Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
ULY
I woke, my stomach rumbling. It had been two days since I’d had my appointment and Dr. Ross explained to me about the new medication.
While I hated taking pills, I was willing to pray that these worked.
That for the first time I’d be granted some peace from the racing thoughts that had plagued me my whole life.
I was genuinely touched that Mr. Lockhart contacted me to see if I’d gone to the doctor, what was said and, most importantly, when I’d be starting in my new role—whatever it was going to be.
It was weird how Mr. Lockhart actually seemed to care, even though he didn’t know me beyond our interaction at the diner and and sharing the cake.
Maybe that was it. The cake had been what sealed the deal.
“Uly?”
“Hm? Oh, I’m sorry, I was thinking about something.”
“It’s fine. I was asking when do you think you’d like to come visit our headquarters? Sit down with HR and start going through the process. We can also do it online, if you’d prefer, but since you were so nice in Milwaukee, I figured I could show you around our town.”
I had looked up Bear Mountain. It was bigger than I’d expected, though not by much.
The town had about five thousand people, and from the pictures it was surprisingly modern, given the remoteness.
Ursine itself was an eight story building of glass and steel, all sourced in the US, according to the website’s ‘about us’ page.
That led me to reading the rest of the information, like how green they were, and I had to admit, I was shocked.
Ursine was one of the leaders in the industry with its take on renewable energy.
From everything I saw, Ursine appeared to be an amazing place to work for.
Even when I looked for grumps—those people who had bad things to say—it mostly seemed to be from companies who’d been outbid on projects or someone who got an order from one of the subsidiaries that had broken during transit.
Even when Ursine replaced it, the complaint remained.
“I’ll have to come up with the fare for—”
“Already paid. I have transportation for you too.”
“That’s too much,” I complained. “I haven’t even agreed to take a job. And even if I do say yes, I’m still worried I’m not a good bet yet. Hoping to be, don’t get me wrong.”
He chuckled, and it was warm and soothing. “You’re going to be just fine,” he assured me. “Come check us out. Sit down with HR and find something you’re passionate about. And if you don’t come out soon, I’ll come get you myself.”
And I could picture him doing that.
“Don’t you have too much to do? I mean, I know you have to be insanely busy.”
“Well, yes and no. See, when my wife died—”
“I’m so sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. When she died, our sons became my primary focus.
I deal with the really big stuff, and I’m kept in the loop on everything else, but most of the day-to-day things are handled by my management team.
Stuff like the visit to Milwaukee? That’s all on me.
I have the final say on what happens to underperforming branches.
Usually we’ll retool and bring things back to where they should be.
Sometimes, like in the case of Milwaukee, we’re forced to close the division, then move our people to different areas.
We do our damnedest to never let someone go, provided they’re doing the best they can. ”
It was hard to believe that there were businesses like Ursine in the world. Ones who cared as much about their people as they did their products. I’d discovered a couple while conducting my research—in between binging on crappy reality TV—but they were the exception, not the rule.
We talked for a bit longer, with me promising him after my followup appointment next week, I would happily make the trip to Bear Mountain.
After that call, I was surprised to get a few others from Mr. Lockhart.
He’d call and say he had a cup of tea steeping and wondered if I had time for a chat.
I never said no. It made no sense that he wanted to speak to me, but I was grateful for a little bit of his time.
It got to the point where I set up my own cup of tea to be ready for his call.
I liked talking with him. Even if he was rich, he seemed pretty down to earth.
He told me about fishing with his twin sons, how his wife had died and how the boys had been in the room when it happened, how his day was going. It was as if the man needed someone to unload on, and I was happy to be the recipient.
This evening’s conversation was a bit different. It had started off as normal. Mr. Lockhart was talking about his sons and a play their school had done recently and how proud he was of them and their accomplishments. Then he switched gears.
“So Cullin…. Do you remember me telling you about him? Wait. Did I tell you about him?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back the laugh that wanted to bubble out. Mr. Lockhart was so earnest, and I didn’t want to upset him.
“You told me he was looking into someone named Chaim—which is a cool name, by the way—but thus far he hadn’t found anything.”
“And that’s very unusual for Cullin. He’s got all kinds of skills, and usually can find someone no matter what. Chaim is proving elusive.”
“Mr. Lockhart, I have to ask. Why are you telling me these things?”
He gasped. “I’m sorry, am I oversharing?”
“No, it’s not that. But wouldn’t it be better for you to talk with someone you know?”
That earned me a sigh. “In Ursine, I’m the big cheese. Everyone treats me differently because… well, just because. They all look to me for direction, and if I show any weakness, they’d probably panic. I’m very sorry if I took our conversations too far. I won’t do it—”
“Wait, no. Hold on. That isn’t what I mean at all. I am not complaining. I just didn’t want you to regret talking to me.”
He chuckled. “That day at the coffee shop? You told me why you were leaving. You opened up, let me in, but you didn’t know me. Why was that?”
I thought for a moment. “Because it’s easier to talk with a stranger sometimes?”
“Yeah, there is that. But I also felt that you would be easy to talk to. Someone I could open up to and not be judged differently. I guess it’s just nice to be myself for a change. I’m very sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
But he hadn’t. If anything, he’d made me feel special, which was weird. I didn’t have many friends. Shit, I didn’t have any friends, not really. Jamie and Deb would be the closest, but since we’re related, they didn’t count in that category.
“You didn’t, I promise. I… I like talking with you. Almost makes me feel like I have a friend.”
And didn’t that sound pathetic?
A warm snicker filled my ears. “Is it weird I feel the same way? I don’t have friends here. Not really. I mean, they’re not the kind of folks I can go out to the bar with. It wouldn’t be proper.”
At times he said things that made little sense to me. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with someone like Mr. Lockhart?
“Mr. Lockhart, I—”
“Listen, Uly. Would you mind calling me Brent? If we’re going to be friends, we should use first names, don’t you think?”
“But you’re my boss. Well, will be soon, I hope.”
“Okay, how about outside the office you call me Brent, but when we’re with others, you use Lockhart?”
“Dude, I literally just started taking these pills. I don’t know if my brain will allow it.”
“If it doesn’t, that’s fine. We’ll deal. Please. The last people to really call me anything other than Mr. Lockhart were Jenna, Chaim, and… Well, I miss hearing it. I told my secretary and my housekeeper to do it, but they defaulted back to Mr. Lockhart right away.”
Who knew the ultra-rich could have everyday problems like this?
In my mind, especially after reading the papers, I always thought their biggest fear was where to stash their cash to avoid taxes or which yacht to buy or whether they could afford to visit space.
Yet Mr. Lock—Brent—wanted someone to call him by name.
“I’ll try… Brent.”
He sighed. “Thank you. It’s been a long time since I really heard my name.”
And that made me sad for some reason.
brENT
Was it wrong that hearing my name on Uly’s lips was a balm to me?
Within the sleuth, at least at functions, I was called by my title, ‘Typhon’, which was the name of the ancient bear god who merged our souls with the animals, hoping to instill humility within us.
Our bear sides were stronger, more aggressive.
Our human sides were expected to be kinder, gentler.
Typhon assumed we’d become an amalgam of both parts, but not shifters.
That aggression? It bled over to our human sides.
The caring and nurturing part? Our bears inherited some of that, which explained our love of the cubs in our sleuth.
My father loved being called Typhon. He lorded it over others, reminding them at every turn they were small and pathetic, and that if he wanted, he could crush them like insects beneath his paws.
In my teens, especially after Chaim disappeared, I grew surly and angry.
A benefit of the hormones that surged within my developing body that I would gladly have skipped.
At times I swore I wanted to be Typhon just so I could smack down anyone who opposed me. Especially my father.
Then Chaim’s words would come back to me: “You’re a good person, who would use his strength to protect others, not terrorize them.
That’s what the sleuth needs, someone strong, but kind.
Someone who will always remember what it was like to be the little guy who needed help. Will you promise me that’ll be you?”
And I did swear I would, and even though it was a struggle, I did my best to live up to that promise. Did I always succeed? I want to say yes, but chances are good the truth was no.