Chapter 14: The Trap is Sprung

The next day I started to put my plans into motion and called my father. The first thing he asked was where had I been and where was I now? He said it had been like I had dropped off the face of the planet. My father even mentioned a friend of my mother’s. Robert’s widow Rebecca, she had been asking about you on behalf of her son, “ ... You recall him, don’t you? A fine boy and an up and comer. Your grandfather would have liked him.” Hearing that from him was like twisting a knife in my gut. But I didn’t let that enter my voice.

I knew what I needed to do, and that was to have my father talk me into returning to the fold. The idea was to make him think he had won me over and that it had been all his doing. I might have felt ashamed at manipulating my father like this at another time. But too much was at stake to tell him the truth.

My father was an important individual from conception. It had always been so for him. As my grandfather’s only son and child, his life was more or less pre-planned out for him. He had been given the best of everything. However, my grandfather later confessed to me that he felt the most significant mistake he had made as a father. He had made things too easy for his son. Thinking like many parents, he had wanted things to be better for his son so that the son did not have the same struggles as he’d had as a young man.

Grandfather was still a young man when his wife presented his son to him. He had sworn at the time that his son would have the best he could provide in every area, that he would want for nothing, would never need to cry. As my father grew, my grandfather realized his mistake and sought to rectify it. But unfortunately, it turned out that it was too late. The bad habits were already ingrained, and my father was not about to change what worked for him.

As any parent can attest, babies do not come with instruction manuals. It is the same for the rich, as well as the poor. In that one respect, all people are equal. As a side note. Just why, after over more than five or six thousand years of recorded history, has such a manual not been developed as part of becoming a parent? I mean, almost everything comes with an instruction booklet. Just wondering.

Our experience raising an infant and then a child is more or less what we can recall of our own childhood. The good and the bad and the ugly. As with most things, the bad experiences are usually the ones we remember the longest and the ones we like to keep our own children from experiencing. Maybe as a parent, you watched in horror as your child headed off the family bed headfirst. Unable to catch them in time, they crashed onto the floor with the expected pain. With you unable to explain why what they just did hurt them. You might notice that they might only do this once more before deciding to back of the bed feet first. You didn’t teach them this. They came up with it on their own.

Cause and effect are perhaps the earliest lessons an infant learns. They cry. They are quickly picked up, comforted, changed, or fed. Simple when you realize it. Congratulations, you have just been manipulated by a baby not yet three months old.

Sometimes it may take years before we as adults realize some of the things our parents did and didn’t do for us were for our own good, even the most painful ones. Often, parents only realize well past the most critical times in their baby’s development their errors. Unfortunately, by that time, the damage is already done and is irreversible in most cases.

One of those areas is not allowing a child to explore its world and make its own mistakes. Mistakes cause and effect are a part of the learning process. More than that, they are essential. For many people, new parents being no exception, seeing their child fail is a no-go. Seeing their child hurt is often called being a bad parent. This problem is that it robs the child of a learning experience.

When we think back, the lessons we often recall most often are those that may have caused us the most pain. For instance, a baby wants off its parent’s bed, they will often go head first, with the expected bump on the head that causes the baby to cry. This crying is not so much for the pain it has suffered, but it realizes it made a mistake that causes itself pain. The next time a baby tries to get off that same bed, it may try to back off, landing on its feet and not its head. This might have to be done more than once, but the baby learns through trial and error. As painful as watching, a parent will impede learning quickly by not letting it do that. Maybe what actually makes it uncomfortable to watch is that we remember that we, too, once fell headfirst off a bed.

A baby is perhaps at its best at learning within the very first days of its life. We, as adults, have forgotten those times. But when you sit back and think about it, everything a baby sees, hears, tastes, and touches are for the very first time. Some parents sit and watch with wonder as their child sees and experiences something for the first time. It takes time to build up a core of memories that help us learn. Watch a toddler closely, and you will see it trying to manipulate a parent, using many different ploys, till it finds one that works.

There are many milestone firsts that a child often learns on its own. Rolling over, crawling, pulling its self-up, its first step, and many more after those. And who knows how many more unseen achievements. If a parent hovers over a child helping every step of the way, removing obstacles, they may actually retard a child’s learning and confidence, delaying these milestones by weeks if not months and years.

Just think about your reactions even now when confronted with something new. Experience often tells us that some new things are hazardous and may even be dangerous until we learn how to deal with them. We know to deal with them using trial and error and our experiences over the years. The first try is often an error, and most mistakes hurt. But we keep at it until we succeed.

My grandfather told me by giving my father what he wanted as soon as he wanted it. By removing obstacles, he had distorted his son’s learning processes. He had little incentive to try different ways to get what he wanted. Early on, he developed a sense of entitlement and no longer felt a need to work creatively to get what he wanted.

Grandfather explained that this was how there had been so many incompetent monarchs recorded over the centuries. They had quite literally been spoiled. Just in case any of you wanted to know the origins of that expression.

Grandfather never spoke of his own wife. In fact, I hadn’t recalled anyone within my hearing speaking about her. I had always expected him to, sooner or later, and now it was too late to ask. But there were times I felt he was thinking about her, though he never said anything about it. It seemed as he did this more whenever I asked about my lost love. Then, years later, I learned my grandmother had died giving birth to my father. It might have explained a great many things had I known.

Grandfather was able to instill a work ethic in his son. However, there was still a lack of creativity and experimentation that led to new ways of doing things. Consequently, it was that he never fully developed his problem-solving skills. It was not so much that my father didn’t know how to solve a problem. It just wasn’t as intuitive as it should have been, nor did he want to, when he could just get others to do it for him. To top it off, my father was not a natural leader.

Father’s approach was one of brute force. It was what he had learned as a baby as being the best and quickest way to get what he wanted, and he rarely experienced the pain of not getting it. Simply put, there had been no one to tell him ‘No’ nor explain why he shouldn’t have what he wanted.

His business dealings were carried out much the same way. He always had his position in the company was never in doubt. He hadn’t had to work for it. But he had no qualms about making others work to provide him with what he wanted. He felt he was successful when he got it, not really recognizing the work others put into it. As a result, his problem-solving skills were not as ingrained as they might be, and without that sharpness, there was a corresponding loss of vision.

For most of his life, he was able to get away with it. But, as Grandfather came to learn, his son was not a visionary, nor in any way a problem solver in his own right. His son simply looked for what he wanted and had others get it for him. He was doing that with me, doing what he wanted when he wanted. Wanting me back in the firm. I don’t know if he even realized why, other than my one prep-school experience where I had shown him, I could get things done in a big way if, as he said it, ‘I put my mind to it.’

He realized this when he started to groom my father for leadership and came to realize his son had no vision or, at best-confused goals with vision. Mostly personal greed. Grandfather quickly realized this in time to intervene with my own childhood development, before my father and mother had a chance to do to me what my grandfather had done with him and ruin me for leadership.

Countless generations of breeding and family lessons had made him a somewhat good leader. Still, not one Grandfather thought he could entrust with the family’s future. As bright as he was, Father could be blindsided and misled, though most people wouldn’t dare think to do so. Not with my grandfather watching. That is within our family. But the other twelve heads had no such hesitation.

Father was constantly finding himself on the defensive and just didn’t seem to see it coming until it happened. Then he would try to bully his way out of it. This was possible because of the family’s placement first. Then Grandfather would bail him out when Grandfather felt it was in the family’s best interest to do so. Father was learning. After all, he was a product of what the family had done for generations. Finally, however, Grandfather realized it was a case that father would never catch up to his peers. He wasn’t ready, and he likely never would be.

Grandfather was on hand for my birth. Because of my mother’s lack of interest, it was easy for him to take over my upbringing. As a result of letting me explore the world around me and making my own mistakes, I learned the problem-solving skills I would need later in life. I was quick even as a young child. So soon after, my grandfather had taught me to play chess. I was easily beating my father the few times he faced me. He finally gave up on it, failing to get the better of a mere four-year-child at a simple game. Yet covering for it with a sort of pride that he would tell others his son could beat him at a child’s play. Though I’m not at all sure others bought into it. After all, even I realized chess was not really such a simple game.

For lack of a better term, my father was easy to manipulate. I was doing it now, shamelessly.

“Father, you know I have other interests, now.” Then I added, “Father, I needed the time. I had to get away. I was in too much pain. Surely you can understand that.”

Apparently not. “Son, you can’t escape your duties. How your grandfather put up with it, I don’t know, but he is dead now it’s time you returned to your responsibilities.” That was like another twist of the knife.

Now was the time to select the lure for my trap and bait it.

“Father, you know how I feel, and my grandfather was very supportive. But I just need more time. I want to finish my work at MIT. I feel I am so close, maybe just a few more years...”

I could almost see his face turn red. “Just a few more years? What the hell are you doing there? We offered you a full ride at Harvard business school. I know I can get you transferred with just a few strings pulled. You know how it will make your mother happy.” He was dangling his own hook but without any real enticing bait on it. Harvard business school would have been a mere formality. I could have taught the classes better than their professors.

With difficulty, I kept a straight face at the thought of making my mother happy. Was that even possible? The only thing I could think of that had ever made her happy was always having things go ‘her’ way. I never understood what my father saw in her. But when I had seen pictures of her in her youth, she would have made quite a catch, a beauty pageant winner if all you were looking at was her appearance. She was an apparent beauty, from a well-off and respected part of the family distant enough to make marriage possible.

When I got older, I dug into her background at school out of curiosity. I learned she was the worst nightmare of the other girls. She represented all that was wrong with the social caste system in schools. What every girl aspired to become but didn’t want to be subjected to. A comment from her, here or there, could make or break a girl’s social standing. And even back then, she was a vengeful person who simply wouldn’t tolerate anyone making her look imperfect, real, or imagined. A story that kept circulating was that a girl had committed suicide over a minor incident. My mother had bragged to her inner circle that she had driven the girl to it. Bullying at its worst.

Was it any wonder I had worked to escape that poisonous atmosphere as soon as I was able?

“Your Mother still gushes with pride, recalling that story of when you destroyed your class opponents in prep school, achieving the highest score ever. Meaning I had made a lot of money. Forcing the rest of the class to retake it after failing so miserably.

Yes, I could see that her background would be a source of pride.

I could hear the pride in his own voice with that memory as well. It was a shame they had not shared the same pride in so many of my other accomplishments. But those had nothing to do with business. Such as my awards in various science projects, becoming Captain of my ROTC class, or the honors I received upon graduating first in my class. But, as there had been no cash prize, it hadn’t mattered. Being the top honors grad was simply something they expected, even though my own father and mother had not done nearly so well.

I had done a similar check on my father’s coursework at Harvard. It was disappointing to learn that he had others doing his work for him even then. However, he found he would not be graduating at the top of his class. He made a point to boycott the young man who had done so much work for him. It was top-notch work, as well, and just may have given my father his much-coveted honors had the administrators not learned of it. It was all my grandfather could do to not have him expelled and was just barely allowed to graduate, but nowhere near the position he had sought. Of course, he blamed that on the young man as well.

Grandfather had heard of what his son had done, barring the lad, and had hired him to work in his own firm, though where his son would never see or hear of him. So, when I met him, I liked the man instantly and hired him to head one of my offices.

Yes, I know I said I was not interested in playing the game. However, I had big dreams, and I needed the wealth for them. I may not have enjoyed the business world, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know where the money was. Besides, with my manager running it, I didn’t have to. On the contrary, I paid him well to do so, giving him a percentage of earnings and giving him a free hand, for the most part. The better he did, the better his ratio.

As far as that business class exercise went, I felt any fool could have done the same thing; I was just not interested in doing it for the rest of my life.

I said, “Father, it was nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing? You set those kids back a year. Damn good job, too. I can use you in the family business with gumption like that. You will be the company president when I retire, and nobody will protest. I noticed he had not said the Family Head.

As I thought, ‘Other than myself, that is.’

“Father, I still have my paper to finish.”

“The hell you say! Hire some flunky to finish it for you! Your time is too valuable to waste there.” That was my father, alright.

“Father...” giving him a chance to press on with his argument.

“Son, your mother, wants you home, and out of the cave, you call a residence. She has a nice girl all picked out here for you to meet. I have met her, splendid young woman. She and your mother get along famously.”

“Father, I don’t...”

“Don’t what? She’s perfect for you!” Then he went on confidentially, “If you want something on the side, well I can arrange something like that for you, no need for your mother or the young lady to know about such things. (That was the first I had heard of any infidelities between him and my mother, though I can’t say I was surprised.). Come home, meet with her, and then you can announce whether or not you want to marry her. She’d make a great match. Her family already has strong family ties to ours, and they are looking for grandchildren.” I felt the last thing on earth my mother would want is grandchildren, the very notion it would make her sound old to herself.

Was it any wonder I wanted to get away from all that? He and my mother already had me married off to someone I had never even seen. Or soon would. If not this girl, they would find the next one at the next Debutante Ball and push her on me. I had no doubt they may have even arranged a marriage for me, and this girl was just to set me up for her. For them, it was a sellers’ market, and I was the merchandise.

With that, there was a pang in my heart as I thought of the girl I did love. Where had she gone and why? What’s more, why couldn’t my grandfather or I find her? What was going on here? She couldn’t have had the resources herself to simply vanish.

I heard my father call my mother on the phone.

Then I heard her voice gushing as she asked, “Son, just when are you coming home? We all just miss you. But, don’t just keep us waiting here. I just have my close friend’s daughter here, dying to meet you. You will just fall in love with her.”

She must have handed the phone back to my father without waiting for my reply. Then, thinking with her brief, one-sided chat, she had sealed the deal, talking me into coming home.

“You heard your mother. She expects you home. When can I tell her you’re arriving?

Ok, now was the time to ask for a few conditions to appear. I was giving in. The hook baited, time to dangle it.

“Okay, Father, I guess you’re right, but before I do come back, may I ask you something? You know how close Grandfather and I were?”

“Yes,” he replied. Though I don’t believe he did, never having been that close to him himself.

“I would like to have a ‘Family’ dinner, one of the whole family, to honor Grandfather for what he has done for the family.

With his placing ‘you’ at its head. ‘you’ can demonstrate to the family that ‘you’ have firmly taken up the family’s reins.

You can announce that ‘you’ have me coming back into the fold. When ‘you’ have me finish at Harvard. To take whatever position ‘you’ have in the firm for me. ‘You’ might even hint that mother has a special young lady waiting in the wings for me.”

There was nothing like playing on his ego, saying ‘you’ were in charge. And I did it shamefully.

I went on, “That would be a splendid idea, and it just might please mother ... that, and throwing a surprise social event, which would reflect well on her.”

Yes, I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Something to please my mother was always a good thing.

Father answered, “That is splendid news. Your mother will be so pleased and relieved to hear that. Plus, your mother would enjoy planning a party of that sort.”

I yanked hard, setting the hook.

I stressed, “The whole family, father not just the inner circle. They should all be there. I want them all to understand ‘you’re the new head and that ‘you’ have talked me into coming home.” Hammering home, the ‘you’ into him.

I stressed again, “I want them all to know what Grandfather meant to me, and what I meant to him, and that they should honor ‘you’ now that ‘you’ control the family.”

“Of course, son, splendid idea! Whatever it takes to get you back. Your mother will be so pleased! She’ll enjoy planning the whole thing out. Now when can we expect you?”

The hook now firmly set, I now had to give the illusion of one last struggle for freedom.

“Well, Father, I’m just putting the finishing touches on my doctorate paper.”

He broke in, “That again? Can’t you drop that now; just what was it about, anyway?”

“Physics, Father, you know that.” I didn’t really believe he did.

“Oh, yes, your grandfather did mention something like that. I can’t say it’s all that important to me and can’t say that I ever approved. But he backed you, so I had no further say about it. But he is dead, now. So, you don’t have to do anything more to prove yourself to him, and your Mother and I want you home.”

I was sure he wasn’t thinking back to his need to prove things to his father or of his many failures to do so.

“Well, I will speak with your mother about this dinner thing. A damned splendid idea, son. I’m sure she will love it, and maybe it will take the attention off this ‘Will’ thing. Damn nuisance that! I thought your grandfather would have drawn up a more competent Will than that.

I will be most pleased to let the family know that you will follow in my footsteps, entering Harvard as your mother and I both wished and then entering into the firm. Someday maybe taking over from me when I decide to hand over the reins,” as he went on needlessly.

I was reasonably sure it be over his cold dead body that I would finally take up the so-called reins. But, unfortunately, he already seemed ready to dismiss me from the phone call.

I spoke up, getting his attention, “As soon as possible, Father?”

“Huh? What? Oh, yes, splendid idea, Of course, Son, the sooner you’re back into the fold, the better,” he said absently.

He hung up, and I was left listening to the dead air of a dial tone. Yes, that was the way he did things. Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t believe it. It was now set in motion. I knew it would happen. He wanted me back, and if this was what it would take, he would do it. The best part of it, for him, as he hadn’t had to plan or think of any of it.

Grandfather had not been kidding when he said he had already brought in all the latest advances. The personnel that started trickling in were most pleased to find them, not wanting to start from scratch. Many of the people were surprised to see each other. The cover of selling the companies had worked as I had thought. No one would think of looking for them here. While most were not keen to live below ground, the increase in pay and an inspection of the luxury accommodations silenced their protests. For not having the hellish commute many of them had faced day after day, they joked they might have forgone the raise, though none did.

The many amenities planned for the family turned out to be a significant plus for keeping them onsite. The wives could be taken by private jet for their shopping trips to anywhere in the world. A perk they had never enjoyed before. Since most already knew each other, they had no problem reforming the clubs that had kept them busy. More than a few were actually aiding in their husband’s work, being Doctors in their own right.

My little man was set up in his own lab on the far corner of the compound. He seemed most happy with the robotics that was to aid him. But, of course, Adam was there to direct them, freeing him from other people distracting him from his work.

I don’t know why I hadn’t found out his name, and Adam always merely referred to him as his creator. Surprisingly, Nick had come up empty as well, much to his embarrassment, though he never showed it. The little fellow seemed quite content with his anonymity.

I found that there appeared to be more than enough room for me to do some of my own research, set up my own lab, and possibly finish my paper. I returned to it as I felt it was now or never, for soon, I was afraid the dealings of running the family’s affairs would take up more and more of my time.

I started making arrangements for my own lab to be set up and assistants to be hired. I was still in the planning stages and unsure what I would need. But as I was making plans, it was becoming more apparent. I quickly became involved with my true calling, and working on my Ph.D. was moving forward again. Now I would also be able to include lab work and results. I was starting to feel happy once again.

The girls seemed to follow me everywhere. When I was in the gym working out, they did the same. When Nick offered to instruct me on some basic self-defense, the girls smiled and volunteered to be assistants. He agreed that they should know something about it as well, and the girls just giggled.

Walking out to the middle of an exercise mat with Nick, he patiently started out giving me pointers for basic self-defense. In no time at all, he had thrown me all over the mat. And I was starting to collect a lot of bruises. I was beginning to think self-defense meant getting my ass handed to me. He said I had to learn how to fall to absorb and disperse the energy to not get hurt by it. I ended up on the floor a few more times, not really feeling I was doing all that much dispersing, but plenty of absorbing energy ... well, let’s call it what it was: PAIN! I was in no mood for more.

I bowed out from receiving any further instructions for the time being. Hoping the pain would soon go away. Did the suit have to turn itself off for this sort of training?

Wind Song chirped up that she would love to benefit from Nick’s instructions.

They moved out to the middle of the mat. Nick looked a bit unsure. He towered over the girl and didn’t want to hurt her. But Nick wanted to show his own competence and control. So beginning, he said OK, I want you to attack me, and I will demonstrate to you how to defend yourself.

She moved forward to make her attack, and he made a grab for her. A blur followed as Nick found himself flat on his back, feeling very uncomfortable. Nicky giggled. I didn’t know how to react, seeing my head of security taken out by a mere slip of a girl.

I wasn’t sure what I had seen. “Nick? I think you must have slipped,” I offered. “Try again.”

He picked himself up, and they again faced each other. This time he said he was ready, and for Wind Song to begin her attack, Nick was now observing her carefully. I don’t know what he had seen earlier, but clearly, he had. He watched her approach, he carefully moving back to adjust his stance to defend, his hands reaching out...

He was flat on his back again. If anything, I saw less this time than I had before. Okay, I was now questioning my own eyes. Nick was on his back again with Wind Song standing over him. This time Nicky was trying very hard to suppress her giggles.

I offered, “Maybe Wind Song should try to defend against you, Nick, and you show us how to defend against it,”

He nodded and set himself up in an aggressive stance, and I saw he was about to move in. I must have blinked because the next thing I saw was Nick on his back again, this time holding his hands out in submission.

Nick got back up, standing formally bowed to Wind Song and then into hand to hand combat posture. Wind Song returned the formality, but I didn’t see her assume any sort of posture.

Nicky beside me said, “Hajimé!” Begin I was about to ask where Nicky had learned that word. As I watched.

I’m no expert, but I was reasonably sure I saw Wind Song let Nick place his hands on her before ... when I again saw Nick on his back.

Nick got up, facing Wind Song, and formally bowed, which Wind Song returned. Then, he turned to face me. Then, with his usual straight face, he said, “I don’t believe I can help these girls advance any further.”

For once, the girls did not giggle. Instead, both gave Nick a deep bow, which Nick returned, then he made his way out.

I simply stood there, stunned.

Lesson number? Some things may not be what they appear to be.

I now had another puzzle piece. Just how it fit, I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t even sure it was part of the same puzzle.

It was not long before I was informed by my father that the dinner was arranged, and all the family would be in attendance. Of course, some would be remotely watching for security reasons. But they would have a direct feed to everything going on.

I asked about Robert junior, the young man who had seemed to take such an interest in my whereabouts. I confessed that I had been studying up on him, and it was likely I could use him as my executive assistant. My father agreed that it was a splendid idea that he couldn’t have made a better choice. Seeing how the young man was an up and comer and on the fast track to success.

I offered that he and his mother sit at the main table. He was a bit hesitant. I don’t think he wanted any distractions to himself, as a young unknown seated at the table. Still, seeing how this would cement my return, he agreed.