Alexander's Gift

The Maverick- 5

"Mr. Vallen, you didn't have to attend this meeting today, as I'm sure you're still finding your way around the railroad." The same man from yesterday's board meeting said sickly sweetly, though an intense look tinted his eyes. Monty's hand went up to his tie, a nervous habit, and then he said with equivalent authority, "I appreciate your concern, Mister, uh-"

"Malter. Jerry Malter."

"Mr. Malter, but I am aware of the importance surrounding this particular deal, and I simply wanted to be sure that everything proceeded without any . . . issues." He gazed around the table brazenly, as if daring someone else to question his attending the meeting. No one else did.

A rotund, balding man stood up fumblingly with a folder of papers and began reading nervously, "Now, Hudson Equipment Corporation has already signed off with us to source our new freight trains at a discounted price." He lowered his papers and looked at the corner of the desk as he added softly, "That's not to say the transition will be seamless, but the deficit should only  last for the first few months. After that, we'll have up to triple the profits as we've got now." The other men nodded in agreement, and he sat down in relief, wiping his bare forehead with a handkerchief.

"You fellas have all done your homework on this deal for the past several months, so at this point it all comes down to a vote to make it official." Mr. Malters said confidently casually, although there was something about him that made Monty think he was always edging at something more than simply what he said . . . with a great desperation belied by a fear of something.

Monty listened thoughtfully while each man unfailingly voted 'yes'. He had been planning on just going along with what they had decided, for they were the true railroad experts, not him. But when it came his turn, he suddenly found he had changed his mind. He knew he was going to veto the decision. He had to.

The looks on their faces as he gave his decision said it all: they all thought he was an unintelligent knucklehead born with a silver spoon in his mouth who was just messing around with the position. They looked at him in such utter disdain it became pity- they had to blame his being out of his mind on something, and it just so happened his father's death was the perfect answer.

"What do you mean, 'no'? Don't you understand the precarious financial situation we're in right now? We need the profits. Badly." Mr. Malters looked at him intensely searchingly with emerald green eyes.

"Well, it's not that I don't agree with the numbers, but I believe this would change fundamentally the company. If we transform into a freight-carrying railroad, we won't be any different from the rest of them. It won't be . . . Vallen Railroads anymore." He searched for words to manifest what was sending his heart beating madly. Mr. Malter pursed his lips and looked at Monty patronizingly. "And why would that be?"

"Well, I know this sounds more sentimental than practical, and I'm not saying you should agree with me! But if we don't have the railroads for the people, if we stop them from seeing what-what I see when I'm on that train . . . we might as well stop everything altogether." With crystal eyes wide in urging- pleading- for them to see what he saw so clearly, he could feel the passion rising within him again like fire as he thought about the train ride. How complete it made him feel. As if nothing bad could ever happen to him again. He wanted the people to be able to feel it, too. What the board was talking about was buying off the Mona Lisa and keeping it in a basement somewhere. It was unthinkable. It was blasphemy.

But the longer he searched their faces, practically sitting on the edge of his seat in excitement, the more disappointment settled in the pit of his stomach and rose in his throat like bile. He didn't know why he was disappointed, for there had been nothing to make him believe they would agree with him, but a part of him would always hope despite everything else that was.