A Change of Careers
I wasn’t used to coming home midday. My schedule at work is pretty busy and I often stay there at the office well into the evening. I work for a large brokerage house and studying for my stock broker’s license and between that and being with Suzy, my fiancé, you could say that my time awake was pretty well filled. So, it was especially unusual that I would be home at 1:30 in the afternoon. But the dentist’s anesthetic made my mouth and gums all numb and tingling, and I hated the way that felt. I wouldn’t be able to speak properly, and speaking well, to strangers on the phone, rich strangers, was what helped keep me in the financial industry. So I decided to go home first and allow some of the effects to wear off before going back to work.
It was a beautiful day, in the early summer, sunny but not too warm, when the sky had given off just enough rain to cause his neighbors to crank up their mowers for the first cut of the season. That’s what I heard now, that noise coming from outside my bedroom window.
I walked over to the window of my small upstairs bedroom and looked out through the intense light of the early afternoon. This vantage point allowed me to see over the fence that divided my driveway from my new neighbor where I saw the grass being cut by a well muscled young guy. The guy was wearing cutoffs, work boots, and no shirt. The body glistened in the sun as if he had oiled it. With chestnut hair in an outgrown buzz and the first hint of a tan on his back and chest he looked to be about 19 or 20. This was a good 6 years younger than me and damn if I wasn’t surprised at how buffed he looked. Course it wasn’t like I was ashamed of my own body, far from it. I had pumped and grunted long enough that I’m now used to getting second looks from the ladies, and from some men too, which, truth be told doesn’t bother me either. But this guy,…he was really ripped. I was kind of daydreaming there for a minute while, wondering what this guy’s workout routine consisted of, as I rolled my tongue over the inside of my cheek to see if I could make the numbness go away. .
A passing car caught my attention away from the yard guy but was drawn back by the sudden silence caused by the mower being turned off. I saw the young guy push the mower around the side of the house and disappear. He reappeared a moment later with a rake and began to pull the clippings into a pile. Just as I was about to head to the kitchen for some juice I noticed that the guy had put down the rake and was looking around. He looked over his shoulder,..to the left and then the right as if he were looking to see if anyone were watching him. The small yard where he was working was entirely enclosed by a fairly tall wood fence, (I helped install that fence with the previous owner btw) and could not have been seen from the street or from anywhere except my bedroom window from where I happened to be looking.
He gave the area the once over again then approached the tall bush planted against the fence. I wondered what the hell was he doing as I strained at the edge of the window to get the best view. He was almost out of sight now. The young stud reached the edge of the bush then, standing in place and half crouching he turned around in a circle two times.
WTF? What is this guy up to ? I smiled at this unusual behavior as I strained harder to watch it. In the amount of time it takes to write this, or to read it, the young yard stud suddenly pulled down his cutoffs and stepped one leg out of them. Using his free leg, he lifted it outward to the side of his body and whizzed onto the bush. Like a dog he was. Raising his leg, he peed on the shrubbery. I could only observe the muscled back of this yard guy who peed like a dog but I did see the stream of golden urine as it arced over the bushes and glistened in the sunlight.
I was kinda curious now, to say the least, and thought I’d go over to the house and introduce myself, just to see if I could find this stud dogman. Who knows,..maybe he’d bark for me! I grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels that Suzie had given me for my birthday and headed for the door. “At 26 you can drink like a man now,” she said to me. I wasn’t sure what that meant but anyway thought it would make a great house warming present.
The sun was awfully bright that day. I had forgotten my sunglasses so I had to squint as I left the house. My cheek and mouth weren’t tingling anymore but I was still rubbing my tongue over it.
Rounding the corner of the fence I could hear some rake action going on against the clippings from the other side. The smell of the fresh cut grass was great, it reminded me of baseball practice back when I was in high school and we’d have to wait till they finished mowing. The neighborhood was an old one and there had been some conversions from houses to professional offices. Some had even gone back to being houses. But this is one that had gone “prof” as we called it.
I turned the corner of the house and went up the front stoop. There were only a few steps leading up to the front door but when I got there, there was this sign on the wall next to the door. “Dr. J. Madamba, Clinical Psychologist, Sports Counseling, Life Interventions,..” There were a bunch of other letters and initials after his name but I didn’t know what the hell they all meant and it was hot standing there. The inner wood door was open so I pulled back the glass storm door and went in. It was really dark and cool in there. I was standing in what obviously had been the living room and the only furniture in it was a small black leather sofa set against the far wall and a table with some mail on it. Suddenly I felt kinda weird and stupid standing there with this bottle of whiskey in my hand.
“Hello ?” I thought if I called out it would be better than having dogman come in and find a stranger in the house.
“Just put in on the sofa !”
I don’t know where that voice came from. Seemed like there must have been speakers all over the place.
I walked over and set the whiskey on the sofa then turned around just as this guy entered the room from the hall. He was a tall guy, but not as tall as me. I’m 6′1″. He looked like he was maybe 6′ or a little less, but was bigger, heavier. There was a pot belly that would have hung out over a belt except that his shirt was draped over it like a tent. He had this white hair that was frizzing out because it was getting thin and a short well trimmed white beard. He looked like Santa Claus. That was the first think I thought of when he stepped into the room.
Thinking that made me smile. He noticed the smile and smiled too.
“Say, you’re not the laundry service, are you ?”
“Nope, I mean no,” I felt kinda weird. It was like he caught me doing something but I really hadn’t done anything.
“I’m your neighbor from next door. Just saw you guys moving in and thought I’d say hello and bring over a housewarming gift.”
“That’s very good of you. My name is Madamba, Dr. Carlos Madamba.” “My name is Brett, Brett Harding.”
We shook hands and I noticed that his hand was thick and firm. Maybe it wasn’t the case, but seemed like he hung on to my hand for longer than when I usually shake hands with someone. Like he was trying to think of something else to say but didn’t know what it was. He just kept shaking and smiling and looking me in the eye. I finally pulled my hand away and stuck my hands in my jeans pockets.
“I brought you some JD, as a housewarming gift.”
“JD ?”
“Oh, Jack Daniels, whiskey.”
“Fantastic!, but, where is it?”
I motioned over to the couch. He was still smiling at me but looked over and his eyes became rounder.
“But why on the couch? Oh! You heard me say put it on the couch didn’t you ?” “Well, I didn’t know what..”
“And you did as you were told !! Excellent !”
I guess I blinked a couple of times. I didn’t really know how to reply to that! He must have noticed.
“You get the bottle and I’ll get a couple of glasses and we’ll toast to each other as new neighbors, how would that be ?’
“You mean, drink, now ? I mean, I haven’t been used to alcohol this early in the day since college, and I,..”
“Nonsense! I’ll get the glasses.”
Before I could say anything else he had disappeared back into the hall and what sounded like into another room. I took the bottle of JD and by the time I twisted off the top he was back with two small glasses.
“What do you do Brett?”
“I’m a stock broker.”
“Oh really? How interesting.”
I thought to myself I’d better clarify that a bit.
“Well, I’m studying right now for my series 7 exam.”
“Series 7 ?”
He took the bottle from my hand and poured each glass about one half full.
“Yes, that’s the top designation. I’ll be able to sell any kind of financial product with that license.”
“I’m impressed!”
He smiled as he handed me the glass and there was something about the way he said it that made me believe he really was impressed.
“Cheers!” he almost shouted and upended his glass.
I really wasn’t in the mood to start doing shots but if he could do it, so could I and I tossed back my glass.
Shit, did it ever burn ! I managed to smile but probably not as convincingly as he did. He grinned and it really seemed that his eyes twinkled.
“What was it you said you do ?”
“I’m a counselor, sports trainer,..a reader of minds and the one who sets priorities.”
He smiled at me again. This time I could tell a little bit of red coming into his cheeks.
“Your sign says Dr….are you a PhD ?”
“No, MD,..but that was long ago, I don’t practice medicine now.”
I cleared my throat hoping he’d offer me some water since my throat was still burning. I set my glass down on the table and he started to reach out and pour me another one. Thank god I didn’t have to say no to his hospitality cause just then we heard a door open somewhere back in the house.
“Dr. Madamba , Sir, I’ve finished the yard.”
Dr. Madamba’s face all of a sudden lost the color the whisky had added to it and he put his glass down.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
It must have been the yard guy who was calling out like that. Hell, I’d even forgotten that he’s the reason I came over here ! I wanted to hear what they were saying to each other but couldn’t quite make it out. Funny, but usually I don’t try to listen in on other people’s conversation but I have to admit that at this time, the good doc was kind of an unusual guy.
“Yes sir,…yes Sir,…”
That’s about all I heard coming from somewhere else in the house. I could hear the doc saying something and then the young guy would respond real politely. Thing was, ..his voice sounded real flat too. Like there was no emotion in it. Then the door closed and I could hear the doc coming back down the hall. As he turned the corner I caught a glimpse of him in profile and I really noticed the tummy spilling over the belt. He smiled again and I saw he held something in his hand.
“Well thanks very much for the drink, doc, ..just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood and …”
Before I could finish he interrupted me.
“Brett, I’m so pleased to know that we’re going to be neighbors!”
He reached out and took my right hand in his but instead of shaking it he put this dvd in my palm.
“And since you mentioned that you work out and were so good to bring me this whisky I’m going to give you my number one best selling dvd on improving your concentration. It will help on your Series 7 studies and is great for relaxation too.”
His head kinda shook as he said that, almost like he was talking a commercial.
“Just listen to it before going to bed and I guarantee that you’ll see improvements in 4 to 6 weeks.”
“Well, thanks!”
I turned the shiny disk over in my hand a couple of times. It felt warm, like it had just been in a dvd player. He smiled that big smile of his again. It went from ear to ear.
“And just feel free to come back any time you like.”
“Great doc, and thanks again.”
I turned and left the room going out through the same front door as I entered. He seemed like a real nice guy but I was glad somehow to be out of there. The sun was hotter than ever, or maybe I was feeling the effect of the whisky. Anyway, I had to get back to work right away.
I kinda forgot about the dvd. It seemed like I was awful busy around those times. Suzie was always calling up and wanting to do something when I was studying, or trying to study, for the Series 7 exam. Work was brutal at that time too. Funny how it all seemed so important then.
Anyway, one evening a week or so later I decided to try out the dvd. It was late and I was tired and didn’t want to do any more studying for my test, which was coming up in three weeks. I was nervous as hell about it, but, fuck,…I was tired of studying and Doctor Madamba said the dvd would relax me. And I needed relaxing. Tomorrow I was going in for my interview for the Bond Trading Group. I’d been wanting to get into that group for the last six months. It offered the chance to make some real money and get me out of this cold calling to doctors and hardware store owners who think they know about the stock market—but don’t.
So I plopped the dvd in the player and settled back. It was funny because an FBI warning came up on the screen, just like this was a regular Hollywood production. And then a weird thing happened. The entire screen just went to snow, like there was nothing on the dvd at all. But this wasn’t the weird part,..there could be all sorts of reasons why it didn’t copy properly and everything. No, the weird part was that I must have sat there looking at this fuzzy screen for about an hour and a half ! Because when I noticed the time gain it was an hour and a half later and it had ejected. I decided I’d take it back to the doctor tomorrow and see about exchanging it for another dvd—this time one that had something on it. I sure slept good that night.
It was only 8:30 but already the day was blazing hot when I left the house with my study papers on the Bond Group in one hand and the defective dvd in the other. It was probably just nerves about the interview that made me focus so much about the dvd, but I wanted to talk to Dr. Madamba about it and get one that worked.
Before I entered the main door in the office/house where we had met I took off my suit coat and loosened the tie. The suit I was wearing didn’t feel good on a day like this but today was interview day and I had to look the part and, truth to tell, I looked pretty good in it. The doctor was standing in at the window that had been cut in a wall and divided the reception area from an adjoining room that was used as an office.
“Oh hi Doctor Madamba”
“Brett ! Good morning, how goes it today ?” His face scrunched up in a big smile, his double chin partially hidden by the white beard.
“Great, really got a good night’s sleep last night.”
“Glad to hear that Brett, how was the dvd working ?”
“I don’t think the dvd did anything, in fact there was nothing on it.”
“Nothing on it ?” He looked really puzzled. I could watch his belly move up and down as he breathed.
“Nope,..it was a complete blank.”
His mouth opened like he was going to say something, then stopped. He looked off to his left, and scrunched up his face again like he was trying to think of something, then spoke up.
“Brett, you should come over into the examining room for a couple of minutes, let me check something out.”
He motioned with his hand pointing back at his office, then turned and walked back toward the door. Waddle would be a better word for the movement of his body. There were already several things working against this as far as I was concerned: I didn’t want to go in to his office in the first place—didn’t he say he wasn’t a doctor any more ?
The sun was already blazing hot that made me sweat into my suit, I had the interview later this morning,..man I did NOT want this. Just as I was about to offer my regrets that I had to get going Dr. Madamba turned at the door into the hallway and spoke up:
“Brett, get in here ! “It was more like a command really,..the voice was very firm, but not harsh.
I didn’t want to go in but,..it was like I didn’t want him to be angry at me. But that didn’t make sense either,..he was only my neighbor. I couldn’t stand there thinking about it, this would only take a minute or two so I followed him through the reception room into the hallway as I was instructed.
As I remembered it from the other day, the whole place was overcooled from the air conditioner. I guess the fat guy didn’t like to sweat. “Brett, I’m in here,..in the examining room.” The ‘examining room’ was probably a converted bedroom with the closet turned into a kind of dispensary. I followed Dr. Madamba’s voice and went into the room.
Dr. Madamba sat down at a desk. It was a small desk and his seated position made his frame looked even bigger. The shirt button at his stomach had given way at some point and the gap exposed some wisps of grey body hair. He breathing was hard.
“Brett, you said you didn’t see anything on the screen last night, that the tape was blank. Well I know there was something on that and I just want to check out your eyes for a couple of things.”
“ I thought you said you weren’t a doctor anymore.”
He gave me a kindly, indulgent smile, like he was saying,…..”I’ve been asked that a million times before.”
“I surrendered my license rather than go through that bullshit with the insurance companies. Besides, I can help more people now with my motivational seminars and tapes than I could as a clinician.” He looked back down to the pad on his desk and started writing again.
I wasn’t sure why an insurance company would cause him to forfeit his license to
practice medicine, but it didn’t seem like the time to ask him about it.
“Hop up on the examining table, there’s a couple of things I want to check out.” I eased onto the edge of the table, my legs dangling over the side with each hand resting on a leg. There was an old style eye chart on the back of the door that he had already closed. The sound of the air conditioner whirred in the background. An air vent in the ceiling had a thin piece of tissue paper attached that was flapping as the chilled air circulated over it.
It looked like Doctor Madamba had finished writing on his pad and stood up. He had a kinda serious look on his face.
‘Brett, the tape I gave you was specially designed to show video that transmits visible images only in the first and last degrees of the screen. For you not to have seen anything may indicate a problem with the inferior rectus or superior oblique eye muscles. These are the ones that move the eye around in its socket. I just want to check a few things.”
Before I could reply he grabbed a tiny flashlight then turned out light in the room. Switching on the flashlight with his right hand he put his left hand on top of my head holding it firmly. With the flashlight pointed at my left eye he got really close to me, his face almost touching mine, probably not more than an inch separating us and told me to look straight ahead. I could feel the warmth of his face – it was that close to me, and I gotta tell you,…I didn’t like being that close to a guy, especially an old fat guy like this.
“Just keep looking straight ahead, I’m almost done with this one.” I could smell a sweet shaving cream or soap scent from where he shaved the upper portion of his beard. As he talked his breath spewed out and covered my face like a warm cloud. Instead of moving around to the other side of the table to look at my left eye he squeezed his hand that was holding my head in place and turned my head about 45 degrees so he could look into the other eye. It was very uncomfortable but at the time the only thing I could think of was that he was mashing my hair.
He finished and let go of my head then turned on a small light in the room. It was wasn’t the same overhead light that was on before but the source was somewhere behind him.
“Brett the health of the eye itself is normal,..that is reassuring. However there is one more test I want to do that would give a clearer indication if there is a problem with the muscle or not.”
“You’re thinking that there’s something wrong because I couldn’t see the video ?” I still wasn’t sure about what this was all about and why I was here, why I had agreed to come in here at all.
“I’m not sure about the muscle strength in your eyes.”
He was wearing one of those old fashioned white medical lab coats. This was over a crisp white shirt topped off with a red tie with a black pattern. As I looked closer I could tell it wasn’t a geometric pattern, but bore the black silhouette of tiny gryphons. The tie was held firmly in place by a gold tie clasp. The effect was very professional looking except that part of the shirt was stretched over his wide stomach, and a missing button.. Through the material I could detect two nipples perched on supporting rolls of fat. They looked like buttons too, poking against the material. I was guessing that each nipple would be half hidden in a small thicket of white hair.
I wondered to myself now long it had been since he had had any physical activity.
“My interest is in getting an idea of the muscle strength and how it’s operating. This test will determine how that muscle is able to follow a moving object.”
He was holding something in his hand that he had taken out of the desk drawer and was fingering it. I couldn’t see what that was because his hand was too puffy and big.
“This is a simple test.”
It seemed like his voice had changed, maybe deeper,..and softer too.
“The only thing you have to do,..”
He held up what he was holding. It appeared a coin or medallion of some kind, gold or gold colored anyway.
“..is turn your head forward and don’t move it….”
It was connected to a long gold chain.
“..and let the eye muscle do the work for you,..”
No, I think it was a watch.
“And as I allow the object to start swinging,..”
An old fashioned pocket watch, but with the cover closed.
“..you should follow the movement with your eyes,…”
It was very shiny.
“…and I’ll observe any unusual movements in that muscle.”
It seemed simple enough. He held it up high, right midway between my eyes and only about six inches in front of my face. Then, without even shaking his hand, the watch began to move. It was strange that way, just started to swing slowly to the left and then to the right.
“That’s right, just follow the movement.”
“Is it a watch ?”
“Yes, it was given to my grandfather by General Franco.”
“Notice how shiny it is ?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That’s because I take time, to polish it. Good things take time, don’t they Brett ?”
“I guess so.”
“You’re doing just fine.”
I was beginning to think this was a mistake. I was trying really hard to keep my eyes focused on the watch but either because it was so close or maybe because it was moving too fast, I seemed to get a little dizzy.
“You’re doing just fine, Brett.”
“Now what you may notice..”
“…as we progress,…”
“…is that you eyes,..’
“….start to get tired,…”
“…or that your body,..”
“…starts to get tired,,…”
“,…and that is normal,..”
“…but it’s really important,..”
“..for this test,..”
“…that you continue,..”
“…to follow the watch,..”
”…so I can see,..
”…how the muscle reacts,…”
It was kinda strange. Because I did notice. That I wasn’t dizzy anymore. But my eyelids.
Were real tired.
I started to blink.
“And what you will notice,..”
“…as we go on,…”
to blink
“ is that you’ll start to blink,..”
yeah really
“….more and more…”
“…feeling relaxed,..”
I got watery and
“…more heavy..”
and I got a feeling of also
“….try to follow,…”
“..the watch,..”
“…teary and heavy,…”
to blink
“…follow the watch,…”
“….and close now,..”
“Brett ? Mr. Harding !”
I snapped my head back like I’d been slapped or something.
“Brett, your eyes are fine. You’ll be glad to know that the muscle and interior of your eye checks out fine.”
I was glad to know that, but, it seemed like something was missing.
“What happened ?”
“What happened when, ?”
“Just now, it seemed like I blacked out or something.”
“No, Brett, I finished the test and you were so tired you closed your eyes and I let you catnap for a bit.”
I looked down at my watch. It was already 9:30
“Holy Shit!”
“Oh, excuse me, Doc, but I’ve got the interview at 10:30. It must have been more than a catnap !”
I’d lost about an hour of time. What did this mean? I know that this was a problem, but I didn’t have time to talk to him about it, or even think about it. I had to get out of there,… fast !
I got to the office in just enough time to go to the restroom and take a piss. I was sweating pretty good since I ran up the 10 flights of stairs instead of waiting for the elevators. I wanted to go over my notes about the Bond Trading Group before I went in to talk with them but I knew I wouldn’t have time now. I looked in the mirror and wiped off the sweat from my forehead. My hair needed smoothing down and I wondered whether I should have got a haircut for the interview. The sun had made it a couple shades lighter this summer. I left the restroom and headed for the conference room.
I had wanted to get into the Bond Trading for a long time. It sure beat the hell out of making cold calls in the Retail Group. It was a tough group to get into but I really wasn’t worried because, truth to tell, I can sell myself better than any stock (that’s how I got into grad school) and, more truth to tell, fairly attractive to women too which was important because one of the interviewers was going to be Cathy Burkhauser-Smith. She was the newest vice president and I could tell from last year’s Christmas party that she was really coming on to me. If I got on there it would give me the chance to make some serious money. Suzie and I could get married a lot sooner.
Although the office is business casual on Friday’s, I decided to do my power suit thing for this interview. This called for my $1,500 Brooks Brothers navy pinstripe. I know it’s an extravagance, after all, I’ve got $35,000 in frickin’ student loans ! But hey, every guy needs a good suit and I figured it was an investment, like my education. What’s another thousand bucks or so of debt ?
I walked into the conference room and surprise number one: they had taken out the big table and left just 4 chairs, three were in a row facing the fourth. Cathy was there in one of the three chairs. Now for surprises two and three: Bill Hardesty the HR idiot and his evil twin Saundra Shapiro from the Institutional Trading Group were there also. No matter, I’d ace it. I smiled wide enough so my dimples showed, then walked over and shook hands with each one before sitting down. I looked at each one of ‘em in the eye as I shook their hand.
The whole thing seemed to be going pretty good. They asked about my college, prior work, bullshit like that. I told them how my grades weren’t the greatest in my undergrad years but I knew I was going to get into the grad school I wanted. And I had really turned around my study habits once there. I was even elected to the Graduate Student Senate. A thing like that sure perks up the resume.
I told ‘em how I could add to the bottom line of the Bond Trading Group. I’d studied their monthly reports and threw out some of their past statistics. They were impressed, at least I think Cathy was. Hardesty was indifferent but Shapiro always seemed like she was suspicious of everyone. I think she just hated men. But then something strange happened that I couldn’t figure out at the time. We were more than half way through and I was sailin’ and Shapiro asked:
“Well Brett, you certainly seem to have got this down. Why don’t you tell me about your plans for the future.”
“My what?”
“Your plans-for-the-future; how you see yourself developing.”
She had a kind of smug look on her face, like she thought she found a phrase I didn’t know. I wanted to give her a reply that left no doubt about what I knew and where I was going but,. There was something about that phrase,..it meant something,…it said something about what I was supposed to do…and say,..
“I’m missioned to have activities that are functioning. That are performing. That are useful. That do something. So, I can’t be idle. I can’t be passive. I need experience and this is successful. I can’t do nothing. So, I want an opportunity. I want action and this is valuable.”
It was the weirdest feeling I think I ever had. I don’t know why I said what I did or where the words came from. It was like someone else was talking. The words just left my mouth. I looked up and they were looking at each other with these real puzzled expressions. For the first time I couldn’t think of anything to say. It seemed like forever but I guess it was only about a minute when Mr. Hardesty spoke up.
“Brett?”
He cleared his throat first like he was embarrassed to speak.
“Brett ? Why did you take off your shoes and socks ?”
“What !?” I said.
I looked down and I could see that at some point, it must have been when I was talking last, when I didn’t know what I was saying, I took off both my shoes and socks. My feet were bare. I could feel myself turning red. What the hell was this ?!?
“Mr. Hardesty, I’m uh,.I’m not sure,..”
I hastily started putting them back on again and out of the corner of my eye I could see Shapiro get this smug look of satisfaction over her face.
“We’ll let you know, Brett. Thanks for coming in to talk with us.” Cathy closed her notebook as she spoke, looking down. There was a hard edge to her voice. Her lips were stretched tight over her clinched jaw. I knew she avoiding looking directly at me. She felt embarrassed by my behavior since she is the one who wanted me to interview.
“We’ve got a full schedule of interviews this morning, so we’ll let you know something by the end of the week. ”
I could tell they wanted to end the interview right then. No small talk, no smiles, no handshakes. As I left my head was kinda spinning. I think I just blew the interview to get into the trading group, but I don’t know how it had happened, or why.
I went back to my cube to try to sort things out in my head. It was all beginning to make me feel sick in my stomach. Why had I done that ? Why had I answered like such a fuckin’ retard ?
Nothing made sense to me. I was always so good at figuring things out, and now it was hard for me to think. I’d try to play the scene over in my head, try to see myself doing it again but was no use. It was like seeing a cloud of mist each time and was making me real frustrated and anxious.
Just then I heard Don get up from his desk. He’s in the next cube over and we’ve always had a kind of competition between us. I knew that Don isn’t as smart as I am, at least that’s what I thought this morning when I got up. Last time promotions were announced I was promoted to a grade higher than he was though we started at the same time. The promotions are supposed to be ‘confidential’ but people tend to find out. When he did find out, he was maddern’ hell. I knew from the sound of his shoes on the floor he was headed over to my cube and not down the hall. He’d want to know about the interview.
“Hey guy ! how’d it go ?”
He was standing there smiling, his huge round face giving me his best shit eating grin. Don was the same height as I am, 6′1″ but about 50 lbs heavier, and that was all fat, no muscle. He spent a lot of money on his clothes and always tried to look real preppy, but at 26 he was a little bit old for that and about 100 lbs too big for it too.
“It went ok,” I started out telling him,..which was true,.they didn’t exactly throw me out, and the first part of the interview went real well.
“But,.after about half way, I don’t know,..I kinda lost the plot, didn’t know exactly what to say.”
I figured I ought to at least say that so when I didn’t get the transfer he would already know that I didn’t expect it.
“Aw gee that’s too bad.”
He stopped grinning and moved his head over and to the side so that his long stringy hair would not fall into his eyes.
“What do you think went wrong ?”
“Well, it’s like you prepare for certain questions and not others so that if they throw you a curve ball you don’t know what to say.”
That sounded ok too. Maybe talking about it with him would help me understand what had just happened. I had been sitting facing my computer with him standing to my right. But that last exchange with him got me thinking, so I turned out away from my desk to face him directly. I wanted to face him as we talked.
“Hey dude ! where’s your shoes and socks ?”
I looked down and saw my bare feet.
“Holy shit !” was the only thing I could think of to say.
“It’s alright Brett, really it is,..”
Suzie was propped up in bed, her back was against the big square pillows she had helped me to pick out. She was wearing the pink silk negligee I had bought for her birthday. I always got horny when she wore that. But not tonight. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately….”
She got that right.
“…and when that happens, the body doesn’t always respond the way you want it to.”
I had never failed to get hard for her before and I hated her for being so understanding.
“Yeah, that must be it.”
I took a deep breath and sighed. By this time I was sitting up in bed too. I pulled my legs up and wrapped my arms around them, resting my head on my forearms.
“The interview is for just one of many positions you can apply for…You said so yourself. Brett there will be other times, …even for this….”
She rested her head against my shoulder but I didn’t want to be touched.
“It’s more than that, Suzy,..the interview was three days ago,..and the truth is,..I don’t care about it anymore. And that’s what worries me. I should care. I don’t even want to study for the exam.”
“Your series 7 ?”
“Right.”
“But, that test is coming up next week, isn’t it?”
She was trying to sound calm but could tell she was upset by that bit of news.
“Yes it is, but since the interview, I haven’t cracked a book. It doesn’t seem to matter to me anymore.”
“It’s just the stress. You’ll be fine in a day or so, and when it’s all over we can get away for a few days,..drive up the coast,…find a motel,..”
Her voice was doing that low growl that I always found so sexy. At the same time she slid her left hand down and grabbed my lifeless dick.
“Lemme alone !”
I was surprised to say that, and she was too. But I didn’t understand what was happening to me. I got up out of bed and went to the kitchen to get something to eat. I had to figure out what was happening to me. It didn’t make sense that I would feel like this or not want Suzy’s attention. I felt confused. The best thing would be for me to talk this over with Dr. Madamba. I really felt like I should call him, talk to him. It’s the thing that I wanted most. But, truth is, I’m not sure why. Anyway, it was crazy to think of calling at this time. It’s 3 fuckin’ a.m. !
Naw, I’ll call him in the morning, get an appointment, and talk it over with him. I felt better now after deciding this. I rinsed out the juice glass and put it in the sink then started back to the bedroom and as I reached the door stopped and picked up the receiver from the wall phone and started to dial. It was the weirdest thing. I hadn’t planned to call anyone, it’s just that I felt compelled to do it. I wasn’t even sure what number I was dialing, it just seemed to come from nowhere. This was stupid,..who the hell was I calling at this time of night ?! It rang a couple of times and I so wanted now just to put down the receiver and go on to bed but then a voice answered.
“Hello?”
I knew right away who it was.
“Dr. Madamba?”
“Yes, Brett, I’ve been expecting your call.”
“You have? At this time ?”
“Yes, now listen to me,…”
I must have been more tired than I thought, because I honestly don’t remember any more of the conversation but when I got back to bed I felt much better.
“Who were you talking to?”
“I called Dr. Madamba. I thought he might be able to help.”
“At this time of night ?! Oh, Brett you shouldn’t have called him now.”
“Oh he didn’t mind at all, he said I could call anytime.”
“Well, what did he say?”
“Say? I don’t know. I mean, it’s not important. The important thing is that I’m with you now.”
It was strange, but now it was like I knew what I had to do: fuck her. I was hard and peeping out through my boxers that I usually sleep in. When she noticed me she stopped herself from saying anything else. I pushed her gently back on the bed…Suzie was happy.
The next few days were a kind of blur. I was super busy at the office trying to make up for the lousy interview. I knew that if I passed my Series 7 exam I would still have a shot at the Bond Trading Troup but if that failed I could always ask/look for work in one of the cushy retail brokerage offices in Westchester. The thing is, I couldn’t get the motivation to study. There was a mountain of material to learn and review but I hadn’t cracked a book in almost a month. It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried though. Many times I sat down and started to read when my eyes became so heavy, and I got so tired that I just couldn’t go on. Or, I didn’t seem to understand the concepts of what was being said in the materials. My mind would get cloudy, it didn’t make sense to me anymore. I got frustrated, then angry and so I stopped. And I was only doing review ! I should already have known this stuff cold,...
Finally I decided that I had to go back to see Dr. Madamba. He’s the only one who could help me overcome this slump I was in. I just knew that he was the only one who could help me. It reminded me of a batting slump I had when I played baseball in high school. For that, I got laid and that took me out of it, but even though things were good with Suzy, it didn’t seem to make any difference.
I made an appointment to see doc on Friday. The Series 7 test was Monday and I thought if he could give me something, or, if I could just hear his voice, I knew I would feel better. Something to help me to study. That’s all I needed. If I could hear his voice. I can almost hear it now as I write this, almost hear his voice in my head .. it was what I needed. To hear his voice.
Friday came and it was hard for me to think straight. Damn, I had a meeting with the Compliance Officer that afternoon, and I was hoping to get out early and crack the books. I could have moved that meeting to the morning but that would have meant not seeing Doctor Madamba, and I knew I had to see him. Of course, the Compliance Officer was not someone to trifle with. I was taking care of some of the registration papers on one of the IPO’s and he, or actually she, had some questions about it. A female Compliance Officer, hmm, this was a bit unusual.
This is what I was thinking about as I was getting dressed. Since the officer was female, I thought it would be better to make a good impression. I picked out my light charcoal grey two button suit I got at Barney’s earlier in the year. At $1,000 I knew it was also too expensive, but it really seemed to show off all the upper body work I’d been doing while keeping that custom made look. With casual Friday’s now entrenched, it was sure to make a strong statement to go to work wearing the kind of fine clothes people hardly ever see anymore. French cuffs on white Egyptian broadcloth were also a nice touch.
Also, getting dressed this way seemed to have a calming effect on me. Feeling the different textures of the cloth against my skin, and inhaling the very faint smell of the wool of the suit as I laid it out on the bed was a relaxing experience. That feeling seemed to float me along as I thought of Dr. Madamba and how I would soon be listening to him. The Compliance Officer would certainly understand about seeing Doctor Madamba. As I put on a pair of clean white boxers I considered that she might want to meet him too.
Did I mention I chose a white Egyptian broadcloth shirt? Nothing was better than Egyptian cotton, and then got out my black leather suspenders. I was taking my time. This was feeling good and I wanted it to last. The Compliance Officer would surely understand if I were a bit late. The tie felt especially good. I had to have a red tie. Nothing else would do. Always wear a red tie. I have several and the one I finally chose was an Italian textured silk with a thin gold stripe. I put a dimple in the knot and slipped it up snugly around my neck. I finished it out with my very conservative Brooks Brothers black wing tips and stood in front of the mirror for a minute to see if anything still needed to be done. Perfect. I closed my eyes for a moment, I hope he likes me I thought to myself. No she, the Compliance Officer, or no, did I mean he ?
I got to Dr. Madamba’s office about ten minutes before 10. The sun was blazing as usual and as I entered the waiting room the usual rush of cold air greeted me. No problem with the a/c here I thought to myself as I squinted hard to adjust my eyes to the dim reception area. Also as usual, the receptionist responsible for double billing the insurance companies, wasn’t there.
“Hello ?”
I called out. No response. Seemed like somebody had to be around, so I opened the door from the reception area and stepped back into the central hallway. Split off from this room were several rooms which I guess were examining rooms. Still no one there, and all I could hear was the sound of the ac and my own leather sole shoes sounding against the highly polished tile floor.
“Dr. Madamba ? Hello ? Anyone around?”
I was beginning to get a little spooked. No one was here, seemed like. It would be awful if he were called away to some life and death emergency. I might not be able to see or hear him today ! That thought made me start to sweat so I started down the hall and went into the same examining room I’d been in before. Nobody was there, but it gave a comfortable feeling to be there so I decided to wait there for a while to see if anyone came back.
The place looked the same except that in the corner was a television and dvd player. Maybe I could watch a little TV as I waited. I walked over and turned on the set. Damn ! there was no cable or antennae so I thought I wouldn’t be able to watch anything. Just then I saw that there was a dvd in the player. It might be interesting,.or,.could be a surgical operation, not sure if I want to watch that or not. I pushed the play button and held my breath. I sort of half closed my eyes in case this was a surgery. The machine whirred and clicked and after a few fuzzy images came into focus. I could only see the back of someone. The camera was kinda to the side and behind the person and the image was a little bit fuzzy. And then I heard The Voice.
“And you know you can call me whenever you want, don’t you ?”
“Yes Sir.”
It was Dr. Madamba talking ! That voice was an unmistakable sound,…..low …husky,..the cross between a growl and a purr.
“You know that you can call me at any time, day or night, and . ..very soon you’ll feel that you want to call, just to hear my voice.”
“Yes Sir.”
The camera was behind Dr. Madamba so I couldn’t see who he was talking to. The voice responding was faint, like he was half asleep.
“No matter what the problem is, you’ll always feel better when we talk. Which will make you want to talk more and more. You’re starting to understand that now, aren’t you ?”
“Yes Sir.”
“It’s so hard to think about things. Been so much stress in your life lately. It’s better not to think. Not to read or study. Better to listen. Listen and relax. Relax and obey. And as I count backward,”
“From 5 to 1”
“You’ll feel your intellect,
“Slipping away,”
“Going down,”
“Less and less intelligent,”
”More and more relaxed,”
“So good to relax, and obey,”
”Isn’t it, Bret?”
Bret ! That’s me !
“Yes, Sir.”
Dr. Madamba stepped aside and I could see that I was the one he was talking to!! Holy shit !! When was this !?? I was stunned. Dr. kept on talking but I couldn’t understand him, couldn’t force myself to concentrate on him, this was too amazing. I was here in what looks like this very room and we’re talking and I don’t remember a fucking thing !
“Yes, Sir.”
I just kept on repeating the same phrase. Agreeing with whatever he said. It was too bizarre for words. My heart was racing in my chest. I didn’t know what to do so I reached down and untied my shoes, they were so tight now.
“It’s better to relax, better to feel yourself letting go than to fight it. You’ll be able to relax now, won’t you ?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“The point of relaxation is that you won’t have to think. It’s better not to think, isn’t it Brett?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“It’s better to relax, isn’t it Brett ?”
“Yes Sir.”
“You like to relax, don’t you Brett ?”
“Yes, Sir. I like to relax, Sir”
And what will you do when you start feeling stress, Brett?”
“When, I………
“Go ahead Brett it feels so good to talk to me,..”
“These are part of your future plans, Brett,”
“Tell me what you’ll do,”
“When I feel stressed………..I’ll feel better when I ………..take off my shoes.”
“And socks..”
“That’s right Brett, when your feet are bare, it will feel so much better.”
I looked away from the tv and down and saw that, without realizing it, I had taken off both shoes. This was confusing to me. Why had I done this? I had to take a step back in my own mind and try to understand what was happening to me how I could be doing something and not understand what it was. It was like I was another person sometimes. The dvd kept on playing as I took off both my socks. I have to admit, it did feel good. So free, so much cooler, did it really matter why I had done it? Wasn’t it enough that I had ?
I carefully placed the two wingtips along the side of the examining table and turned back to watch the player. The sound wasn’t working as well now, it was all garbled. No wait, they were talking but I couldn’t understand the doctor. It was like he was speaking a foreign language. I could just understand my responses:
“Yes, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir, I will.”
It was so interesting to see myself on the TV. I’d been on TV before, interviewed for reports of companies and I never liked it. But now, it didn’t matter. I looked so, …relaxed. It was like watching myself and another person at the same time. I was not used to it, but it didn’t matter. Then the doctor said something and I could see myself climb up onto the examining table. My head was starting to buzz. Feeling like I was zoning out, so freaky but Then the door opened behind me.
“Brett why have you come here ?”
It was Doctor Madamba. The voice I had been waiting for. To hear it. To listen to him again. I turned around and saw him. My heart was beating 100 times a second. I felt relaxed but it was hard for me to concentrate. Hard to form the words in my mouth even though I knew what I wanted to say.
“Why are you here Brett?” he asked me again, this time softer and started to take a step toward me as the door to the examining room closed behind him.
“I’m here to discuss plans for the future, Sir.”
The doctor smiled. I do hope I was pleasing him.
“Your plans for the future are changing aren’t they Brett?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Anything else, Brett?”
“It’s time for my anal exam now, Sir”
I don’t know why I said that. It’s not what I had wanted to say, or intended. I wanted to tell him how much I wanted to hear his voice again. Instead I asked him for an exam. I was afraid he would be angry with me. How stupid. But I didn’t care. As long as he paid attention to me. “I’m glad you came here today Brett. This marks an important point in your treatment.”
“It does ?”
Doctor Madamba took a step closer and reached out with his left hand and grabbed hold of my tie. Winding it around his left hand he used it almost like a leash and pulled on it, drawing me close to him. Only about six inches separated us now.
“But before your anal exam, you’re going to pay close attention to what I’m going to tell you.”
“I’m going to give you some instructions,..”
“And you’re going to pay attention,..”
“To my words,…”
“And to my voice,…”
Yes, pay attention to his voice. It was almost against my ear. I could feel the warm breath on my cheek as he spoke, the sound of his voice going into my head. I blinked a couple of times. I didn’t know what to say. The pull of the tie was choking me a bit. I felt a little spacey, like I felt just before he came in. With his right hand he pulled out the same pocket watch I remember from the earlier time. It was so shiny. Hard not to look at it.
“Brett, you’re going to look at the watch and follow its movements as I test the strength of your eye muscles. That’s it, back and forth.”
His voice was low and soft now. It sounded so good, I wanted to look into his eyes, but he told me to look at the watch so I had to do as he said.
“And as you look at it, and follow its movement, you’ll know when the fatigue sets in.”
“You’ll know because that’s when your eyelids will start to get heavy. When they start to droop. And when that happens, you’ll want to start to blink more often.”
Everything he said was true. I wanted to follow the movement of the watch, so he could help me with my eyesight, but my eyes were starting to get so tired now. It was like they had weights attached to the eyelids.
“You may feel as if weights are attached to the eyelids, and they’ll start to get so heavy that you won’t be able to stop from blinking.” My head was buzzing. Spinning. I think it was from the tie around my neck. I wasn’t getting enough oxygen and I should have punched him in his soft stomach to make him let go. But I could hardly raise my eyelids let alone my fists. “And very soon, you’ll find you can’t open your eyes at all, and when that happens you’ll know that you’ve gone into a very deep trance.”
I’m not sure anyone reading this has ever had the experience of being on a roller coaster that only goes downhill. Or maybe being on a boat caught in a whirlpool that keeps spinning around pulling you toward the center,orlistening to someone talking to you but from another room. I can tell you it’s also hard to talk when your head falls forward on your chest. That’s what happened to me, Brett Harding. And I found myself responding to everything that Dr. Madamba was telling me to do. It was all so clear now. No more resistance or denial. No attempt to leave. After all where would I go? I had no place to go and nothing to do all day.
“Take your suit off Brett. Then turn around and bend over the examining table.”
I found myself saying “Yes Sir” just as that guy did in the dvd. As I took off my suit and laid it carefully on the chair I found that I was also hard, my dick was standing out perpendicular to my body. I was as hard as I’d been when I was here the last time.
Doctor Madamba smiled at me as he poured some liquid over his right middle finger then unzipped his trousers. It was kind of funny. I was just like that guy on the television now.
The bell indicated that someone had entered the reception area. The guy was younger than I was, but only by a few years, and not as tall either. But he was well built and his black slicked back hair gave him a kind of attitude.
“Is this the place for the drug test ?”
“Yes it is.”
I came out from around the window to hand him the specimen bottle.
“Dude, do you work here !?”
He seemed very surprised.
“Dressed like that ?”
I looked at myself wondering what had surprised him. I had on cutoffs, a pale green tee shirt, a fresh buzzcut, and was barefoot, of course. I smiled back at him, showing my dimples probably.
“Dr. Madamba likes us to be comfortable.”
“And yes, I do work here. I was lucky Dr. Madamba gave me this job after I flunked the stock broker test.”
Changing the subject I said, “We have the fastest turnaround time for lab tests in the city, but first, all we ask is that you watch a video.”
“A video?”
“A dvd really, only takes a few minutes, you probably won’t even remember it, but I think it makes an impression.”
I put my hand on the young guy’s shoulder and guided him into the inner hallway…..