3 minute read
Cesare Rosati – Balancing Act, Richard Boyer
Inspired by Balancing Act by Richard Boyer
Cesare Rosati
Olympic Dream
George reached for the phone but hesitated to make the call. He grabbed his coffee cup instead. Then he rose and walked to his office windowsill. It was full of framed photographs of better times. He took a sip of coffee and then ran a finger along the top of one of the frames. It contained his marriage photo. His wife Karen had been, and still was, a striking woman. The two of them had grown up on the same street in Cleveland, OH; attended the same high school; and had married two weeks after graduating.
Next, he lifted the framed picture of their honeymoon in Hawaii. The skimpy bikini she was wearing still had the same effect on him. With that thought in mind, he didn’t hear the door to his office open and was startled when he heard his assistant, William, say, “Mr. Fishman’s secretary is on the line. She said he wants to know if you can make tonight’s dinner party at his home. He also told her to remind you that the corporate president will be there.”
George turned to face him and said, “Yes. Tell her I plan to be there.”
William left and he returned to his desk, sat, and made his call. It rang many times before it was answered.
“Turner residence,” answered the pleasant female voice. “Who’s calling?”
“Gail, it’s me,” he said. “I’ve got an important meeting tonight. I really can’t miss it. Can you cover for me?”
A long pause ensued before she finally said, “OK, but no later than ten o’clock.”
“That’s fine. Thank you so much. How is she doing today?”
“It’s been a wonderful day. She spent the morning telling me all about the neighborhood where she grew up. Her memories are so vivid, I could picture myself there. Then, so far this afternoon we’ve been watching Lucy and Desi reruns on TV. She had a couple minor episodes where she rose from the couch, confused as to where she was and who I was, but they passed quickly and we’re now back to the Lucy show. Will you be stopping by before your meeting?”
“No. I keep an extra suit here at the office. I’ll see you later.”
After replacing the handset, he rose and walked out of his office. William was sitting at his desk.
“Bill,” he said, “Have you finished compiling the sales figures for this quarter?”
“Yes. I’ve got them right here,” he said, holding up a file folder.
“Great. Thanks. I’m sure President Cantor will ask about it at tonight’s dinner.”
- - - - -
Fishman’s home was only a mile from his, so George knew he could make it home before ten o’clock. Dinner was served at seven, and by eight, George was being grilled about the quarterly sales figures. Fortunately, he was prepared. He had just finished his report when his cell rang. He checked, saw who it was and excused himself to answer it.
“She’s gone! She’s gone!” shouted Gail. “I was only gone for a few minutes to use the toilet and when I got back to the living room, she wasn’t on the sofa watching TV. I’ve searched the house and the yard. She’s not here. Oh God! She’s not here.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
It was less than ten minutes when George walked into his house. Gail was distraught. All she could say was “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I was only gone a few minutes, and she was so engrossed in the Lucy show, I…”
“OK. OK. Take it easy. She couldn’t have gone far. So she was sitting on the sofa watching TV…”
“Yes. Lucy and Desi were planning a trip to the Olympics, and…”
“The Olympics?” said George.
“Yes. They…”
“Never mind. I think I know where she went. Let’s go!”
“Where?”
“The old rail yard.”
They ran the two blocks to the abandoned rail yard and there she was, balancing on one of the rails.
“How did you know?” asked Gail.
“She always dreamed of competing as a gymnast at the Olympics,” he replied, as tears began flowing down his cheeks. “We used to come here as kids. She’d stand on one of the rails and pretend she was on the balance beam.”
“Come on,” said Gail. “Let’s take her home.”
“No,” said George, between sobs, “Not yet. Let her have her moment.” u