The Renewal Read online

 The Renewal

  By Joseph Ferguson

  Copyright © 2012 Joseph D Ferguson

  Chapter 1

  Elated, Treyson McAlister leaned back in his chair and flipped his feet upon his desk. “C-r-e-a-k”, the chair noise echoed in his small office space. He had forgotten. It had been awhile since he had a reason to prop up his feet and relax. Big sales had been few and far in-between. His memory reflected a once much congratulated and awarded time when he was the best salesman this company had. He knew he needed a new chair or this one fixed soon before he decides to toss this one over the cubicle wall. He wouldn’t allow it to get to him, not today, he had just completed a sale that was his biggest of the year and in a few hours he would be on vacation of a lifetime.

  With the heel of his shoe he accidently knocked over the black framed picture of his wife onto the itinerary prepared by the travel agent. Eyeing the colorful folded brochure at his feet, he stretched and grasped, slipping it quickly from under the picture and pulling it to him. He eyed intently his travel plans, while thinking of the vacation his wife has planned for him. “Scotland,” the word slipped audibly from his lips causing his heart-rate to speed a little, it was his dream since he was a boy.

  His youthful ears had listened to those stories voiced by his Grandfather, each one seemingly crafted to make him yearn for the place. Closing his eyes he allowed his mind drift to see his Grandfather animating his tales making them come alive with his deep voice and tall lanky body. He, like most McAlister sons was born with the same long, thin build and blond hair but he was not gifted with his Grandfathers deep bass voice.

  He and his little sister would always be excited when Grandfather would visit knowing he would always bring with him a new and unbelievable tale. He would always have their full attention as he weaved the tales of a village where he had once lived as a young lad before his family immigrated to America. He once told the story of an old abandoned castle (he made it sound creepy) where he had found an old sword with ancient imagery in what he thought to be a dungeon and since they were forbidden to play there he told them that he was forced to hide it in a small cave near his village. When Treyson got older he asked him why he had never gone back for it, his Granddad said he wanted too but never had the opportunity plus by now he said it would probably be nothing but a pile of rust. Treyson would like to have seen that old castle, but he remembered his Grandpa also telling them it was supposed to have been demolished and replaced by a zoo and wildlife park. His Grandfather's village was still first on his list of places to visit. He would like to look for that sword too.

  “B-e-e-p”, the noise of his phone startled him back to reality and his feet off the desk. It was his boss with a message to come to her office. Instant dread came over him with a dull ache in his gut, “Aagh” he said again, this time out loud. Another reason to hate his job, she was overbearing. He was keeping a list which not enough compensation for the amount of hours he puts in topped the tally. Following closely was the work he does daily; making hundreds cold sales calls and then spending a few hours entering the information into the database making his hands and arms ache. Punching a keyboard all day was not his intentions when he enrolled in community college for a major in Theater. He figured by now he would be in Hollywood, living in Beverly Hills, but his acting career has never caught a break. Oh, he's done a few commercials and a couple movies as an extra though producing very little income or fame. His agent, like all agents says it's only a matter of time before he's discovered.

  The only good thing from this job is his wife Sara. No, she doesn't work at his firm; she’s a therapist at the city hospital. She had treated him when he was experiencing carpal tunnel symptoms two years ago. She’s the only thing that keeps me sane in this crazy life he thought. A picture of her is the only personal thing he keeps in his undecorated workstation besides the brochure of sights to see while in Scotland. He's had high hopes of going there for the last couple of years, but they had begun to wane. Once he had the money saved to go, but the refrigerator quit working the same week the transmission went out of his car, taking all his savings and dashing all hopes. That's until Sara gave him the gift of tickets for his thirtieth birthday six months ago along with news of being a father. Though he would have to go alone now because of complications with her pregnancy, still he was determined to have a good time. He promised to send her cell phone pictures and call her every morning.

  “B-e-e-p”, again his phone startled him this time though there was a message for him to come to her office “now” bringing him to his feet. He would have to go she wouldn't tolerate one more beep. The walk to her office brought looks from other coworkers, some with smiles and one from his friend Pete raking his index finger across his throat. He didn't care, he was going to Scotland for two weeks, and in five hours and twenty minutes he would be on the plane. She was standing when he entered her office, not any taller than him, but she looked it as he sleeked into the room. Her rusty red hair pulled back into a tight bun matched her off red business suit with tie and black heels, which covered a well fit body. She glared as he entered her office, then spoke sternly, "Treyson you know how upset I get if I have to beep my employees more than once."

  "Sorry ma'am I was busy," he replied while trying not to look her in the eyes.

  "Treyson, with today's technology, I know what my employees are doing at all times in their cubicles. This company cannot make a profit from your daydreams." she said with hands resting on her hips staring him down. "Last year you were our top in sales with no one even close, but this year you are trailing the pack."

  "Ma'am I know I'm not doing as well as last year but I have still had a lot of sales. Even if I don't reach last year’s totals I've made this company tons of cash," he said coming up out of his slouch.

  "Really Treyson," speaking louder while trying to project herself taller, "you are not making this company cash until you surpass last year’s gross revenue. The only way this company survives is by beating our previous year’s sales and we don't lose contracts. If that happens that's when we start getting rid of the dross."

  He could feel his blood starting to boil. She had called him dross which struck a nerve. He spoke hastily without thinking, "Ms. Thompson, it's your type of mentality that is ruining this world. Why does it all have to be about profit anyway? I mean there was a time when companies cared about the employees. Now if they don't meet the standard they are threatened with expulsion and when that happens, it's hard to get new employment. Ever since the World Congress signed the Global Industrial Agreement, every company has access to a global workers database that can track every person’s work history, blackballing some from gaining good employment. I know some good people that now rely on handouts to feed their families." Their eyes locking for a moment before Ms. Thompson looked away.

  "Everyone we let go here gets what they deserve. Our board of directors sets a yearly quota that must be reached to stay competitive and if we don't, we have to let people go, plain and simple," she said with a sneer as she sat down, her eyes focused on her desk "Go back to your cubicle while you still have your job."

  He turned to leave knowing he had said too much, words that could get him fired. As he reached for the doorknob her voice rang loudly, "Treyson."

  He froze.

  "I called you in here to tell you to have a good vacation. Though I think the policy giving the top salesperson a two week paid vacation should be stopped. You will be further behind once you return."

  He didn't look back as he walked through her door and the scowl on his face was enough to keep his coworkers quiet. Treyson's chair squeaked as he plopped into it, angry with himself for allowing Ms. Thompson to get to him. He was confident he could catch up his sales after he re
turned from his vacation, as long as he didn't give away any of his sales to help others. He was reaching for his headset when he heard a tap on the wall behind him. Pete spoke while riding his desk chair into Treyson’s workspace, "hey buddy from the look on your face I can tell it didn't go well in there. You ok?"

  "Yea, I guess, that woman just makes my temperature rise with her arrogance."

  "Trey my friend no needs to worry about her, you’re going to Scotland and the whole lots of us are jealous. Maybe..," he hesitates "Ms. Thompson wants to go with you, which is why she's so upset." He smiles while slapping Treyson on the back.

  "Very funny Pete, anyway I wouldn't want to steal your girlfriend. By the way no more free-bees when I return, I will have a lot of catching up to do. Now I need to get to work I've got three good hours to make some sales." Treyson propped his foot on Pete's chair and pushed him out of his cubicle, "I suggest you do the same."