[Short Story] The Company Man

The Company Man retired today. He started at the company thirty-five years ago, when it was just a small Company. Now they’re a multinational, and they certainly couldn’t have done it without the Company Man.

The Company Man was always first into work in the morning and last to leave at night. During those early lean days of the Company, he wore many hats, but as the Company grew, they were able to build out teams and streamline processes, thanks in no small part to the extra hours that the Company Man put in to give everyone the resources they needed. By the time the Company was ready to bring on a Board, the Company Man was mostly able to ignore his phone on the nights and weekends, but he was never shy about jumping in when somebody needed help. His wife and two kids missed him when he’d duck into the spare room to take a work call that would run long and eat up the whole night, but they understood that the Company Man was essential.

When Company equity became available, the Company Man had the largest batch of options, and because of all his hard work, none of his friends at the Company who knew even minded. When his options finally vested after five years, the Company Man purchased his shares immediately. He diligently promoted the Company and its brand online. He attended all work functions and tried his best to make the culture welcoming and fun. When more teams were built out, the Company Man understood when promotions went to other people, because he knew how essential he was. Many of the Company’s oldest clients had his personal phone number, and he was on a first-name basis with many of the most intuitive people in the industry. The Company Man only asked for a raise once in his career, and the quality of his work was such that the Company didn’t bat an eye granting his request and tacking on two percent.

As time went by the Company Man was able to step away from work more and more. His son played soccer and his daughter was on the debate team, and he was able to attend most of their events, even if they spied him once or twice checking his phone in the audience or the stands. His wife had sat in front of more than one dinner over the years as it got cold, but she understood how valuable he was to his Company, and she had the stress of her own work as well to occupy her idle mind.

Now thirty five years have gone by since the Company Man first clocked in, and the children are grown and his wife doesn’t move around as easily as she used to because of the operation she had on her knee. The Company Man likes the thought of being home with her more, but the rooms of the house are cold and cavernous and empty, and he has met the young woman who will take over his accounts, and in the ease of her manner and the charm of her presence he imagines that his clients won’t miss him much after too long. As he drives home after the small retirement party that was thrown in his honor (nothing too fancy, he’d told his bosses before they’d had a chance to ask him what he might like to do on his last day), the road is open and the thick pink light of sunset splashes his windshield, and the Company Man realizes he is afraid.

His wife and children never resented him for his absences, but the Company Man looks back on them now and sees them pooled together, a vast lake of unspent time. And in the lake’s reflection, he sees a different man’s moments, moments spent in joy or pain or or worry or simple peace with his wife and children and friends.

The Company Man drives westward, wondering what they call that other man who spent the moments that could have been his.