Marvin and the Man

By Randall Croom

After being passed over for yet another promotion at The Company, Marvin comes to the sobering realization that his life is a failure. He watches others around him become happier and more successful while he continues to fail time and time again. Every time he feels like he's getting close to something better, he runs into insurmountable obstacles that could have only been put there by one person: The Man.

A shadowy group called They is out to get him-he just knows it. Even worse, The Man is keeping him down and destroying his dreams. At a breaking point Marvin finally decides enough is enough. He's going to try to find The Man and stop his reign of terror once and for all.

With his best friend, Herbert, Marvin sets out on the long journey to the Ivory Tower in hopes of finding The Man. The mysterious They seem to foil the pair at every turn, and the dangers the duo face on the road to the Ivory Tower are painfully real.

Now Marvin stands to lose his job, his reputation, and perhaps even his life. He faces hard truths and difficult decisions in the dark days ahead. Against the all-powerful Man and his unlimited resources, does Marvin even stand a chance?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 13, 2007
• ISBN: 9780595913367

Randall Croom

Randall Croom knows something about pursuing dreams: he left his day job to focus on writing and doing other things he loves. He earned an MBA from Florida A&M University. Randall grew up in Birmingham, Alabama, and now lives in Indianapolis with his wife, Kimborah, and their dog, Nina Simone.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

There have always been heroes and there have always been legends. Legends, often being great, but selfish or evil, fail to be heroes. And heroes, who are good, but in one sense not great, often are forgotten by history and so fail to be legends. But every once in a great while, a person will be both loved and remembered, and so a hero and a legend will be one and the same. This is the story of one such instance.

CHAPTER 1

Are you nervous, Marv? asked Herbert, peering over the cubicle at Marvin.

Nah. It’s a done deal. This statement was about fifty percent true. Everyone knew that Marvin would get a promotion today, but that did not mean he was any less apprehensive about meeting with Van de Kamp. To have a tolerable exchange with Victor Van de Kamp was rare, but the prospect of a promotion was so welcome that Marvin thought that he would not mind Victor’s arrogance.

I would be nervous, said Herbert. By fits insightful and worrisome, Herbert Walter was an owlish man. His tuft of dark, curly, thinning hair made a very serviceable crest, and his round, piercing eyes and hawkish nose had the effect of making certain statements sound like questions, and vice versa. He was also quite oval both in body and in face, and, if possible, in personality. In his thinking, he would often vacillate between thoughts and ideas, but never in such a way that he was unsteady. Broad and rounded at the base but tapering toward the end described his complete person. He could almost never be seen without his eyeglasses, which he was constantly pushing up his nose. Marvin considered Herbert to be brilliant, and appreciated his friendship.

To tell you the truth, Herb, I thought this would come much sooner. I’ve been here for eighteen years this month, and I’d be lying if I said I never thought about leaving in all that time. But where else would I go? This job is all I’ve ever known. Marvin sat with his hands clasped, staring intently at the floor, his entire career flashing before his eyes. I guess patience pays off, after all.

Well, Herbert started, rubbing the back of his head, I was sure that you were as good as gone a few times. Honestly, I don’t know why you stayed. But it’s all paid off now, my friend.

Looking back, Marvin couldn’t understand why he’d stayed, either. There were other opportunities, but—What does it matter, Marvin thought. I’m getting promoted today—that proves that I made the right decision, doesn’t it? The hum of productivity rose to an electric buzz as people moved about in anticipation of the day’s news. Bobby the mail clerk made his rounds. Marvin always thought Bobby was snotty, and the indifferent way he dropped an envelope over the cubicle desk wall did nothing to change that opinion.

Thanks, said Marvin dryly. Bobby said nothing. Marvin started to get indignant, but thought better. Why let Bobby get to him? It was just a matter of minutes before he finally got that promotion he’d been wanting. What difference would a snotty mailroom clerk make then?

Marvin examined the envelope. The return address read The Old Boys Club. Marvin’s stomach tightened. He had applied for membership months ago. Herbert instantly recognized the letterhead.

Oh, man, Herbert said excitedly. Do you know what this means? It was a question that Herbert neither expected nor needed an answer to. Everybody knew what membership in the Old Boys Club meant, even Bobby, who perked up a bit, now unable to affect his usual air of arrogant indifference. Marvin’s stomach tightened as he slid his finger underneath the flap. Could it be? Had he finally been accepted?

The answer to that question would have to wait. The phone rang.

Marvin Early, he answered. A crackly voice spoke back at him.

Mr. Van de Kamp will see you now.

All the world was quiet for a moment. Marvin didn’t hear Herbert’s words of encouragement or Bobby’s derisive comment about luck. He didn’t hear what Jill from Accounting or Doug from Finance said as they patted him on the back as he walked down the hall and into the elevator. He was too focused on how his life was about to change. Sound came back to him slowly as he stepped off the elevator on the top floor. First he became aware of his heartbeat, and then his footsteps, and finally his own breathing. He straightened his tie and opened the heavy oak double doors in front of him, ready to walk into his future.

Marvin walked in only to be stopped by Victor Van de Kamp’s raised index finger. He was on the phone. Marvin turned his back and pretended to be admiring Mr. Van de Kamp’s awards and office artifacts, but he could not help paying attention to the phone call. Mr. Van De Kamp was middle management, but somehow he managed to get an office on the top floor. Marvin wondered about that as he looked at a photograph of Victor and some beautiful woman.

A 7:00 tee will be perfect. I’ll drive the new car so you can check it out, Victor said, leaning back in his chair. He glanced over at Marvin. He was sure he was listening. Damn right it’s fast, Victor said into the receiver. And the ladies love it. I’ve got some stories for you that you won’t believe. But hey, I’ve got somebody here. I’ll give you a call later, Dr. Winthrop.

Victor hung up the receiver. Marvin. Hey. Have a seat. I was just finishing some important business.

Thanks, Mr. Van de Kamp.

Call me Victor.

Sure Mr. Van de—er, Victor. In truth, Marvin never cared much for Victor Van de Kamp. He was undoubtedly pompous and materialistic. He couldn’t help feeling that he didn’t deserve his position. But what bothered Marvin the most was the quiet admission in his heart that part of him wanted what Victor already had.

Victor folded his hands behind his head and leaned even further back in his chair, revealing a shiny watch.

A Rolex is the true mark of a real man, Victor said matter-of-factly. I’m sure you’ll be able to get one of these someday. The statement was just ambiguous enough that Marvin couldn’t tell whether it was a compliment or an insult. He was inclined to view it as the latter. You have to reward yourself when you’re the best, he said, still looking at his watch. Marvin unconsciously rubbed his bare left wrist.

Well, I’m boring you with all this, I’m sure, Victor said. You’re here to discuss business, right?

Yes, sir, Marvin replied, trying not to let the eagerness show in his voice.

You’ve been with The Company for a long time, Victor started. The file on you says seventeen years.

Eighteen this month, sir.

Well, congratulations on that, Early. Heck, I can’t imagine being anywhere that long. Victor spoke the last sentence to himself, disregarding his present company for a moment. I guess that’s why I couldn’t stay married, Victor laughed. But he quickly shifted to a conspiratorial tone, leaning forward onto his expansive cherry wood desk.

As you know, top management has outlined some new strategic objectives for The Company. It’s a brave new world out there, and we’re moving in a bold new direction to accommodate it. Victor was getting worked up now, enjoying the way the visionary words sounded in his voice. We’re talking about synergistic adaptiveness to diverse business scenarios here. Marvin didn’t know what that meant. The Company built and sold widgets. In eighteen years, Marvin never once thought about synergistic anything. He nodded his head enthusiastically anyway. He was about to be a big part of the team, and he didn’t want to give any indication that he wasn’t fully on board.

Victor continued, To meet these intense demands, we’re making some personnel changes. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.

I try not to pay too much attention to them, Marvin said unconvincingly.

Well, Victor continued, the fact is there have already been some shifts. The Company values your years of experience and commitment, and we think it’s best to put you in position where that experience can be put to use.

I’m honored, Marvin said. I won’t let you down.

Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, Victor replied. We both know how difficult it can be to come into a new position, especially when you’re relatively young.

Absolutely. Marvin could have sworn that he and Victor were about the same age—in fact he was sure of it. Still, it was good to know that Victor still viewed him as being in his prime.

And that’s why I want you to be the one to show the new division director the ropes.

Show the new division director the ropes, sir? Marvin couldn’t hide his bewilderment. Wasn’t he supposed to be the new division director? Isn’t that what this meeting was about?

Hey, don’t worry, said Victor, misreading Marvin’s expression. It’s nothing too tough, nothing formal. You’ll still have all your current duties. I just want you to show Bobby the ropes—help him ease into the position, answer any questions he might have. Heading up a division, I don’t think Bobby will have time to think about all the little details.

The words collided with Marvin’s chest. I— Marvin searched for words, answers, reason even, but the endeavor was fruitless. Bobby? Winthrop? Marvin sat in disbelief and looked at his hands, as though they had failed him. He envisioned the overly manicured, shifty-eyed Bobby throwing assignments on his desk the same way he threw the mail. This is unbelievable, said Marvin aloud. He’s been here less than a year!

I know, said Victor, his eyes wide. Amazing, isn’t it? He’s working in the mailroom one day and running a division the next. It just goes to show that hard work and dedication pay off.

Disbelief gave way to anger and anger was just about to give way to rage. Marvin was about to forget himself when Victor, unaware of Marvin’s imminent outburst, asked a question that was really a statement: So we can count on you, right?

Right, Marvin said resignedly, sinking into his chair. You can always count on me.

black.jpg

As soon as Marvin turned the corner, Herbert knew something was amiss. His walk was not the confident stride of a man who had been elevated to a position worthy of his abilities, but rather the forceful, brutish march of a man possessed by madness.

That pea-brained idiot doesn’t know his bum from his—

Heyyy! Herbert cut in, saving his friend from career suicide. You don’t mean that. What happened up there?

I didn’t get the promotion, Herb. I didn’t get the promotion! Marvin’s voice reached a fevered pitch. After all the time I’ve put in at this mangy place. We’re surrounded by idiots! Idiots! Heads started to turn in Marvin’s direction. The tone of his voice had pricked some ears.

Herbert Walter, out of either incredible wisdom or incredible fear, wrapped his arm around Marvin’s shoulder guided him down the hall to the men’s restroom. Man, what’s wrong with you? Get a hold of yourself! Herbert gasped. Don’t you know that They could be listening?

I don’t care what They think, Herbert. They gave my promotion to Bobby. Bobby!

Bobby? The skinny kid from the mailroom?

One and the same. And Victor wants me to ‘assist him in making this transition.’ That’s what the meeting was about.

Oh man, I don’t know what to tell you. Herbert ran both his hands through his hair, processing this new information. No wonder you were steamed. But you can’t walk around talking crazy like this. They’ll have your head, not to mention your job, he rationalized, hoping that reason would calm Marvin’s temper.

Marvin slumped against the tile wall and slid down to the cold bathroom floor. Herbert was right, at least about his outburst. How many people had heard him? Seen him? Word would spread quickly. They would surely get the word back to Victor. Marvin began to feel despondent as the truth set in. Nothing could be worse.

Wait, said Marvin, perking up slightly. I never read my letter from the Old Boys’ Club. Acceptance to the Old Boys’ Club would change everything. Mem

bership in the Club would open up doors to all sorts of opportunities and usher him into a whole different life. He could rub elbows and set tee times with the big boys. Better yet, he would be a big boy. Marvin imagined himself finally getting the respect he felt he deserved. He started to pick himself up from the floor. Hang on, said Herbert bashfully. "I, ah … well, I couldn’t wait. I was so

excited for you that I read the letter while you were talking to Van de Kamp. And? I think you should read it for yourself." Herbert handed him the envelope.

Marvin unfolded the paper. He knew what it said even before he even read it all.

Mr. Early:

We have finalized the review of your membership application. At this

time, we do not believe that you are a suitable candidate for our organiza

tion. Thank you for your interest in the Old Boys’ Club.

Sincerely,

The Membership Committee

I’m sorry, said Herbert. In all their years of friendship, Herbert had never seen his friend so sad. He searched his heart to see if there were anything he could do or say, and knew that it was best to keep silent. He sat down on the tile next to Marvin and stared at the opposite wall. Both men were still for a long time, but it was clear from the intense furrow in Marvin’s brow that he was thinking hard.

Marvin finally spoke. Herbert, he began, have you ever wondered why our lives are the way they are?

What do you mean, Marv?

We come to work every day, just like anyone else. But other people seem to be living better lives than we do. Look at some of our childhood friends. Clayton, for example. He’s become a wealthy banker. Clayton, who was always asking me to borrow lunch money, says I don’t qualify for a loan at his bank.

Herbert knew this to be true, and nodded.

And Jacob, the jeweler, drives his luxury sedan and lives in the best part of town. But he was lucky—he never could have opened his store if his wealthy uncle hadn’t left him an inheritance.

Herbert had to admit that Jacob’s inheritance was a huge boon. It had been all the talk around Upper Stanton at the time.

Look around us. There are lots of people who spend more money in a month than we make in a year. Think of the cars in the parking lot. I know you’ve always wanted a convertible. At this age, why should you not be able to have one? Why shouldn’t I have the house that I want? Other people are living the life of my dreams. Marvin looked directly into Herbert’s eyes. Herbert had no answer.

I have never thought about it much, Marvin. I’m just hoping that one day—

One day never comes, Marvin cut him off. Can’t you see that? We’ve been waiting for ‘one day’ for many years now. We have no day but today.

Herbert looked away. I have never heard you say things like this before.

I haven’t ever thought like this before. Haven’t we done what is required of us? Don’t we come to work every day? We made decent grades at college. We’ve worked hard. We go to church and put what little money we can in the collection plate. We have done all that we are supposed to do. Have you ever asked yourself why we don’t get any breaks?

Marvin stared at his hands again. They were clenched into fists. I think I’m being held back.

By whom? Herbert asked. Victor’s a— Herbert checked under the bathroom stalls to make sure there were no feet —jerk, he whispered, but I don’t think he’s thinking about us that much.

Not by him. Somebody bigger.

The president of The Company? I don’t think he even knows who we are.

Marvin shook his head, and then his eyes steeled over. Think about it. My career, my goals, my life—none of them have turned out the way I wanted. Every time I feel like I’m getting close, it’s all taken away, right before my eyes. Only one person has the power and resources to do that to me time and time again.

What are you saying? asked Herbert, afraid of the answer.

Herbert, I think The Man is trying to keep me down.

Have you lost your mind? Herbert gasped. If anybody knew you even mentioned … him … who knows what could happen? We are not having this conversation.

I don’t even care any more, Marvin said defiantly. I’m tired of living like this. Door after door slammed in my face. I can’t take it anymore.

So what are you going to do? What can you do? It was a rhetorical question that Herbert regretted asking as soon as it came out of his mouth.

I’m going to stop him. I’m going to find The Man and get the life that I want.

B-but, Herbert stammered. No matter. Marvin had already picked himself up off the floor and pushed the swinging bathroom door aside, and suddenly found himself in the middle of a small, nervously chattering throng. A dozen or so people had been trying to eavesdrop through the bathroom door. He was sure that They knew something, but he couldn’t tell how much. It was common knowledge that They had secret agents in almost every facet of public life, but it was almost impossible to discern who They were. Despite the fact that They were shrouded in shadow and secrecy, no one could deny the influence They had. You know what They say was a common phrase, even though most people didn’t know exactly what They said or who They were. The crowd parted for Marvin as he walked through the sea of Company employees.

Dolores, he said to the receptionist on the way out the door, I’m taking some time off. He did not look back.

CHAPTER 2

It was a long drive home. Marvin watched the raindrops bead on his window until they reached critical mass and were forced down by wind and gravity. Marvin found the gray sky calming as he contemplated what he would do next. He was grateful that he had accumulated a great deal of vacation and sick leave. Until today, he had taken great pride in the fact that he had missed work only once in eighteen years. Now, he could not be sure when he would go back. After word got around the office, he wasn’t even sure if he could go back. I’m such an idiot. How many of those people knew that I wasn’t getting promoted? he thought. The joke’s on me. How can I face any of them again? Hot blasts of embarrassment began to wash over Marvin’s face as he viewed the day’s events through the lens of hindsight for the first time. He checked his rearview mirror. The black sedan had been trailing him for a while. Too nice a car for this part of town, Marvin thought. The landscape had gradually changed from one of towering steel and glass structures and sharply dressed professionals to one of peeling paint and cracked concrete. Marvin dreamed of owning a house in the better part of town, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle the financial responsibility. Besides, he had always hoped that he would have someone to share such a home with, and … that car was still behind him.

They had stopped at a red light. Marvin noted that the driver had on dark sunglasses—very strange for an overcast gloomy day like this. Indeed his suit, tie, and overcoat were all a wooly black. He caught himself staring and, despite the fact that he couldn’t see the eyes behind the shades, he was sure the man was looking back at him. The man smiled and waved. Marvin was caught off guard. He sheepishly waved back, ashamed that he’d been caught staring at another grown man. The black sedan pulled into the turning lane beside him. Marvin could make out a person behind the tinted glass. He was about to wave his hand in apology when the man in the black sedan let his window down. The smile twisted into a cold frown on a cold face, and the shadowy figure glared at Marvin without ever removing his black-gloved hands from the steering wheel. The light turned green, but Marvin didn’t notice. After what seemed like all the time in the hourglass, the man in black disappeared behind his tinted window and made a U-turn in the deserted, windy street. Marvin felt a chill at his neck.

The rest of the way home proved uneventful, but Marvin was happy to be inside his apartment. It was in a development of old duplex units. He felt comfortable in the mild chaos of his apartment: a few dishes in the sink, a lone sock on the floor—these things put him at ease. The noise of apartment living also restored a sense of calm. As usual, the door next to him had the television volume all the way up. Poor old Ms. Hutley couldn’t hear a thing, and the muffled sounds of overacted soap operas bled through the wall. Marvin reclined on his sofa and instantly realized how tired he was. The murmuring sounds of the soaps provided the soundtrack to his convoluted dreams.

What’s wrong, Brick? I can always tell when something is bothering you.

It’s nothing, Sophia. I just need to know … do you love me?

Of course, my love. And I always will.

Sadly, love, we must put that statement to the test. There’s something I have to tell you … I’m not who you think I am … but you should get the phone.

Marvin awoke with a start. The phone was ringing, but he couldn’t find it. He had been asleep for hours, and the room was dark. He blindly flailed his arms about, hoping to find his cordless. It was under the sofa cushion.

Hello, Marvin said groggily. There was no answer, but he could hear breathing on the other end of the phone. Hello, he said again, more clearly. The breathing intensified. Creep, he spat, irritated. If you have nothing better to do than—

You are being watched, said the creaky voice on the other end.

Who is this? Marvin demanded. Who is this? The dial tone was the only reply.

I have to get out of this neighborhood, Marvin said, even though he had no idea from where the call had been placed. Marvin kicked the blanket off himself as he got up to find the light. The earlier gray skies made good on their threat as the thunderstorm filled the night air. He’d nearly reached the window lamp when a magnificent bolt of lightning illuminated the sky. And there, looking directly at him was a man dressed in black from head to toe. He had both hands tucked away in his overcoat, and his fedora shielded his eyes. Marvin jumped back and let out a startled yelp. His left arm knocked the ceramic lamp off the corner table, breaking it as it fell to the old hardwood floor. Marvin cursed aloud, stepping over the broken shards to the kitchen entrance.

This is crazy, Marvin thought. I’m calling the police. Marvin picked up the phone but there was no dial tone. The phone was dead. He stood there in the center of the kitchen, still and quiet. The roar of the wind and the sound of the driving rain pelting his windows were deafening. Another brilliant bolt of lightning split the sky from east to west, and a mighty clap of thunder shook the building. All the elements seemed to produce a cacophony of anger.

Since childhood, Marvin had always hated storms. He remembered how his dog, Danger, always ran for cover under the bed at the first sound of thunder. Once, his family came to a near frenzy looking for Marvin during one of those storms. He had been missing for over an hour. Anxiety turned to laughter, however, when his older brother found him under the bed next to Danger.