Lenny returned to work and found no inspiration. He felt as if there was something important for him to do, something that involved more than drawings for his clients. In his possession was something special, and he was wasting it on drawing cartoon characters to push products. He lasted in his office only fifteen minutes before he decided he needed some fresh air. Jake stopped him before he left the office.

“Going somewhere, big guy?” Jake said. He wore his usually Tuesday suit, a blue satiny three button suit with an orange and red vest. His tie was colored to match the blue suit, and his face was freshly shaved. Lenny could not remember the last time he shaved.

“I just needed some fresh air,” Lenny said.

“You’re looking a little ragged. Are you taking care of yourself well enough?” Jake said.

“I’m getting by. It’s just been tough with everything going on,” Lenny said.

“I see that. Listen, Lenny. We need to talk. Do you mind if we stop by my office before you head out?” Jake said.

Jake’s face was studied and calm, almost locked into place. Lenny shrugged and followed Jake to his office. His office was larger than Lenny’s, with a small conference table near the entrance. It was decorated with replicas of sculptures on every surface. Jake had always dreamed of being a sculptor. Lenny never understood why Jake sold out and went into commercial art. When Jake was a freshman in college, his professors raved about his talents, sure that he would revolutionize modern sculpture. Jake returned to the basics, learning to carve rocks and scoffed at modern sculptures. During his junior year, he gave up on sculpting, never explaining to anyone his reasons. As Lenny studied the sculptures, the reason became apparent to him. Jake had feared success. His professors had such high expectations of him that he knew he could never meet. He never trusted in his ability to change the world. He loved sculpting but he knew he would never be able to stand up to the people who tried to change how he did it. Even in college, his professors pushed him in a direction that he did not believe in. After approaching their skills, he tried to push off in a new direction, and was held back by his professor’s conservative beliefs.

Lenny understood more of Jake’s past. He saw a meeting between Jake and the chairman of the art department. The chairman had given Jake an ultimatum. He was either to work with his professors and sculpt as they wanted him to sculpt, or leave the department. Experimentation, he had told Jake, was not for college. After leaving the meeting, Jake made the decision to switch majors to a more commercially accepted art form. He did not think he would be able to stand up to the professors and the art critics and explain his sculpting. It was too personal for him to share with them. Instead, he put his energies and talents into commercial art and cultivating clients. Since that decision, he had not sculpted. Lenny thought back to all the times he had kid Jake about switching majors. Lenny taught Jake the proper techniques for illustration—Jake never having focused on that art form before. Before now, Lenny never understood the sacrifice Jake made and how it changed him as a person. How he sacrificed his art because of his fears and entered the commercial realm where what was acceptable was what the masses would enjoy. Jake chose mass acceptance over personal acceptance. For the first time, Lenny felt that he understood Jake.

“Lenny?” Jake said. Lenny stood at the doorway to Jake’s office with Jake’s large hand on his shoulder. Jake was shaking him gently.

“I’m sorry. What did you say? I was just thinking about your sculptures,” Lenny said.

“Those old things? Not much to think about. They’re all replicas,” Jake said, laughing and dismissively waving his hand.

“During college, didn’t you have replicas of some unpopular sculptures from the 17th century? I forget the artist,” Lenny said.

“Ah. You do have a good memory for some things, Lenny. It was Art Rochesco of Italy. He worked in marble and sculpted busts with exaggerated features and figures. He was never accepted in his time, or for that matter, even today. Nobody understood his figures because they were ugly and didn’t raise an emotional reaction in many people,” Jake said.

“Why did you have his sculptures then?” Lenny said.

“I don’t remember. His work reminded me of what I was searching for in my sculpting. But it was all silly, I eventually discovered. Art is what the people want, and people don’t want hard to understand figures. They want entertaining and easily decipherable figures. They want to look at a media, like illustrations on a billboard, and get the joke right away—the more levels the joke falls out on, the happier everyone becomes. What brings up this conversation?” Jake said.

“I was just thinking,” Lenny said. He left it at that. Lenny was not sure if Jake understood the choice he made. Lenny thought it might be cowardice, but he felt that he did not have the right to judge Jake. Lenny decided on commercial art before even enrolling in college. He knew he wanted to work on advertisements and study the use of art to sell products. He never liked art for the sake of art. But now that he had grown older and seen more of the world, he began wondering if he missed out, never understanding the emotional connection that art provided. The closest he got to that understanding was manipulating the emotions of the consumers.

“You’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, Lenny. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I heard back from Mr. R*, he’s not happy about your proposal,” Jake said.

“I know, I know, Jake. I thought about it all day yesterday and yesterday evening. I wasn’t satisfied with what I gave him either,” Lenny said.

“How is your aunt doing?” Jake said. Lenny was surprised by the change in topic.

“She’s the same. I visited her last night,” Lenny said.

“Did Samantha go with you?” Jake said.

“No. She stayed home last night. We’re supposed to go out tomorrow night with you and Tommy. We’re still on, I hope,” Lenny said.

“I really liked your aunt. She had a real spark, especially for an older person.

“Yeah. The doctors still have hope that she’s going to snap out of it. I can’t wait to see her reaction when I tell her what she’s been like for the past few weeks,” Lenny said.

“Lenny, Mr. R* cancelled his contract with us,” Jake said.

Lenny was surprised, but realized he should not have been. He knew that Mr. R* had visited Jake’s office to discuss the cancellation. They discussed something else in the office, but he was not sure what. Before he even sent off the proposal, he knew that Mr. R* would not be satisfied. At the time, Lenny thought that Mr. R* would not be satisfied, but he did not feel up to finishing the work. He could summon no more energy to worry about the project. Lenny backed up his thought to remember a part of what happened in Jake’s office. They discussed something else, but Lenny was not sure what.

“I’m sorry about that, Jake. It happens. We can’t hit a homerun every time,” Lenny said.

“No. And we’ve been striking out quite a bit lately. Even before your aunt fell ill, you were slowing down, Lenny. You don’t seem to have the same energy as before. Now, you’re beginning to look terrible. You’ve lost weight, you wear the same clothing every day, I don’t understand what is happening to you,” Jake said.

“It’s been rough on me. I’ll get back into it,” Lenny said.

Jake was quiet for a few minutes. He leaned against the front of his desk, his large rear-end cut in two by the sharp edge. “Lenny, I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I’ve decided to buy out your interest,” Jake said.

“What do you mean,” Lenny said.

“I’ve spoken to the lawyers, and they said that our partnership agreement allows one partner to buy out the other at a set rate. I make an offer, and you either accept that offer, or you buy me out at that amount. That’s what the agreement says. I’ve given this a lot of thought, and this is how it has to be. I hate to do this to you, especially with everything you’re going through, but Mr. R* is not the only client that has complained about your work over the past few months,” Jake said.

The names of the other clients that had complained to Jake secretly flashed through Lenny’s mind. The list included almost every one of his clients. He did not know that his work had been that bad for the past few months. Before his aunt fell sick, he thought he was finally reaching a point in his professional career where he could coast. His work, he thought, had been good. And then he knew. He saw the meetings Charlie had with his clients. He saw how Charlie raised doubts in his client’s minds, how he attempted to undermine their confidence in his work. Charlie had done it in the hopes of taking the clients with him when he left, but the only one it benefited was Jake. “What are you offering?” Lenny said.

“Not much I’m afraid, my friend. Except for the lease, there’s not much left in the partnership,” Jake said.

“And I assume you’ve spoken to all the clients already,” Lenny said.

“Yes, Lenny. And I didn’t approach them about this. They approached me. They gave me an ultimatum, it was either you or them,” Jake said.

“What’s your definition of ‘not much’,” Lenny said.

“I’ll give you $20,000 for your share in the business, and I’ll cancel any debts you have to the partnership. You’ll share the profits through the end of the year, but after that you’ll no longer be a partner in the business,” Jake said.

Lenny nodded. He felt cold and warm, the sweater itching terribly. He left Jake’s office and the building and made his way to the car. He did not understand it. He thought he knew what was going on. He thought the sweater was providing insight and helping him make the right decisions. It seemed to be doing neither. He did not see this coming and thought everything was fine with the business. Even with the full knowledge of his client’s complaints, their meetings with Jake, Charlie’s discussions with his clients, all of it, there was nothing he could do about it. Lenny felt trapped.

He entered his car and revved the engine. He thought about calling Samantha—he definitely needed someone to help calm he down now. But he could not bear to tell her what happened. This was who he was. He thought about calling his clients, trying to convince them of the mistake they were making, but he knew, in that way he knows about so much these days, that they would not appreciate the call. He had burned his bridges with them, and it was too late to go back.

Lenny needed someone to talk to. Someone he could discuss what was happening to him. There was nobody he could trust, however. He did not think Samantha would understand. She had been there for him, but much of her respect was in everything Lenny accomplished. How could he tell her that his business was collapsing around him? The only person he could think of that would understand was his aunt, and she was in no condition to give him advice. But it was not advice that he needed. He just needed someone to talk to. He needed to hear his own voice and understand what was going on. He turned onto the highway and headed to the hospital. His aunt could not judge him in the state she was in. Lenny was disgusted with his thought, but he often was when he was honest with himself.

Word count: 2,048

Words left: 26,019

Caffeination: Tall mocha

Feeling: Accepting.