Revolucion

“Okay, Mr. Newland, have a seat. I want to thank you for coming in.” Michael motioned to the chair in the center of the room. The man he addressed had been brought into the meeting room by two Associates of considerable build and sober countenance. All three were well-dressed as one would for a business meeting.

“I didn’t ask to be here. Who are you?”, the man asked.

“I’m Michael Whitetree and I’m the Deputy Director for this District, Mr. Newland. Now, please: won’t you sit down?”

The man looked at Whitetree then glanced over his shoulders at his minders, then made a prudent choice.

“I don’t know why you call me Newland. That’s not my name”, the man said as he moved toward the chair.

“I understand it’s all a bit confusing. Would you prefer I call you by your ethnic name?”

“Ethnic name? It’s my name. Terranova.” The man was clearly disturbed by his circumstances and perturbed at being inconvenienced. He sat.

“Yes, okay”, said Whitetree, “let’s call you what you prefer at the moment. Okay, Mr. Terranova?”

“Sure. Fine. So, what’s this all about?”

“Well, as you know, we’ve been reviewing our needs in the past few months and, frankly, you’ve caught our collective eye.” Whitetree smiled disarmingly and gestured to what seemed to be a committee of five sat at the long ovoid table behind him. Some of them smiled, too, while others were busy looking at papers and notepads. “So, I thought it would be a good idea to have you come in, you know, to see how we could work together moving forward.”

“Moving forward? What the hell are you talking about?” Mr. Newland, or Mr. Terranova, depending on party affiliation view, became very agitated. “Five months ago, everything was fine. Then, you guys come in and basically take over. Fine. How that gives you any right to boss me around is beyond me.” He expected an explanation and Whitetree seemed to understand this.

“Well, Mr. Terranova, it’s simple. Five months ago, the people spoke. What they said was that they’d had enough of being the 99%. Simple as that.” Terranova smirked and began to get up. Whitetree waved him down with an outstretched palm. “Hold on. You’ve come this far, let me communicate what I have to say. Okay?” Terranova glanced back at the door, then sat and folded his arms, with an exasperated sigh.

Michael smoothed his pant front and continued his presentation. “So, long story short, like it or not, we are the people. That is, we’re the people who will get it done, whatever ‘it’ is, for the people who are out there every day, working their asses off to bring home the bacon. Okay? We work for them as much as they work for us and, if I can say it, for you, too, Mr. Terranova. But, look, let’s not get into philosophy or politics here. I asked you here to talk business.”

Terranova abruptly stood up and said, “Look – this is bullshit. I’m no Republican, Democrat or whatever the hell it is you are. I’m a business person – period. And, I don’t want to have anything to do with you. Now, if you will excuse me, I have things to do.”

He turned on his heel and made for the door. The associates seemed to be in his way and they wouldn’t move. Terranova turned to Whitetree and said, “What? They’re going to beat me up?”

“No, Mr. Terranova, they’re not going to beat you up. But,” Micheal paused, “this meeting is compulsory. You will really need to sit and finish. I, that is, we believe, it’s time for a change. So, please – have a seat.”