An Orange for You and Me

The sweet and tangy smell of oranges rushes into my nostrils, as I walk towards the skinny glass doors. My right foot enters first; it hits the clean tiled floor, as a wave of cool air hits my body. There is a sign above me glistening in the fluorescent lights of the dirt free lobby. It is held by a newly bought white string, that is tied up somewhere in the ceiling. In big bold black letters it reads, “Bring Your Kid to Work Day”, I read each letter as if I am trying to figure out what it means. I groan, I totally forgot it was today, now I have to meet little kids. Then I think, why didn’t I bring my kids? I mean even if I asked my kids to come they would have probably said no. Who in their right mind would want to spend a day with their father? Discarding the thought, I look around at the familiar dust-free pictures dangling on the walls, then walk over to one and tilt it so it is level. Past my secretary’s office, I go to the elevator, because climbing up stairs is bad for the joints.
My finger presses the 5 button, and the elevator lungs upwards. The doors automatically open and I step out, then take a right and reach my office door, I open it. The sunlight shines off my glass desk directly in front of me, and flat screen television hanging on the right wall. My black leather chair sleeps right in front of the floor to ceiling windows, waiting for me to wake it up, it is cool to the touch, as I sit down in it and stare out the windows.
The vast orange farm spreads out for twenty acres, with healthy trees growing all around. Forklifts run full wooden boxes down the dirt paths to the warehouse. The massive warehouse is where my company processes the oranges for transportation to various markets and stores . I lounge in my office staring down on the vast open fields of orange trees. My attention is taken away from a shocking ring in my ear from my cell phone, so I turn around, reach for it on my desk, and answer.

“This is David Stark.” I state.
It’s my wife Hailey, “Hey honey listen, I’m going out with my girlfriends tonight, and Amanda is going to her boyfriend’s house, so it will be you and Logan alone at dinner.”
“Okay sound good, I’ll stop at McDonalds for a quick and easy dinner.”
I hang up, then sit back in my black-leather office chair. I put my feet up, onto my glass desk carefully, next to my name plate, which reads, David Stark CEO of Oranges Are Us. My mouth opens wide as I yawn. Its noon and I just got to work; it’s surprising that I am tired already. To prevent myself from falling asleep, I take out my sapphire crystal key fob to my new 2013 Aston Martin Rapide, and I start to toss it up towards the ceiling then catching it as it comes down. After a few throws, I realize I have some papers that need to be taken care of, but I dismiss the thought of actually having to do work.
After I got bored with my key fob, I open my briefcase that is shinny black with gold plated edges and lock. I take out my Queen CD and I slide it into my stereo system next to my television, and crank the volume. My music is a way for me to get away, to get away from my hard life. The life of a CEO isn’t easy, it is all business with papers, meetings, and managing the company, it’s not all fun and games. Especially my company, the one I started from the ground up, there are papers I have to sign and sometimes my hand get cramped. Sure I might have done some bad things to in the position where I am right now, for example I employed illegal immigrants that would work for two dollars an hour just so I would get more money, but that is all behind me. I own a big house, nice cars, and a company, what more could a guy ask for?
My business phone begins to ring, which ruins the drum solo in the song I am listening to. I paused the music and press the button for speaker.
“This is David Stark.” I state.
“Hello Mr. Stark, how is your day going?” It’s my secretary Lisa.
“I am doing alright Lisa, what do you need?”
“I have some papers that need your signature, and I was calling to suggest that you come and see some of the employee’s children, it is bring your child to work day sir.”
“I am aware of that. I will be down in a bit, for the papers and to see some kids I guess.”
I press the end call button, turn my music back on, and then think about my kids. Amanda my daughter is almost eighteen now, and going to enter her senior year of high school, but she doesn’t even know if she wants to go to college yet. We have talked about it for a little bit, but she is always so busy with that bad-boy boyfriend of hers. Hailey and I want her to go to college so bad, but I guess it is her decision to make.
Then there is son Logan, he is seventeen. He has never had a job before, he has never worked for his money, and all he does all day every day is sit around the house doing nothing. I told him he should get a job, but he still hasn’t even tried, I don’t know what else to do. Logan is an irresponsible, out of shape teen, who couldn’t live without me, my house, or my money.
After two more songs I get up off my chair, and go to my personal bathroom—being the CEO I get my own bathroom. I gaze in the mirror and check if my hair is flat with no imperfections. I check the sides of my head, and notice some grey hairs sprouting out of the light brown hair I am so used to seeing. Also, I feel more and more skin on the top of my head as I brush my hair with my fingers. I notice that I am like an adolescent car, I still run fine, but now I am starting to have a few problems under the hood. Traveling down, my white teeth shin in the light as I inspect them for any food wedged between them. Continuing to travel down my body, my hands run down my carbon black suit, which looks fine. It is pressed tightly against my belly, and it is a little small, but it still looks good enough.
After deciding I look good enough for my employees, I go down the elevator. I reach the base floor, step out of the elevator and see no body. I walk to Lisa’s office.
“Where is everybody Lisa?”
“They are all taking a tour of the warehouse. Oh before I forget here are those papers you wanted.”
“Give them to me later; I’m going to go see the children.”
“Oh, okay whatever you want Mr. Stark.”
The glass doors fly open, as I walk outside. The sweet smell of fresh oranges hits my nose, and I say to myself, “Man that never gets old.”
After the wave hit me, I move towards the warehouse. Still, I see some people working; I infer they must be the young ones who don’t have kids. Kids, thinking to myself, the most prized possessions for a mother or father, yeah right; I’ve heard that one before. My kids don’t like spending time with me, and I try to do activities but usually I am too busy. I see them at dinner, but we don’t really talk. Thinking to myself, whatever, let’s just get this over with.
The warehouse’s white metal siding is thirty feet tall, with the gigantic “Oranges Are Us” sign along with the logo at the top. I enter the warehouse and there everyone is. Martin Gomez—head of orange picking—is the one giving the tour. He stops in the middle of his sentence and says, “Excuse me everyone, here is the man who started this business from the ground up, David Stark!”
Everyone turns to look at me, I give a head to everyone and say hello. Then I start the grueling practice of going around to every employee and their kid. The parents of the kids have smiles covering their faces, and they talk my ear off about how grateful they are, and the kids are laughing and grinning as I tell them I am the boss of the company.
I finally reach Martin; he is waiting patiently with his young boy. My eyes focus on Martin, his short dark brown hair is matched with thick grey hair on the sides right below his hat. His dark skin and brown eyes glisten in the warehouse light. His son has medium long dark brown hair, the same color as his father’s, his skin is a bit lighter than Martin’s, but his eyes are the same color. The little boy is reaching up grasping the hand of his father, and Martin is cradling his hand right back. I focus on their clothes. Martin is wearing working clothes, the company hat, which is white with orange brim. It has turned a brownish white from all the dirt, sweat, and dust. His shirt is a red and black plaid shirt, and it is tucked into his torn light blue jeans, and rugged light brown work boots.
I look at his kid. He is wearing the nicest clothes he could find: a light blue button down that is tucked into his newly bought dark blue jeans. His shoes are blue and white sneakers that look fairly new, but I bet are his nicest shoes. His hair looks nice, like he actually combed it. I think of how Logan would look with his nicest clothes on and actually acting like a gentleman and not like the slob he is now. My mouth grins as I think of the image in my mind, and how I wish my son was like that. Then I come back to reality, and I walk over to the two. Martin sees me coming and quickly fixes his clothes, then examines his son’s clothes. He starts to run his fingers through his son’s hair trying to make it look perfect for me. My mouth shuts as I witness this happen, and I think, here is a man that wants to make his son look good for everyone else, and he wants nothing else other than his son to look good.
I stop in front of them, and shake Martin’s hand. His eyes have a look of excitement in them, but also some fear. Maybe he fears me? Maybe he has feared if he doesn’t impress me I will fire him, but I stop thinking about it. My eyes travel towards his son, who is half hidden behind his dad’s left leg. I kneel down so I am eye level with his son. He looks scared of me, but I bust through his invisible wall and I greet him. He peeps a little hello, so I just smile back and stand up. I give Martin a fair-well hand shake, then turn around and quickly walk to the door.
As I walk back I over hear Martin saying to his son, “You were great! How ‘bout I take you out for some lunch after this?”
I don’t hear words from his son, but as I look back he has a smile covering his face as his head shakes violently up and down. Maybe this is what I am missing with my kids; maybe all I need to do is spend time with them and try to love them.
Reaching the door, I walk out, and the scent hits me again, I then begin to jog to my office. The glass doors are still shinny, as I open them to the office building. The sign that reads “Bring Your Kid to Work Day” is still up hanging strong from the white rope, as I pass it I jump and try to touch it, and I hit it, this makes me grin. I pass Lisa’s office she notices me.
She yells, “Mr. Stark I have those papers still!”
“Give them to me later Lisa; I am busy at the moment!” I repeat back to her.
I barge through the stairs door, and I jog up the stairs, not even realizing it. I clear the stairs in record time, and I barge into my office. I almost fly into my office chair, while simultaneously grabbing my phone and dialing Logan.
He answers and I say, “Hey Logan, looks like it is you and me tonight for dinner, I was thinking we should go out for burgers and milkshakes tonight. What do you say?”
“Sure dad, what’s the occasion?”
“Nothing just wanted to take you out somewhere for fun!”
“Okay dad, that sounds fun, I’ll see you later.”
We hang up, and I take a deep breath and lay back in my chair thinking, that was pretty easy, maybe this whole dad thing isn’t that hard after all.