Slow Burn

I'm not sure why I wasn't able to post the edited version of "Over Too Soon", instead I have renamed it, and will try again. There are a few things that are different, but the story is still the same, so unless you really care about the details, don't waste your time.

If you've read any of my work, you know that it is generally based on something I have experienced or places I have been, In this case, the story took seed after a conversation with my, then, 5 or 6-year-old son, who asked if I would always keep the pictures he made for me. I told him I would (and have), he asked if I'd sell them. Even though he didn't get it at the time, I told him that when he became famous I would have an auction and sell them for $85 million.

That conversation turned into a story I told several times over a few years I was a camp counselor at a camp for troubled teens. The story hopefully showed them to value family above anything else. I would guess that maybe 500 kids heard me tell it in the few years I volunteered.

Maybe 30 years ago I heard a young man tell a similar story except a Family Bible was the object in the auction. I spoke to him later and asked if it was an original story, he said he had heard something like it at camp when he was in his teens... funny thing, it was not the same camp I knew and worked at.

A couple of months ago, my son reminded me of the story, how much he liked it, and suggested I write it down, I did and posted it on this site.

I didn't know who Mr. Sparks was until I looked him up. As for his story, I am sure it was an original thought for him, as mine was for me... around 45 years ago.

*

The estate is massive, so it was the logical place to do this. The cars were lined up all along East Broadway, from the Bridgeport Ferry dock in "downtown" Port Jefferson, all the way up to Cliff Rd. Then along Cliff Rd to the driveway leading up to the main gate. The armed guards checking invitations and ID's. No one else was getting in.

Once inside the gate, the driver was directed to a spot where chauffeured cars could wait or those who drove could park. It had to be well thought out as over a hundred cars were expected. From there, the invited guests walked to the front door, where, much to their disappointment, the attendee's invitations and ID's were checked again.

Things like "Do you know who I am?" or "I was his closest friend"... were heard more times than you can imagine, as self-important people were once again screened before entering. The guards were polite and simply smiled and said, "We didn't make the rules, sir or madam."

"The occasion? The reading of the will, who's will... well... mine. You see, I'm Wes, Wes Roberts and I died just about a month ago. Don't feel bad; I lived a great life, although it did end a little sooner than I had hoped. It was full of adventure, travel and I was able to make a difference in the lives of friends and strangers. I raised three great kids and accumulated some wealth along the way... Maybe I should back up a little and tell you how we got here before we watch today's events unfold."

I was a kid from Brooklyn; if you search for 'kids, Brooklyn, the 1950s', you'll see pictures of what some of my childhood was like. We lived in the Scandinavian part of Brooklyn in Bayridge, right next to one of the largest Jewish communities outside of Israel. I went to PS 169 before we moved to Queens in 1958.

I took the subway to high school when we lived in Corona because we were just inside the boundary for Flushing High School. I enjoyed high school but had no interest in college and joined the Navy, before graduating, on a deferred entrance enlistment. I went to technical schools and learned to scuba dive while stationed in Key West... Then I did the one thing my father told me never to do; I volunteered for something. It turned out to be a joint task force and was top secret. I got hurt and was sent home with an honorable discharge and no record of how I got hurt.

I had always been comfortable talking to strangers, and their position in life never intimidated me, so I became a salesman. I sold calculators, computers, electronic components, and then services like assembly and manufacturing.

Along the way, I met Elizabeth. "Please call me Liz.". Her mother, Betty, was wonderful, and I loved her dearly, she was fully supportive and generous in every way, but she had one issue she couldn't get past... her past.

Her husband had cheated on her and left her with nothing, so she wanted to protect her daughter, not "in case," but for "when" I cheated on her. So she wouldn't give her blessing unless we had a prenuptial agreement.

I stopped by their house after work, like I always did, and Betty was sitting there with someone who had the look of a lawyer. She asked me to sit and review a document she "took the liberty" of having drawn up. It was completely one-sided; it said that "When (still not if) I cheated, I walked away with only my personal possessions, all savings, all assets would be left behind, as would any real estate or children. I would pay alimony and child support until the children graduated high school. I laughed at it and told my future mother-in-law that while I loved her and her daughter dearly, that I negotiate contracts every day. They always need to be fair to both parties... I would only sign an agreement if everything was the same for both of us and we added a confession of judgment.

She was shocked!

"My daughter would never think of being unfaithful."

"Excellent, then there's no reason we can't make the changes. Think about it and let me know what you decide."

As far as I was concerned, this ambush meeting was over; I left the house before Liz even got there.

While I waited for the next meeting, I read up on prenuptial agreements and New York State law. These documents had the full weight and support of the law behind them; there were never any negotiations; whatever was written, and agreed to, is what happened.

Maybe a week later, I was ambushed again, but this time it was very different. Liz had already signed the agreement and a confession of judgment, the rest was even-handed. Cheating was inexcusable, and the cheater would leave with basically nothing while still having the responsibilities allowed by the court, and law, regarding alimony and child support. I signed it, got a copy and, put it with my other contracts.

In case you're wondering, a Confession of Judgment is basically a guilty plea or agreement in advance of the judge's decision. In this case, upon submitting the prenuptial, the proof of infidelity, and confession of judgment, a judge could grant a divorce without either party there.

We were married in the spring and had a son the following winter. I traveled a lot, but he (and a bit later, his sister and brother), was my life. My reason for living and my reason for putting up with a wife who had changed into something, or someone, I didn't recognize.

You see, we started out poor. My take-home pay from my first job was $74 a week. We lived in a small apartment behind a garage, and I commuted into Manhattan every day. I remember coming home one day, and my wife was sitting on the floor crying. When I asked, she told me she had saved for three weeks to buy a jar of apple sauce so we could have dessert after dinner on Sunday, but that when she was taking the groceries out of the car, the bag slipped, fell, and the jar broke.

As I comforted her, I swore an oath that somehow we would find a way to a better life. That way was hard work and long hours. I became the top salesman in every company I worked for and trained all the new salesman, showing them how I did my job, but I was always passed over for promotion because I didn't have a college degree.

I kept my job, worked hard and, continued to be the top salesman in the firm... but I also started my own company. I used my knowledge and contacts to sell used calculators, office machines and, computers, then went and negotiated the purchase price, typically bought the used equipment for 10-15% less than I sold them for, delivered them, set them up, and kept the difference.

It didn't take long for that to be my primary source of income, so the next time they passed over me for a promotion, I quit. They were devastated; I was responsible for 40% of all the sales and simply walked away.

My income took a brief hit but bounced back quickly as I had a lot more tie to dedicate to my business. Over time, just machines became whole systems, and systems became control rooms and command centers. I had taken an idea to "sell and buy" and had turned it into a small, growing and, fairly profitable company. All my customers were in the city.

I was making enough money that we were able to move out of the tiny apartment into a nicer apartment, but the landlady was crazy and dishonest. She had her basement laundry room, hot water heater and, water usage metered to our apartment's electric and water bill. When I approached her, I said we could leave it that way if we could use the laundry also... Nope, she wouldn't let us use them.

The next day, I said, "Let's go," to my wife.

"Let's go where?"

"To find a house."

Our son was in his car seat, and we drove out the Long Island Expressway. As we went farther East, there were signs near the exits offering houses and condos for sale; we kept going until we saw a sign that said, "No money down," with a price we could afford. I pulled off the highway at exit 61 and drove south on Patchogue-Holbrook Road to Woodgate Village and bought a condominium for $26,000. The monthly payments and maintenance fee were less than our rent.

Life changed quickly. Living in Queens meant getting to the city was relatively easy. I could even take public transportation all the way if needed. Living in Holbrook meant a 2-hour commute if I was lucky, so while many people do it, I realized I needed to move my business to Long Island or find a job.

Leaning on my Naval training and knowledge of electronics, I applied for and got a sales job with a small firm owned by two older men. The salary wasn't much, but I got a company car, a gas credit card and, earned commission on my sales.

It took a couple of more years, but I became fairly successful. Companies like Ademco and Hazeltine are on Long Island, and they needed and used electronic components and assemblies. It was also just about the time toy companies started introducing simple hand-held electronic games, like pong and car racing games. Lesney, who at the time owned Matchbox, introduced a Matchbox road racing set that was very popular, and we supplied all the plug-in 12-volt power transformers. Things were great, and then they weren't.

One night after a long day, I was slouched in my office chair, looking out into the night. I hadn't bothered with the light as my eyes were tired.

The office front door opened, and I heard the owners speaking...

"Oh good, he's not here."

"So, what's the plan?"

"So far, we've billed and collected over two million dollars above our agreed mark up; our supplier doesn't know about...."

"But what if they find out?"

"They're in Taiwan, it will take them weeks, and by then, we'll have closed the company and filed for bankruptcy."

"What about Wes?"

"Oh, we'll pay him some of his commission; he's earned it. He's a great salesman and will land on his feet. Hell, he could work for any of our suppliers and make a damn good living."

"Okay, he deserves something, just not too much...."

They both laughed.

"So when do we do it?"

"We've stretched Taiwan out to just about the limit; I've told them that our clients are growing so fast that they are strapped for cash. We have another $600,000 or so that should be paid by the end of the month; I say we wait until then and close the doors."

"Where does that put us?""At over 3 million, so a little over a million five, each!!"

They were chatting and laughing as they left the office, imagining themselves walking away with enough money to retire on while stiffing our suppliers, and me.

I was in a daze; I had no idea what I was going to do. I drove home, my wife was asleep, so I checked on my son and sat down with a small glass of tequila. I knew what I had to do. The single largest supplier was in Taiwan, and they were about to lose a couple of million dollars.

Taiwan is 12 hours ahead of New York; I picked up the phone.The call didn't go exactly how I imagined it would go...

Mr. Chang was mad at me..."I have known those men for 10 years, we built this business together, we are close personal friends, they would never do anything to harm my company or me."

"I'm sorry to disagree, but I'm responsible for 90% of the sales in the company; they haven't built the business, I have. The only thing they have done is to build a huge accounts payable backlog with your company. They have been paid on time but are telling you our clients are dragging their feet... but you don't have to take my word for it. You've met the team at Hazeltine, and I introduced you, over the phone, to the buyer at Lesney; call them and ask if they have paid any invoices over the last 150 days...Honestly, I don't care if you believe or trust me, I'm doing what's right today, and tomorrow I'm going to quit, which means I am walking away from over $100,000 in commissions. Do what you want."

I hung up, had another drink and, went to bed.

I told my wife what was going on, and she was livid,

"Couldn't you wait until they paid you?"

"If I did that, it would have been too late, they would be in the wind, and our supplier would be out millions."

"Can't you think about what I... we, need once in your life."

"Doing the right thing is always the right choice. If I can't be honest in my work, why bother."

"You're so self-righteous; sometimes, it has to be about the money."

I thought, "who are you?"

I walked out and drove to work before I got angry.

I walked into the office and asked the guys if I could speak with them.

"Sure, Wes, what's on your mind?"

"I wanted you to know that I am resigning, effective immediately."

"WHAT!"

"WHY?"

"Guys, I was here last night; I know what you're planning and can't have any part in that, even if it's just by association."

"You walk away without notice, and you lose any commission owed to you."

"I assumed you'd say that; honestly, I would rather be able to look at myself in the mirror, knowing I did the right thing. Here are the keys to the car, it's in my space in the lot... Goodbye."

Things were pretty cool at home; money was tight and, not having a car in central Long Island means you're not going anywhere. My bike had a baby seat in the back, so I would ride to the grocery store and carefully shop, ensuring I would only have one bag. The bag was in the baby seat on the way home.

Dinners were tough cuts of meat, slow-cooked for a few hours to make them tender and, one shared potato. The pasta was a treat, especially if there was pasta sauce.

My wife was not happy.

Maybe a month after I had quit, we were sitting down to spaghetti and meat sauce, yes we had splurged... when someone knocked on the door.I opened the door and greeted a well-dressed Chinese gentleman...

"Hello, can I help you?" I looked over his shoulder and asked.

"Has your car broken down?"

"No, no, I am here to see you; you are Mr. Roberts, correct?"

"Yes, I am."

"I am Daniel Chang, from Taipei."

I shook his hand and said,

"It's nice to meet you; please come in; we were just about to have dinner, do you like pasta with tomato sauce?"

During dinner, we chatted about nothing in particular. He told us how he had found me and how he liked the way American drivers drove compared to those in Taiwan. We laughed and used the time to get to know each other. He showed us pictures of his family and talked about life in Taipei. We talked about our lives, our son, and how we met.

My wife went to bed after dinner, and Daniel helped me clean up the kitchen. Then we sat down a talked business, but not until he apologized for not trusting me and his tone when I called. He also handed me an envelope and asked me to open it later.

A few hours later, we had formed a partnership, a new company, run by me to sell components, wire harnesses and, electronic assembly services to all my regular customers and any others I could find. The monthly salary was substantial, and I would still receive performance bonuses based on sales and profitability.

It's funny how things can change, literally overnight. After Daniel left, I opened the letter. There was a short note...

"Thank you; you saved our company. The loss of that much money would have bankrupt us and me personally. Please accept this check to help cover some of the commission you would have made."

There was a cashier's check for $50,000.

Overdue bills were paid, credit cards were paid off, and we had money in the bank. My customers were delighted to work with me again and saw immediate price reductions while we still made a healthy profit. Sounds great, right?

Haha, life is never that easy.

As my income increased and things became easier, my wife changed, she joined a health club somewhere and seemed to find new friends. I found out later that she drove 40 minutes each way to a club in Port Jefferson. Her new friends seemed to all be wives of doctors, lawyers, and Wall Street executives.

I'm not sure if it's all women, but my wife, who used to love my child-like sense of humor, trusted my financial judgment and liked that I enjoyed dressing casually... pretty much all the time. Now she wanted me to change my "image" to suit "our" success and new position (what new position?). She now thought her friends wouldn't understand my silly jokes and to be more serious when I was around them. She loved and married me for who I was and now wanted me to change to fit in with people I didn't know. The real kicker was that now, we absolutely needed to move to the north shore (of Long Island). We needed a house in a neighborhood that suited our station.

"Station?" I laughed out loud.

"What station are you talking about? I'm a salesman, a broker and, a deal maker. I do import/export, and we live based on the success or failure of the next deal. Seeking status and putting on airs isn't who we are. This condo has served us well, and we have another bedroom if we want another child. The cost of these units is a little depressed, but they're coming back, and I'm sure it will end up being a good investment. Isn't it nice not to have to worry about money for a while?"

"I can't believe how selfish you are."

"What?"

"I want to feel like I'm on an equal footing to my friends, and they all have houses on the North Shore. We should be living in Stony Brook or Port Jefferson, better yet, Belle Terre. The girls say there are some really nice homes for sale there."

I couldn't believe it. We were literally just getting back on our feet, and she wanted more. It's funny how people reveal themselves in feast or famine. The girl I married, the girl who would have been happy to have applesauce as a treat, now thought she "needed" a house on the north shore.

I told her I would think about it. Naturally, she wasn't happy.

Woodgate Village was going through a difficult time. People were moving out; they saw their investment of anywhere between $26,000 to $38,000 dropping like a stone. There were dozens of foreclosures, and some folks were so angry when the bank wouldn't help them, they trashed the unit before leaving. It got so bad that the bank and builder worked together to come up with a deal. New buyers would get a three-bedroom unit for $23,000; the company threw in a car and a guarantee to pay their mortgage for up to 2 years if the buyer lost their job.