The Third Part of Chapter 11: Spreading Ripples

At five on that same evening, the phone rang, and Ryan picked it up.

“Hello Ryan,”

It was Clarissa. “Hello Clarissa. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Really? My son got you pregnant? I’m so glad for you. Did you tell James yet?”

“No, he’s working late tonight.”

“How far are you into your term?”

“About seven weeks.”

“That’s excellent; I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear the news when he gets home.”

Ryan told Patricia, and she happily ruminated. “Finally, we’ll have a grandchild; I so dearly want a grandchild!”

“Me too, honey,”

“We can have him or her over for Canada Day, and next Halloween will be so joyous,” she said, and continued rhapsodising about Clarissa’s pregnancy and praising her son’s happy marriage until dinner.

James meanwhile was in Maurice’s office.

“The company isn’t doing too well; sales are down, you know. You know it’s very difficult for me to tell you that we’re going to have to…how shall I put this?”

“You’re laying me off?”

“Yes. We’re very sorry to let you go.” Maurice still felt uncomfortable about being the one responsible for the bad news, which was why he used “we’re” rather than “I’m”.

“Is this permanent?”

“Yes, unfortunately. You know, we also had to let Arlene, Fred and Riley go last week. We need to consolidate.”

“I understand,” said James, his voice faltering a bit.

“Please don’t make a scene in my office. It was hard enough watching Courtney when I did this. You have until the end of the day at six, and before you get too discouraged, you were a real asset to us over these past five years; you have a great future ahead of you, so just remember to keep a happy face.”

“Perhaps I should have been expecting this,”

“Yes, it’s very tough; anyways, you may always use me as a reference in your future job-seeking, and I’m sure others at the office would also be very glad to be references. You have their phone numbers, I presume?”

James went back to his office; the same thing had happened to Karim and Courtney earlier in the morning. Karim took it well enough, he thought; Courtney, on the other hand, was bawling as she left Maurice’s office for her own to gather her files. How shall I break the news to Clarissa, he pondered; we must delay our plans for a baby for now, as I think my unemployment will last a while. The situation put him to mind something a journalist said to him: a conscripted soldier said to his king, “why me?” The king responded, “Because”. There did not have to be a particularly good reason; after all, there was no good reason that the economy was not doing that well; the recession had been hard, like all others, on the labour force, and the economy was taking a while to recover. He also felt powerless, rather like that proverbial soldier; he was a lamb, offered at the altar of economic efficiency, or some other sacred and enshrined concept so worshipped by business managers the world over. He had spent years studying this, and it still seemed to him an arcane and twisted subject, with its own logic. He then remembered one of the reasons cited: Inxton Car Seats; in the fateful meeting, the name had struck a bell with James, and now he knew why: it was their cancelled shareholders meeting that had freed up time at the convention centre for the wedding reception; now he regarded that event not as a blessing, but as a curse; perhaps he would remember it for a while for something seeming other than what it really was, a sign of impending hardship rather than luck and convenience.

Courtney had left the office earlier in the day, and she was taking the bus home to Chelsea. The scene she had made in the office had been cathartic for her, but her unemployment left her feeling powerless; it was like she was treading water, and she had no idea of her next move. Then she resolved herself; she was twenty-six, and would not take this lying down; she was youthful, she was energetic, and now she had experience working for Maurice. Many employers would want someone like me, she thought. With the money she had, she had about six months worth of savings built up on which she could live, and then there were the Employment Insurance payments for which she was eligible; now, the problem was, where should she submit her résumé? With all of this on her mind, she ignored the greenery that was moving past her, something she did not normally do: the leaves on the trees, regardless of the colour, always soothed her when there was nothing overly burdensome on her mind, as was the case at that moment. At any rate, she thought, she would have good contacts with Maurice and James.

Maurice thought that on the one hand, they were becoming slimmer, and everybody will work smarter. Wait a minute; that is simply useless business jargon that is such a clear indicator of a paucity of creativity. The real reason always runs: we are losing money (which is the case) and we must make some very painful cuts. It is true, after all; sales are down, just as I told James, Courtney and Karim. On the other hand, there is the risk that we will be run dry; that was the fate of Isis Incorporated. Those people continued to cut their staff, and they were left with just the president and his son, and then nobody. A warning then, he resolved: that cannot happen here! It happened with the automakers, it happened with that bank; we must avoid corporate anorexia; his layoff must be the last! Speaking of which, where should we be looking for expansion opportunities? Le Chateau? Brogue? Research in Motion? How about OpenText? They all seemed like decent prospects.

James took the bus home as always, but while he usually napped on the bus for while, today he went through his options, agitated; it was clear that he had to find a new job; otherwise, he would be unable to look Clarissa in the eye. It was also clear that he would need to take a new job soon, but it escaped him where he could look. Always consider the government: they hire many economists, he told himself. If not, he could simply work in a store somewhere. His new unemployed status also made him much more apprehensive at starting a family; that would have to wait until he was certain of employment.

“Hi, can I sit here? Thanks,” said a lady when she boarded the bus.

“Of course,” said James as the woman sat beside him; in contrast to himself, the woman was humming happily to herself.

“Glum?”

“Yeah,” said James, not wishing to draw attention to his emotions, which would invite questions as to the reasons, which would lead to an uncomfortable explanation of his unemployment.

“That’s too bad. I’m Linette, by the way. I work at Cognos.”

“Good company,”

“Mostly,” she said. “There’s this one woman I don’t like; she’s kind of obnoxious. Thank goodness she’s not my boss. I think she’s in line for the chopping block; she made fun of a client’s accent yesterday,”

“Bad idea. I’m with Valoix consulting,” said James, careful to omit the word “work.”

“They’re in the building down the street, aren’t they?”

“Yes,”

The conversation was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and the rest of the ride passed in an awkward silence.

He got off at Somerset to do some grocery shopping at Hartman’s, firstly because they needed groceries, and secondly because he wanted to take his mind off worries. He left the store with some vegetables, milk, and potato chips, on which he snacked as he made the remainder of the trip home.

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