The Ultimate Life

by Jim Stovall

  In this life, work is the culmination of all we are and all we learn that we bring toothers through the marketplace.

  Three

  THE LIFE OF WORK

  I tossed and turned all night. I could not get my mind away from the case. Every judge in every courthouse throughout the land deals with a voluminous caseload, but in my court and in the minds of people all around the world, the dispute over Red Stevens’ estate came to be known simply as The Case.

  Finally, deep in the middle of the night, I got out of bed, went into my study, and turned on the television. I thought that some mindless TV program might provide escape. As I flipped through the channels, it seemed like everyone everywhere was broadcasting news, commentaries, profiles, conjectures, or tabloid fantasies surrounding Red Stevens, Jason Stevens, and the case.

  L. Myron Dudly was prominently featured throughout the media. I had decided early on that this case would unavoidably be a media circus so, instead of trying to control it, I simply let it run its course. But Mr. Dudly was, indeed, making the most of the situation.

  As the sun reluctantly clawed its way over the horizon and the stars relinquished their domain, another day came to life. I was in my chambers, reclining in the safety and security of my leather chair, nursing my third cup of coffee as I contemplated what had been and what would be. I gazed out of my window at the cityscape.

  Most courthouses were built to last. Many are constructed of limestone or marble. They were designed and prominently placed within the center of communities all across the United States. In the ensuing decades, many of these communities have grown toward the suburbs, leaving their courthouses, including mine, in the middle of a blighted inner city.

  Outside my window, I could see several vacant, abandoned buildings and several others that should have been vacated and abandoned. There was a barren city block in the middle of it all where sometime in the distant past, bulldozers had knocked down everything that had been there but nothing had ever come along to take root in that place. There had been talk and rumor for as long as I could remember of putting an inner-city park there, but funding and priorities always seemed to be focused elsewhere.

  Even though it was several hours before court would be in session, I knew my part of the day’s proceedings needed to begin immediately. I removed from the voluminous case file my printed copy of Red Stevens’ last will and testament and my DVD copies of the video messages that Red Stevens had made for Jason as a part of The Ultimate Gift.

  I selected the DVD marked The Gift of Work and put it into the player built into the wall console. This day’s court proceedings would be to determine whether or not Jason had accomplished the tasks set forth for him by Red Stevens with respect to The Gift of Work. Furthermore, I would have to determine whether or not Jason Stevens had the ability to apply the lessons learned through The Gift of Work to benefit the world as a result of the enormous trust fund Red Stevens had left behind.

  As the DVD player came to life and Red Stevens’ imposing face appeared on the screen, I pressed the pause button and stared at the glowing image before me. Howard “Red” Stevens was, indeed, an historical figure. It was hard to separate the truth from the myth and legend. I thought about the emotions and the turmoil that would exist inside of someone who knew they were coming to the end of life, but hoped to leave behind a message after death that they were somehow unable to convey throughout their lifetime.

  I pressed “play” and Red Stevens began speaking from beyond the grave to his grandson.

  “Jason, when I was much younger than you are now, I learned the satisfaction that comes from a simple four-letter word: work. One of the things my wealth has robbed from you and the entire family is the privilege and satisfaction that comes from doing an honest day’s work.

  “Now, before you go off the deep end and reject everything I’m going to tell you, I want you to realize that work has brought me everything I have and everything that you have. I regret that I have taken from you the joy of knowing that what you have is what you’ve earned.

  “My earliest memories in the swamps of Louisiana are of work—hard, backbreaking labor that as a young man I resented greatly. My parents had too many mouths to feed and not enough food, so if we wanted to eat, we worked. Later, when I was on my own and came to Texas, I realized that hard work had become a habit for me, and it served as a true joy all the rest of my life.

  “Jason, you have enjoyed the best things that this world has to offer. You have been everywhere, seen everything, and done everything. What you don’t understand is how much pleasure these things can bring you when you have earned them yourself, when leisure becomes a reward for hard work instead of a way to avoid work.”

  I turned off the DVD player and contemplated the words and the spirit of Red Stevens. I couldn’t help but think of my own work life and consider how well I had applied The Gift of Work to my life; but the issue at hand was how much had Jason learned and was he capable of passing on The Gift of Work to countless others around the world.

  The courtroom was packed. If anything, the electricity and tension had elevated from the day before. I rapped my gavel and got immediately down to business.

  “The matter before this court today is the conditions of the last will and testament of Howard ‘Red’ Stevens relating to The Gift of Work. The court will decide whether Jason Stevens has proven himself proficient in learning The Gift of Work and, more importantly, if he is qualified to manage several billion dollars in trust to pass on this lesson and gift to others.”

  I glanced quickly at Theodore J. Hamilton who was calmly taking notes as he listened to my opening remarks. I continued. “Mr. Hamilton, as you are the one who wrote, carried out, and evaluated Red Stevens’ last will and testament, the court presumes you find everything to be in order.”

  Hamilton nodded perfunctorily, and I shifted my gaze to the other side of the aisle. L. Myron Dudly, the rest of the Dudly, Cheetham, and Leech legal team, and the assembled heirs of Red Stevens were in their places. There seemed to be considerably more anxiety present than was in evidence the day before. This was logical as the family previously thought they had nothing to lose and everything to gain, but now they realized that they could quite literally lose it all.

  I addressed Mr. Dudly. “Counsel, as your clients are contesting the validity of Red Stevens’ last will and testament relating to Jason’s completion of the tasks called for, I will let you begin.”

  Dudly confidently rose to his feet, paused significantly, and then declared, “We call Jason Stevens to the stand.”

  Jason stood haltingly and tentatively made his way to the witness box. He was seated, and he swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  Dudly approached the witness box and actually sneered at Jason as he stated questioningly, “You are Jason Stevens?”

  Jason nodded and replied sheepishly, “Yes.”

  Dudly turned to the gallery expansively and said, “Please speak up so everyone can hear you.”

  Dudly paced back and forth and inquired, “What was the relationship between you and Howard ‘Red’ Stevens?”

  Jason replied cautiously, “He was my grandfather.”

  Dudly appeared shocked and perplexed. “Are you quite sure he was your grandfather?”

  Jason seemed bewildered and repeated, “Yes.”

  Dudly smiled victoriously and continued. “Can you then please tell this court and everyone assembled why every reference you ever made about Howard ‘Red’ Stevens, as infrequent as they were, referred to Red Stevens as an obscure uncle or your great uncle?”

  Jason reddened and gazed down at his feet. After a long pause, he began. “Howard ‘Red’ Stevens was my grandfather. He was my father’s father. This is something I never appreciated. In fact, I was ashamed of it my whole life
until he was already gone. I blamed him for everything that was wrong in my life, and I held him responsible for my father’s death. Only after my grandfather was gone did I come to understand that my grandfather was trying to help my father, and my father died as a result of an accident that had nothing to do with my grandfather. Only after receiving The Ultimate Gift am I able to say I am proud to be Red Stevens’ grandson and thankful for everything that he taught me.”

  Jason stared defiantly at Dudly as Dudly continued. “So we are to understand that you feel entitled and deserving of inheriting several billion dollars from someone of whom you were ashamed—and whom you denied being a grandson of—all the years he was alive.”

  “Yes,” Jason croaked.

  Dudly smugly looked at the gallery and at me then settled his gaze on Jason and commented, “Shocking. Truly shocking.”

  Hamilton forcefully interrupted, “Your Honor, I object. Can we please have counsel reserve his opinions and reactions for a time and place more appropriate? Red Stevens’ bequests and his reasons for making his bequests are not subject to the approval or the opinions of Mr. Dudly.”

  I rapped my gavel perfunctorily and sustained the objection in favor of Mr. Hamilton.

  Dudly was undaunted and began firing questions toward Jason.

  “Have you ever in your life, even once, applied for a job?”

  “No,” Jason responded.

  “Have you ever, even once in your life, held a paying job?”

  Jason paused, seeming to think, then shook his head and replied, “No.”

  “Would you describe for this court and those of us assembled here the brief experience you had at the ranch in Texas last year?”

  Jason straightened in his chair and began. “My grandfather taught me The Gift of Work by sending me to work with Gus Caldwell on his ranch.”

  Dudly smiled and nodded, then inquired, “So, what variety of work experience did you have during that thirty-day period?”

  Jason responded, “I dug post holes and built a fence.”

  “And what else?” Dudly asked.

  Jason appeared confused and shook his head, replying, “Nothing else.”

  Dudly pressed the issue. “So, would it be safe to say that your entire work experience and the totality of your background relating to work is limited to a thirty-day period when you did nothing other than build a fence? Do you feel this, in any way, qualifies you to manage billions of dollars and help other people understand The Gift of Work?”

  Jason shrugged his shoulders and stammered inaudibly.

  Dudly retreated to his table, exclaiming, “This witness is dismissed. We call to the stand one …” Dudly paused as he shuffled through his paperwork and announced, “… Gus Caldwell.”

  It was as if a piece of history or Americana walked down the aisle of my courtroom. Gus Caldwell solemnly put his hand on the Bible and was sworn in. He nodded with respect toward me and Mr. Hamilton.

  Dudly barely suppressed a chuckle as he inquired, “So, you are Gus Caldwell.”

  Gus Caldwell let the silence drag out to an uncomfortable point as only a supremely confident person can do, then replied, “Yes, son, I’m Gus Caldwell. Who might you be?”

  Laughter could be heard sprinkled throughout the room. I tapped my gavel for order.

  Dudly appeared indignant and replied, “I, sir, am L. Myron Dudly, Attorney at Law, and I am not your son.”

  Gus Caldwell leaned back in his chair, smiled broadly, and responded, “No, I guess you’re not my son. That’s just another in the long list of things that I’m thankful to the Almighty for.”

  The laughter rained down throughout the courtroom, and I couldn’t stifle my own chuckle as I pounded for silence and order.

  Dudly paused, regained his dignity, and took a different tact.

  “Mr. Caldwell, can you describe for this court the nature and extent of your business?”

  Gus Caldwell recited the list. “I raise cows, horses. Grow wheat along with a number of other crops. I have oil wells, gas wells, and own parts of banks, shopping malls, and some other stuff I don’t know much about.”

  Dudly nodded as if he understood and continued. “Out of all the tasks, jobs, and positions in all your varied enterprises, can you help us understand the scope and nature of work experience you provided for Jason Stevens?”

  Gus nodded and replied brusquely, “He built a fence.”

  Dudly repeated, “He built a fence. Yes, I see.”

  Dudly seemed to ponder a moment. “Can you help us understand of what possible benefit thirty days of fence building would be for someone entrusted with billions of dollars for the purpose of helping people, among other things, understand The Gift of Work?”

  Gus Caldwell shook his head sadly as if preparing to address a child. “Son, a person who can build a good fence can do anything. The nature of the work is not as important as the nature of the person. Anyone can learn the steps in doing a job, but only a few people understand the pride, the dignity, and the honor that goes with doing a job well. My outfit has grown to be worth a lot of money, and I’m able to handle it all, and I never got that out of a book. I guess I learned a lot about work and a lot about life from hard labor like building miles of fence.”

  Dudly shook his head, as if he and everyone else in hearing range would be disappointed in the answer, and retreated to his counsel table stating with a dismissive wave, “Your Honor, I believe we have learned all we can and will from this witness.”

  Gus Caldwell looked up at me questioningly, and I smiled and nodded, saying, “Mr. Caldwell, the court thanks you for being here today.”

  Gus rose and replied, “Sir, you don’t need to thank me. I’d do anything you can imagine and some things you can’t for Red Stevens.”

  Gus Caldwell walked down the aisle and out of my courtroom with every eye riveted on him.

  Eventually, I turned my gaze back to Dudly and inquired, “Mr. Dudly, have you other witnesses?”

  “No, Your Honor,” he replied. “I believe we’ve heard more than enough from Mr. Caldwell and Mr. Jason Stevens himself to understand that this young man …” Dudly jabbed a finger in Jason’s direction as he spoke “… does not and could not know anything about the world of work even as it relates to himself, much less the ability and understanding to manage billions of dollars to help others.”

  I sat back in my chair and stared at Mr. Dudly as I pondered the situation.

  Then Hamilton rose to speak. “Your Honor, the matter before the court is not Mr. Dudly’s opinion of Red Stevens’ will or even Mr. Dudly’s opinion of Jason Stevens’ work habits. The matter before the court is quite simply, does Jason Stevens understand The Gift of Work and can he pass this lesson on to others through the resources left by his grandfather. I believe—and his grandfather’s wishes demand—that he be given a chance to prove his worthiness in this matter once and for all.”

  Hamilton sat down as if the matter was decided and, indeed, the matter was decided. My eyes settled for a moment on each lawyer in turn, and then I ruled.

  “It is the decision of this court that Jason Stevens be given thirty days to prove, by his own means and in his own way, that he understands The Gift of Work and that he, indeed, possesses the wherewithal to pass along Red Stevens’ Gift of Work to others. If at the end of thirty days the court is satisfied in this matter, we will proceed to the next gift. If not, the last will and testament will be overturned, and the assets of the Red Stevens’ Trust shall be divided pro rata among the heirs who are a party to this suit.

  “Court is dismissed.”

  The media coverage in the ensuing days was relentless and unprecedented. Dudly, Cheetham, and Leech got a lifetime worth of face time while Hamilton must have found a place to hide from the media. Jason Stevens’ sightings were recorded here and the
re with questionable reliability. Frankly, we were all in the dark.

  I wondered if I had done the right thing, considering Jason Stevens and, more importantly, Red Stevens. Was this task reasonable, and was it even possible?

  I handled the rest of my caseload for the next few weeks and tried to focus on other matters.

  Then an unforgettable day came. As usual, I was sitting in my leather chair with my cup of coffee as the morning first became a hint then a reality, when I observed a sight my mind simply wouldn’t register. My normal view out the picture window of my chambers showed the sun rising in the east just as it should, and showed the abandoned buildings and the rundown tenements. It showed the vacant block where the bulldozers had left their mark, but something—in fact, everything—was different both in spirit and in practice.

  As the day had barely begun, I observed a Texas-style rail fence materializing around the previously vacant block. Neighborhood youth, actually gang members, were swarming all about the area performing a variety of tasks—some of which were clear to me, while others remained a mystery.

  As the day matured, the climbing sun revealed delivery trucks unloading building supplies and playground equipment. Merchants, business leaders, and residents of the area clustered in groups around the perimeter, and several television trucks appeared to cover the unfolding events.

  Deep down, I suspected what was happening. I smiled and then laughed out loud in the privacy of my chambers. I simply couldn’t wait for the approaching day in my court when the reality of the situation would be exposed.

  I greeted everyone gathered in the courtroom as I tapped my gavel for order.

  “Good morning. The purpose of this hearing is to make a final determination regarding Jason Stevens’ completion of tasks and suitability for responsibilities with respect to the last will and testament of Howard ‘Red’ Stevens. The court will ask Jason Stevens to take the stand.”

  Jason moved confidently to the witness box, was eagerly sworn in, and sat on the edge of the chair. I nodded toward Mr. Hamilton to proceed.