Casual Days

“Are you Dr. Bob?”

“Who wants to know!” Bob said storming away from Pitt in the bathroom, wiping his hands with a towel. He throws it in the bin from a distance and it falls on the ground. His sleek black suit, white shirt, and a black and white tie, striped, suspended under his neck hanging to his groin. Well shaven and tall.

Pitt is left standing, in his large convex spectacles, in casual wear, shaggy hair, and a bag pack. His football jacket oversized and sneakers. Staring at the towel on the floor.

“I am Pitt, I analyze data. This is my first day in this building, where Forex trading takes place, and I was hired to come and conduct research for them by my other boss, who is shutting down his business because of a merger. I am lucky I still have a job.” He walks slowly and picks up the towel and throws it in the bin. He turns back and steadily washes his hands.

Joe walked into the bathroom and found Bob heading out. They both walk along in the hallway, discussing sometime. Joe overexcited and in a suit without the coat. His folded shirt and enthusiastic voice. Relatively shorter than Bob. Taller than Pitt.

“So, do not worry about the reception in this place. They are horrible at accepting new people.” Joe told Pitt, who was grinning in agreement.

“Even the boss?” Pitt asked, his hands tightened on the bag, looking up at Joe.

“That is for you to judge,” Joe said as they entered the office. The door read, Dr. Bob Mapesa. Pitt read it,” The director and the founder?” Pitt read it out loud. “There is a lot about him than that!” Joe said and walked in.

“How many times do I have to remind you Joe….my office is not a tennis court you can just walk into and start shaking your balls in it!” Bob blurted out, sitting and looking into what seems like very important business.

“It’s ...it is the guy…the one I told you about…” Joe said, fidgeting stealthily.

Pitt walks in. Bob stands. Bob stares straight into his eyes. And disgust is detected in his face.” Are you the guy from the bathroom?” When Bob shouted out Joe was surprised. “What?” Joe exclaimed.

“Yeah, and you left the towel on the floor,” Pitt said walking past Joe, who was already lost in the dual dialogue. “I guess we already got acquainted here,” Joe said, trying to calm them down.

“SHUT UP JOE! And get out!” Bob told Joe, who acted immediately and turned away. Pitt looked back and they shared a last glance as Joe sadly went out, sympathetic, Pitt saw the sign of encouragement in his eyes. “You can do it, Champ!” Pitt heard Joe’s voice in his head as he pushed the door against the locks, they clicked, the door shut. Bob cleared his throat, walking slowly towards Pitt. Pitt fearlessly looks back. Bob came closer that he made sure that he was looking down on the new guy physically, Bob's breathe on his forehead. Pitt felt like a tower was laying its shadows on him, he swallowed some saliva and opened his mouth.

“I am Pitt, the analyst.” He stretches his hands to shake Bob’s hand. Pitt waits for him to shake his hand, but the prominent man did not move a muscle. He frowns over Pitt’s face.

“Where did think you were going when you first left your house this morning?” Bob asked, trying to remain calm.

“Well…” He returns his hands to his pocket, “I knew I was coming to meet a man called Dr. Bob.” Pitt answered confidently.

“The man you are looking for does not have time for a junky,” Bob says moving back to his chair. Pitt stands motionlessly and feeling insulted.

“Sorry, what was that?” Pitt asks Bob who was then comfortably sitting, and now Pitt looking down on him.

“I was not expecting a JUNKY! You are too old for those sneakers and jumpsuits!” Bob says, grinning unbelievably.

“You look like you just got kicked out of college for smoking weed during class!” Bob says with a serious tone.

Pitt wets his lips and adjusts his glasses, bigger than a magnifying glass. He breathes, “Dr. Bob, I came here to work. When I work, I use my head, my fingers, and my laptop. In that order. When my laptop is on, I use my own software. So, Mr. Bob…” “Doctor…Doctor Bob!”

“Whatever…What I mean to say is, I work with data. I analyze data and give you the findings so that you can use my knowledge and my skills to make money so that you can pay my salary!” Pitt stared at Bob, who was looking for things to say and could not find any.

“Out of my office!” Pitt stands, bewildered. ‘NOW!”

Joe was seated at his seat and sees Pitt moving. He walks away from the office, with his big bag and oversized jacket. Joe runs to the office.

“What the hell is wrong with you! Joe” Bob scolded. And started writing on the forms.

“Where is he going?” Joe inquires impatiently.

“Why do I care. That stupid nerd is a phony.”

“What! Do you know what you have done!” Joe said aloud.

“What are you talking about?” Bob asked, now attentive, Joe has never acted this way.

“Pitt graduated with a first-class honor in Mathematics, Data Science, and Analytical Engineering!” Joe answered.

“So what! You did graduate too’ didn’t you? In Business management and human relation? You did. What is the big deal?”

“And also, in Fashion Designing. But that is not the point. Pitt graduated in all of them at once.” Joe finished saying this, and Bob stopped writing.

“What do you mean? What is talking about, Joe? Are you losing it?”

“He is a darn superhero. He can calculate with his head. You just threw out our ticket to prosperity.” Joe said. Bob thought about it, he looked at Joe, who was smiling and worried at the same time.

“Get out Joe!”

Joe ran out. He was walking fast looking for him all over the place, the elevator and the stairs. Joe went to the edge of the building and saw Pitt walking in the park.

Pitt was lost in his mind. He did not hear Joe come to him.

“Come on Pitt.”

“What?” Pitt asked, surprisingly calm, “I know what you are going to say.”

“You do? Then, I know what you are going to say too, but please don’t. I know he can be a dick sometimes. Most of the time. But whose boss is great?”

“How old is he?” Pitt asked, cutting him off.

“What?” Joe exclaimed. “Don’t play dumb with me. If you know how old he is, I will go back.”

“Well, he is in his late thirties,” Joe said, holding his hands against each other, pleading.

“Please, it would be such an honor, Pitt.”

“I will be there in the morning.”

“Thank you, Pitt.” And Joe ran back into the building.

The next day, Bob walked in and saw Pitt in the office. Alone. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He did not have his bag. He must have come earlier than the rest. Bob ignored him, although he hard questions. Bob hurried to his office, and Pitt hurried to him and unfortunately lost the race. Bob entered and locked the door.

A few minutes later, Joe came in.

“Wow! You came earlier than I the time I wake up? When did you come here?” Joe asked, putting his suitcase down.

“I came here at four in the morning,” Pitt said.

“That is not cool, man.” Joe sits down and switches on his computer.

“So, how did you manage to come inside?” Joe curiously asked.

“I have my secret ways of doing things,” Pitt answered smiling.

“What?” Joe asked him.

“I ran to your boss, our boss, and he ran away!” Pitt said, swinging on his chair.

“He did that!?”

“He won fair and square.” Pitt sarcastically answered.

“Why were you two racing in the office. That sounds pretty weird to me, man” Joe said, concerned. “I wanted to handle him this,” Pitt said, handing Joe a piece of joined documents.

“What is this Pitt?”

Joe asked, his face first was confused, then he read a few things in the document, skimming through, worried and almost sweating.

“The question is, why was your boss running from me.”

Bob had locked himself in the office. He usually did. Then he heard a vigorous knock on the door. He frowned, in deep anger, ready to smack whoever it was. But he had his guess. He opened the door and as expected, Joe jerked in, holding the documents high for him to take them.

“Joe, you are going to lose your teeth one of these days.”

“That would be better than me losing my job. Check this.” Joe handled Bob the documents. Bob looked into his face as he took them and headed for the table. “Are you hanging out with the nerd?”

“What do you mean?” Joe asked, still absent-minded in the information he just saw in the document.

“You are starting to act weird like the new guy. Why are you too forcing me to loo……?” Bob went through the document, flipping pages, almost ripping them out. “What the…”

“I thought you must see it,” Joe said, the pin-drop silence now louder than ever, making the pages in the document sound louder than normal.

“Did the new guy do all this? “Bob asked.

“Yeah”

“In one night!?”

“Actually, in a few hours. He came early today…” Joe replied, “Yes, I know…I saw him…” In a calm soft voice,” And I locked him out!” Bob, his frown turning to a deep anxiousness, restless and speechless. His voice down to earth, soft and calm, however, he mumbled a few things alone.

“Should I call him?” Joe asked. Tension dominating the room. “Yes, of course. And where did he get this data?” Bob asked, concerned.

“From the web sir.”

“Is it legit big data?”

“Most of it, sir” Joe replied. “Are you sure?”

“No. But I can provide him with access to all our assets and database for assurance.”

“Just call him! Now!” Bob said throwing the document on the table. Rubbing all over his head, forcing himself to reason out the problem.

“It's over!” Bob said as he sat on the chair.

Pitt entered; Joe locked the door. Bob, not fully calm, looks at Pitt. He signals him to sit on the chair, Joe remains to stand, although there is an extra chair. Pitt is calm, relaxed, and swinging his legs sideways. Enjoying his time in the office. He looks like a black sheep in a flock in his casual wear, although he looks older.

“So, we need you to tells us what is this?”

“According to the report I gave you, your assets are gaining a downward depression against the actual value,” Pitt answered in a flash of a second.

“What I mean is, tell me in a language a five-year-old would understand.”

“Whatever you got as wealth is at risk. In two days, you will out of business.” Pitt answered.

“And that is according to what?” Bob asked.

“According to the statistical data published by your team online.

“Does anyone else have this information?” Bob asked, looking both momentarily, eyes almost popping out.

“Only three souls sir” Joe answered.

“Joe, go back to your office and make sure Mr. Pitt has all the access he needs to the extra data. We need a full report on this.” Bob told Joe, who left in a flash.

The room came back to a grave silence, Bob sweating out, hands both under his lips, his teeth against his knuckles.

“Do you need anything?” Pitt asked.

“I don’t know,” Bob answered.

“Why don’t I go and check the other data. Maybe it is not as bad as it looks but I won’t advise on high hopes.” Pitt said.

“Alright.” Bob, fully disturbed, turns back on his rotary chair and looks away into the horizon.

In the evening, the three remained in the office, looking into what Pitt had unearthed.

“This is a big problem,” Bob said without a doubt.

“That is the icing on the cake. You have not thought about the next chapter of this disaster.” Pitt said. Joe lived that day like a dead man walking. He looked awful. “Joe, go home,” Bob said, and he was left with Pitt.

“Do you drink?” Bob asked Pitt.

“Are you paying?”

Bob took Pitt into a luxurious bar. There were dancers and colored in neon lights, disco lights flashing. Bob knew his way around and occasionally looked back to wait for Pitt to find his way forward. He was excited to see half-naked ladies dancing on a pole, wearing crowns and peacock tails.

They walked into a quieter room, where Bob told the waitress to bring ten of the usual.

“So, I heard you are a very tough genius.” Bob started.

“The rumors are not true,” Pitt answered.

“Which part? “Bob enquired.” The part where I graduated with three courses. They were six courses. Three of which I never got the approval.

“At the same darn time?”

The drinks came, beer.

“Where did you go to school? I mean, as a kid?” Bob asked, sipping on the beer.

“Ngecha,” Pitt answered after a long silence. Bob almost choked on his beer.

“What was that!” He put his beer bottle down and swallowed the gulp. He looked straight into Pitt.

“You went to Ngecha Lower School?” Bob asked, perplexed.

“Yeah, why?” Pitt asked, confused.

“Which year?” Bob asked, impatient. “ ’97..”

“This is super crazy!”

“What?” Pitt, now getting confused.

“Did you know Teacher Wanjiku?” Bob asked, his mouth and eyes full of anticipation.

“She was my class teacher all my life in the school…did you go there?”

Pitt asked, curious.

“We were freaking classmates!!!” Bob exclaimed, excited. Wide smile.

“What!”

Bob started talking about the old days. Moments past. Pitt felt left out in the dialogue.

“What is wrong, bro,” Bob asked.

“Nothing,” Pitt said, but not too convincing.

“Come on.” Bob patted him. Pitt looked at where he touched him. Then ignored.

“No, don’t mind me,” Pitt assured.

“You can talk to me. I am your friend now.” Bob said, trying to smile so that Pitt would smile back. He just sat upright, while Bob sat relaxed. He never put his bag down. Lost in his mind.

“What have you got in that genius mind of yours. I could use some of it right now. I am about to lose a company I have spent my whole building.” Bob said.

“Well, I am just thinking. Things. Not very serious.” Pitt said, Bob, listening.

I have had good days and bad days. However, I have never dreamt of a day like this. It is such a…such a special day.” Pitt said.

“What do you mean by that?” Bob asked, lost in the conversation.

Pitt sat back, now more relaxed.

“Before I was recommended to you, I was working for Mr. Simpsons,” Pitt said, and Bob jumped in.

“You worked for Mr. Simpson?” Bob said loudly, surprised too much to ask more.

“He was a good man in the end. When I first met him, he was struggling with his books. He had just begun a good income strategy, but his books made his nature of work so hard. He had no life, except work that bore no fruits.

Then one day he called me to help him destroy those books, they had filled his house. I refused to help him. He hated to see right then. Then I told him, maybe we could store the data in the books first on a computer.

He bought me a computer, and I handled his books since then, as a teenager, building a small business into an empire which he sold for his retirement.” Pitt paused.

“You helped him? That guy was a good-for-nothing fraud. Are you a fraud too?”

“Well…my story gets pretty ugly from here. You see, when I worked for him, he treated me like trash. He was like you. He saw me as nothing. When he finally sold his company, do you know what he said?”

“I would even guess?” Bob said, listening, forgetting he is holding a bottle of beer.

“He said, go to the doctor, I don’t need you anymore.”

“That was rude. But how can you compare me to that pig?” Bob defended himself, now half-conscious. The drinks were getting into him.

“You never saw my true value in how I looked. You treated me like an animal that is yet to be tamed.  It took you one man’s conviction and six hundred billion loss risk to get you to give me a sit in your office.”

Bob is completely struck by the truth. Now getting more drunk and sinking into the sofa seat steadily, seeing Pitt in dozen reflections and echoing voice and club music. The bottle falls and breaks.

“I know you are currently facing a forecasted doomsday that is about to change your world forever, but I have a small piece of advice for you before you see me for the final time.” Pitt wakes up from his seat and goes where Bob is laying motionlessly, only his eyeballs moving.

“Treat everybody like somebody. Strangers become friends because they are your enemies. The same strangers become your enemies so that you can become friends somewhere in life. But this right here, Dr. Bob, this friendship is not going to work. You should have listened to me when I ran to you this morning. Now you lose everything.”

Pitt took his last sip of the beer and left Bob fading away in his lucid dreams.