Goodpoint

By Roberto Canducci

We see only what we focus on.
Although what we don ́t focus on can change our lives.

Six people. Six stories. And all of them strongly connected.

An owner of a newspaper stall, who is drowning in troubles.
A millionaire who has it all but the one thing he wants the most.
A careerist with a dilemma.
A womanizer who only looks at the world through money and sex.
An overweight publisher looking for a bestseller.
A young widow trying to save her son ́s life.

Can these lives be connected as they are happening in different places all around the world?

What if they can't exist without each other?
Is everyone looking for their own "Goodpoint"?

You may have missed a bus, or somebody cancelled a scheduled meeting.

You may have just not greeted someone on the street, or intentionally not pick up the phone.

You may have pushed someone by accident, or your car broke at the most inconvenient time.

Do you think these things are insignificant in life and do not mean anything? What if it is just the opposite?

What if life consists of seemingly insignificant things?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roberto Canducci
• Release date: Oct 6, 2018

Book preview

GOODPOINT

Social novel by

Roberto Canducci

Copyright © 2018 Roberto Canducci

www.RobertoCanducci.com

Author: Roberto Canducci

Editor: Cecelia Ngozi

All rights reserved.

You may have missed a bus, or somebody cancelled a scheduled meeting.

You may have just not greeted someone on the street, or intentionally not pick up the phone.

You may have pushed someone by accident, or your car broke at the most inconvenient time.

Do you think these things are insignificant in life and do not mean anything? What if it is just the opposite?

What if life consists of seemingly insignificant things?

PREFACE

We see only what we focus on.

Although what we don´t focus on can change our lives.

Six people. Six stories. And all of them strongly connected.

An owner of a newspaper stall, who is drowning in troubles.

A millionaire who has it all but the one thing he wants the most.

A careerist with a dilemma.

A womanizer who only looks at the world through money and sex.

An overweight publisher looking for a bestseller.

A young widow trying to save her son´s life.

Can these lives be connected as they are happening in different places all around the world?

What if they can't exist without each other?

Is everyone looking for their own Goodpoint?

JIM THOMPSON

The New York Metro was pretty full that Monday morning. The Brooklyn Subway was just quickly advancing over Battery Park to the next stop, Bowling Green. Jim was travelling for only 9 minutes when the subway stopped with squeaks. The door opened and people of different ages, styles, and perhaps, of every possible world nationality, began to flock to the subway. Jim has been seeing this scene repeatedly for several years, almost every day. His journey to work begin every day with his departure from his small rented flat at St. Marks Ave in Brooklyn, where he lives with his wife and two children. From there, he walks to the Atlantic Terminal subway station, where he gets on line 5.

Every morning before he enters the subway, he buys a takeaway coffee in the nearby stall. Thanks to the great New York subway transport, he is at his stall Goodpoint on 1st Avenue in 40 minutes. Even though there were a lot of free seats around him, he would always stand. This Monday morning, there were a bit more people coming into the subway than usual, and a young couple crowded at Jim´s back. Just like everyone who did not have the luck of having earphones with their favourite music on, Jim could not do anything, and he was forced to witness their conversation.

Are you crazy? I´m 23 years old. I don´t need such things. Besides, I've been here for less than a year! With an angry tone, the young woman hinted to a man in a black coat her disapproval of something Jim and the other fellow travellers were about to learn in a few seconds.

Elizabeth, I thought what we talked about yesterday was serious. A man said, sadly, as if he did not want to believe what he was hearing. Hmm. Elisabeth, a very interesting royal name, Jim instantly connected her name with the English Queen Elizabeth.

I meant it, Thorton, really, but realize I'm 23 years old, and I'm really not ready for a wedding. It seems to me like you rounded the bell. You aren´t financially secure, you are just a messenger in the paper, and you tell me you want to marry me, and you'll take care of everything? Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, rolled her eyes and turned her head away from the shocked man's gaze.

But why did you say -- The man did not finish the sentence. I thought you meant a couple of years. Not the next week, the girl interrupted with a sharp tone. In two weeks, I will be leaving for home! Have you forgotten that? The girl hit her forehead and nervously wiped it off.

Jim started feeling a little embarrassed. He did not want to be part of this conversation, and at that moment, he decided to buy an iPod for the future. Moreover, even though he was swirling back to the couple, he saw everything in the reflection of the subway window before him.

I didn´t forget, but I thought -- The man did not finish the sentence again because the girl interrupted him once more.

I thought, I thought, she said out loud. It seems to me that you haven´t been thinking for a long time! And I do not understand why we're still talking about this! Elizabeth looked really angry. The man, on the other hand, looked calm but very surprised. The redness that sprang to his face didn't hide even under his stubble.

Elizabeth, you ... just startled me, he said, trying to talk his way to her in a quiet and calm voice. Didn´t you say against everything we feel good together, and you've told me I'm the only guy you want to be with.

Thorton, listen to me one last time. The whole carriage with a loud noise began to slow down, causing the couple to push on Jim even more. I'm not marrying you! I'm going home in a few weeks, and I´m not coming back to America. I thought you were reasonable and understood what I said, but obviously, I must tell you in the American way and not in the polite language of a Londoner. It´s over! I no longer want to be with you! Don´t contact me anymore! Erase my number, and fingers crossed, you will pick an American in two weeks for whom this will be normal! Elizabeth expressed her feelings in a threatening tone. Initially, she seemed to be trying to whisper, but suddenly, it moved from whispering to an angry cry. The carriage stopped suddenly, and the voice of the subway joined the shrewd pursuit of a man and a girl.

Union Square. A woman's voice spoke from the subway speakers, and the door opened.

I´m off here! Bye! The girl's angry voice burst at the man. Elizabeth wait, two more stops. He screamed at her but from the distance, all that was heard was only a loud, don´t follow me! The man remained where he was, clearly shocked. There was a great deal of surprise and frustration on his face. The crowd that had run into the subway forced him to move. In a moment, the metro door closed, and the metal snake snapped down in the underground to the next stop. It is true that in New York, such public fights were not uncommon, but it was a bit uncomfortable, and those who had the honour of hearing the interview were silent and pretended nothing got to their ears. Jim got off at his usual stop at the corner of 33rd Street and Park Avenue. When he walked up the stairs from the subway station to the street still sleeping, the early morning New York air cooled him. Deep breathing. At six o'clock in the morning, the city was already alive, but still not in full swing. The trucks were still running through the streets, the city's staff were cleaning the road, and the contours of the city were supplemented by billboards all around and always present. In many buildings, there were lights on already. It looked like the city that never sleeps actually may nap for a while, from time to time.

Jim was very glad he could finally get off the subway. He usually took this trip as a daily routine, but he couldn't stop thinking of the couple who had just split up a little while ago. He felt like being somehow connected to it, though it could not be true. But it certainly reminded him of one of the recent quarrels with his wife, Taria.

Hello, Jim! He heard from the distance the call of a big black man. Save me, please, a copy of the Times today.

Sure Teo, No problem! Jim yelled with a feigned smile while waving at Teo.

As he walked to his stall, various negative thoughts began to swirl in his head. He and his wife were crowded in a small apartment, and he knew she wanted to live in a better neighbourhood and a bigger flat. Of course, his wife, Taria, was a tolerant and smiling woman full of energy, but from time to time, Jim found her at home with her eyes red from crying. He had tried to ask her why she cried but was afraid to learn something unpleasant. A few months ago, however, Taria told Jim what it was all about in her weak moments. From that moment on, he could not stop thinking, and today's conversation of the young couple in the subway reminded him of it. However, he tried not to go to work with negative ideas because he knew that those would also negatively affect his business.

His stall, Goodpoint, was placed on the corner of 33 Street and 1st avenue in Kips Bay, Manhattan. It was a very good location because opposite to the stall is a huge medical complex of the New York University Langone Medical Center, which is, according to statistics, one of the best hospitals in New York. Next to his stall, just a few steps away from it, there is a large publishing house, Coltmann Books Publishing, which is housed in a pretty 27-storey building. The stall felt like an ant between these giants, trying to escape the human shoes before being stepped on. Every day, a lot of people walk past the stall, and that is why it was really a great strategic position for Jim. Especially taxi drivers waiting for patients, turned out to be good customers. Hospital staff who went out to buy their favourite magazine or people who came to buy various magazines for their loved ones who were in the hospital because of some injuries or illnesses. Neither passers-by nor people from the Coltmann Book's who came for takeaway coffee every morning were bad customers, too.

Goodpoint is a small rectangular-shaped stall with a little roof that served as a lockable door. When the stall is closed, it looks like an ordinary iron advertising booth, but when open, it is all blurred. There are electric candles around the stall, trying to shout that this is not just a stand with magazines. The open door of the booth is full of magazines. The whole centre of it is filled with the newspapers that are usually sold out the first. Even in the booth, they offered fresh takeaway coffee. Coffee, to a certain extent, functioned as an advertisement because its aroma spread to nearby surroundings, and the passers-by couldn´t resist. Especially during the winter. Recently, Jim decided that because of his position, he would change the model. He chose to offer only certain magazines and to add to his offer selected books on which he had a higher margin, and which were bought mainly by the people from the hospital across the street. They were so-called bookshots.

These were books with a price below $5 and a very brief and direct story. It was clear to him that he could not compete with bookshops or cafes where people could sit and enjoy reading their magazine or book, but he could at least get a little higher profits and probably less work. The books have rarely being bought by people, but thanks to a higher margin, he earned more. He, therefore, specialized in newspapers, books bookshots, and selling takeaway coffee. A friend of his, Roland, often came to help at the stall. They have been inseparable friends since they ran away from school one day together and tried to smoke cigarettes. None of them however kept this habit.

Good morning, Roland! Yelled Jim from a distance at his friend who was just opening the stall.

Hey, sleepyhead, just in time! His co-worker replied sarcastically.

Long night...

We all have that, buddy. Which kid didn´t want to sleep? Roland asked with a sigh.

Taria, Jim answered with a laugh.

At that moment, Roland started laughing his head off. His perplexing laughter spread across the street that was just waking up.

Then I put an imaginary hat down, sir. He said with a gesture suggesting his captain hat, and bowed to Jim.

Roland was a big two-meter-tall guy who could barely just fit into the stall. That's why he liked to stand outside of it and pass coffee to people or their favourite prints. Sometimes, when they just didn´t have any customers, he would wear a huge newspaper glider and try to attract people to the stall or at least make the passers-by notice the booth. With his height, weight, and a manly, dull voice, it was impossible to overlook him. However, he was often enough silenced by the hospital security officer, because patients who heard his shouts, Buy coffee and read your favourite newspaper from Goodpoint! Or, have you bought a newspaper today? could not stand it, and complained.

But Roland didn´t care. When he couldn´t use his voice, he at least used his size. And that was really impossible to be overlooked. Roland was in charge of being in the booth every morning when new goods arrived. He did this consciously, and in his words, this work was very much fun. He was glad to know he could spend the day there and not have to worry about some stupid boss from whom he would have to ask permission even for going to the toilet.

Jim put his bag on a table in the stand and took out the mail he had found in the mailbox this morning. There were notices about unpaid bills and a long-awaited letter from the city. Jim stared at the unopened envelope and took a deep breath. Roland noticed it. Fingers crossed, mate. He mumbled through his teeth and stared at the envelope. Once again, Jim opened his mouth and opened the envelope. There was a sheet in it. Brief. There was a text that Jim feared about the most:

An application for the reduction of rent of stall at the corner of 33 Street and 1st Avenue is rejected.

Further, the letter continued with standard main features such as the description of the site, and the statement that the city had no relevant reason to reduce the rent.

So, buddy? Roland asked eagerly.

Read it yourself. He threw the open letter on the table, stood up from the chair, and walked out in front of the stall to unload the banner.

Roland came silently out of the booth, trying to comfort Jim because he was so disappointed.

Buddy--

No, you don´t have to comfort me. I'm an adult. I can accept things without anyone’s shoulder. Jim spoke to him. It always works out somehow. I´ll think of something.

That´s a good attitude, Jimbo. Roland encouraged his enthusiasm. But I didn´t mean to comfort you; actually, I just wanted to tell you to make me a coffee. He mumbled with a humorous grin, trying to ease the situation. I´ll ask you for a strong one. He shouted.

I'll ask for 10 bucks in return. Jim smiled as he adjusted the advertising banner to make it stand right.

You think you don´t have a stall but a restaurant, don´t you? If you didn´t tell me to stop touching the coffee machine, I'd make the coffee myself. Roland remarked, dressing up in a huge newspaper banner.

If I allowed you to touch the coffee machine, I wouldn´t sell coffee, because there would be none left. He responded quickly.

Roland was well-known for his huge coffee consumption. Actually, I'm doing you a favour, Jim added. If you could make your coffee here, it would undoubtedly have caused you a heart attack a long time ago.

That's what I'm trying to do here. Jim sighed, watching the two-meter-long figure from inside the stall, dressed in a giant newspaper-shaped banner walking down the street.

Mondays were always busy at Goodpoint. People needed to wake up properly after the weekend; for that, takeaway coffee was good, which is constantly a hot commodity at Goodpoint these mornings. The inhabitants of the Big Apple were always curious about what happened during the weekend, so not only coffee, but also, daily newspapers sold a lot.

So, Jimbo, what´s up? Asked a man in the coat, whom, as he spoke, steam came out of his mouth.

What do I get if I complain, Nick? Jim answered with a grin. The daily menu? He added, reaching for an empty cup that he was about to fill with coffee.

Of course, Jim. You know me better than my own wife. The smiling customer added with a smirk.

Jim had everything rehearsed and perfectly harmonized. With one hand, he placed the empty cup under the coffee machine and with the other one, he picked the Wall Street Journal which belonged to the customer's daily menu.

Then am I entitled to half of your property? Jim asked him, giggling, with a newspaper and a cup full of hot and scented coffee. At that moment, the customer started laughing, grabbed his purchase and put the money into Jim's hand.

You always know how to make my day, Jimbo. The customer chuckled while leaving.

See you tomorrow, Nick! He yelled and noticed how the customer turned and lifted the coffee cup from a distance as the hint of consent.

That was one of Jim's qualities. He always knew how to manage with customers, and people really liked him. It was one of the main reasons why people preferred him and not the cafés that were at every corner in New York. Still, it wasn´t enough. The city which was constantly raising the cost of renting the sidewalks had Jim and his booth clinging to bankruptcy at an inexorable rate, even though he tried very hard. He worked hard. He wakes up at about five o'clock in the morning to open at six and be ready for the first workers walking around his stall. Without Roland, who would be in the booth since four in the morning when the goods were usually coming, especially in the form of daily newspapers, he would´ve had to close the booth. He often wondered how he could change the business model so he can have higher profits. He had no ideas. Bankruptcy would be a great personal loss to him. And that was not all. He would have to get employed.

Jim didn´t mind diligence. His dream, however, was to build a prosperous and successful business that he could sell one day. He was playing with the idea of developing his own franchise. This would, in essence, mean that he would sell licenses for his own know-how. To do this, Jim needed to build a successful business that he could copy and sell as a franchise. But as time went by, the years of youth entrepreneurial enthusiasm became a struggle for survival.

It's been 11 years since Jim opened the Goodpoint stall. Once he could afford to, he moved his stall to Manhattan from Brooklyn, where his booth had since been located. After the arrival of the first child 8 years ago, it seemed to Jim that everything was in the best order. With the second child, he thought he could handle it that year and manage to come through with his plan. That was five years ago. Today, at the threshold of the fourth decade of his life, he was becoming more and more aware that his train had already left. Against all circumstances, he did not give up. His main characteristic is undoubtedly endurance. But he has been slowly losing it too. The deteriorating conditions in his business changed his terms and conditions at home.

Taria wished to have more rooms for herself and the children. She wanted to get out of Brooklyn and move to a flat or a house that would give them more space than they had now. Jim could not blame her. They lived in a typical New York house, which was divided into two dwellings. For them, there was less than 60m², which is really small for a four-member family. However, the problem was not just the small space. Reminders of unpaid bills have been in amount on the table as a common family´s rubbish in the bin. Jim's wife took half shifts in the clothing store owned by her friend, but this money wasn´t enough to cover all debts. That was the reason why Taria, a beautiful and young 29-year-old woman, became a busy, troubled and tired mother of two young children every evening. It was her who could no longer handle this situation and persuaded Jim to get employed and have a regular income. For Jim, the job meant a personal loss. For Taria, employment was a prospect for a better and, above all, more stable life.

Please, Roland said. I'll rather go to work; you should do the same.

You aren´t home all day long! You leave early in the morning when the children are still sleeping and come late at night when they are already or just falling asleep! Taria screamed at him through tearful eyes in such a weak moment. Not even your own kids really know you! Do you realize that at all? She asked, but didn't expect an answer.

Tari, honey ... you know I'm trying. It's not that simple, but I´m doing it for us. I'm just not an employee.

But you probably aren´t a businessman either. Taria interrupted him harshly as she was pulling out a cloth to wipe her tears away from her cheeks at that moment.

Jim stood silently, sadly looking at his weary wife. Then he lowered his eyes.

You're probably right. Maybe I am beating a dead horse, but I do it for the sole purpose of providing us with a quality life. I can't do it. I just can't work for someone else. Jim said, sadly but resolutely.

Honey... his upset wife slowly moved closer to him and grabbed his chin with one hand. If you want to secure a better and quality life for us, get rid of the stall because that's why we are the way we are. And I really don't know how long I can bear this. After finishing this sentence, she looked at him for a moment with a sad gaze. Then she lowered her eyes, caressed his cheek, turned and went to the bedroom and closed the door after her. Jim didn´t need more. He felt like someone just told him he was the most incompetent man in the world. This was definitely not the kind of motivation he expected. But he didn´t blame her either. This wasn´t the same Taria who he had been able to talk to on the green lawn in Central Park where they met, but he wasn´t the motivated young boy who dreamed of having a large apartment in Manhattan at the age of forty and a private summer residence in Miami either. That night, when that quarrel took place, he realized for the first time in their relationship that he might lose her. It was the moment when a man closes himself up and looks for where the mistake happened. If they had no children, it might've been different. Taria, however, was particularly worried about the family. She just wanted it to work, and especially to take care of the kids. Every woman at this point in a relationship wants a single thing from the man - security. And it's just that from that moment, Jim stopped giving them this security. Every man knows that when he stops giving the woman a feeling of security, it is just a matter of time for when the relationship fails. Jim did not want to believe that it could happen to them. And yet it was happening. It was like a trance.

All night, he was sitting on the couch, staring somewhere in the darkness; he tried to sort out his troubled life, at least in his mind. He woke up only from the sound of the truck was stopping from behind the windows. He looked at his watch, which reported half past three in the morning. He had about an hour to get up to the winter December