character sketch

movingfinger

The Boss

His beard looks out of place. Some people look good in beards, he
doesn’t. Of course nobody would dare tell him this, he being the head of the
company. I have spent many years looking at this man, wondering what
makes him tick. Each day he walks into the building promptly at seven o’ five
wearing either a blue or gray double breasted suit. He nods his head when
people greet him, he will only say hello to women. People fear this man, lately
I have been trying to figure out why.

In appearance he is not intimidating at all. He reminds me of my
grandfather, especially his eyes; he has kind eyes, I think most people are too
afraid of him to look into his eyes. This is the third year I have been Mr.
Cawley’s secretary, for the first two I was Miss Halloway, now I am Jan. I
always hear people whispering bad things when they leave his office; how he
is a brute and how they wish he would just up and die. I guess they have
their reasons; he’s always been nice to me.

I am not quite sure what his age is, I would guess seventy, but he is
very mysterious when it comes to personal information. The only time he ever
snapped at me was when I asked him if he was married. I have learned not
to ask personal questions to Mr. Cawley, it is almost more fun to guess. He
has brownish gray hair, not completely white like most men his age. He might
dye it to hide his age more, I am not sure, though; he is not a vain man. I
have discerned, although he never answered me, that he doesn’t have a wife.
I screen all of his calls and not once have I received a personal call for him. I
think he must live a lonely life.

Sometimes I picture what he might have been like forty years ago. I
know he wasn’t always a crusty old man, his eyes betray him. I think of him
dancing with a beautiful young lady, sometimes I even picture myself dancing
with him; it gets boring on slow days. His hair, brown and lush; his face,
clean shaven and unwrinkled. It is a far cry from what he looks like now.
Time has put many creases on his face, time and many hardships.

He founded this company twenty-five years ago. He must have been a
zealous and passionate man back then. As the company grew, though, I have
a feeling these traits diminished into greed and remoteness. I see many
executives leave his office in tears; I don’t often see these executives again.
No one leaves his office looking happy. I think this is on account of the fact
that Mr. Cawley doesn’t have time for happiness anymore. How could he
relate something that he has forgotten?

He avoids making people happy, for if he were to do so he might
remember the happiness he once had. I fear this would only make him more
remote, crusty. I think this is why he snapped at me when I asked if he was
married; it made him remember someone, maybe his wife, maybe someone he
wanted to marry. He distances himself for a reason, maybe remembering is
just too painful for him. When I look in his eyes, though, I still see the
kindness and I know it is there. He has just forgotten it, like everything else
beyond these marble walls.

ISN

you're very inventive....and it's enjoyable reading your pieces......they make you think.....I commend your talent.....:)