Grow Down

Chapter 1
Public Image 101

Chapter Description: Don't you just want to kick rich people in the shins sometimes?

Grow Down

By GSun

C1

Joseph Barron sat impatiently at his 23rd story desk in private office. His office was the only room on the entire floor, and his eastern and western walls were nothing more then giant glass plates. Sunlight was pouring in from the eastern-most window, and the digital clock on Joseph’s desk bleeped seven O’Clock. The elevator binged lightly, and as the door opened Joseph groaned to see he was scheduled for a charity meeting this morning.

“Sir, you need to improve your public image,” his secretary had said about two weeks ago, “Nothing says, ’I care,’ more then donating to a charity!” Joseph ruffly agreed. He had to admit, his poor public image probably cost him some profits somewhere, but truthfully Joseph Barron didn’t care too much. Aside from being the entropenure of the world’s most successful chemical plant, Joseph’s family was also among the most successful in the country. Joseph’s latest investment was also paying off nicely. Joseph had a laboratory built to study different forms of viruses and bacteria. It gave many investors hope for cures for elusive diseases, such as AIDS and HIV. It brought a large numbers of funds into the chemical companies. Only a small percentage of the donations actually went to the disease, but that was something Joseph believed that his donnators didn’t need to know about.

Two people walked out of Joseph’s elevator. Joseph didn’t glance up, why giver beggars any attention?

“Excuse me, Mr. Barron. My name is Emilia Regnoff and I represent the Philadelphia Preschool and Daycare. We had an appointment.”

“Why, yes! You did, didn’t you?” Joseph used a tone that conveyed his mood of ’ I’m only pretending to care’ quite well. Ms. Regnoff didn’t seem to get the message.

“I thought I’d bring one of my children with me. This is Syrus Scisalee,” A little boy of about eight peered out from behind Ms. Regnoff.

“Hello,”

“Hey, how ya doing,” Joseph barely shot a glance at the child, “Now, why don’t you set the little munchkin into the corner so we can talk?”

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Syrus hated only two things in life. He hated his last name; and he hated being called ’little’. Although he had never heard the word ’munchkin’ before, he knew that it must mean ’little’ in some way.

The mean man and Ms. Regnoff were far away and out of earshot of Syrus. Syrus didn’t mind so much though. The man was really mean and Syrus didn’t like his voice. Syrus’ legs hung down off the padded chairs, so he swung them merrily.

Another thing Syrus hated was heights. Although it wasn’t in the same category of hate as his last name or being called ’little’, heights invoked an unknown fear inside of Syrus. He quickly turned his head away and went back to his feet.

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It seemed like it took an eternity for Mr. Barron to get his message across. Emilia got the message right away, he didn’t plan on donating anything. He kept on giving absurd allegories and reasons why donations were impossible, acting like Emilia was a moron. After an hour of him explaining himself, Emilia wanted nothing more than to scream at this horrid man, “I get the picture! You don’t want to donate!” But she kept up the hope that he might be debating with himself on whether or not to reconsider. This hope kept her and Syrus in the office until the sunlight was no longer pouring in from the eastern window, but instead from a concealed skylight.

Finally, Mr. Barron had finished his speech, and had Emilia and Syrus ’escorted’ from the building. Emilia was very disappointed on having let her staff down. She stared at Syrus, who was distracted by all of the people, and she felt like her sorrows had intensified. Syrus, more then all of the children, needed this support. Emilia sighed with a sorrowful tone as she turned the exhaust of her car.

“What’s wrong, Ms. R?” Syrus asked innocently.

“Why, Syrus, honey, what makes you thing some thing’s wrong?”

“You look like you did when Tommy got the flu,” He was referring to when one of the boys caught the flu and had to be rushed to the hospital for a week. He almost didn’t make it.

“Well, um, Syrus. The man inside didn’t seem to think that we needed any money,” That was the best way Emilia could think of to say it.

“But we need moneys, we need a new jungle gym and new toys and new milk, and . . .”

“Yes, honey, but if the man inside didn’t think we need money, then he isn’t going to give it to us,” Tears started to build in Emilia’s eyes. The budget was getting tight at the Philadelphia Preschool and Daycare, and the children were apparently noticing it.

“Oh,” Syrus started to stare out the window as the scenery passed by.

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