By Meta
Strauss
Leonard Galbreath, CEO of GBC
Enterprises, straightens his hand-tailored suit as he steps out of the stretch
limo. “See you later, Henry,” he waves.
Forty-five
minutes later, Henry arrives early to pick up Mrs. Galbreath at the couple’s
mansion for her bi-weekly spa appointment. The limo windows whoosh open,
providing a breath of fresh sea air before the Mrs. and her perfume gags him.
He spends the free time sorting his cash. There’s grocery money for his wife,
funds for rent, a small amount for their church and ten bucks for the
lottery.
***
Leonard
Galbreath’s brow furrows with concern as he thinks about his day. The market is
volatile. He can win or loose millions in just one morning. “Damn.” He stumbles
on the disheveled man standing outside his building. “What a deadbeat,” he says
to himself.
“Here,”
Leonard ruffles through his wallet, sorting through a stack of credit cards and
fresh bills. He grabs a twenty and shoves it into the man’s hand as he rushes
to his office. His staff freezes as if stopped in time as the demanding
executive passes their desks, heals clicking on the teak floors. The din of
activity begins again once he shuts the door to his palatial corner office.
Leonard’s
mind is racing. The housing market is a mess, Obama and his Democrats won’t
allow stateside drilling, the weapons industry is going to tank as the military
downsizes, technology is in a race with China and Missy St. Arnold is
pressuring him to leave Lillian. He speaks to himself, “she’s a great piece of
ass, but I never intended her to have more than the apartment, an ample
allowance, and a BMW of her own.”
Leonard
gazes through the expansive windows at the city sprawling below. He swivels his
custom chair and buzzes Marjorie, his assistant for more than twenty years. She
appears in seconds with her notepad, carrying a cup of Decaf Sumatra with a
splash of soy.
They
go over the guest list for the art museum charity event; he bought a table for
$20,000 in the company’s name. He and Lillian will hobnob with other executives
and their wives while enjoying an evening of dining and dancing.
“Marjorie,
one of the guests can’t attend so I thought you could join us,” offered the
executive.
“Mr.
G., thanks for the invitation but I don’t have anything to wear to such an
event.”
“That’s
no problem,” he says tossing a credit card to her. “Go buy yourself something.”
He smiles, feeling good about his generosity.
***
Lillian
Galbreath, fresh from the spa, maneuvers her 500 SEL through noisy, smelly
traffic. She honks her horn. “Damn it,” she cusses the Mustang blocking the
parking garage. Two years ago, an architect converted a bedroom into a closet,
but nothing in it is right for the museum gala. Lillian speeds down a ramp to
the valet and scurries into Nordstrom. Her personal shopper has a pile of
trendy outfits waiting to be judged.
On
his way to meet Henry and the limo, Leonard Galbreath again passes the man
standing outside his office. “That guy is still here. Such a suck on society,
ready to take a handout instead of working like the rest of us.” Feeling noble,
he hands him a ten.
The
man, Robert, takes the bill and tucks it in his pocket. He worked for the
county until the massive layoffs. The same month, his wife was laid off her
teaching job. He started his office building vigil accidentally when he
answered an ad for a job. GBC Enterprises kicked him out before he could leave
a resume. While standing outside, hoping to get Mr. Galbreath’s attention, the
executive handed him a twenty. It was so easy that he returns day after day,
gathering cash.
***
That
evening. Robert takes the bus, stopping at Safeway on the way home. He sits on
a park bench, unfolds a bakery box, and gobbles an entire three-layer chocolate
cake.
Henry
passes Robert in the store. He buys thirty lottery tickets. Rent can be late
this month. If he wins, he could stop driving for a living, could buy a house
near the beach and a new car.
***
Marjorie tries on the outfit she bought with
Mr. G's credit card to see how it will look at the Art Museum party. Her mirror
reflects a closet packed with designer clothes and accessories. She smiles as
she adds the newest to her collection.
***
Missy
St. Arnold sits alone on her balcony sipping wine. She empties the bottle,
strokes her cat and dreams of the time Leonard will divorce Lillian and marry
her. Then she’ll live in a mansion full of beautiful things, driven everywhere
by Henry, with all the social status she desires.
***
Leonard
Galbreath opens the DVD closet housing his collection of 4000 movies. He picks
his favorite and reclines alone in his media room. He can’t wait for the scene
when Michael Douglas says, “Greed is good.”
Meta Strauss, a native Houstonian, moved to
Sonoma in 2005. She converted to Northern Californiaism and began writing. She
reads her fun, nostalgic pieces at Reader’s Books Random Acts and is completing
a novel.
