Pieces of You (9 page)

Rooted to the hospital bed, Mark wished with all his being that he could make contact with Martin. He could never tire of studying his son; drinking in all the little details of his body and facial features, even the tear stains.

Mark suspected that his own parents had gazed at him in much the same way when the Navy had flown them to his bedside at the Naval Hospital in Okinawa.

He remembered nothing of his first weeks in the hospital and retained only fragmentary memories from most of his parents’ visit. The nurses had later told him that his mother spent her time sitting beside his bed for the greater part of every day, just as Martin seemed to be doing forty years later.

His parents hadn’t been allowed to visit him at all during the first three weeks of his recovery
. A
shortage of antibiotics at the makeshift base clinic where he had been operated upon
made him a high risk for infection
. Even after he had been transferred to Okinawa, an infection had initially threatened Mark’s life.

After their visit, his mother had written to him that when his dad, a relatively unemotional man, had first seen him all taped up and with tubes everywhere, he had cried like a baby. That was a scene Mark had never been able to envision; it was so unlike the dad he knew and loved.

Remembering, Mark wondered how he had made it through those dark days after his parents returned to Chicago.

He was certain that without the friends he had met in the hospital, including Peggy, the pretty nurse who several years later became his wife
,
he would have given up his fight to live.

What he recalled from that time was wrenching agony offset only by visions that were so revolting that the return of pain was almost a relief.

The friends from that period were friends still. Even Peggy had remained a friend after their divorce.

In spite of the bond of shared horror, or maybe because of it, they never shared war stories. Mark had extended that rule to his family. No one knew what he had done, or had been through, in Vietnam. Maybe that was why it felt like some of the weight of the world was lifted when he had unloaded those memories onto Bob.

Now, Mark dearly wanted to share some of his stories with Martin; he no longer feared being exposed and wanted his son to really know him, to understand both the good and the ugly in his
d
ad.

Mark was certain that this would change the father-son relationship; maybe they’d become
more like
best friends. Even if some of the revelations came as a shock to Martin, he knew that his son had become a man under his watch and would always love him.

Some day he might share all but the worst of his war experiences with Janie too; once he was certain that she could handle it. He wanted to begin telling Martin right away though.

Using his only functional organ of communication, he tried to gain his son’s attention with his eyes but, suddenly, Zachri was there again, blocking his view of Martin and ripp
ing
his attention away from him.

“Lying here in body and spirit is not the best use of your time. I’m guiding you, at once, on a second journey.

“
After your tour of duty in Vietnam, this destination was the next most critical point in your life.”

‘Now where, and when, could this be?’ Mark wondered. ‘My wedding day; the day I caught my wife with her lover; the birth of my son; the back-to-back deaths of my parents?’ It would turn out to be conspicuously unlike any of those events.

***

Experiencing the jolting sensation of being jarred awake in the middle of a peaceful dream, Mark found himself peering through what seemed to be a telescopic lens into a strangely familiar room.

Crowding the room, black leather chairs surrounded a rectangular, highly-polished conference table; a matching credenza, covered with neat stacks of papers, stood against the far wall. Seated in the chairs were one young woman and seventeen expensively-suited men who, judging by their somber demeanor and conservative hair-cuts might be taken for bankers or politicians. In fact, all were bankers and some of them were politicians as well.

It dawned on Mark that this was the same conference room where he, as a young loan officer, had so often attended staff meetings. As his eyes swept the room he recognized his colleagues of nearly thirty years earlier. One man in particular caused him to do a double-take.

In the seat between the only young woman present and the departmental manager was a young man who looked precisely like Mark during the early years of his first civilian job. The sight of this younger version of himself confounded him and his bafflement was tinged with fear. Turning toward Zachri, he blurted out a question.

“Is that me? How can I be over there at the same time as being here with you, observing this scene?”

“I told you that you’d be given supernatural abilities. In a minute, you’ll be stepping into your former self and will no longer be aware of us
—
until you consciously seek divine guidance.”

“Why would I do that? I really can’t remember ever asking anyone to do anything for me that I could do myself.”

“Do you remember the time when Martin was terribly sick, shortly after you moved from New Mexico to Singapore? When you thought he had SARS, you certainly seemed to have an instinctive sense of how to ask for divine help.”

“Thanks for reminding me of that awful time!”

As
Mark
turned
away from Zachri
for another look
,
he was no longer
aware of his later self and Zachri observing the scene
; instead, he
was fully immersed in proceedings around the table.

***

“So how are we going to take advantage of the Economic Recovery Tax Act?”  Jim, the commercial loan department manager for the entire southwest region, was asking. The collective scowling expressions showed the group’s opposition to being present but the meeting notice had made it clear that something major was coming down.

“As a few of you may have figured out already
,
we are now legally empowered to increase the amount we may lend to any single business client and, since construction is rampant in our market area, we are in an excellent position to finance some major projects.

“To give you a clearer picture of the potential, I have asked our legal department to analyze the legislative changes, especially on office and retail market conditions. Gina has just arrived from corporate to present their findings. Gina?”

As she neared the podium, those who were familiar with her previous presentations took up their pens and began doodling; a more creative pastime than taking notes. Their theory was that Gina’s primary purpose was to impress, rather than to inform, and experience had never disproved it.

“Thank you, Jim. Colleagues, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for alert, aggressive bankers
. T
he Act has changed the depreciation rules for commercial real estate, allowing investors in commercial property to depreciate a building over fifteen years instead of forty.” Gina was in her element, lecturing a roomful of men.

“Moreover, the Accelerated Cost Recovery System permits…”

Mark, having drifted off, was nudged back to consciousness just in time to hear Gina intone
:
“…a phenomenal opportunity for our bank to heavily market commercial real estate loans.”

Jim jumped in.

“Let me point out that highly respected economists are predicting the demand for commercial space
—
office, retail and industrial
—
will remain strong. Business journals and national news media are forecasting a continued construction boom throughout the decade. With loan demand exceptionally high and the Savings & Loan Associations eager to build loan portfolios, I propose we act aggressively. Any questions so far?”

Jake, the senior member of this group, responded.

“How aggressive, Jim? I’ve seen boom and bust cycles in real estate
. I
t makes me wonder if there is good reason to be cautious about chasing commercial real estate loans, even if they’re now legal.”
             

Jim’s answer was an obvious ploy to deter discussion. “Now, Jake, I’ve not heard of you being cautious about chasing the ladies, even though that’s a genuinely high risk venture.”

Jake seemed only slightly embarrassed as the room erupted in laughter; it was a distraction welcomed by everyone. For the past few minutes, tension around the table had been rising, edging toward the consistency of oatmeal but without lumps. They all knew the lumps would soon appear if goals weren’t established.

Having allowed the laughter to subside, Jim got to the point of the meeting.

“You’ve heard why we can be the market leader in commercial real estate lending and seated around this table is the group to make it happen
…
with a little incentive
.
A bonus plan is almost ready for CEO approval and I’ve heard it could make a sizable number of your dreams come true.” His gaze swept around the table.

“So, team, how far can we go? I want you to give me your best estimate of how much more of the market we can capture. Can any of you envision increasing our commercial real estate portfolio by, say, fifty percent?”

An audible gasp was the only response for what seemed to be
an
interminable moment; the kind during which a new nation is born while nobody’s looking.  Incredulousness was clearly visible in every face fixed on Jim’s. Then one hand went up.

“Yes, Mark.”

“If we add that many loans
—a
nd your suggestion amounts to adding over thirteen million dollars to our loan portfolio
—
how do
we
preserve the bank’s stability? Won’t we be greatly undercapitalized?”

“Isn’t the more pressing question: Will current customers and new businesses continue to choose our bank over the additional competition?’ Relax, Mark, we aren’t changing our policy on collateral. We’ll still use our pool of experienced appraisers to confirm real estate value and we’ll still expect most of our borrowers to have a twenty-five percent down payment.” Jim’s smile bordered on the patronizing.

“Deregulation is a win-win situation. We approve more loans by making cash flow projections more elastic; our customers make more money investing in real estate. They grow their businesses and add workers
;
those fatter paychecks fuel a stronger economy; local prosperity is ignited by our loans and secured by the best collateral: real estate. Does that ease your mind Mark?”

Mark gave a quick nod, well aware that any more of what might be interpreted as objections would not be received favorably, especially from someone lacking seniority. Jim continued.

“Gentlemen and Denise, I’m not going to play the authoritarian manager, that’s not my style; I want you to tell me what you’re capable of. To make this an impartial decision, I’m asking each of you to write a number on a piece of paper. Include a brief rationale of why you think this is a feasible goal and then send it to me through interoffice mail within the next forty-eight hours—that makes the deadline Thursday at seven p.m.

“While doing your own estimates of market potential, please use our regulatory gurus, especially Gina. Once we calculate your responses, you’ll be the first to be notified of the results. A close second will be the public; I’m betting this will blow the socks off our stockholders!  I know you won’t disappoint me
.
A
ny
more questions?” 

The silence was almost deafening, but no one broke it. As they left the room, two of Mark’s colleagues, those he would most nearly rank as friends, fell in line behind him.

Steve, the younger of the two, had been a commercial loan officer for seven years and had the reputation of being something of a maverick. Consistently achieving a sales record in the top ten percent kept him off the list of ‘those who don’t conform and therefore must go.’

His dark good looks and finely-tuned communication skills certainly contributed to his success but Steve’s greatest strength was his effervescent personality. Mark had once said he thought the term charming was created with Steve as the standard but, under duress, had amended the statement to put him just behind JFK.

“Hey, buddy.” Steve said.

“What you showed in there was either tremendous courage or unbelievable stupidity. I’m certainly not saying your question wasn’t valid but, even as new as you are, you must know that Jim doesn’t take kindly to having the merits of his plans questioned or his proposals rejected. I’d really miss you if you were ousted!”

Denise, the
newest and
youngest member of the team and the only other person Mark trusted in the whole department, appeared unnerved.