybe that's the solution. I'll just get the old trout to throw me out and I'll be OK."

We got down to brass tacks a couple of minutes later and it didn't take long to figure out that underneath Chuck's rough exterior was a very sharp brain. He understood selling value and not falling prey to the price point vultures. The more I talked to him, the more I could see why Aser Rothmann wanted this guy as his head of sales. He knew how to sell and understood the strategy of his products and his customers. I got a stronger and stronger feeling that I really wanted this job. All of a sudden, the salary wasn't that important.

Chuck dropped me off at the parking lot and I went inside to thank Aser for the thorough interview as well as the lunch. He was out and I asked the receptionist to thank him for me. I could call him tomorrow she suggested. He would be in all morning. I thanked her and headed out to my car and began the drive home. Along the way I wondered what chance I had for this job. I wanted it very badly; more than I thought I would want any job. I was excited that I even had a chance, but I was afraid to get my hopes up. I would call Aser in the morning and thank him; hoping I would get a clue from him then on how well I did.

I walked into my apartment later that afternoon and noticed the light flashing on my answering machine. I looked down and saw that there were two messages and decided they could wait a few minutes. I wanted to change out of my dress clothes into something more comfortable. I pulled on a new pair of Wranglers and dark blue polo shirt and headed for the kitchen. I pulled out my pitcher of unsweetened Ice Tea, poured a glass and headed for the answering machine.

The first message caught me by surprise. It was Molly and she wanted me to call her tonight after she got home from work. The number she left was the same number we had at the old house. I hadn't been by in several weeks and I didn't know if she had sold the house or not. Maybe that's what the call was about. Or, maybe it was about one of the kids. That wasn't likely. They knew my number; I talked to them a couple of times a month. I'd just have to wait and see what she wanted.

The second message was from Aser Rothmann and I could feel my heart freeze in my chest when I heard his voice. The message was short and sweet; very sweet. He apologized for not being able to say goodbye today, but asked if I could come and meet with him tomorrow or the first day it was convenient. He had a job he wanted to offer me. I thumped back down in the chair beside the phone and just stared off into space. How did this happen? What gods were riding on my shoulder all of a sudden? I'd gone from the asshole that Molly cast away to a guy with a bright future. I had a new body and new wardrobe and now I had a new job at a place I really wanted to be. I called Interstate's office and left a message for Aser that I would be there tomorrow morning at nine am if that wasn't too early.

This called for a celebration. I walked to my kitchen pantry, pulled out a bottle of Cabernet I'd been saving for a special occasion and over the next two and a half hours, drank the whole damn thing and enjoyed every last drop. It wasn't the smartest thing I could have done. I had conveniently forgotten that I needed to phone Molly after dinner and here was I without anything in my stomach except a bottle of Cabernet and it was almost six o'clock. I decided not to panic and made a pot of coffee and began to prepare my evening meal. Molly could wait until I was good and ready to phone her. It was about eight o'clock when the phone rang and I put down the magazine I was reading and picked it up.

"Jack ... it's me, Molly." she said when I answered. "I left a message to call. Did you get it?"

"Yah ... I got it. I was busy and was going to call you shortly." I lied.

"Jack ... there's a couple of things I need to talk to you about. I don't want to do it on the phone. Can we get together somewhere?"

"Yah ... I guess so. I have to go out tomorrow, but I'll be home after dinner. Where do you want to meet?" My voice was very non-committal and I wasn't giving her any more information that she absolutely needed.

"Why don't we meet at "Bruno's?" she suggested, naming a fairly quiet diner not far from our old house.

"OK ... what time?"

"Seven thirty?"

"OK ... see you at seven thirty at Bruno's. Bye." And with that I hung up. It was about as cold a conversation as I could have produced. I was damned if I was going to sound anxious to see her. She was in for a big enough surprise when she saw me anyway.

I headed for Drayton just after eight. Once again, I was determined not to be late. I was almost vibrating I was so excited about this job. I just hoped it was something worthwhile and that the salary would be enough to keep me solvent. I thought about my meeting with Molly that night and I wanted to plan something to really catch her off-guard. I would wear some of my new clothes and I wondered what he reaction would be when she saw me. I knew I looked very different from the last time we had been together and I suspected she was in for a shock. I also wondered just how much to tell her about my new life; my exercise, my health, my diet and now my new job. I guess I'd just have to play that card when the time came.

I was more than twenty minutes early by my estimation and so I stopped at a little coffee shop and ordered a decaf latte to give me something to do and kill some time. It didn't help. I gulped the coffee and headed for the plant. You never know; there might have been a road block or something. I sat in the lot for about ten minutes before going inside and I was surprised to see Aser and another man sitting in the lobby, chatting to each other. I smiled as Aser rose and addressed me:

"Jack, good to see you again. Thank you for coming back so soon." He turned to the man beside him.

"Jack this is Phil Tupper; our Controller. He's the financial brains of Interstate and my right hand man. I wanted him to meet with us when we talked. Shall we go in?" I shook Phil's hand and followed them into Aser's office. Aser closed the door behind us and we sat in the now familiar comfortable chairs around the coffee table.

"Jennifer will bring some coffee and biscuits in shortly." he said.

"Well Jack, I'm sure you're wondering what we have in mind for you and think we owe you an explanation for the unusual way we hire people." Aser began. "This is still a small business but it's growing very quickly and we need to get a grip on it quickly before we get ourselves into trouble. Phil will be the first to tell you that we are stretched too thin in administrative staff and that we don't have the systems or resources yet to haul ourselves out of that trap. When we interviewed you, we were looking for someone to look after basic purchasing and maybe some shipping logistics. When Keith and I talked, we realized you were capable of more than that. In addition, you had some ideas about store-bought systems that we could implement to get us off and running in a hurry. We need a lot of help and we think you can get us going in the right direction." Aser stopped and paused for a moment. He was about to begin again when there was a knock at the door and a young lady entered with a tray of mugs and a plate of biscuits. She set the tray down on the coffee table and stood as Aser introduced her.

"Jack, this is Jennifer Sullivan and she heads up our customer service department. Jennifer has been with us since the origin of the company and is very good at her job. Jennifer, this is Jack Tompkins; who, if we're lucky, will be joining us here." he grinned.