#36 : Ramario -The Note

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Mr. Novel.

I’m Jennifer. You remember me? I’m George Worthington’s daughter. Daddy worked for your company his whole life.

Ramiro stopped reading for a while. His had something in his eye. They were misting over and he couldn’t see. Probably dust or his allergies actin up. He took a deep breath and remembered. He’d had to force George Worthington into early retirement recently. It hadn’t been because he wanted too or because George had done anything wrong. The government had audited his business and determined that it didn’t meet the standards. It wasn’t ethnically diverse enough. He had too few of one ethnic group or two many of another. He’d either have to hire more of one group or fire some of another.

He absolutely could NOT afford to hire anyone else at that time. A new hire COST three or four times what his pay was due to regulation compliance. A new hire also COST his company for a good long time before he began to pull his weight and actually make money for the company. Some new employee’s never did. Then he had hell firing them due to rules compliance.

It had been easy to chose George . All the numbers and indicating parameters pointed his way. Not him personally but his profile was reviled by every government agency. His ethnic group was on everyone’s shit list, he was male and he was old. Letting him go had been the only legal choice, but morally wrong. Ramiro had to choose the lesser of two evils. Either fire George or the company would go broke.

Perhaps it wouldn’t go broke at once. The new employee’s wouldn’t kill it all at once. They’d just shave the profit margin thinner, then another law, rule or tax would shave it thinner still.

He chose the lesser of two evils. It was still an evil thing to do. He knew that and had been driven to drink because of it. He was feeling a STRONG urge to get a bottle right now.

He continued to read.

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I’m not blaming you Mr. Novel. Daddy explained everything to me before he died.

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Ramiro stopped reading again. George had Died? How could he be dead? Ramiro had spoken to him just the other week. As far as Ramiro knew George was in good health for his age.

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After mom died a few years ago working for your company was the only thing that kept Dad going. When he had to retire he saw no point in living any longer. He saw no reason to get out of bed in the morning.

So he didn’t. He lay down one night and died in his sleep. One doctor said stoke, another said heart attack. I think he just lost the will to live.

Like I said, I am NOT blaming you. If it hadn’t been for his job at your company he’d have passed on much sooner. I want to thank you for he extra years we got to be with him.

Jennifer.

PS...my sister Sally said to give you this. She said it would solve all your problems. She gave me one too. I haven’t looked at it yet. I had to get this in the mail.

Ramiro was very sad. It was definitely time for that drink. He poured himself and extra stiff one then added some more. Then he opened the package.

It was a small rod or wand. Taped across the front was a scrap of paper with the note:

Say: “MagicWand.... Activate”

That was all.

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