The Misadventures of Hugo and More

This is a story about changing lives and building new ones. I hope you enjoy it.

Tom Jacobs is a tax attorney who works for the state revenue department. He would tell anyone who asked that he works for a collection agency going after deadbeats. Tom will send somebody a letter or even knock on your door if you don't pay your taxes. This wasn't what he pictured doing after law school. But it paid the bills. And he even had a little leftover at the end of the month, all for himself.

When he got home to his small apartment, his usual routine was to check the mail. Then go upstairs to see which leftover looked the most appetizing as he looked at the day's collection of junk mail. Shit! The state agency that had underwritten his loan for law school was in the days' pile of ads for everything he didn't need. WTF did they want, he asked himself. Written in the smoothest legalese, he was informed that he had fulfilled the terms of his loan, working for the state for the last ten years. And now his law school loan was paid in full. Sweet Mother of God. Was the only thing that passed over his lips as he carefully ran his eyes over the letter again. Next, he fired up his laptop and went to the agency's website, where he logged into his account. Then it hit him that the letter was genuine. His loan account showed a zero balance and was noted as being paid in full.

Tom knew this day was coming, but he wasn't sure exactly when. Taking a deep breath as he leaned back and smiled. Now, he would be able to flesh out his dreams.

There was no question in his mind that he wanted to move from the city. His first requirement was that his new hometown has a population of fewer than two million rather than almost nine million. Second ideally, no snow or ice, no winter. Someplace that had a lively local arts scene and was home to a solid university. Now he had his freedom; Tom could stop dreaming and begin living.

Tom wrote and rewrote his CV countless times in the next two weeks. At the same time, he refined his list of locations. With the potential new home identified, the next step was to whom he would send his CV.

A month later, on a gloomy Sunday afternoon, Tom went to the main post office and deposited fifty letters addressed to the managing partner of various law firms. With that done, there was nothing left to do but wait.

Over the next two weeks, a steady stream of proper thank-you letters arrived. With each rejection, Tom's mood only soured a little more. It looked like his dream was a pipe dream. Then he got a text message asking him to call John Smythe-Daniels, the General Counsel with Allison Engineering and Manufacturing, to arrange a phone interview. A couple of quick searches showed that the person was the general counsel for Allison Engineering and Manufacturing. And this person looked to have some serious chops, but the company was a mystery.

Tom made the call and was surprised. The company was very genuine. They were a privately owned company that did engineering and other work for the Department of Defense and others with an alphabet soup for a name. Tom was asked if he could envision a problem with him getting security clearances. That question raised the hair on the back of his neck.

The next step in the dance was to have Tom fly in and meet the folks he would be working with. The initial meeting was held in the airport coffee shop. The interview was with the general counsel, John Smythe-Daniels. John was considerably older than Tom would have guessed. The questions centered on his experience and objectives for the future. After about an hour, John excused himself and walked away. When he came back to where Tom was sitting, he asked Tom if he would be available to sit down with some others with the company to continue this conversation today.

Tom's attitude was that talk was cheap. I'll talk with almost anyone about anything so long as it is legal. With that, they hopped onto John's plane and flew back to where the company was located. When they got there, the General Counsel explained. "We are very low-key. The building and grounds here are secure. The old saying is ... what happens here, stays here. We very rarely have outside visitors. When I have to meet with someone, it is almost always offsite. Just as you and I did earlier today. Anyway, folks are waiting to talk with you."

As they walked up to a sizeable office building, Tom asked himself. Have I just met the Mad Hatter, and where is the White Rabbit? All the while, his eyes looked for the rabbit hole where they would dive into.

They walked up the sidewalk from a large, crowded parking lot into a small lobby area. John took a heavy plastic card from his jacket pocket, which he swiped over a card reader. That opened a door, and they walked down a grey-carpeted hallway lined with doors. But the doors didn't have a number on them or offer any hint as to what might be behind them. But next to each door was a card reader.

When they had gone a short way down the hall again, John ran his card over the card reader, and the door opened. The two of them stepped into a conference room. There were three men in the room. Two were about the same age as John, and the third was about the same age as Tom. John began, "Tom, let me introduce you to everyone here. By the way, we are very casual here, so we always use just first names or nicknames. The old fart over there is Alex. His dad, Josh, started this circus during World War II. We let him think he is the ringmaster. Next to him is Bennie, our unfriendly comptroller. But, as you know, Tom, bean counters are like that. And sitting in the corner is the Old Farts sonny boy, little Alex. Or, as his only friend calls him, the PIA. Sometimes he is called LA.

John got Tom and himself a cup of coffee, and they sat around the conference table. Alex began, "Tom? You present an interesting problem to us. Let me tell you a little bit about us. My dad was an engineer and a constant tinkerer. He was always looking for ways to fix and improve whatever. Out here in the back woods, we love to go deer hunting. My dad played around with the sights and scope on his deer rifle, and he found a unique way to get a better shot. The result was that he got the bag limit on opening day. Soon all of his hunting buddies wanted one of his new-fangled scopes. Anyway, one of his buddies was in the Army and got talking with someone there about his scope and how good it was. In short order, Dad had a requisition to produce sniper scopes. Then Dad asked the fatal question, what else do you need? The answer was a better way to target artillery. That resulted in Dad playing around. Eventually, he talked the Army into lending him a cannon to play with. The result was a different method of targeting artillery. Today, it's the same with a host of refinements. That's a big part of our business today. But we do some other things too."

"Anyway, Tom, as you know, we are privately held. That is good and bad at the same time, as my old partners in crime, the Shyster, and his trusted sidekick, the Bean Counter, would say. Like me, they are getting a little long in the tooth. So, we have been looking for someone who might fit our needs. Tom, you present an interesting profile. Yeah, you are a legal beagle. But at the same time, you're also a bit of a bean counter."

"Sonny boy, over there, had him an amazing shot a few years ago on the opening day of deer season. It was a perfect headshot that took down two bucks with one shot. The question is, can you fill both shoes? Or is asking one person to do both jobs too much?"

With the question on the table, Tom leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes briefly. After reflecting for a few moments, Tom began. "The question isn't, is it doable? The simple answer is yes, it is. The important question is, how do you structure this position to safeguard company interests?"

"Folks, your company is unique in many ways. Your business is unique. However, you structure the position the person coming into it will need to be mentored. This position will be unique as well. If you select me, I will need easy access to the four of you. Given that, I am very interested in joining you here. This will be an interesting challenge that I look forward to taking on."

The four men sitting around the table all leaned back in their chairs. Tom thought what he saw was like a Vulcan Mind Meld. Or it could be a group meditation. Then they exchanged glances and nods of their heads. The son spoke up, "Tom? We want to offer you a position working with us here. You and our resident Shyster can work out all the details. We look forward to having you join us."

The Move

A month later, Tom stood outside a house he had never seen before, watching the movers bring his few earthly possessions into it. Sitting in the driveway was a new non-descript car that would undoubtedly get lost in any parking lot. As the truck pulled away, a young woman and her little daughter walked across the street. The youngster didn't walk. Instead, she strutted across the street as if she owned the world. Tom thought that little one would grow up to be a handful for some poor soul. Mom had a soft lilting smile and dancing eyes. She was holding a large, covered paper plate in both hands. "Hi," she called out. "Welcome to the neighborhood, I'm Sally Ann, but everyone calls me 'Fisher.' Because I love to go out fishing. The two of us girls go fishing to spend time on the river and watch the water flow by, and my daughter plays on the riverbank. I don't catch anything, but that's good too. But I do love my time on the river."

Before she could say another word, the little one with the attitude exploded. "I'm Lillie Beth. Most everyone calls me 'LB,' but don't you dare call me a little bit 'cause I ain't little."

As he walked into his new house, he stopped and thought. Previously when he had met a new person, one of the first things mentioned. Was, do you do for a living? Where do you work? Not here. They took the dictate seriously, no matter what, and no conversation about work and what you did.

Tom was covered in more files during his first month than he had imagined. A file was delivered to his office, and he would read the file there. But he couldn't keep the file there or make notes on the file. Yeah, security was a serious matter here. Daily he'd meet with either the Shyster or the Bean Counter and discuss the files he had viewed. Both of these men had an almost total recall of what was in a file. That was an attribute he began to develop.

Since all of the firm's clients were one or another government organization, collections for outstanding bills was a non-issue. An outside firm handled the bookkeeping and payroll sides. The CPA firm did all the tax work for them. The comptroller's primary responsibility was in the development of future budgets. Doing this required Bennie to work across all company areas. Balancing everyone's forecast future needs with anticipated revenues. Even security wasn't above kissing Bennie's ass. It's never wise to piss off a bean counter is an old corporate dictum.

On the legal side, almost all the functions of the corporate general counsel were handled by the firm's outside attorneys. That included doing virtually all the human relations functions. The firm held countless patents, and the most significant role of the general counsel was defending the firm from patent infringements.

As the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together. Tom could see how combining the two offices into one made sense. The people that John and Bennie had developed made combining the administrative functions doable. Quickly Tom was becoming engrained in the flow of the company.

Tom was invited to join the management group's informal discussions and lunches within a few weeks. The group consisted of the boss and his son, Bennie, John, and the head of engineering -- Alice Watkins. Whom, it is said, had a graphing calculator embedded in her head. Alice handled engineering, design, production, and marketing as well. If the company made it, Alice had her fingerprints on it. She looked about the same age as the heir apparent.

As Tom settled into his new life, Miss LB from across the street became a constant caller. Tom grew to look forward to her visits and their chats. Her mom was another story. Mom was worried that Tom would see LB as an annoyance. That wasn't the case. He enjoyed having LB pop in now and then. Tom began to ask her mom if he could take LB with him while he ran around town. That was an excuse for them to get a hamburger, fries, or maybe an ice cream cone. If it was an ice cream cone, they got Mom one too. Over time, Mom marveled at LB and their new neighbor developing a friendship.

LB asked Tom if he would like to go to the river with her and her Mom one Saturday morning early in the spring. They were going to go fishing, and she was the best fish catcher in the world. His response was immediate. Let's go. He cried out. Tom grabbed his fishing pole and tackle box in one hand and took LB's little hand in his other hand. Together they crossed the street. "MOM," LB cried out. "Mister Tom said yes. And ... and he's even got a real fishing pole too."

Off they went together for the first time. LB played along the riverbank while Sally and Tom settled down. Sally Ann turned to Tom. "You didn't have to do this."

With that, Tom leaned back and smiled. "Sally Ann, you are correct. I didn't have to. But I damm sure wanted to. Seeing LB playing on the riverbank makes me feel good. She is a total doll." The two of them sat there watching the river and LB playing. "Sally? I have reached a major executive decision."

That statement caused Sally to gasp, "What!!?"

Chuckling, "Sally, I have decided LB needs a water dog. One with floppy ears and a big tongue to deliver kisses with. And this dog needs to bark a lot too."

She was sitting there and shaking her head. "Tom? What the hell are you talking about?"

Without looking up, he answered. "A puppy. Every kid needs a puppy."

"Thomas! Let's get something straight. I will not have some little puppy running around my house. Do you understand me?" Sally barked out.

Tom thought to himself, OK. We'll see about that.

Saturday became their day for fishing. As luck would have it, nobody ever caught a fish. Now and then, somebody would hook a turtle, but that didn't count. For sure, they all had a wonderful time together. And they became increasingly comfortable with each other. After several outings, Tom invited Sally and LB to his house for pizza and a Coke. Then binge-watch whatever is on the TV. This became almost an established routine for them. LB curled on the floor with a blanket and 'her' pillow. While Sally Ann and Tom were camped out on the sofa, mostly watching LB. Somewhere along the line, they discovered the joys of snuggling on the couch.

Tom hadn't forgotten Sally's mandate, that she would not have 'some little puppy running around my house.' Being the excellent attorney he is, he focused on what he deemed was the operative word, 'little.' So, by extrapolation, he concluded that she would be good with a 'big' puppy. One of the guys that worked with Bennie had a Labrador Retriever who had a litter of puppies. All the pups were gone but one. At 16 weeks, he was pushing twenty pounds. So, he was anything but 'little.' The following Saturday, as usual, the three of them went fishing. While they were gone, Tom had arranged to have the puppy delivered to his house along with all the stuff puppies need.

They got back to Tom's house mid-afternoon, as was usual. As soon as the car stopped in the driveway of Tom's house. LB flew out of the car and into the house. When she ran into the house, she was greeted by a large black Lab puppy. Her screams could be heard up and down the street. Of course, Sally had to rush into the house to see what was wrong. Then she saw the spectacle of her darling daughter trying to hold a puppy who was determined to shower her with kisses. Sally came back out to the garage where she had left Tom. "Thomas!!! Do you remember what I said???" Sally almost screamed.

Tom was leaning against the hood of the car, smiling. "Yes, Sally Ann, I recall exactly what you said. Why?" The smoke coming out of her ears could be seen a mile away. "Miss Lady, what you talked about not wanting was a 'little puppy.' That's not a 'little puppy.' Hell, he is almost twenty pounds."

Standing in front of him, in a state of total rage. "Thomas, that thing is a horse."

That got Tom chuckling, "No, Ma'am. He is not a horse. He is a Labrador Retriever. Labs have a well-earned reputation as being great dogs for kids. Look at the two of them right now."

Reaching over, Tom hugged Sally as they both watched LB and her new puppy. "Hey, LB?" Tom called out. "So, what is your friend's name?"

LB thought for a second, then called out. "Hugo, 'cause he is huge."

Tom heard a soft muffled purr before Sally started talking. "Thomas, for the record, you are in deep shit. Do you understand?" Before Tom or Sally could move, LB jumped up and ran into the house with her new best friend happily following behind her. Settling down on the floor with her pillow and blanket while holding Hugo, she was the picture of contentment. She began explaining the world's natural order to her new puppy.

Tom and Sally stood together in the kitchen to watch and listen to LB. "Thomas," Sally began. "You are still on the top of my shit list. Don't you think for a quick moment that because LB has been covered in a thousand kisses. You got away with this. Mister! You are going to pay for this. Have you got it? Now! Give me another of those hugs."

Tom and Sally quietly got onto the sofa and put their feet on the coffee table. Then tossed a large lap throw over their legs as they continued to eavesdrop on LB's monologue. That little girl had found her way to seventh heaven with that puppy. Now and then, Sally would poke Tom's ribs. Then she smiled at him as she whispered. "You're in deep shit Old Man. I do hope you are enjoying this spectacle, Mister Bozo."

Sally's question got a massive smile from Tom. "Lady, I am enjoying this more than I can say. But if you want to know what the best is. It's those hugs we shared earlier. Do you think I might get another of those?"

With that, Sally found her way back next to Tom. "Old man, don't you think you are not in deep shit. But I don't know what to do with you."

Tom stretched slightly, "Sally, are you open to a suggestion? As to what you might or could do with me?" That earned him a giggle as she nodded her head. "What you could do is marry me. What do you think of that idea? And yes, dear Lady, I am serious."

His question or statement caused Sally to gasp. "Tom, that's so unexpected. OMG, are you for real? Can you be serious for once?" Sally was shaking in his arms.

At first, he placed a light kiss on top of her head. "I think the first thing that needs to happen is to ask little one over there how she would feel."

"Going on, Sally, you have done things for and to me that I have never known. You are the first woman I can say I have loved. And that little girl over there. She makes the sun rise in the morning and the Moon at night. Sally? I know that you had a tough time before. I can't unmake that. But what I can do is love you and that sweet little one." As he finished talking, he placed another kiss on top of her head.

Sally sat almost motionless for a few moments. Then she sat up. "Then she sat up. Tom? I have a question for you. How do you feel about large families?"

With that, Tom smiled. "Lady, I will not talk about it in general. I will talk about us. You and me. I'd love to have a house with lots of kids, laughter, and big dogs too." That comment earned him another poke in the ribs. "Woman, you're bad. How many kids were you thinking? Fifteen? Twenty?"