Aaron Fick. I've spent my life next to that name; it has always been dominantly attached to mine. My name, Ian MacIssac, is always spoken aside Aaron Fick, as if to know me by my relation to him. In high school, we were inseparable. Aaron was the social one; I never cared about people. I would only go out with Aaron because he wanted me to go. The first beer I drank was opened by Aaron's hand. The first girl I dated was brought to me by Aaron.
Fick Manufacturing Inc. I've spent my life next to that name, a company started by Aaron Fick. I've been working for him from the start. I'm the Assistant Executive Director now. I have two doors in my office, one heads into the administrative office and one onto the factory floor. Because of these doors, my office serves to connect these two sides of the company. My office is a hallway. The window in my office leads onto the factory floor and allows me to watch everyone from afar; I write reports on who is doing their job and who isn't. My reports go to the executive director, who decides if they should be passed on to Aaron.
Wild Cat Strong. That's the beer Aaron handed me. It was terrible, but I drank it. Emily Winters was the girl; I married her. She never let me have children.
When Aaron and I are in meetings he still does all the talking. He runs the company; he gives the orders; he makes the connections, and I sit back and watch him do it. In a strange way, I think Aaron is a beautiful man. He still looks fifteen, though he's forty-five. He has a baby face, but a sage's eyes.
Aaron is talking with his hands, striking his points into the air. The skin on his hands is smooth; his nails are trimmed and clean. His eyes momentarily flick over mine and he smiles; I shift in my seat and straighten my spine which has become sore. The meeting closes and the crowd shuffles out. Aaron sits on the table next to where I'm sitting and asks how everything is going.
“I have no kids, Aaron,” I complain again. “I'm forty-four and I have no kids.”
He apologizes to me. “Emily just has another focus.”
Aaron grabs the back of my head and kisses my hairline.
“Find something else to do,” he says.
So I think about his bank account, and mine. I think about how his is shrinking, and mine is growing. I think about the beach to which I have a ticket. I think about Aaron and Emily, and how I will soon be unattached from them both. I think, for once, about myself.
©2010. Published with permission. Reproduction without permission is prohibited by international law.