Free Something Happened by Joseph Heller Page A

anything about getting rid of me.”
    “Sure.”
    “You will, won’t you?”
    “Of course I will. For Christ sakes, Andy, can’t you trust me?”
    “Where are
you
going?” Green wants to know, as I pass him in the corridor on my way to Arthur Baron’s office.
    “Arthur Baron wants to see me.”
    Green skids to a stop with a horrified glare; and it’s all I can do not to laugh in his face.
    “What does he want with
you
?” Green wants to know.
    “I haven’t any idea.”
    “You’d better go see him.”
    “I thought of doing that.”
    “Don’t be so God-damned sarcastic,” Green snaps back at me angrily, and I lower my eyes, abashed and humbled by his vehemence. “I’m not even sure I trust
you
, either.”
    “I’m sorry. Jack,” I mumble. “I didn’t intend that to sound rude.”
    “You come see me as soon as you’ve finished talking to him,” he orders. “I want to know what he says. I want to know if I’m being fired or not.”
    “What was Kagle talking to you about?” Brown asks when I bump into him.
    “He wanted to know what you were up to while he was away in Denver.”
    “I was correcting his mistakes and protecting hisGod-damned job, that was what I was up to,” Brown retorts.
    “That’s just what I told him.”
    “You’re a liar,” Brown tells me pleasantly.
    “Johnny, that’s what they pay me for.”
    “But everybody knows it …”
    “So?”
    “… so I guess it doesn’t matter.”
    “A diplomat, Johnny. Not a liar.”
    “Yeah, a diplomat,” Brown agrees with a gruff and hearty laugh. “You lying son of a bitch.”
    “I was just coming to see you,” Jane says to me. “I want to show you this layout.”
    I stare brazenly at her tits. “I can see your layout.” She starts to giggle and blush deliciously, but I turn serious. “Not now, Jane. I have to go see Arthur Baron.”
    “Oh, hello, Mr. Slocum,” Arthur Baron’s secretary says to me. “How are you?”
    “You look fine today.”
    The door to Arthur Baron’s office is closed, and I don’t know how to cope with it, whether to turn the knob and go right in or knock diffidently and wait to be asked. But Arthur Baron’s twenty-eight-year-old secretary, who is fond of me and having trouble with her husband (he’s probably queer), nods encouragingly and motions me to go right through. I turn the knob gingerly and open the door. Arthur Baron sits alone at his desk and greets me with a smile. He rises and comes forward slowly to shake my hand. He is always very cordial to me (and everyone) and always very gentle and considerate. Yet I am always afraid of him. He’s got the whammy on me, I guess (just as everyone I’ve ever worked for in my whole life has had the whammy on me), and I guess he always will.
    “Hello, Bob,” he says.
    “Hi, Art.”
    “Come in.” He closes the door noiselessly.
    “Sure.”
    “How are you, Bob?”
    “Fine, Art. You?”
    “I want you to begin preparing yourself,” he tells me, “to replace Andy Kagle.”
    “Kagle?” I ask.
    “Yes.”
    “Not Green?”
    “No.” Arthur Baron smiles, knowledgeable and reassuring. “We don’t really think you’re ready for Green’s job yet.”
    There is a polite irony here, for we both know that Kagle’s job is bigger and more important than Green’s, and that Green would be subordinate to Kagle if Kagle were of stronger character. The proposition stuns me, and for a few bewildered seconds I have absolutely no idea what to say or do or what expression to keep on my face. Arthur Baron watches me steadily and waits.
    “I’ve never done any real selling,” I say finally, very meekly.
    “We won’t want you to do any,” he replies. “We want you to manage. You’re loyal and intelligent and you’ve got good character and good work habits. You seem to have a good understanding of policy and strategy, and you get along well with all kinds of people. You’re diplomatic. You’re perceptive and sensitive, and you seem to be a