Читать книгу The Story of Charlie Mullins: The Man in the Middle - Jim Wygand - Страница 6

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“Mullins! Don’t forget, I want those financial reports by Thursday!” Fred Perkins always barked his orders and everybody at the Shaw Corporation except Charlie Mullins lived in mortal fear of the terrible-tempered vice-president and treasurer.

“They’re already finished, Fred. You want ‘em now or shall I send them to your office?”

“I’ll send Laura around. I’ve got a meeting now.” Perkins snapped.

“OK Fred. As you wish.”

Perkins stalked off, his mood now even fouler than before. Charlie Mullins got him ruffled. He was the only one who dared to call Perkins by his first name. Everyone else at Shaw called him Mister Perkins and did so with trepidation. Every time Charlie used his first name, Perkins felt an adrenaline rush and he could almost feel the sharp rise in his stomach acid level. It was Perkins’ habit to always refer to subordinates by their last name and he always barked it. Charlie always seemed to be ready for him and his demands and always with what Perkins thought was a slight tone of mockery in his voice. He felt like every time he dealt with Charlie his power suffered an imperceptible reduction.

Fred Perkins was the quintessential sycophant. The irascible vice-president recognized only two kinds of people in the world – those below him and those above him. The former he bullied with his tirades and foul humor. The latter he treated with servile deference. Employees lived in mortal fear of Perkins’ tirades. He would berate, insult, humiliate, and reduce the unfortunate object of his wrath to a quivering mass. But Charlie Mullins never rattled. Because Charlie was not intimidated by Perkins the latter was always reluctant to bully him and that drove Perkins nuts. The minute Perkins would raise his voice, Charlie would simply say, “I can hear you Fred.” and Perkins would lower his voice to his normal bark.

Charlie leaned back in his chair and watched Perkins stomp away in the direction of his own office, even though he said he was going to a meeting. He smiled inwardly. He knew that he ruffled Perkins’ feathers and he enjoyed it but he knew that it was not Perkins who would pay the consequences. The bastard would take his anger out on his longsuffering personal assistant, Laura.

Charlie let Laura enter his thoughts for a moment. He liked and felt sorry for her. She was divorced and had a son in college. She couldn’t afford to leave the Shaw Corporation because there just were not that many jobs in South Jersey where she could earn the same salary. She did her best to placate Perkins but it seemed that the harder she tried, the nastier he got.

Charlie snapped out of his short daydream to see several of his colleagues and subordinates staring at him. They all marveled at the way he handled Perkins.

As Charlie looked around at his fellow workers they immediately started lowering their heads into their work. Later they would comment to each other about how, once again, Charlie Mullins had moved Fred Perkins one step closer to a stroke.

Charlie spun his chair to face the window and looked out across the Delaware River to Shoreville, his home town. If he squinted his eyes, he could see the outline of the houses where many of the workers of the Shaw Corporation lived. In spite of his executive job, Charlie still lived in Shoreville. He never moved across the river to Wilmington where most of the company’s management lived. He had been born in Shoreville, went to school there, and most of his friends lived there.

“Charlie?” his reverie was broken by Laura Metzer, Perkins’ personal assistant. When he spun around he noticed that her eyes were red and puffy. She was trying hard to hold back the tears.

“Hey Laura. You OK?”

“I’m fine Charlie. He’s a terror today. He just jumped down my throat because I had some pencils spread out on my desk. He told me I was sloppy and my desk looked like hell. Well, you know the routine.”

“Aw hell, I’m sorry Laura. I probably set him off by calling him ‘Fred’ again.”

Laura managed a wry smile. “He hates that, you know. He’ll never admit it, but he really hates it. You’re the only person in this whole department who doesn’t bow and scrape to him and it almost kills him. What’s your secret Charlie? If anybody else did what you do they’d be out of here before Personnel even had time to fill out a pink slip.”

Charlie smiled, more to himself than to Laura, “I dunno Laura. I guess it’s just because I have been with the company for 10 years and my father worked here for over 30. A lot of senior people here knew my father and liked him. Maybe Fred thinks I have some sort of leverage with someone above him. Then again, maybe I just have a sixth sense for knowing what he wants before he wants it.”

“Well whatever it is, Charlie Mullins, you sure keep him off balance. And I’m the one who pays for it.” She shrugged and then added, “Well, I guess it is just worth it to know that someone can stand up to him. He’s just so nasty to people.”

Charlie smiled again, this time at Laura. “I’m sorry for that, Laura. I really am. You know, in spite of his attitude and the way he treats people, he is a pretty good professional.”

“Yeah, I know” Laura answered, “I just wish he could control himself a little more. Anyway, I guess you know I am here to pick up the financial reports.”

“Right here, Laura.” Charlie handed her the papers.

“Well, thanks for listening Charlie. I guess I better get back before he comes looking for me.”

“No sweat, Laura. Keep cool. By the way, how’s your son?”

“A mother’s pride Charlie! Straight A’s. He’s a good kid!”

“You don’t have to tell me that. He’s got a good mother. Hang in there Laura. Don’t let Fred grind you down.”

“Thanks, Charlie and thanks for asking about Billy.”

As Laura Metzer headed back down the hall to her desk Charlie thought to himself that Fred Perkins would probably love to fire him if only he could find a cause. Charlie was methodical and organized. He was always a step ahead of Perkins and it amused him that others thought he had some sort of sixth sense about what Perkins would demand next.

But Charlie knew that people like Perkins were not hard to figure out. They were bullies. He’d seen them in the Army, in college, and in corporations. The minute they thought you were intimidated they puffed up and started bellowing even louder. The more you quaked, the more they bullied. All you really had to do was relax and look them straight in the eye. When you did that, they usually lowered their voice and backed off.

Charlie remembered the one and only time that Perkins had lit into him. It had been shortly after Charlie had joined the company and the incident involved Perkins’ demand for some report. When Perkins began his tirade, Charlie relaxed his body and stared directly into Perkins’ eyes with a glare that told Perkins that there might be something cold and steely behind it, and that it might not be wise to try to find out. He said, “I can hear you, Fred.” By the time Perkins got his third word out of his mouth, he was speaking in his normal “bark”. Charlie gave Perkins a friendly smile which said “That’s better, Fred” and he replied in a calm and steady voice, “I’ll have that report for you by the end of the day, Fred.”

Perkins was perplexed. Charlie had not challenged his authority, just his authoritarianism. He acquiesced with his dignity intact and Perkins was not sure what to do, so he did nothing. But after that incident, he never again tried to bully Charlie and Charlie never gave him the opportunity to do so. It was a standoff. And Perkins hated standoffs. There was no room in his psyche for equals. His world was populated only by superiors and subordinates, the latter being treated with sadistic cruelty. Charlie was not his superior and he refused to accept the treatment Perkins reserved for subordinates. It made Perkins furious.

Charlie leaned into his work. He had a lot to do and he planned to go up to Philly over the weekend. He was not going to let his work back up and move into his personal time.