Short Story

...the names of those involved have been changed to protect the innocent...

March 1, 2001 5:39 p.m. - Nerves, nerves, nervesÐ'...how can one letter enclosed inside of an envelope determine so much? Michael Livingston had plenty to lose. Try four years of undergraduate school at Morehouse University, two years of Notre Dame graduate school, and Harvard Law. Yes he had plenty to lose. Walking into the door of his closed-space apartment, he sits down with the letter in plain view. Thump, Thump, Thump! His heart races like greyhounds at a race track. The time is here. The time is now. Michael opens the letter to find his results of the BAR exam he had takenÐ'...

"Dear Mr. Livingston,

It gives us great pleasure to inform you that you are in the ninetieth percentile upon completion of the Virginia State BAR Examination. Congratulations on your success."

Experiencing a seventh heaven elation, Michael throws the life-saving letter up in the air, and yells to the top of his lungs. He sits down on the couch with a sudden thrust as if he were lightheaded. He picks up the letter again and reads it a few more times before disregarding it for the last time. As he catches his breath, the tight brown belt from his khaki trousers digs into his stomach making for an even more uncomfortable pose. Pulling his white Geoffrey Beane button-up shirt out of his trousers, Michael then gets up and walks into his room as if he were in a drunken stoop. The excitement he was experiencing tired him more than the 9 to 5 internship at the courthouse. While his heavy head sunk into the pillow, Mike hears a mysterious knock at his apartment door. "Who in the hellÐ'...?" he says emphatically. Mumbling words that would turn his mother in her grave, Michael looks out the peep hole he normally uses to look a Cynthia's ass.(Cynthia is the 24 year old film student that lives in front of Michael.) He then notices three gentlemen; all dressed in fine tailored suites with matching hats and coughing handkerchiefs. Michael shouts, "Who is it and what do you want?" "Mr. Livingston," one gentleman replies. "We are representatives from Sampson, Heath, Jacks, and associates. May we have a word with you Sir?" Michael tells the gentlemen to hold for a moment while he puts on a shirt. He comes back and opens the creaking door. "Good evening fellows, what can I do for you?" he asks. "Well Mr. Livingston, we would like to discuss a matter that we feel would be very beneficial to you," one gentleman explains. "We recruit young, smart men who are fresh out of law school, and we want you." Michael stares off into the distance as if he sees something on the wall." We've been notified of your outstanding examination scores, and we're willing to offer you a deal you can't refuse. Returning back to the world, Michael looks at the gentlemen with a stern, unyielding glare and says, "Excuse me for asking, but how do you know about my scores being that I just received them today?" "We know all," one gentleman says boldly. We want to offer you a position in our firm with a set salary of $360,000.00 a year, along with full benefits, and other perks. We'll consider you a friend of the firm," he said jokingly. "You'll be your own boss. You control how far you progress in the firm Michael." "Give it some more thought; here's our card. Stop by the office so we can iron out the details." Michael, stiff and in awe, shakes the gentlemen's hands, and sees them to the door. "How about I meet with you all tomorrow at 10 a.m.?" Michael says. The gentleman looks at him and with a sharp smirk, touches the brim of his hat and walks away with the other two.

11:11 p.m. Ð'- Dazed and hypnotized by the dripping faucet, Michael lies awake in his full-sized bed starring into nothing. Continuous contemplation happens beyond his control. He finds it extremely bizarre that three men who he's never seen before in his life would show up on his doorstep and offer him a job. "There has to be a catch," he thought. Given his current financial situation, and his educational debt, $360.00.00 sounds very appealing. But, there has to be a catchÐ'... "I'm gonna go check it out for the hell of it; and they way things are right now, I just may take it," he pondered. Tossing, Turning, Tossing, Turning...the bed offered him no comfort throughout the night as he lay restless on the cold, wet sheets. 3 a.m., 5:24 a.m., 8:46 a.m. The time crept by with each sleepless moment for Michael. He suddenly became conscious as the sun grazed his eyes and warmed his body. It was time for him to awaken to a new day; a new career perhaps; in what? He did not know. He got dressed as soon as he could, and ran out the door as only a rookie lawyer could. The card that he had received from the gentlemen gave precise directions to the building. It was a very new building; something that looked like a glass monument just for him. Just as Michael walked up to the door, an extremely hefty man met him almost simultaneously. Michael was nearly startled by the heavily built stature of the man, but he then realized that the man had to accompany him to the "office." Admiring all of the paintings on the wall on the way to the "office," Michael nearly collides with the hefty gentleman. Once he gets to the door, the hefty fellow leaves his presence and returns to his outside post. "Here I am," he says to himself. He slowly pushes the door open, and to his surprise he finds...

10:01 a.m. - A room full of middle-aged white men sitting at a round table. All had on similar suits; mostly black and blue. Michael noticed the gentlemen that stopped by his apartment were in attendance also. Mr. Sampson, one of the founders of the firm, (who also looked like a watered-down version of Stanley Kubrick) stood up and asked Michael to have a seat. "Mr. Livingston, you do know why you're here don't you?" he asked. Michael silently nodded. "A few of my colleagues met with you yesterday to discuss future employment here at S.H.J. & A correct?" Michael locked eyes on him and gave a simple "yes." "We trust that you've made a decision regarding this, and we would like to hear it. Michael stood as if someone had trodden his legs and watered is palms. He cleared his throat and said, "Gentlemen, I have reviewed your generous offer, and unfortunately I have decided to decline it. I feel a bit uneasy about doing a job that I have yet to gain information about. Mr. Jacks, another firm founder, looks at Michael with a vengeful, tactless vogue and says, "Mr.

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