One evening while Danny was home for spring break of his junior year, Steve answered the phone. Danny saw Steve's face take on a solemn expression, then he replaced the receiver. "Son, I'm afraid your grandfather has passed on. Roberts is asking us to come to the house as your grandfather has left a letter of instructions to be carried out by you." Steve got up. "Let's get changed into suits and go help poor Roberts. He doesn't know which way to turn."
"Oh, Master Daniel, thank you for coming so promptly. I was ordered not to do anything until you had read Mr. Worthington's instructions. I placed them on the desk in his study. This way, please."
Danny quickly read the list of things to do and passed each page to Steve once he's read it. "I suppose the first thing is to call the President of Worthington Industries and inform him. He can inform the members of the board," Danny said. "I'm sorry, Dad, but I guess I'll have to use the name Worthington so he'll know who I am."
"I expected that, Son, and it makes no difference under the circumstances. Once this is all over and you find out your role in the business, you can inform them of your name change, if you wish."
The moderately sized Anglican church was filled to overflowing with the business leaders and politicians of the city, not out of respect for the departed, but knowing that being seen at such an important event would be advantageous in the future.
Admonished by Danny before he, Steve, and Roberts took their seats in the second pew, the Rector used a brief liturgy and gave a eulogy lasting no more than five minutes. As his uncle's remains were to be cremated there was no further service, only the reception in the parish hall which Danny had tried to avoid, but was told it was customary and expected.
In the hub-bub, Danny managed to speak privately for a moment with the man his grandfather had indicated as being the one completely trustworthy officer in the company who would be loyal to Danny and in whom Danny could have complete confidence. They arranged to meet secretly the next evening at the mansion to discuss financial issues of which Danny needed to be aware.
Having made the arrangements to meet, and with material that needed study in order to settle the Worthington estate, Gray drove to the office tower of Worthington Industries to pick up his forgotten reading glasses. Seeing light in the window of one of the executive offices when there should have been no one in the building, he parked in a public lot rather than use the executive parking where his car might be recognized. Using his pass key, he opened an unmarked metal door and entered a tiny lobby on the side of the building. He took the small lift to the top floor, entering what would now be Danny's office as CEO of Worthington Industries.
At Gray's insistence, Mr. Worthington had named him vice-president for environmental affairs - a nothing position in a nothing job where he would be ignored and forgotten by the other executives, a clever ploy on Gray's part to conceal his real position as confidential assistant to Mr. Worthington. Privy to every aspect of Worthington business, he communicated only to Mr. Worthington who, in turn, communicated with the rest of the corporate structure through the, in name only, president of Worthington Industries. Few people even had an inkling that Worthington himself remained in total control, much less complete ownership, of the company.
Gray settled himself in the large leather chair behind the desk and pressed a privacy override button on the elaborate telephone. Only two phones, his and Mr. Worthington's, had such a feature. No one else was aware that it existed. By pressing the button, then punching in the number of the extension he wish to listen to, he could hear clearly every word spoken in the office or on a phone call.
Punching in the number of an executive extension, a smile crossed his lips as he heard voices. What he had earlier overheard a secretary saying had not been gossip as he had then credited it to be. Once the recorder was running, he settled back to listen.
Three divisional vice-presidents of Worthington Industries sat in the office of the senior vice-president, drinks in hand, and celebrated.
"Who would have ever believed the old fool would remain so sharp at his age?" One of them asked.
"Who cares? Besides, I think it might have been Dixon; he's been president for some years now. We may have underestimated him because I've always thought him a rather stupid man, but he must be sharp as they come. He has run things like old Worthington did and Worthington hasn't been around for the past three years or so. But now he's gone; the golden goose is ready for plucking and, with what we've already managed to syphon off and what we can put away in the next six months, we can all retire comfortably and never leave a trail."
"What about the kid?"
"What about him? Hell, he's still in college. No way he's capable of running things, much less spotting any irregularities." He grinned, "As if we left any irregularities to be found."
"What about that Harmon guy that he lives with?" Asked another.
"Ha!" The first speaker snorted. "No way he's knowledgeable enough about WI to understand the business, much less know what's going on. I doubt he's even smart enough."
Geoffrey Gray leaned back in his leather executive chair with a satisfied smile on his lips. 'I knew those bastards were up to something, now all Daniel needs is proof positive as a basis for firing them, maybe even recovering at least a part of what they have stolen from the company and him. God knows, none of the people who have had to work for that bunch will regret their going.' The thought kept him smiling as he exited the executive suite via the way he had entered to avoid running into any of the men whose conversation he had just recorded.
The next evening in the study at the mansion, Gray protested Steve's presence even though Danny insisted. "Daniel, your grandfather told you to trust me in everything, I know, but he was specific that when it came to business I was to pass that information only to you. What you don't know, because for some reason he would never let me tell you, is that I am also your godfather. I love you as I do my own family."
Danny broke into a radiant smile. "Wonderful! May I call you Uncle Geoff?"
"I would like that very much and I hope that you will let me work with you, guiding you until you have finished your education," Gray paused slightly. "I don’t mean to force my help on you, but your grandfather made me swear to give you my complete loyalty and to help you in any way that I can unless you raised some valid objection."
"Other than dad, who knows practically nothing about Worthington Industries, I have no one. Of course, I wish your help, Uncle Geoff, but I also insist that Steve have as much information as I."
"Very well." Gray pulled several bound reports from his briefcase and handed them to Danny. "These are the comprehensive financial records of last year's operation. Your education is far enough along for you to understand them with careful study. I regret to say that I feel strongly that you should hire a private outside firm of auditors. By this I mean officially hire one of their financial investigators for the accounting department of Worthington Industries, not the auditing section of any given division. You need the whole picture."
"Someone trying to siphon off income from some of the divisions for personal gain?" Steve asked, speaking for the first time.
"I have reason to believe that may be the case. Perhaps not in the auditing department specifically, but there has to be a least one person in authority in auditing to help in a cover up. I'm almost certain that more than one person is involved. Unfortunately, accounting is a prime location in which to juggle the books."
"I know of an excellent independent accounting firm that has an investigative division. I was called in to set up their computer system with a program designed to fit their needs." Steve said.
"Follow up on that, please, Dad. And thank you, Uncle Geoff, for bringing this to my attention."
"I'm sorry to bring bad news to our first meeting, Daniel, but by moving swiftly to resolve this matter, the board will gain a measure of respect for you rather than dismissing you because of your youth." He stood and picked up his briefcase. "I must be going. You have my private numbers, Daniel. Use them at any time."
Danny walked over and hugged the surprised man. "Thank you, Uncle Geoff. I've always wanted some family, an uncle at least. I'm happy to have one at last."
Three evenings later, a nondescript man arrived at their flat just after Danny had returned from classes and changed clothes. When they were seated in Steve’s home office, Steve introduced the man. "Danny, this is Mr. Barnes. He’s an accountant who knows all the tricks. I think he will do a good job for you."
Barnes lips turn up in a slight attempt at a smile. "Mr. Harmon tells me you have arranged to have me hired by Worthington Industries and that I’m to pay special attention to the accounts of both the consulting and the purchasing departments."
"That's correct, Sir. I wish you to perform as a regular member of the accounting team, but all of the consulting and purchasing department records will come across your desk as a matter of routine audit." Danny handed Barnes a small piece of paper. "These are the passwords you will need to access the departmental computers for those accounts as a double check against the reported amounts.
"Every transaction, no matter of what origin, must be entered into the computer. At the end of each day the departmental computers transfer their daily operations to the central computer. I think any fiddling of the accounts will show by comparing what you see in the normal daily summaries and what shows on the original transactions entered in the departmental computers. It appears so easy to find, but spurious accounts are very easily created." Danny paused, looking thoughtful. "I don't believe any password has been changed without permission from the head of auditing. If you should run into one, I'll try to find someone who can break it."
Barnes smiled with effort. "No problem, young man. I can hack a computer with the best of them. Older people, and I assume your people in a position to do what we suspect don't have the computer skills needed to create much of a code. But back to the subject. If one or more of those accounts are fronts for off-shore financial institutions in places where banking secrecy laws attract crooks, this could be most interesting and, shall we say, not precisely legal."
Steve nodded. "Legal, schmegal, if they're ripping Danny and Worthington Industries off, I want them caught and prosecuted. You will report to the personnel department at Worthington tomorrow at nine o'clock. If there is any question, ask for Mr. Gray. He's responsible for setting this up and has our full confidence. You may speak to him if necessary and Danny or I are not available."
"Thank you, sir. You may well not hear from me again until I have a full report prepared. That usually takes a reasonable period of time; I work thoroughly, not quickly."
"Excellent. Time is not a factor here, though we would like the situation resolved as quickly as practical."
"I understand completely, and if you have no objections, I would prefer to deliver my report to you in person so that I may answer any questions that may arise." Barnes stood. "Now I shall prepare for my employment at Worthington Industries. Good evening, gentlemen."
Once the door closed behind Barnes, Danny looked at Steve. "I see what you mean. He even looks like an accountant, but he sure doesn't waste time or words. You made a fantastic choice, Dad."
"We'll see. I hope he's as good as I'm told he is."
"Dad, I want to ask a real favor of you."
"What that might be, Son. You know I'll do anything for you within reason."
"I want you to quit your job, if you can without losing anything, and become my personal assistant. I'll pay you double what you're making now and a full executive benefits package."
Steve looked at Danny in shock. "I … I don't know what to say, Son. This is so unexpected."
"Why? Haven't I asked you a thousand questions since grandfather died?"
"Yes, but …"
"No but's. I know it won't be an easy transition, but we'll get to spend more time together. Maybe even make some of those train shows we've missed because of school and work." Danny looked pleadingly at Steve. "Please, Dad. You've said any number of times that you aren't happy with your new boss."
Steve finally looked at Danny with a happy expression. "I'll do it, Son. I have enough seniority to get paid for holiday and sick time I've not used, and my retirement is portable. In addition, Worthington's medical plan is superior to the one I have now." He grinned. "Besides, it'll give me no end of pleasure to tell Curtis to take his job and shove it."
Danny giggled. "Maybe you could give him a CD of that song along with your resignation."
Steve chuckled. "I just might. You're purely evil, Son. That's why I love you."
With Steve now always within call, things settled back into a routine for Danny. Classes during the day, study of both schoolwork and material Danny's godfather sent by messenger relating to the oversight of Worthington Industries in the evenings, as both Steve and Danny work to familiarize themselves with the operation of Worthington Industries.
Among the list of personal possessions of his grandfather, needed to settle the estate, Danny found reference to a holiday retreat. Checking, he determined that the property was located in the mountains and consisted of fifty acres of land including a lake and a small cabin.
"Look at this, Dad." Danny pointed out the listing to Steve. "Thanksgiving is a long weekend for us. The weather is still fairly warm, so why don't we drive up Wednesday afternoon and take a look? We can come back the following Wednesday. It'll be a nice break."
"What about your classes?"
"It's review week. I don't have any mandatory classes on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday will be a half day."
"Good, it'll get us away from all this study and work. Give Roberts a call and see if there's anything special we should know."
When Danny hung up the phone, he smiled at Steve. "Good thing you thought of Roberts. Apparently there is a full time caretaker for the place. He'll have the caretaker open it up, turn on all the utilities, and stock the kitchen so we won't have to grocery shop. He said that if we were going to be there at least a week, he would drive us up and chef will be along to cook and all that. He told me it was grandfather's custom that if he was going to be gone for a week or more, he would have Roberts close the house, give all the servants a holiday, and drive him to the cabin. He said if we didn't want him along, he would bring us a map sometime tomorrow. He says it's difficult to find without one."
"We haven't made any use of the house since you inherited it, so I imagine the servants are wondering what's going to happen to them. This would be a good chance for us to get away so you can think about what you want to do with that huge place. If you make it a paid holiday it might help the servants feel more secure while you're making a decision." Steve paused, then grinned. "You know, it might just make things easier for Mr. Barnes to do his job."
"How?"
"With you out of town, whoever is responsible for the theft might feel that you are unaware of anything going on."
"Yeah."
When he delivered the map to Danny, Roberts asked again to go with them to the cabin, saying he and the chef had no family and a week at the cabin would be a holiday for them. Steve and Danny happily acquiesced. As the Bentley slowly made its way up the steep winding road that comprised the last few miles, Steve was comforted by the fact that Roberts was driving.
Roberts stopped the car and Lang, the chef, got out to unlock a gate barring the way. They drove another quarter mile before the cabin came into view. What Steve and Danny had expected to be a small cabin was, instead, a spacious log structure with a large room comprising, with the exception of a modest kitchen, the entire first floor. A stone fireplace centered one end wall.
The second floor held four large bedrooms with en suite baths. After showing Danny and Steve the master suite and saying, "My usual room is the last on this hall by the stairway to the kitchen, Sir, which I share with Chef Lang. If you have no objections … " Roberts took his bag and walked to the far end of the hall, where Lang, having come up the back staircase, waited.
To Danny's delight, Roberts and Lang, when he wasn't preparing a meal for them, relaxed on the shady patio with a book, or paddled the canoe around the lake, sometimes fishing. When he said something to Roberts, the man smiled and answered, "Oh, Sir, I am more relaxed than I have been for some time. This is why I said this would be a holiday for me as well; it has always been a pleasant break in my duties. I have felt rather useless since your grandfather's passing with there being no one in the house. I do hope that you and Mr. Harmon will decide to move into the house. It needs you and the spirit of youth, just as I need someone to serve. Also, we can't have the servants getting lax, now can we?"
"Thank you, Roberts. That's one of the things that Steve and I plan to reach a decision on while we're here. I do think the old place needs quite a bit of redecorating before we'd move, however."
"I have tried to keep the place in perfect order, sir. If you have any complaint …"
"Not at all, Roberts. It's just so dark and gloomy. Steve says it's a part of the type of architecture and the period in which it was built, but I don't plan to live in a museum, so if there's no restrictions and some money in the household budget, I want to consult a decorator."
"May I offer a suggestion, sir?"
"Please. And never hesitate to let me know what you think."
"You are most kind, sir. At Mr. Worthington's passing, the house was automatically listed on the national register of historic places at his request. That limits severely what you may make in the way of changes. The committee who examined the place were particularly impressed that the furnishings are all original as well. I know of several other homes in a similar situation. In two cases, the owners live in one wing of the house, others built a guest house in a harmonizing style and live there. The big house is then opened to the public for guided tours as a museum of the particular period. I understand, sir, that there is quite a tax advantage, especially if it is used for educational purposes such permitting architecture professors from the university bring their students to study the design, furnishings, and so forth. Even if an admission fee is charged the public, the tax advantage will continue. I do know there have been numerous requests to the city's tourist bureau for tours of the house, and the dean of the school of architecture at the university has requested tours for his senior students to be conducted on a regular basis, as well. That makes the educational connection a certainty if you wish to pursue that option."
Danny shook his head. "Wow! You sure have given me something to think about. I mean, who could we find to run the place like that?"
"Sir, I don't mean to be forward, but I have always wished I could share my knowledge of the house with others. Other than conducting tours, there would be no real change in my duties."
"Now I understand completely why my grandfather praised you so highly, Roberts. If we decide to do as you've suggested, you will certainly be promoted to the position of head curator and given a commensurate rise in salary."
"Thank you, Master Danny. My wages already exceed my needs and allow for considerable savings as well. I shan't require more."
"But you will have additional responsibilities. However, we shall see after Steve and I make a decision. Thank you for your honest suggestions, Roberts."
"Not at all, Sir."
On returning to the city, one of the first things Danny did was to put his personal attorney to researching the concept of turning the house into a museum. In the privacy of his bedroom and in such free time away from Steve as he could manage, Danny worked on a module particularly his own.
When his grandfather's lawyer called and asked for a conference regarding the use of the house, Danny asked Roberts to have the library of the house prepared for the meeting and to be present.
Over a bottle of excellent wine from his grandfather's cellar, Danny, Steve, and Roberts listened as the lawyer explained that, under the circumstances, the best way to utilize the property was to set up a non-profit educational site founded privately by Danny. Asked about operation, Danny insisted that Roberts be named head curator and placed in charge with a commensurate increase in salary. Knowing that Roberts had come to the house from England as a very young man to serve Mr. Worthington, the lawyer quickly agreed.
Roberts also insisted that the present trained staff be retained, and when the attorney questioned the above average compensation and benefits offered on their original employment, Danny was quick to defend the package as creating a loyal and trustworthy staff with which Roberts quickly agreed.
It was Danny who gave Roberts his first task in his new position as curator. Roberts was to engage a professional cleaning service to clean every inch of the house from cellar to attic, the household staff to supervise.
Though the household staff had always done their work well and none had ever complained, the supervisor from the cleaning service mentioned to Danny that his people were complaining about the level of performance Roberts and the household staff were demanding and feeling overworked. Danny merely replied that they were being well paid, so they should expect to work in a professional manner.
One of the older household staff had accidentally overheard the conversation between Danny and the supervisor and rushed to the kitchen where she doubled up in laughter while sharing the news with several others.
"Overworked, indeed!" One snorted. "I bet none of them people has ever done a good day's work in their lives. Roberts ain't never made none of us feel overworked. Sure, there's times when we all get rushed for somethin' special, but we always get extra pay or time off in return. He's a good man. I miss some of the old times when Mr. Worthington threw them big parties." A maid rubbed her ample stomach. "When he had those big dinner parties, we sure did eat good for a couple of days after. 'Course, you wouldn't never catch me eaten' none of them snails. I just can't believe some of the things rich folks eats."
A few nights before the official opening of the Worthington House Museum, Steve received a call requesting an urgent meeting that evening at the apartment.
Promptly at seven, the doorbell chimed and Steve admitted Mr. Barnes. In the study, Barnes opened his briefcase and laid a sheaf of papers before Steve and Danny.
"Gentlemen, it has taken six weeks of carefully scrutinizing and comparing reported figure, but what you suspected is unfortunately a fact. Your primary officer in accounting and two of the officers in purchasing, including the divisional manager, have been skimming off a million or more from operations each year." Barnes paused and gave a slight smile. "I know that sounds like a lot, but take a look at the bottom line of each year. Worthington turns a massive amount of money, so a mere million is hardly worthy of notice. The nice thing is they have been stupid enough to use a bank in the Caribbean which, unknown to most, is a subsidiary of an American bank, so recovery will be quite simple. I suggest that you move swiftly before they have time to discover that you know what they've been doing and try to move the funds they've stashed away. I shall be available for testimony if required.
"As you are now entering the annually recurring period of slower business, I suggest that I be officially 'laid off' as an employee of Worthington. That will attract the least attention and let me keep my cover. That way, no one will have to make any kind of announcement. Now, if there are no questions, I will leave. My statement, less what I was paid as salary, will be sent to your attorney as directed, Mr. Worthington, or is it Harmon, now?"
Danny smiled. "It's now Harmon legally, but Worthington for business purposes."
"I see. Good evening, Sirs. It has been a pleasure."
With Barnes departure, Danny immediately picked up the phone and called his attorney, asking him to begin prosecution of the crooks. As a sign of his effectiveness as a top executive, Danny had the arrests made during business hours and as publicly as possible. Danny addressed as many of his workers as possible in a mass meeting explaining the reason for the arrests and asking that any worker who felt mistreated to come to him directly. The reception of his remarks seemed positive to him and he later heard that the general feeling of his employees, as well as union officials, was that those arrested deserved it and were fools for reaching beyond already generous pay and benefits.
The evening of the official opening of The Worthington House Museum, Danny protested loudly as he and Steve dressed in their tuxedos and completed their final toilet before making the short walk to the house from the guest house they had made into their home. The freshly groomed surfaces sparkled in the low level lighting, revealing rooms and furnishings that looked much as they had when first brought into the mansion. City and university luminaries strutted, peacock proud, craving the publicity sure to follow such a monumental event. Among them, to Danny's surprise, was the governor. Such lavish affairs were few in the mid-sized city; even fewer people had ever been inside the mansion and were intrigued by their luxurious surroundings.
Roberts cut an impressive figure in his formal dress and stately manner. For the wine served, Roberts had carefully chosen from a far lesser vintage in ample supply in the cellar. "Certainly not," he said to Danny, when he questioned the wine chosen, "to serve a finer wine at an occasion of this sort would be casting jewels before swine. The best is reserved for special occasions for you and Mr. Harmon, and your personal guests."
The hors d'oeuvres had been created by the kitchen staff as a farewell gesture to Danny as all of the kitchen personnel were being pensioned off or going to new positions found for them by Roberts with the exception of Head Chef Lang. Though given generous early retirement benefits by Danny, Lang stubbornly insisted that with Roberts new position as head curator of the museum, he would remain on hand to cook for Steve and Danny, now that Steve and Danny had moved into the newly remodeled guest house. "Besides, Sir," Lang said to Danny, "I know there will be a number of special events held in the mansion and who better to create foods for those than I? I may sound a braggart, but I believe I am much better than the caterers in this town. They have little or no imagination." He grinned. "I know this kitchen by heart and I know what you and Mr. Harmon like and don't like, Sir."
For his entire employment, Roberts had lived in a small apartment within the mansion. Chef occupied a spacious apartment over the garage. When Danny inquired of Roberts about moving out of the mansion, Roberts shyly admitted that he and Chef Lang had been secret lovers from virtually the moment Lang had arrived to take up the position as head chef.
"I suppose you wish me to leave now," Roberts said sadly.
"Why? Good heavens, man, what you do in the bedroom is your business. I could not care less as long as you're both happy."
Roberts' normally staid expression eased into a broad smile. "Thank you, Sir. It will be a genuine pleasure to continue to serve you and Mr. Harmon."
"Not us, Roberts. You are curator of an exceptional museum now. That must be given your primary attention. As much as dad and I enjoy the way you pamper us, that's no longer your job."
"Begging your pardon, Sir, but that will always be my job. You own the mansion and, though it's now a museum, it is still your home. Your grandfather was an exceptional employer and I was greatly blessed to have found employment with him. You are following in his footsteps and it is a pleasure to serve you as well."
After his introduction to the guests as head curator of the museum, Roberts gave a tour of the mansion, enjoying pointing out the treasures. An hour or so later, the guests began to filter away until only Danny, Steve, and Danny's godfather remained. Seated in the study before an open fire Roberts had laid, they celebrated the quiet with some of Lang's superb hors d'oeuvres and glasses of a superior wine Roberts had brought up from the cellar.
"I'm proud of the way you handled the firing of those crooks, Danny. Your explanation to the workers was a stroke of genius. It has made them feel more a part of the 'Worthington family' and at the same time established you as a swift acting no nonsense leader."
Danny blushed. "Thanks, Uncle Geoff, but I couldn't have done it without Steve's backing me up."
"I must admit I wondered when you named him your personal assistant since he knew nothing of Worthington Industries, but I bow to your wisdom. Mr. Harmon has learned quickly and advised you well. Now that the board is completely behind you, you can devote the majority of your time to finishing your degree, as well as taking some time off."
"Great! My first months at Worthington have not been the easiest and very time consuming. But I'm using my experiences as the basis for my dissertation, so some good has come out of it."
Gray smiled. "I might have known you would find something positive in a bad situation. Good for you, Son."
Their lives settled into a calm routine. Worthington Industries operating smoothly under the new personnel, Danny's school work was simple to him after having been involved in most of what his text books presented in real life terms. Steve had their personal financial advisor place Danny's and his personal accounts in self-sustaining conservative investments and were enjoying the time to read and participate in the model railroad club's activities.
One evening Danny told Steve he needed a little time to himself and went into his study, uncharacteristically closing the door behind him. After a half-hour or so, he called for Steve to come in.
Steve stopped in the doorway, his mouth open in surprise. For Danny had completed a module. Perched on a heavily wooded hillside by a lake was a perfect scale of the cabin. Smoke rose leisurely from the stone chimney. A man and a boy fished from a skiff in the lake. From time to time, the man would raise his rod and cast. A second later, the boy would lift his arm, a small fish dangling from his line. Near the front edge of the module, a single length of track skirted the lake.
"Damn, Danny! It's perfect! How …, I mean when …"
Danny smiled. "I measured the cabin when we've been up there. I found a log cabin kit and kit-bashed two of them to get the right dimensions. The track is the only thing that isn't a reasonable recreation of the place, but I really wanted to build this model and it's too beautiful not to share, so I added the track."
Steve hugged Danny. "The guys will be crazy about this. I can't believe you even got the chimney to smoke."
Danny grinned. "That was really easy. I used a smoke unit made for an HO locomotive. Worked in perfectly. I just have to remember to put a few drops of the smoke liquid down the chimney once in a while and turn the power on."
"The guys are going to be wild about this. You've got to enter it in the contest at the regional convention."
Danny suddenly grinned. "I'm way too tall to do it now, but I had a nasty idea?"
"What?" Steve asked.
"I'd like to go dirty and dressed in rags just to see if George would yell at me again, so you could tell him I built this module."
"Good Lord, you remember that?"
"I'll never forget it, nor how filthy I was that day. But you took my hand and held it and told George he had a bee up his butt." He hugged Steve tightly. "I get so busy I forget to tell you how much I love you, Dad. Thanks for everything."
"I hate to tell you, Son, but George won't like this module."
"Why?"
Steve smiled. "Because he doesn't think there is any way to model besides fixed home layouts except standard N-trak, and it took forever to convince him that N-trak modular standards were tighter than those for home layouts."
"I thought home layouts could be whatever the builder wanted them to be?"
Steve snickered. "True, but you couldn't convince George of that. I've been waiting for you to discover Free-moN. Now you have and you've done a superb job of it, too. I expect to see this take a prize at the show. It'll also introduce you to a few guys I know also model in Free-moN. It looks as if you followed the few standards they have. Where'd you find them?"
"It took some doing, but I found some information on the net, and one of the guys was kind enough to answer my questions and help me. The more I looked at your double track modules, the more fake they looked, because most of the railroads I've seen have a one track main line and passing tracks where they might be needed. I looked on-line to see if there was something more like I'm used to seeing. Free-mo in N gauge sounded like what I wanted, so I decided to give it a try. This is the result."
At the regional show, Danny and Steve brought in their standard N-trak modules to connect with those of the other club members so there would be a large layout with several trains running at once for visitors to enjoy. Lastly and quietly, Danny brought in his Free-moN module and carried it over to five other Free-moN modules standing against the wall, their owners grousing over not being allowed to connect with the standard N-trak modules, though one of the members had brought a connecting module.
"What have we here?" One of them asked as Danny set his module down.
"What a beauty," another exclaimed. "Who are you?"
"Danny Harmon, Sir. Would it be okay for me to show this with your modules? I was hoping maybe there would be enough to do some operating."
"You try to take that module out of here before the show is over and I'll run you down. That's some of the nicest work I've seen. Hell, I'm ashamed of mine."
"Hey! With this module we would have enough to run trains if we had another turning loop for the other end."
"Yeah, but who has one?"
When there was no answer, Danny said quietly, "I have a basic one I just started in the car. It doesn't have any scenery yet."
"Who cares?" The first man said. "Let's go get it, then we can have some fun."
Just then Steve walked up. "Guys, Arnie's done a connecting module, so if you're running DCC and would like to hook up to the big layout, you're welcome. Trains can run on your modules as locals for switching, since one of you has some industry as a theme."
The first man, having introduced himself as Doug, quickly said, "This is a surprise, being asked to run with the standard modules. They don't usually want us to even set up."
"We will if Arnie will place his module next to yours and mine, Dad. We'll put this module just after the connector so the scenery will be consistent, if these gentlemen have no objections."
"Arnie's already suggested that, son. He's seen this module, too, and his scenery blends well with ours."
Once Danny's loop module was in place and the modules all connected together, the group lined up their personal trains to be run one at a time. Two trains were possible on the Free-moN modules by careful use of a passing track. "Hey, look! Danny's loop is automatic," one cried enthusiastically. The others watched as a train entered the loop and exited in the same direction from which it had entered. The switch track and power polarity had changed automatically.
Though the Free-moN modules took a lot of derision from the diehard standard module fans, the beauty of each module and, especially, Danny's use of animation left a lasting impression. After the judging in which Danny took first place in his division as well as for animation, a judge engaged him in a lengthy conversation as to how he achieved the level and amount of animation on both his standard modules as well as this one.
There was no question that now Danny had gained a small group of friends with similar interests. Steve was pleased for him and invited to join the group also.
His graduation from the university with his doctorate in business, signaled Danny's place as CEO of Worthington Industries. On his first day, to his great astonishment, the employees held a catered reception on the campus-like front lawn in honour of his assuming the position he now held. In a brief extemporaneous talk to his employees, Danny found that he was shedding tears as were a number in the audience. When asked, he replied to them all. "I am deeply touched by your kindness to me and devotion to Worthington. Thank you all, and may God bless."
With the pressure of graduate school past, Danny could spend more time with Steve building modules. By this time they had accumulated enough to set up their own large functioning layout in the basement playroom of the mansion. With all access to the upper floors of the mansion and access to service and utility areas of the basement closed off by the locking of two doors, Steve and Danny enjoyed working on their modules and running trains in private. It was seldom that they actually ran a train, for seeing an older module appearing shabby in comparison to a newer one, they immediately began to refurbish the older one, or rebuild it completely. Most times, Danny could not resist creating new animation to go on the refurbished module.
At one of the meetings of the modular club, the president announced that the group had 30 days in which to find a new meeting place, their present place would no longer be available. General consternation swept through the membership at the thought of trying to find new quarters for they had twice before had to seek out new quarters large enough for the layout created by their modules, not an easy job.
Danny kept his thoughts to himself until he and Steve were on the way home after the meeting. "Dad, what would you think of opening our train room to the club? I mean it's got restrooms and a small kitchen for fixing snacks if we want. It has the outside door we usually use and there's no way they can get into the rest of the house."
Steve smiled. "I might have expected you to come up with this, Danny. There's more than adequate room for the club layout, even if all the members brought modules, but are you willing to give up our space?"
Danny grinned broadly. "Don't you remember that room behind the playroom? It'll hold all the modules you and I have and still have room for more. It's no trouble to move the modules and we can keep it locked unless we want to show the Free-moN guys our whole layout and maybe run with their modules connected in. If anyone else asks what's in there when we're bringing out our modules, we can tell them it's just a storeroom."
"Who gets a key?"
"We have our own keys, of course. I will give one to the security guard and he can let members in as long as they have identification. I know he roves when he's on duty, so they'll have to ring the bell at the gate and I had the intercom reworked so he can use his radio to connect to it. Remind me to have ID cards made up at the plant for the club members."
The members were overjoyed at Danny's announcement. Both he and Steve got a real laugh when George came up to them after the first meeting and said, "Steve, you remember you told me that someday Danny here might be able to buy my shop and all?" George smiles at Danny. "Well, kid, I guess Steve was right. You could buy me out with pocket change if you wanted. I just want you to know how much your kindness and generosity means to us all. And yeah, I quit yelling at kids. Thought you might want to know."
Both men were far more content living in the cosy remodeled guest house than they would have been in the huge mansion. On the few occasions that Steve was called in to consult at Worthington Industries, or would be away for the day, Danny would pull a set of keys from his desk drawer, pin on the museum executive identification badge he wore to prevent questions from new staff, and wander over to the mansion to observe activities and spend time exploring the vast building in depth, something he had wanted to do, but lacked the time for before his retirement.
On this particular morning, he knew that two separate seminars sponsored by the university were taking place. One started an hour later than the other to prevent the mixing of the groups as they toured the rooms; one group studying the architecture, the other interior decorating. Having heard the lecture on architecture several times before, Danny stopped just outside the open door to the former family room, now set up as a classroom, to listen to the interior design presentation.
"I gotta pee-pee, momma," he heard a child say none to softly. Several people sickered.
Danny peeped in to see a little boy of about eight close his book.
"In a minute. I'll take you when the teacher gives us a break. It won't be long." The woman beside him whispered.
"But I gotta go now!" The treble voice exclaimed.
A moment later she came through the doorway holding the little boy's hand. She glanced at Danny's ID tag and asked in an exasperated tone, "Where can I find a restroom? He always picks the worst times possible to have to go."
"Come with me." Danny led them to one of the public restrooms created from the large former downstairs bathroom. As they waited for the child, Danny said, "From what I observed, he's a very nice child."
The boy's mother nodded her head in agreement. "He is. I shouldn't be so impatient, but this seminar is extremely important to me and his babysitter called at the last minute this morning saying she was sick and wouldn't be able to care for him. I had no choice but to bring him. I knew he would get bored and restless, but there wasn't anything else I could do. I suppose I will have to leave, but the material the professor is covering is vital to my grade in this course, and I can't graduate without it." She shook her head. "I just don't know when I'll be able to take this course over. My husband was killed in Iraq and it's just Michael and I. I desperately need to get my degree in Interior Design because we're barely making ends meet as it is, and I have an excellent job opportunity waiting if I graduate this year."
"Is there a problem, madam?" Roberts asks, having come upon them unnoticed.
"I was about to offer to keep her son occupied while she attends her seminar," Danny said.
"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that. And," she shook her head, "I don't know you, sir."
"I assure you that your son will be perfectly safe with Mr. Harmon, madam. I heard you say you needed this seminar to graduate. This way, you can put your full attention on your work without worrying about your son. They will not leave the mansion and I can reach them at any time with the paging system."
Michael exited the restroom with a smile. "Feel better, young man?" Danny asked.
"Yes, sir. I wish I didn't have to go back with mommy and listen to that man talk so much."
"I bet I know something you would like," Danny said, and then whispered something in the boy's ear.
"Oh, yes. Please, mommy, let me go see the surprise this man has."
Roberts smiled broadly. "Do, Madam. Mr. Harmon will enjoy your son's company." He bent down and said to the child, "Enjoy your surprise, Son. Mr. Harmon doesn't show it to people very often, so you must be a very special young man."
Her expression was mixed relief and concern. "I do need to get back to my class. Be sure you behave, Michael." She looked at Danny. "Thank you, Sir."
"Not at all. Roberts will be around. When you want your son, ask him to page me."
Once she had gone back to her seminar, Danny looked at Roberts. "You know where we'll be, but first we're going to the kitchen for our morning treat, aren't we, Mike?"
"Ice cream?" Mike asked wistfully.
Danny smiled. "We'll have to look in the freezer, so let's go."
Mike held Danny's hand as they crossed into the formal dining room and through the swinging door into the butlers pantry and finally the kitchen. Danny stopped a thoughtful look on his face,. "Now where would I be if I was the freezer?"
Mike looked around and walked over the the large side by side combination unit. "I bet this is it." Danny followed and opened the freezer door, then shut it shaking his head. "No ice cream in there. I wonder where it is?" He looked down at Mike's disappointed expression. "Do you see any other freezers around?"
Mike shook his head.
"Do you have any idea where a freezer might be?"
"When we lived in our house with daddy, the big freezer was in the garage Is there one here?" He asked hopefully.
"There's a garage, but it's a long way from the house, so it wouldn't be in there. Anymore ideas?"
"Maybe in the basement?"
"No, that's where the surprise is." Danny paused and looked around. "I wonder what's behind that door over there." He said, pointing to the pantry door. "Why don't you go see, Mike."
The boy darted across the kitchen and pulled the door open. "There's a freezer in here!" He called excitedly.
"You found it! Good." Danny opened the door and took out two of the ice cream sandwiches he kept stocked for himself. "I knew there was some ice cream in here. I hope you like ice cream sandwiches."
"I never had one before."
"It's vanilla ice cream between two chocolate cookies, so I think you'll like it. Come sit on the stool at the bar so you won't get messed up." Danny lifted the child to the seat of the stool, then took the one next to him. He unwrapped the ice cream and placed it in a folded paper napkin, making certain a damp cloth was handy. He then unwrapped his sandwich and they ate slowly, savoring the tasty combination. When they had finished, Mike wiped the child's smeared face clean.
"There you go, big guy. Ready to see the surprise?"
"You bet. Thank you for the ice cream, it was good."
Danny unlocked the door, switched on the lights, and led Mike down the stairs to the basement where he unlocked another door. When he switched on the lights, the child squealed in delight. "Trains!"
"Please don't touch," Danny cautioned, "because if you were to break one, then you couldn't see it run."
He and Steve had left the modules set up for running two trains at once on extended circular tracks. Handing the child a controller, Danny showed him how to adjust the speed and watched the child's expression of delight. A little later he showed Mike the buttons to push to set the animation in motion. Watching the bouncing bundle of excitement brought Danny a feeling of pleasure he'd not felt for some time.
All too soon. Danny's pager beeped. He picked up the wall phone. "Yes, Roberts?"
"- - -"
"Please show her down here. I'll see them out. Thanks."
Moments later Mike's mother entered the playroom. "Look, Mommy!" Mike cried. "He let me run the trains and make things go. He gave me ice cream, too. It was real good."
"That's very nice of Mr. Harmon, Son, but it's time to go home and have some lunch."
Mike's lower lip protruded in a pout. "I don't wanna go home. I wanna stay here and run the trains."
"I know you've had a good time, Son, but Mr. Harmon has things to do and I have a class this afternoon. Say goodbye to Mr. Harmon, now."
Mike stamped his foot. "No!"
Danny bent down to Mike's level and said, "If you go home now, maybe you can start to fix up your train so it looks like mine."
"Don't have a train. I want one for my birthday, but mommy says they cost too much."
"When is your birthday, Son?"
"Tomorrow," his mother answered. "I wish I could afford to get him a sturdy little train set. We don't have much room in our apartment, but the caretaker said he'd put rollers on a piece of plywood so we could keep it under Michael's bed when he's not playing with it."
"Wait here for just a moment, please," Danny told her.
He unlocked the door to the small room where he and Steve did most of the woodwork to construct a module. On a sudden whim one afternoon while he was in the hobby shop, Danny had purchased a few HO beginners train sets and put them away without any particular use in mind. He chose one of the mid-sized sets with a set of switched tracks, knowing it suitable for a twin bed-sized sheet of plywood. Taking it, he relocked the door and went back into the playroom.
"You've been a very nice young man, Mike. Would you like an early birthday present?"
"Oh, yes, Sir!" Mike jumped up and down.
"Then Happy Birthday, Michael." Danny brought the box from behind his back and held it out to Mike.
"Look, mommy, a train! It's bigger than his, too."
"This is so kind of you, Mr. Harmon, but we couldn't possibly accept it. It's way too expensive."
"Nonsense. It's twice the size I model in and useless to me, but it was on sale and I bought it for just such a time as this."
"Please, Mommy. " He turned to Danny and, setting the box down, hugged him. "Thank you, Mister Harmon. I like the train a lot and it was fun running yours."
Danny returned his hug. "You're most welcome, Son. Maybe you can come back sometime. I know. If your mother will give me your address, I'll send you complimentary tickets to the train show that's coming up next month. There will be a lot of trains and some of mine will be there, too."
"Yes!"
"I can't begin to thank you enough, Mr. Harmon. You have been a godsend today and more than generous."
"Think nothing of it. I enjoyed this young man's company immensely. I'll be looking for you at the show." He said, taking the business card she held out.
Once more, with an established routine, time slipped past virtually without notice. It was a sad day for Danny and Steve both when Roberts invited them to meet with him privately in his office in the mansion and asked to retire. Always efficient and loyal, Roberts then introduced a handsome young man with university credentials in museum management he had chosen as his possible replacement.
Danny was quick to return to Roberts a key he had handed in with the other household keys. It was the key to the cabin with a request for Roberts and Lang to use it as often as they wished. With tearful hugs, the elderly man left the office for the spacious apartment he and Lang shared above the six-car garage.
Noticing for the first time the feeble movements and unsteady gait of Roberts, Danny made a phone call from his office the next morning. Within a few days, a stair glide was installed for Roberts' convenience. Danny and Steve marveled at the tender loving care that Lang gave Roberts. They lived out their remaining years happily, taking a few weeks each summer at the cabin.
Danny and Steve remained with Worthington Industries until Steve reached eligibility for retirement. A new, carefully chosen CEO was installed after Danny had Worthington Industries transformed into a public corporation. Before any stock was sold on the market, each employee was given a number of shares based on his years of employment. Many tears were shed by employees when Danny and Steve made it a point to shake hands and say goodbye to each individual. They shed a few of their own before they left for their final years of train shows, module building, and leisure.