Awakening, 2nd edition

by Kuili, Ray N.

  Brandon. Honest, decent, reliable Brandon . Good ol ’ Brandon . A real man. A rare breed. A stern decency, an intolerance to all kinds of games, a straightforwardness bordering on rudeness, and so on. Unfortunately, on top of all of that he ’s also a good husband. He has that written all over him. Family man, deep moral values, blah, blah, blah . . . So forget Brandon . It ’s a lost cause and it ’d be a total waste of precious time. He really will vote for whoever he thinks would make the best leader. Funny, but perhaps he will be the only one voting that way. No, wait, there ’s also Kevin.

  Mr. Righteous—so righteous that sometimes you want to puke listening to him. Kevin, who ’s been proclaiming straight -face d things that are at best suitable only for a PR-oriented booklet on corporate values. Kevin , who last year lost his entire family in a horrible accident and who doesn ’t go beyond dropping vague hints when he talks about it. Kevin, for whom you just want to vote out of pity for his tragic loss. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin . . . Yes. Kevin is the next target, since Ross is not around, being busy playing a superhero. Of course, going after Kevin has to be done while keeping an eye on Paul. Losing a nearly secured vote is not an option.

  Now, assuming that the attack on Kevin is successful, how many votes do we get? We get four votes, even if you count Ross who hasn ’t been persuaded yet. Sorry, but it’s not enough. It ’s that simple. Not enough. Okay, suppose Alex becomes a believer too. Even if getting there requires some unconventional approaches. That ’s five. And five sounds so much better. It ’s not perfect, but it ’s still a much better number. You add on top of that Ed with his little notebook and things don ’t look so bad anymore. It ’s tough getting even there, but it ’s worth it. And no price is too high to pay for this victory.

  Okay, time’s up. Five minutes is not an eternity but , boy, these guys were tense. Especially, Paul. His mood was dangerously bitter.

  But when she walked back into the room, it became apparent that she had underestimated the damage that can be done in five minutes.

  It was obvious that a bloody flight had taken place. The gamecocks had managed to peck each other badly during this time ; however , all the threatening clucking and attacking swoops had led to a rather unexpected outcome. Kevin stood proudly on his perch in the utmost complacent mood. As for Paul, bitter, sarcastic, sharp-tongued Paul was gloomily grooming his depleted feathers. It wasn ’t clear what exactly had happened in this sunny room, but there was little doubt about the fact that it was Paul who had taken the beating. And a bad one. Kevin the Melancholic had somehow found words that had worked magic on Paul the Roughneck.

  Joan had no choice but to enquir e in the most innocent tone whether they ’d had fun. Both cockerels assured her hotly that they had most definitely enjoyed each other ’s company, although had missed her charming presence. Joan smiled and delighted them with the announcement that she was not about to leave them anytime soon. Next, she lowered herself gracefully into the chair and, having secured the most strategic spot between the two, got ready to follow her plan.

  “So what do you guys make of this disappearance?” she probed.

  The question was obviously directed at both men, but her eyes, her soft , gentle , understanding eyes, spent a moment longer on Kevin ’s face.

  “I hope they ’re all right, ” Kevin said contritely. “I really do.”

  Joan nodded.

  “Yes. I hope they didn ’t get into any trouble.”

  Paul decided to join the conversation.

  “Now suppose they find them—”

  “They won’t.”

  The sound of a familiar voice behind them made them all jump in their seats. At the door, smiling but looking as though they needed a shower , stood Robert and Stella.

  Paul was the first to break the silence.

  “Well,” he said. “How nice of you to drop in. Sounds like we can call off the rescue mission.”

  “We’re so glad you ’re all right, ” added Joan, giving Paul a slightly reproachful look. “We were really worried about you.”

  And so everyone came back.

  Michael—as imperturbable as always, in the company of unusually lively Ross. Brandon and Chris—quietly discussing something. Alex—cold satisfaction all over his face. Alan—unusually gloomy and ten minutes later than everyone else.

  Upon their arrival, each one enquir ed about the details of the adventure. Everyone was given the same story.

  “. . . The engine died, we managed to get to the shore, spent the night in the woods, found a road in the morning, hitched a ride, thirty minutes later were here . We ’re fine ; we really appreciate your concern and everything you ’ve done . Sorry about interrupting the process . . .”

  While conveying this story, Stella was smiling most adorably, while Robert was twitching his mouth contemptuously and occasionally expressing his extremely low opinion of the local powerboats. Paul kept heaving bored sighs signaling that he was tiring of hearing the same story over and over again. Ed, who materialized out of thin air right after Alan ’s arrival, sat in the corner taking notes, his face completely expressionless. The atmosphere in the r oom was reminiscent of a party at which the bored g uests are doing their best to hide their lack of enthusiasm from an overly enthusiastic host.

  Finally, everyone was in the room.

  “Let’s get started, ” Chris said , as if nothing had occurred . “Things happen. It ’s good to know that everyone ’s safe, but now it ’s time to get back to business.”

  He glanced at his watch.

  “Before lunch we have enough time for the drawing and one speech. Everything else will come after lunch.”

  His voice was thick with upbeat confident tones.

  “We’ll have to put in some extra hours, but we ’ve got no choice. We must finish what we ’ve started.”

  “It’s not going to work ,” Alex informed him, sonorously.

  Chris frowned.

  “Why?”

  “Because the last person will end up presenting in the evening. There ’s no way he ’ll get the same level of attention as earlier presenters. Especially after all the water racing. We also need to prepare for tomorrow and there will be no time left for that at all, unless we don ’t get any sleep.”

  “This is—”

  “And there’s more. Some of us, ” his hand made a wide gesture towards Stella, “spent last night on the ground in the woods. Give people some rest. We ’ve got to adjust the plan.”

  Chris shook his head.

  “I understand the challenge, ” he said, his cheerleading spirit evaporating rapidly, “and trust me, I care about the others as much as you do. You think I ’m thrilled at the idea of being stuck in this room till midnight? But it ’s too la te to change anything.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Listen, in case you ’ve forgotten, it took us a day—an entire day—to come up with this process. Can you offer anything better in five minutes?”

  Alex folded his hands.

  “I didn’t say we need to change t he process. Just shorten the speeches. Twenty minutes instead of forty would do.”

  “He’s right, ” said Brandon .

  “You’ve nailed it!” Ross chimed in, for some reason glancing askance at Michael.

  “Then I rest my case, ” Chris said with a wide smile. “Brilliant. Twenty minutes then.”

  Alex nodded curtly as if approving of Chris’s decision. Whether because of this patronizing nod or for some other reason, Chris ’s cheerfulness disappeared completely.

  “Same goes for tomorrow, ” Stella said , abruptly breaking the pause that was just about to get a tad too long.

  “What’s that?” Chris looked lost.

  “Twenty minutes per speech, ” clarified Stella. “That should be more than enough to talk about our future plans anyway. Plus we go to bed earlier.”

  “Plus this would give us extra time before 5:00 p.m., ” Michael said, smiling subtly.

  Stella looked at him thoughtfully.<
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  “That too,” she agreed.

  “I don’t mind, ” said Alex, as if they all were waiting for his verdict.

  “Fine,” Chris reacted promptly. “If there ’re no other objections, let ’s get started.”

  The draw went flawlessly and quick ly . Although it resembled the previous one, the ease and humor were clearly missing. After Brandon ’s speech , which somehow felt very businesslike , they left for lunch. Peace and happiness returned to them over the lunch table. Only Alan was more serious than usual and Paul wasn ’t livening up the discussion with his bitter remarks.

  Stella gave an accurate and jolly description of the night spent in the forest : baked mushrooms, cool air and her acquaintance with a monstrous beast known as a squirrel. Robert kept dropping his comments into her story, making it even more engaging by hinting about Stella ’s adventurous spirit and her persistent attempts to leave him alone in the woods.

  Chris shot back with a long story of their rescue effort, inspired, organized and guided by Alex. Despite the soft humor he infused into the chronicle —or perhaps because of it —the story suggested that they were all truly worried about the wellbeing of the two missing people. Alex only laughed occasionally while listening to Chris and , once the story was over, offered his own account, which included the frightening discovery of the abandoned boat and the horrifying theories he and Alan kept bouncing off each other on the way back. In response, Stella dropped her playful tone and in all seriousness thanked everyone for their help and care. Joan requested a story from Alan, but he declined so dryly that she backed off immediately.

  By the time they went back, the group mood was a healthy mixture of benevolence and friendly teasing, just like the first day ’s atmosphere. Only Paul and Alan stayed somewhat gloomy.

  “It is time, it is time, ” Chris sang jovially. “Who ’s next?”

  “You are,” said Brandon . “You were right after me —have you forgotten?”

  “Ah, yes,” Chris cheered up , turning around. “The food was too good.”

  Paul snorted loudly.

  “What?” Chris turned to him.

  Paul grinned.

  “Don’t try too hard, it ’s all right.”

  Chris looked completely puzzled.

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged perplexedly under Paul ’s prickly stare and headed for the central table that for the last two days had been serving them as a podium.

  “No kidding, ” Paul said to his back. “Like you had no clue you were next.”

  Chris froze.

  “I didn’t, ” he said , turning back. “To be precise, I knew, but it just escaped my mind.”

  Paul cracked a slanted smile.

  “Whatever.”

  “Things have changed here, ” Stella whispered, leaning towards Robert.

  Robert returned a scarcely noticeable nod, his eyes on Chris, who looked like he was still considering a proper response. The Chris of yesterday would ’ve snapped back by now. Finally he made his mind and a wide disarming smile decorated his face.

  “I know it’s tough to believe, but really, I had no clue. We ’ve had enough to worry about today.”

  “Really?” Paul wondered quite naturally. “And what exactly did we worry about?”

  “I think you know.”

  Paul looked genuinely confused.

  “No I don’t. Would you mind enlightening me?”

  “Rob and Stella, ” Chris reminded him, demonstrating angelic patience. “They were missing this morning. We were worried about them. We went looking for them. At least some of us did.”

  “Ah . . .” Paul slapped his forehead loudly. “Sure! That mysterious disappearance. Of course, I remember. You ’re right, some people were worried. Not me of course, but some were . Now , remind me, what does that have to do with you?”

  Chris’s patience went down from the level of an angel to that of a human.

  “I’m not sure I ’m following you. What exactly are you insinuating? What ’s bitten you?”

  “What’s bitten . . . There ’re some bloodsuckers fluttering around. Relax, I ’m not insinuating anything. Just don ’t give me this crap about you losing your sleep over them going AWOL. Who was that guy who kept telling us this morning to sit tight and do nothing until tomorrow? And now you ’re the who one saved the day. If it weren ’t for you, they ’d still be eating their mushrooms.”

  “Listen—” Chris lost his last ounce of patience.

  “That’s enough, ” said Michael in an even voice. “Paul, what ’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” muttered Paul. “I ’m just fed up.”

  “With?”

  “With all that . . . Never mind. I ’m good.”

  “Good,” Michael showed no interest in further clarification. “Then why don ’t we all listen to whatever Chris has to say. Otherwise twenty minutes won ’t do it.”

  Paul muttered something under his breath, but stopped at that.

  Chris began with some power chords. In three or four wide strokes , he painted a vivid picture of the breathtaking changes towards which his company was heading with unstoppable for ce thanks to his bold, restless and nearly heroic efforts. A whole swarm of managerial buzzwords flew in: “New approaches ,” “A mazing results ,” “Fantastic breakthroughs ,” “Calculated risk ” . . .

  “He’s at his best, ” whispered Stella.

  “He always is, ” Robert said with a trace of irony.

  But three minutes down the road, something went wrong. Some odd unfitting gaps began appearing between well-crafted sentences. Shining metaphors grew dim. Some miserable , “Uh . . .” and “Eh . . .” crawled in. Once another two minutes had passed it became apparent that Chris, indeed , was not at his best. His smooth measured speech turned into jerking, clumsy storytelling worthy of a podium-frightened amateur. Chris was breaking off constantly, looking for words and sometimes even stopping and pondering perplexedly for a few seconds. No, he was not at his best. Rather, he was giving his worst performance to date .

  The contrast was so stunning that ten minutes into this misery the audience, represented by Alex, lost its patience and asked for some explanations.

  “Are you all right?” he asked sympathetically, almost softly. “What ’s going on? Is it because of Paul?”

  Chris made no attempt to put a good face on things. Instead, he halted his painful monologue and , with an air of relief , explained himself.

  As it turned out, Paul had nothing to do with it. Disagreements and conflicts are part of life, especially if you ’re a manager, so no, it ’s not about Paul, who , by the way , didn ’t say anything really bad . . . Chris ’s soul was tormented by something else —namely by a serious imperfection of the otherwise powerful and flexible voting system—an imperfection he didn ’t see until today. He had the first hunch about it yesterday, but today ’s events made it even more apparent and to an extent frightening. The concern caused by it was so grave that it was impeding Chris ’s ability to deliver a smooth performance and he felt really saddened by this fact.

  “Cut to the chase,” Alex urged him. “What is it?”

  It was obvious that he was eager to be done with this unforeseen hurdle as soon as possible and move on. Perhaps it had just dawned on him that by the middle of the fourth day he was the only one who hadn’t presented yet. Any further delay was threatening to make his chances really slim.

  Chris, to his credit, was not trying to stall the process. He quickly and eagerly shared his concern. Despite its significance , the imperfection was rather simple : a ll votes were equal and that was wrong .

  Upon hearing this, Paul just had to intervene .

  “Did I get this right?” he asked suspiciously. “All votes are equal, but some are more equal than others?”

  Chris bit the bullet with no hesitation and in the same open manner. Yes, to an extent , that ’s exactly what he is talking about. Excessive equality could potentially be as harmful as inequality. If y
ou do an honest job picking a leader and you base your choice on your real impression instead of some farfetched agenda , you have to trust the person you vote for. You have to believe in him. You should trust him more than you trust your best friend. More than you trust yourself. You should want to follow him and feel completely assured that he has your back. If there ’s no trust, how the hell can one be a leader? And once you trust your leader , you are willing to give him something—your skills, your time, your knowledge—and expect that he will use them well and bring you closer to your common goal. For instance, when you trust your government , you give it your personal money by paying taxes and you trust that it will do something meaningful for you in exchange. Well, this may not be the best example, but you get the idea.

  Now, think about what you can give to your leader here, in our situation? Only your vote. You ’ve got nothing else to give. You have no other way of putting your trust into your candidate. But think about it for a moment. Doesn ’t it strike you as odd that you are actually stopping halfway? Yes, you ’re giving your vote to this person, but on your terms, in what essentially is a “My way or the highway ” sort of arrangement. Perhaps the time has come to add the first amendment to our little constitution. Wouldn ’t it be more logical to empower your candidate to do whatever he wants with your vote? He can keep it or—since he also has the right to vote—he can choose to pass your vote to someone else. Someone he trusts.