The Demon (19 page)

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With the passing of time and the beginning of fall, Harry started back to school a couple of nights a week. One of his classes did not start until eight oclock, so on that night he

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had dinner with Linda and they lingered over their coffee, chatting, until it was time for Harry to leave.

 
Harry did well in school, better than he ever had before. It rather surprised him because he wasnt aware of trying harder than usual, or putting forth any extraordinary effort, yet his marks indicated that that must be what he was doing. He somehow felt more relaxed, unpressured and was intensely interested in what he was studying. It was obviously something that was going to help him up that ladder of success rapidly.

 
And his ability to concentrate seemed to have increased tenfold. There somehow didnt seem to be a barrier between himself and the work. He listened to the instructor and read the books and they made sense, and the material seemed to penetrate his head with a minimum of trouble, and stay in his mind. He spent many hours studying, but he wasnt aware of the time because he felt free of conflict and its resulting tension; and because he enjoyed studying, the time passed with speed and ease.

 
To see their son staying home frequently and studying, and so relaxed and content, truly pleased Harrys parents, but their big thrill came when he took them out for their anniversary. At first they were speechless and almost declined the invitation. Harry had never bothered sending a card in the past, or indicating that he even remembered the date of their anniversary. When one of them would mention that today was their anniversary, he would smile and say thats great, congratulations, and kiss them and then act as if he had dismissed it completely from his mind, which is actually what he did.

 
But this year he not only remembered it, but he was taking them out, alone. And he had even gotten tickets to a Broadway musical, which meant he had had to plan it in advance. Ohhhh, it was wonderful. Just so wonderful. Even the weather was delightful.

 
Their Harry took them to a lovely French restaurant and they had one of the most delicious meals of their lives, and they had a little wine with their meal, and Mrs. White felt so special and Harrys father laughed and chuckled and squeezed

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his wifes hand and kissed her on the cheek from time to time, and Harry glowed inside watching their excitement and happiness. In some inexplicable way he felt very close to his parents this night, closer than he had ever felt in his life. And knowing that he had something to do with the happiness they were experiencing filled him with a joy that he never knew existed. The fact that he was contributing to their happiness overwhelmed him, and bewildered him. He couldnt consciously draw the relationship between his actions and his feelings of well-being. But he didnt strain to understand. He just enjoyed the moment.

 
Unfortunately the evening was over much too soon. But the mother and father of Harry White would relive that evening many times amongst themselves and with their friends, sharing their joy with them and smiling broadly and deeply when telling them about their loving son.

 
It was more than an evening out. It was a confirmation. A confirmation of hopes and dreams—and more importantly, a confirmation of success: their success as parents and his success as a son. They felt justified in the way they had lived their lives; in the methods they had used in raising their only child. And justified in keeping their hopes and dreams for him: that he would be healthy and happy and enjoy a good life.

 
Of course his life was not complete yet, but someday, maybe someday soon, he would have a family and children. For years they had been afraid that they would spoil him because he was an only child and had actually looked into adopting a child, many years ago, but the process looked endless and hopeless, and so they never pursued it. But now their fears were melted with the warmth of the food and the music, and the warmth of the memory of the night. It would be cherished and relived over and over again.

 
Gradually, as time passed, Harry spent more and more of his free time with Linda, to the point of seeing her almost

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exclusively. Of course he still got laid occasionally, but it seemed like he could go weeks, sometimes, without even thinking about it. Between work, school and Linda there just did not seem to be enough time, or room, to think about the broads. He spent his lunch time quietly, usually with Linda, so getting back to the office on time was no problem. All the areas of Harry Whites life were running smoothly and routinely.

 
One day Wentworth asked him to join him for lunch again. When they had settled in their seats and ordered their drinks, he got right to the point. This is not for general distribution, so keep it to yourself, but there are going to be some significant changes made next year. Some rather large changes. We/re growing. Expanding. Especially our foreign operations. And I would like to see you become a major—major—part of the change.

Harry smiled and nodded his head, So would I.

 
Yes, smiling, Im sure you would. And I would because I believe you could not only be an invaluable asset to the firm, but to me personally as well. You see, I will be responsible for effecting those changes. Harry looked and nodded appreciatively. The waiter brought their drinks and they both tasted them before Wentworth continued.

 
Things have been going well these past months for you. At least I assume that from your work and your attitude.

Yes, they have. Very well.

 
Good. Good. Glad to hear that. But of course it has been obvious. They smiled at each other. Weve talked before and I do not want to go over old ground again and again, but I have the idea that maybe youre ready to move up—Harrys gut suddenly went flop and he could feel the excitement suddenly surge through him—or at least almost ready—Harry suddenly felt hollow. He wasnt sure what was going on now. Wentworth continued to look at him, and Harry didnt know how he was supposed to feel or how he did feel, other than

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confused. He took another sip of his drink and waited Wentworth out.

                                 
You have to be responsible to be successful. Without that you have built-in barriers. As an example in point, I am constantly entertaining other successful executives, and these men are like myself: responsible. We are family men with good, solid roots in our communities. We keep things in the proper perspective. We know how to—a smile and a gesture of the hand—relax and have fun, but. . . but! we go home to our families. The right thing, in the right place, at the right time. It is imperative that a corporate executive be a good family man and a responsible member of his community. Wentworth continued to look at Harry for a moment, then picked up the menu and started reading.

 
Harry, of course, was no dummy. He knew exactly what Wentworth was talking about. He had told him the same thing more than once before. In that world, as Wentworth saw it, you had to be a family man to be trusted. And Harry supposed he was right, at least to some degree. By being conscious of your obligation to your family you are less likely to become irresponsible at work, and to Harry that was of the utmost importance.

 
But that wasnt what Wentworth was really talking about today. No. He was talking about doing something about changing his marital status soon if Harry wanted to be an important part of the major changes that would be occurring soon.

 
And, the other thing that Wentworth was obviously reminding Harry of, in his own way, was the fact that he had the power of life and death over him with respect to his future with the firm. Harry had the choice of doing it Went-worths way and going to the top—and there was no doubt in Harrys mind that that is what would happen—or he could just flop around somewhere in the middle and maybe some day be a junior vice-president. The facts of the situation

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settled into place immediately. But whatever was going to happen wasnt going to happen until next year. In the meantime he would keep pushing the way he had. It was working so far.

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7

 

The first Sunday in December

Linda and Harry visited her folks. Rather than worry about snow and ice on the roads they rode the Long Island Rail Road. Linda was familiar with the hazards and unpredictabilities of this mode of travel and so they brought a thermos of hot coffee with them.

 
Harry looked out the window from time to time at the drab-to-ugly surroundings, conscious only of how good he felt.

"When I go to sleep, I never count sheep,"

Their breath was

steaming from their mouths and they drew silly pictures on the window with their fingers, then breathed on the window and watched the pictures appear in the mist that formed from their breath.

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"I

count all the charms about Linda. And lately it seems"

Harry

looked at the funny little drawing and then at Linda. Whats that supposed to be? O, smiling, you should be able to figure that one out.

                                              
"in all of my dreams, I walk with my arms about Linda"

Harry

smiled and shrugged. It beats me. Linda laughed, Nanook of the north. The steam puffed from their mouths as they laughed,

                                             
"and after a while I will get to know Linda"

                             
the sight and sound of her laughter pulsing a warm glow through him.

 
Lindas father met them at the station and though it was only a ten- or fifteen-minute drive to the house, the scenery changed drastically, and Harry felt like he was driving through a Christmas card. His smile seemed to start on the inside and then flow up to his face. The snow was banked high on the sides of the road and sloped off in pristine whiteness, and icicles hung from the snow-covered trees and glistened in the sun. And the sky— Krist the sky was beautiful.

                                      
"But miracles still happen, and when my lucky star begins to shine

A light winter

blue, and crisp, with white fluffy clouds moving just fast enough to let you know it was real.

 
When they got to the house, Harry was introduced to Lindas brother and sister, her mother and an aunt—the mothers older sister. They sat for a while drinking coffee and warming to each other. Then it was game time. Harry, Lindas

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father and brother went into the living room to watch the football game while the women remained in the kitchen to prepare dinner and talk to Linda about her fella.

 
Harry had a ball watching the game with them. They both knew and liked the game, so the running commentary was enjoyable. He had been a little apprehensive, afraid they might be like those crazy old broads in the office who hoot and holler during the World Series and seem to be especially delighted when your team is losing; then they ask you who is up, the Rangers or the Knicks? But this was different, and to top it off the game was really exciting, and so Harry didnt feel as if he was being constantly inspected.

 
And the dinner was positively delicious, and the conversation enjoyable. And when they finally left the dining room table two hours later, they continued talking and sipping coffee in the living room, every one feeling tranquil from the food and the burning and glowing logs in the fireplace.

 
Time slipped warmly and gently by, and it seemed that the warmth of the day, the home and its people, was infinite, and the mirth and laughter that tickled ones bones endless. God, it was beautiful. And no one would know what was said. But the feelings would be remembered, as feelings always are, long after the words and the circumstances have passed beyond recall.

 
And then the laughter was interrupted with the announcement that it was time to go, and the thermos was refilled with steaming coffee and Linda and Harry were bundled into their coats and there were hugs and embraces and pats on the back with more laughter, and kisses and the shaking of hands and, Goodbye, goodbye, dont forget to call as soon as you get home, dear.

I will, mother, dont worry.

And you come to see us again soon, son.

 
O, I will, smiling broadly, and thanks for a great day. It was really wonderful. And thank you for that great meal. You are a great cook.

Thank you, Im so glad you enjoyed it.

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Well, goodbye.

Goodbye.

Thanks. See you again.

Soon.

Safe home.

 
Well, we/d better get moving, and the door was opened to the cold winter night and they rushed to the car and scampered in and the joy and jubilance were still in their voices:

                                          
Oooo, its really cold, brrrrr.

 
Boy, its really something. One minute youre in a nice warm room, and then, bamm, the north pole.

 
They laughed while Lindas father let the car warm up for a few minutes before starting for the station. The heater will be ready in a minute and then it/ll warm up in here.

 
They stayed in the warmth of the car until the train was in sight and then they hugged, kissed and shook hands, and Harry and Linda hustled to the station.

 
The ride back was a little warmer; they got to a car where the heaters worked and settled into their seats. They looked out the window, and as they left the lights of the station they were looking at each others reflection and smiled simultaneously and continued to look through each others reflection at the darkness. The night obscured the drabness of the surrounding area, and here and there patches of snow and ice sparkled as they reflected a nearby light. It looked enchanting.

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