Harry had worked as a concierge in the Castle building for 32 years. In that triad of decades, the dependable gent had neither called off work nor been tardy.
Once in Harry's fourth year at 'The Castle' he'd almost been late; that had been the day Harry had wrecked his old Buick.
Even with the fender bender Harry clocked in at 6:58 a.m. two whole minutes prior to the beginning of his shift.
Later that evening, after he left work, the emergency room doctors found that Harry had broken his clavicle.
The incident had become something of an urban legend amongst the less seasoned employees.
The stories newest incarnation claimed that Harry had been working with a broken leg for several days and finally passed out behind the wheel. Harry would neither confirm or deny.
The Castle buildings ultra-rich inhabitants loved Harry as if he were family. Many of the owners of the luxury condos children had grown up knowing the impeccably dressed gentleman.
New employees said that you could set your watch by Harry Farris, and you could. Harry walked into the building at exactly 6:45 each morning.
On Sept 5th, 2022, Harry did something he had never done before he grabbed his cell phone and he called in to his job.
The manager was stunned. Even more surprising than the call itself, was what was said.
"Hello Mr. Jessup."
Harry sounded calm.
"I am not going to be able to make it into the building this morning. I have been involved in a fatal accident."
Randall Jessup, Harry's boss, the building manager, laughed.
He assumed that Harry had misspoke. Like the 12 previous managers that Harry had wound up having to train and or rescue, Mr. Jessup figured that he was much smarter than Harry.
"Don't be silly Harry. Fatal means dead."
"Sir I am aware what fatal means, and I used the proper term. I am not going to make it. I have 4 pieces of re-bar sticking out of my chest. I won't be coming back in, Mr. Jessup."
The 3.5 inch diameter metal rods had dislodged themselves, then slid off the truck in front of Harry, and slammed into his chest, driven deeper by the speed that both vehicles had been traveling.
Blood leaked from Harry's mouth as he continued to speak to his supervisor.
The bars that had pierced him hadn't even shattered his windshield, they appeared to have blended with the glass somehow.
"I apologize for any inconvenience I'm causing sir, It has been my unique pleasure to serve."
The line remained open, the sound of Harry's breathing ceased, and the only thing Randall could hear in his headset was sirens, and car horns.
Once in Harry's fourth year at 'The Castle' he'd almost been late; that had been the day Harry had wrecked his old Buick.
Even with the fender bender Harry clocked in at 6:58 a.m. two whole minutes prior to the beginning of his shift.
Later that evening, after he left work, the emergency room doctors found that Harry had broken his clavicle.
The incident had become something of an urban legend amongst the less seasoned employees.
The stories newest incarnation claimed that Harry had been working with a broken leg for several days and finally passed out behind the wheel. Harry would neither confirm or deny.
The Castle buildings ultra-rich inhabitants loved Harry as if he were family. Many of the owners of the luxury condos children had grown up knowing the impeccably dressed gentleman.
New employees said that you could set your watch by Harry Farris, and you could. Harry walked into the building at exactly 6:45 each morning.
On Sept 5th, 2022, Harry did something he had never done before he grabbed his cell phone and he called in to his job.
The manager was stunned. Even more surprising than the call itself, was what was said.
"Hello Mr. Jessup."
Harry sounded calm.
"I am not going to be able to make it into the building this morning. I have been involved in a fatal accident."
Randall Jessup, Harry's boss, the building manager, laughed.
He assumed that Harry had misspoke. Like the 12 previous managers that Harry had wound up having to train and or rescue, Mr. Jessup figured that he was much smarter than Harry.
"Don't be silly Harry. Fatal means dead."
"Sir I am aware what fatal means, and I used the proper term. I am not going to make it. I have 4 pieces of re-bar sticking out of my chest. I won't be coming back in, Mr. Jessup."
The 3.5 inch diameter metal rods had dislodged themselves, then slid off the truck in front of Harry, and slammed into his chest, driven deeper by the speed that both vehicles had been traveling.
Blood leaked from Harry's mouth as he continued to speak to his supervisor.
The bars that had pierced him hadn't even shattered his windshield, they appeared to have blended with the glass somehow.
"I apologize for any inconvenience I'm causing sir, It has been my unique pleasure to serve."
The line remained open, the sound of Harry's breathing ceased, and the only thing Randall could hear in his headset was sirens, and car horns.
Very interesting story. Harry's commitment to his job works for him as well as against him in life... and apparently death. Nice job :)
ReplyDeleteOkay. when I have to stay still for a minute trying to find words, I know I came across something good. Sorry I can't say anymore at the moment, Mike. But you really left me thinking how much of fiction is actually in here. Excellent job.
ReplyDeletePablo I will attempt to always leave you speechless.
DeleteBecause I admire your writing so much I appreciate the compliment.
ReplyDelete