by Ramsey Isler
“I want to see it.”
“Whenever you want,” Sam said.
“How about now?”
“Glad you asked,” Sam said as she retrieved a small gray box from her backpack. She handed it to Hamilton with the care of a mother handing over her newborn child for the first time. Hamilton opened the box. The sunlight hit the watch inside, and danced on the white-gold surface.
“Well,” Hamilton said, “this certainly is a pretty gadget.” He placed the watch on his left wrist. “It’s kind of heavy though.”
“Heavier than a normal watch,” Sam said, “but it’s still wearable, and the features make it worth it.”
“That remains to be seen,” Hamilton said. “What do these buttons on the side do?”
“Try them and see.”
Hamilton pressed one of the buttons and the watch face did its unique transformation. He didn’t move for a while, nor did he say anything. He just watched, pressed more buttons, and watched some more.
“Okay,” Hamilton said when he’d seen enough, “It’s good. It’s really good. But I’m a long ways from being totally sold on this. You’ll have to put these into some kind of mass production. Limited edition runs aren’t worth the investment unless you’re going to sell them for a hundred grand each. This prototype is amazing, but it takes more than one watch to prove viability.”
“How about a dozen watches?” Sam said. She took out her phone and brought up a picture of an old display case the shop used to use out front. But instead of displaying the latest watch models from Rolex, Cartier, and Omega, it boasted rows of watches similar to the one Hamilton was holding.
“Is this a Photoshop trick?” Hamilton asked.
“Nope,” Sam said. “Twelve watches. Six of the Excelsior model for men, and six of the slimmer Victoria model for women. You can stop by my shop and see the whole collection anytime you like.”
Hamilton smiled and shook his head. “Looks like you have been busy.”
“And it looks like you have a check to write,” Sam said.
* * *
Sam practically skipped to her car like a giddy schoolgirl. Things were going surprisingly well. And it was all due to that strange little imp.
She got home, closed the door behind her, and saw Rupert staring at her from the kitchen. He didn’t come to greet her as he usually did. Instead he just stared and looked thoroughly confused. That usually meant that Piv was in the house.
“Piv!” Sam shouted. “Come on out, you little genius.”
“I’m not accustomed to being beckoned in that fashion,” Piv said as he peered around a corner in the living room.
“I have good news,” Sam said.
“Hooray!” Piv said and he approached her with arms thrown up in celebration. “What is it?”
“Mr. Hamilton has agreed to fund our little operation,” Sam said.
“That is wonderful news. Let’s get started,” Piv reached into a pocket on his shirt and retrieved a neatly folded sheet of paper. “Here’s a list of things we’ll need.”
Sam unfolded the note and felt a surge of shock. The handwriting was the same as her father’s. Sam took a deep breath, and said, “My father taught you how to write.”
“Well, I knew how to write other things before I met him,” Piv said, “But Samuel taught me how to write the loopy English letters.”
“I was never able to write like he did,” Sam continued. “Honestly, I never cared to.”
“Why not?”
Sam paused to think for a moment. “Because it was something that made him special. Something unique. I wanted to keep it that way.”
“Oh,” Piv said. “Sorry.”
“No, don’t be. This is nice. It helps remind me that he still lives on in many ways. This is a long list, by the way.”
Piv nodded. “We have lots and lots of work to do.”
“Am I reading this wrong...or does this say that you want a whole building?”
Piv nodded vigorously. “We need someplace private, someplace quiet, someplace free from googly eyes.”
“Why? You’re doing just fine in the garage.”
“For now,” Piv said. “But we need more room if we’re going to build even more.”
“Who is this ’we’ you keep talking about?”
“Myself and my friends,” Piv said.
“Uh...friends?”
Piv nodded so hard his little cap flopped about. “Yes yes. I need help. I only have two arms, you know. To make as many watches as you want I’d need at least six arms, and I can’t grow any more.”
“How many friends are you thinking of bringing here?” Sam asked.
“Just two. For now.”
“Oh boy,” Sam said. “One of you is bad enough. But...I guess I can deal with a couple of extra elves. They’re not going to want to stay in my house, are they?”
“Oh no no no. Of course not. Just give us a nice quiet place to work with lots of space and trees around.”
“Well, that shouldn’t be much of a problem,” Sam said. “There’s plenty of vacant land in the Detroit area. As a matter of fact, there’s an old furniture factory a bit south of here. It’s in an undeveloped part of town, and nobody keeps an eye on it. When I was younger I used to get into some trouble there.”
“Tell me more,” Piv said.
“It’s not a huge factory, but I think it’s big enough and the building is in pretty good shape. Most people who drive by don’t even know it’s there. The grass has grown pretty wild and the building is surrounded by old elm trees. My dad once told me that it’s pretty remarkable that the trees somehow survived the breakout of elm disease that hit Michigan decades ago. ”
“That sounds like it will be a nice place for us,” Piv said. “Very nice. Let’s get it!”
“I’ll try,” Sam said. “I might have some difficulty convincing Hamilton to pay for a factory that doesn’t house any documented official business.”
“Oh pish posh. You’re smart. You’ll find a way.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Sam said. “I’ll let you know once I set something up. Your friends aren’t in a hurry, are they?”
“Oh no,” Piv said. “They are willing to wait for this. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, even for us.”
* * *
Sam did find a way to get Piv his factory without any hassle. She paid for it herself.
Although Samuel Chablon had been quite eccentric in many ways, when it came to finances he was as prudent and conventional as they come. He left Sam a tidy sum in inheritance for her to put to good use. Sam wondered if he ever would have imagined she’d be using it to house more elves, but she felt he would have approved.
She informed her accountant of her plans and he gave her all the info she needed. She could buy the factory now and turn it into a capital investment in the new company later if Hamilton decided he wanted to be her partner. But Sam planned to move forward regardless, even if Hamilton backed out. Her mind was set on building a corporate powerhouse.
For that, she would need other partners.
But Piv and his odd friends wouldn’t be enough to drive this new company forward. The Kith, brilliant as they were with all things mechanical, knew nothing about business, and Sam had to admit that she herself lacked real acumen in that field. She needed help, and she knew where to get it.
* * *
Later in the week, Sam met up with Jessica for one of their somewhat-frequent Sunday brunches. Sam did not usually speak about anything serious during these hangouts; she preferred to keep the conversations limited to topics like TV shows, food, and whomever Jess was dating at the time. But today was different. Today, Sam wanted to talk business. She broached the topic as soon as their waiter brought their orders.
“Jess,” she said, “I need someone to take over marketing for my new company.”
“Wait...what?” Jessica said. “I didn’t know you’re starting a new company.”
“Well it’s not reall
y a new company,” Sam said. “It’s still Better Timepieces, but we’re moving into something different. I’m going to be producing watches now.”
“Go girl!” Jess said with a thumbs up. “That’s some initiative right there. I know a great marketing guy who is absolutely brilliant and one of the sweetest boys I’ve ever met. He’ll be perfect.”
“I don’t want him,” Sam said. “I want you.”
Jessica paused just as she was about to shove a forkful of omelet into her mouth. “Me? I have a job.”
“A job that bores the hell out of you,” Sam said.
“But it’s stable, and it pays well.” Jess put that morsel of omelet in her mouth and chewed quickly.
“I can pay you well,” Sam said.
“Sam, it’s going to be a startup,” Jess answered, saying that last word like it was a curse. “No offense, but chances are you won’t make it past two years. I have a career to think of.”
Sam leaned in closer to her friend and said, “Imagine how well that career will do when you’ve got Chief Marketing Officer of a successful new company on your resume.”
“Sam—”
“I’ll make you a partner.”
Jess blew a heavy sigh out of her nostrils, leaned back, and stared out the nearest window. “How are you funding this thing?”
“My inheritance,” Sam said, “and a lot of money from Terry Hamilton. He’s the primary investor.”
“The old guy I met at the funeral?”
“Yep,” Sam said.
“How much is he putting in?”
“Enough,” Sam answered.
“And what do I get out of this?”
“A CMO title, a hundred and fifty grand in salary, and five percent ownership. It’s the same deal I’m giving Yusef except he gets the CFO title.”
Jess laughed. “Does Yusef know that yet?”
“I’ll inform him later,” Sam said.
Jessica ran her tongue across her teeth before she spoke again. “And you’re the CEO?”
“Yes.”
“And what does Hamilton get?” Jess asked.
“Besides a significant slice of ownership in the company, he gets to be President.”
Jess grimaced. “Hmm. He could be a meddler. You know how those old guys are.”
“I doubt he’ll be any trouble,” Sam said. “Besides, we need a veteran around to give the operation some credibility. And he may actually have some useful advice every now and then. If he gets out of hand it won’t matter much. I’m still the majority shareholder.”
Jess didn’t respond. Instead she busied herself with finishing her omelet. Sam let her finish, knowing that Jessica would be much more obliging with a belly full of savory food.
“You know you want to do this,” Sam said when Jess finally put her fork down.
“I like the boss I have now,” Jessica said. “I don’t know if I’m ready to get a new one.”
“Jess, I need you. This is going to be very hard. I need a partner that can sell anything to anybody. Lord knows I couldn’t even sell cake at a Weight Watchers convention.”
Jess said, “If I stay at the agency for a couple more years I’ll be a VP.”
Sam leaned in even more, gently placed her hand on Jessica’s, and spoke in a soothing, tender tone. “Do you really want to spend the rest of your life selling soap to lonely housewives, or do you want to help me do something amazing?”
Jessica flinched, like someone had just threatened her with a menacing gesture. After a few tense moments, her grim expression gave way to a genuine smile. “And you say you’re not good at selling.”
“So that’s a yes, then?”
“It’s a yes,” Jessica said, “but if this falls through and I end up broke, I’m moving in with you, and you get to sleep on the couch.”
* * *
With Jess on board, the next piece to put into place was Yusef. But he was considerably easier to convince since he was already a Better Timepieces employee and stood to get a significant raise out of the deal. Within 10 minutes of sitting down with him, he’d already committed to the project and started thinking about logistics. When Sam drove home that evening, she was quite pleased with herself.
She opened her front door and immediately noticed several strange things. Firstly, there was a new smell in the air—a soft, sweet odor mixed with Piv’s familiar perfume. It was like baked cinnamon. Secondly, there were two new elves in her house. Lastly, one of them was riding Rupert like a cowboy on a bucking bronco.
“What...the...hell?” Sam screamed. “Get off my dog!” Immediately, all action in the room stopped. Four sets of wide eyes—even Rupert’s—locked onto her. The little dark-skinned cowboy elf dismounted from Rupert, who then scampered off towards the back of the house as fast as he could.
Sam turned her fury to Piv. “Who are these people?”
“Kith,” Piv said with a wide smile.
“What are they doing here?”
“They’re our new partners,” Piv said.
Sam lowered her head and mumbled, “Great.”
She turned her attention to Piv’s friends. They were dressed in patchwork brown clothing that appeared to be made from a variety of different garments they’d cut up and reassembled, but the patches were meticulously arranged in patterns that might be considered fashionable by modern standards. The elf who had been riding Rupert stepped forward and smiled, revealing bright white teeth that contrasted greatly with his dark complexion. “Noc Noc,” he said.
Sam scrunched her nose and shrugged. “Uhm...who’s there?”
“Who’s where?” he said.
“In the joke?” Sam said.
“What joke?”
“The knock knock joke,” Sam said.
“Pardon?”
“Didn’t you just say knock knock?”
The dark elf nodded. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because that is my name,” Noc Noc said.
“Ohhh,” Sam said. “I’m sorry. I thought...never mind. Why were you riding my dog?”
“He’s big!” Noc Noc said with outstretched arms and a wide smile.
“I know that,” Sam said in a low, even voice. “But why were you riding him?”
“Because...he’s big!”
“I see,” Sam replied. Once again, elf logic escaped her, so she decided to change the subject. “You’re different than the others”, she said. “I didn’t know there were black elves.”
This time it was Noc Noc’s turn to frown. “Black?”
“I mean...African American.”
Noc Noc giggled and said, “I’m not from Africa or America. You’re a bit odd, aren’t you? Were you dropped on the head as a child?”
“Sometimes, I wonder that myself,” Sam said. She turned to the paler, quiet elf standing next to Piv. He stood stock still, with his arms folded, and unlike the other two, his face bore no hint of any humor.
“And who are you?” Sam asked him.
“Melkidoodum,” he said.
Sam groaned. “Why couldn’t it be something easy like Noc Noc? Is it okay if I just call you Mel?”
The elves gasped in unison, and exchanged wide-eyed glances. But none of them said anything.
“I guess that’s a no,” Sam said.
Piv nodded and glared at her. A curt “Hmph” was the only reply she got from Noc Noc. Melkidoodum didn’t say anything—he just glared at Sam with cold, dark eyes.
Piv turned to his two grim-faced companions and said, “Mayhaps you two should go get familiar with the garage. I’ll meet you there.”
Noc Noc and Melkidoodum complied and shuffled towards the back door. Moments later, Rupert came galloping back into the living room, whimpering with his tail between his legs.
Sam couldn’t help but smile, but Piv did not share her mirth. He crossed his arms and put on history’s most convincing pouting face.
“Did I do something wrong?” Sam asked.
“They gave you their names!” Pi
v said, as if his meaning were the most obvious thing in the world.
“So?” Sam said. “So did you.”
“That is only because of an agreement I had with your father, and that was something that he earned. The others told you their names with no obligation, and you stomped all over their gesture of good will.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam said.
“The names of the Kith are very, very important,” Piv continued. “It is very mean to use little nicknames like...Mel.” Piv’s face twisted into a sour expression when he said that last bit, as if the name itself tasted foul in his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Sam repeated. “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” Piv said, “or the others will leave.”
“Understood,” Sam said. “So you three are going to build all the watches from now on?”
“No, silly girl,” Piv said, his smile returning. “Noc Noc and Melkidoodum and I are only arranging things for the others.”
“Others? There are more coming?”
Piv nodded vigorously.
“How many elves am I going to end up harboring?” Sam asked.
“More than a few, less than too many,” Piv responded.
“And where are they going to come from?”
“Oh don’t worry about those small things. We’ll handle all of that. All you need to do for now is find someplace for them to stay.”
“I’ve already started the process of buying and renovating that old furniture factory I told you about,” Sam said.
“Wonderful news,” Piv said. “Is it woodsy, with lots of animals to play with, and no nosy neighbors?”
“Yes. I’ll arrange for you guys to see it soon. Anything else?”
“Remember to mind your manners,” Piv said, and then he went to meet his friends in the garage.
Chapter 10
Hamilton was true to his word and he had the investment check ready the next week, but not before he presented Sam with enough paperwork to keep her and her lawyer busy for three whole days. Hamilton’s demands were listed in excruciating detail, but once they got past the minutiae, what he wanted wasn’t all that unreasonable. He was, after all, providing a significant amount of money to a very young lady with some very risky ideas.
