Chapter 63: Departures

May 31, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

“I take it this party will be tame?” Huifen asked as we boarded the train at Union Station.

“Given Allyson’s parents and their friends will be there, I’m positive that’s the case.”

“Besides the girls from the party at Loyola, who’ll be there?”

“Her friends from High School who aren’t away at college. I met a number of them at her New Year’s Eve party.”

“I bet you have to deflect advances from her little sister! She has a serious crush on you!”

“That’ll be easy,” I replied. “I’ll have you by my side!”

“Will there be dancing?”

“I have no idea. The only thing Allyson said was that they’ll have burgers, brats, and hot dogs, along with all the usual fixings and sides. Other than that, and about eighty people, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Maybe her parents are swingers,” Huifen teased.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“An open marriage where they have sex with other couples, but only in certain, controlled circumstances.”

“OK, that’s not quite what I thought, but somehow I doubt that’s the case!”

“You never know!”

“I’d say it’s a safe bet,” I chuckled.

The doors of the train closed and a minute later, it pulled out of the station.

“I take it stuff like that happens in California?”

“Allegedly,” Huifen replied. “Sure, there’s ‘free love’ but outside of the communes of the 60s and 70s, I don’t think it’s all that different from the rest of the country. I mean, people have sex, it’s just they’re not open about it. And last I checked, those two parties at Loyola weren’t in California!”

“Don’t you think there’s a difference between a bunch of college kids fooling around and ‘swinging’?”

“Sure, but my point was, California is just more open about sex than most places. I’m guessing where you’re from in Ohio is pretty conservative.”

“It is. Cincinnati itself is ultraconservative when it comes to anything to do with sex. Well, talking about it or selling magazines. I don’t know the details, but I recall some guy sending out magazines with pictures from some war which were really, really gory to protest not being able to sell his magazine.”

“Larry Flynt,” Huifen said. “I think that was the mid-70s when he did that. I’m pretty sure that was when Cincinnati tried to ban Hustler. It’s pretty disgusting, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve never seen it.”

“Disgusting how?”

“Playboy and Penthouse are more artistic, and not all that different from the nudes we saw at the Chicago Art Museum. Hustler has girls with their legs spread wide open, facing the camera. Stuff you only see in X-rated movies.”

“I’m pretty sure those are banned in Cincinnati.”

“A lot of theaters won’t show them, but the new VCRs make it so you can watch them at home, if you wanted to.”

“Have you seen one?”

“No. There are theaters in San Francisco that show them, but you have to be eighteen, and even so, I had no interest in seeing one.”

“And watching me have sex with the other girls?” I asked.

Huifen laughed, “Not something I would have even considered before I met Paula! Would you be interested in seeing one of those movies?”

“Not particularly. My boss suggested I get a videotape machine so I could rent Caddyshack.”

“That’s a good one. It’s really funny. Chevy Chase from Saturday Night Live is the main star, and it also has Rodney Dangerfield.”

“My boss compared someone we interviewed to a character from the movie. A rich kid who was a moron.”

“Spaulding, the judge’s kid, it had to be.”

“Yes, I think so.”

“I think a VCR would be a good thing to buy.”

“Bianca strongly suggested I buy an Apple II because it’s the computer the school uses for its introductory programming class; it’s also the computer some of the Suits have on their desks.”

“You just bought the Atari, though, right?”

“Actually, it belongs to my business partner, Jeri. I think I told you that.”

“You’re right, you did. Sorry. Make sure you research before you buy, because they’re always coming out with new features and new models. Apple is probably the one that will win in the end, though IBM is going to compete with them.”

“Do you have a rough idea of the cost?”

“I’d guess a model that did everything you wanted, and had a floppy disk, would cost around $2000, with everything.”

“That’s an awful lot of money for a computer. The Atari is about half that price.”

“It’s much more powerful, really. I’m not an expert, but my High School had Apple IIs and Commodore PETs, and the Apple II blew everything else away. And, if you don’t need to buy a car, you’ll have the money for the computer.”

“That remains to be seen,” I replied. “But my boss thinks Mr. Matheson will follow through on his promise.”

“For the cost of a car, you could buy the computer, the VCR, and a nice stereo, and still have money left over. You’re going to be buying furniture either way, and I know you have that budgeted. The salary they offered you is more than a lot of college graduates make, so you’ll be in great shape.”

“I was really surprised at the number, but compared to what the Suits make, it’s peanuts. That’s not a complaint, just an observation.”

“And you’ll be making that kind of money in the next four or five years, right?”

“If I perform as well as I believe I will, yes.”

“And your investments are doing really well, right?”

“So far, yes.”

“Then I’d say the investment in the computer makes sense. Especially if you want to learn to use it for analyzing your trades and develop some kind of computer model to help you know what trades to make.”

“I need math classes, for sure.”

“Yes, but you earned an A in your course and there was quite a bit of math, right?”

“Yes, but all stuff I learned in grade school. There wasn’t even really much algebra.”

“But you created formulas in your spreadsheets, right?”

“With quite a bit of help from Bianca.”

“But you learn each time she helps you, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think you have your priorities correct — the computer class first, then math and statistics. I’m pretty sure, given what you’re proposing, a degree in statistics and a minor in math would be your best plan.”

“Not business or finance?”

“You’ll learn those from your mentor, right?”

“Yes.”

“Can he teach you calculus and advanced statistics?”

“Doubtful, given he didn’t go to college.”

“Did the guy who owns the company go to college?”

“Yes. He has a business degree from Wharton.”

“An MBA?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how he got his initial seed money?”

“He inherited around fifty million in 1974 and has turned it into about 300 million, roughly, according to the Spurgeon propaganda that he sends to prospective investors. All of his money is invested in the firm, which is supposedly how it’s done because it creates confidence in people who invest with you because they know your money is on the line. That’s why as soon as I move upstairs, I’m supposed to begin investing in the Spurgeon Select Fund, so that I have what Mr. Matheson calls ‘skin in the game’ — my success depends at least partly on the firm’s success. And that investing would be over and above the ten percent of my salary that is automatically invested in the fund.”

“Can you take it out?”

“Only if you leave the firm, and it’s paid out on the last day of the following year, or if you die, then it’s paid out to your estate within ninety days.”

“I don’t know much about things like that, but I think you’d be better off not putting any extra into that fund.”

“The way Mr. Matheson explained it is that it serves as a retirement fund. Most guys burn out in their forties and retire, and then they have millions in retirement funds to work with. There’s some scheme to avoid taxes, but I don’t know all the details.”

“Do you plan to stay there until you decide to retire?”

“Right now, I plan to work hard to be promoted. I have to get there before I decide to stay there, if you know what I mean.”

“I do. This ought to be an interesting ride!”

“I’m glad you’re along.”

“Me, too!”

June 1, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

The party had been exactly as I’d expected — lots of food and lots of socializing. Clara had made two attempts to get me to sneak away, but having Huifen with me gave me a perfect defense without having to be mean about it. I was positive she was going to invite me to her birthday party, but I expected that Huifen and I would be a couple before January, so there was no real chance Clara would get what she wanted.

If I wasn’t with Huifen, it would most likely be because Bev and I were together, something I felt was a real possibility, though I still had serious reservations about taking on responsibility for a kid. There were all sorts of practical problems, including how Bev could go to college, how we’d handle living arrangements, and a host of other things, all of which she and I would have to work out before any commitment was made. To me, the practical problems seemed nearly insurmountable.

The only thing of note that had happened was that Phoebe and I had a chance to talk, briefly, and she made it obvious that she wanted to see me again. I promised to call her after Bev had her baby, but I was still of the mind that we hadn’t really clicked the way we’d need to for us to date seriously, let alone be a couple.

“I’m sorry about needing to study last night,” Huifen said.

“No need to apologize! Or for studying on Saturday!”

“For Friday night, I think it’s best if you come up to Loyola and spend the night. Otherwise, it’ll be a royal pain on Saturday morning.”

“What about your roommate?”

“She’s leaving to drive home to Memphis on Friday around noon, after she finishes her last exam.”

“Then it sounds like a plan. I never asked — how are you getting to O’Hare?”

“A taxi. I have too much stuff to lug on the L.”

“I need your address and phone number, please.”

“I’ll write it down for you once we’ve finished breakfast.”

“You know, this is going to make me look like a cad, but when is your birthday?”

“You didn’t miss it! February 12th, which was a week before the party. Yours is in November, right?”

“Yes. The 3rd.”

“Are you seeing Bianca and Shelly on Wednesday?”

“No. They’re going to study. It seems school takes priority over sex!”

Huifen smiled, “And for you, work does. Not that you’d let it eliminate sex from your life, but your work takes priority the way school does for us. And that’s the difference between us and the ‘party girls’. We all have fun, but, in the end, coursework and studying have to come first. For the ‘party girls’, they’re satisfied with C’s and are more interested in the next party than improving their grades.”

“I had a conversation similar to this with Anala a couple of weeks ago.”

“I’d like to meet her.”

“When you come back in the fall, I’ll set that up.”

We finished breakfast, Huifen wrote out her home address and phone number, then gathered her things. We left the apartment for the L, and, as we usually did, parted when I got off at work and she continued north. As I walked towards the Hancock Building, I thought about the Summer, and it hit me I was really going to miss Huifen over the Summer. We got along great, the sex was awesome, and we made a good team. Importantly, she wasn’t concerned about saying ‘I love you’ and had the same practical approach I did to our relationship.

I was referring to her as my girlfriend because there wasn’t really any other description that worked, but before that became official, I had to resolve the situation with Bev. I was still thoroughly confused, and I didn’t think I could resolve anything until Bev and I had a long, face-to-face conversation, most likely after her baby was born, which would be sometime in the next two weeks.

But before then, I had an important task to complete — finding someone who we could hire in the mailroom who wasn’t Norman Monroe, Junior. Dustin had called on Sunday to say that Archie’s little brother, who was graduating High School on Friday, was not interested in starting college right away and was looking for a job. We’d arranged to meet after work, just before my meeting with Anala.

“Hey, Boss,” I said, walking into Mr. Nelson’s office. “I might have a guy.”

“Cutting it close, Kane, but who?”

“Jack Clinton, my friend Archie’s little brother. He’s graduating from High School on Friday. He’s worked part time at KFC during High School.”

“Get him in here for an interview ASAP. I’m guessing he has exams this week, so it’ll have to be late afternoon.”

“I’m meeting him after work today to explain the job and get a good feel for him, and if that goes well, I’ll try to get him in here tomorrow.”

“Make it happen tomorrow. I have to tell Monroe if I’m not going to hire his kid. I really needed to do that today, but I can wait a day.”

“Thanks, Boss. I’ll make it happen.”

“I sure hope this kid is good.”

“Is there any way, in the future, to not have to deal with ‘idiot sons’?”

“Not really. YOU came in through the same system, even though you aren’t Spurgeon’s kid.”

“I can’t even imagine having a sister like Samantha!” I chuckled.

“And if you did, you’d be going to Wharton like her old man. Don’t take this the wrong way, but nobody upstairs would send down the name of a kid who had your intelligence and work ethic. They’d send you to the best schools and make you a trader right out of college, if you didn’t go to law school or become a doctor. It’s only your home situation that basically pushed you here.”

“What’s the worst that has happened?”

“About four years ago, right before Nick started, we had to hire someone as dumb as Monroe’s kid, and he was a lazy SOB, too. It took three months before I could fire him, and there was hell to pay, both because we didn’t get our work done and because I had to fire a Suit’s kid. Monroe, Junior, would likely be a repeat, and I’m sure Matheson would take serious objection to me hiring Monroe’s kid.”

“You know,” I said with a grin, “it would be easier if they stuck to screwing their secretaries and left the mailroom to you.”

“No shit! Fortunately, that doesn’t happen for the maintenance, computer, and security teams. They all have specific experience requirements. The only roles that don’t are mailroom staff, runners, and secretaries, though I think you know the unwritten qualification for secretaries.”

“Large chest and willingness to put out,” I said.

“That about sums it up. My advice? Stay far away.”

I nodded, “I came to that conclusion after things went down the tubes with Rachel Kealty.”

“She was too nice to work here,” Mr. Nelson said. “Hopefully she’s found something better.”

“I haven’t heard from her,” I said. “And I don’t expect to.”

“Get to work and bring me that guy tomorrow!”

“Yes, Boss!”

June 2, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

“Jack Clinton will be here at 3:30pm,” I said. “He gets out of school at 2:30pm, and he’ll take the L in from Oak Park.”

“How sure are you about this guy?”

“Very. My friend Archie, who’s a PhD candidate at UofC, vouched for him. This is his youngest brother, with a sister in between. Jack wasn’t interested in going to college right away. His parents aren’t thrilled, because they’re both college professors, but Archie says Jack works hard and is smart. I spoke with him for an hour last night and I’m convinced he has the right attitude.”

“If he passes muster, I’ll make him the offer today. Will he accept?”

“I believe so. It pays far better than the KFC job he currently has, and better than almost any other job he could get right out of High School unless he went into a trade.”

“Does he plan to go to college?”

“Yes, after he works for a year or two. He can go to UofC on some kind of scholarship because his parents both teach there.”

“Basically a free ride at one of the best schools in the country. Well, at least it gives us a year to fourteen months if he decides to go next year.”

“He’s supposed to have the receptionist call you when he arrives.”

“OK. I’ll let her know and give her his name. I’ll let Mandy Peterson know as well.”

“Thanks, Boss! I’ll get to work!”

He laughed and nodded and I left his office and went to the mailroom. Jack arrived on time and met with Mr. Nelson, who then sent him to Personnel to fill out an application and called me to his office.

“I’m good with him,” Mr. Nelson said. “He’ll start on the 14th. Now I get to break the news to Monroe and wait for all hell to break loose.”

“What do you think of me going to Mr. Matheson?” I asked.

“I think it would be your funeral. Let me take the heat.”

I wondered about that and was tempted to insist, but if I miscalculated, I could ruin my career, so I had to let it go. Even though it would have been the right thing to do, it was far too risky.

“OK,” I agreed.

I went back to work and just before the end of the day, Mr. Nelson called me to his office.

“All set. Monroe had a cow, but Matheson chose not to get involved. I’m not sure if that’s because you’re his boy, or because he agrees Monroe’s kid is a first-class moron. Probably both, in the end. Good job finding him.”

“Thanks, Boss!”

“How’s your friend in Ohio?”

“I believe she’d be ecstatic if she went into labor this very second, but nothing yet. She said her doctor told her the baby is in the right position, whatever that means, so it’s likely a matter of days, ten at the most.”

“You know my opinion of doctors! It’s all magic and witchcraft, and they have a goal to make sure nobody has any fun!”

That wasn’t my view, but I wasn’t going to argue with Mr. Nelson, given he had lost all of his pleasurable activities — cigars, bourbon, and good food. I suspected he had sex, but that was about it, of the things he’d enjoyed before his health problems had begun.