Mr. Daark (6)
(Part 6 of 15) They say Wyoming is real, but I’m still suspicious.
6
Jax didn’t go on business trips. He was neither an advertising rep, nor a sales rep, nor was he anyone of great importance to Pax Co. as a whole. The summer after Jax and Daark met in the elevator, Jax’s situation changed this fact.
By then, Jake Jax was nearly eight years old, and he was gradually forgetting about the boogeyman as it became less relevant to his sleep cycle. Daark, as promised, stayed away from Jake, which served to help the Jax keep control of what his family knew or thought about Austin Daark. Jax thought Mr. Daark was wrong about the side effects going away, but it was possible that Jax was too impatient. The bad thoughts began to have longer intervals between each one. Taylor’s job situation had a bleak outlook for the time being, and until she was employed again, the Jax family could expect a steady stream of arguments. Perhaps it was too demanding to ask for the bad thoughts to go away entirely. But the issue with Jax thinking of Daark too much shrank as Jax gained more control of himself. The problem of thoughts still existed, but Taylor either didn’t notice or pretended not to notice. Jax could work around this fact, seeing that it originated as a catalyst for their main arguments.
Daark’s negotiations raged on, but the men and women of Pax Co. were breaking down. They didn’t like his numbers or the executive positions he asked for, but Daark could outlast them. Mr. Daark possessed all the vigor and energy they did not, which amounted to a fatal strategy against Pax Co’s hierarchy. Every day, he asked for something new, a new delegated power, position, or change to an originally agreed upon condition. They always refused. His power was building, and they needed to cut off his tap. Unfortunately, this refusal took all day to speak over until it was either close to being handed over or rejected completely. When it was rejected, the proposition hardly mattered to Daark at all; it was argued for arguments sake. So, when the day came around, Daark closed the deal from the previous day and started his next argument. Ironically enough, if they had agreed to Daark’s earlier changes rather than debated them, they could have cut his tap. Mr. Daark knew exactly what the people in the meeting room thought they knew about him. They assumed he would be shyer; someone they could bully or cut off at will. This was why their strategy failed. They believed he would settle when they said no, and that he would submit to their implied authority.
Over time, negotiating became easier for Daark, and he was able to slide little privileges into his own hands with as much effort as asking for them. He wanted a “business trip” to his family farm in Wyoming with a team of his own choosing. This team wasn’t a team at all, it was Jax the accountant and no one else. Daark had no need of explaining himself; everyone was just glad to keep their jobs another day. They envisioned the future as an eggshell road to hell. They would balance across the road to please Daark and still end up in the worst possible position. The energy surrounding Austin Daark’s name faded now that their candy-land dreams were revealed to be what they were: just dreams.
Aaron Jax struggled to wrap his mind around the business trip proposition.
“Well, don’t lose your mind over it, it’s Wyoming,” Daark said. “If you drive in, the first McDonalds is a quarter mile away from the county jail.”
“But still, what am I going to do there? I’m not the business trip guy.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ll just be the nonthreatening businessman. I picked you strategically for how you look and act. Out at my family’s farm, most folks are simple, or at least, they act simple to get out of hard work. Then, there’s Wyatt Emerson. He’s the prideful one that thinks he came from old Ralph Waldo Emerson. Supposedly, that makes him the smart one, but smart on my farm ain’t exactly Harvard grad material. Wyatt’s doing good to get a hundred on the IQ test. Either way, there’s no way a Massachusetts philosopher copulated enough to get a descendant in the Midwest. All this aside, Wyatt’s belief in his own intelligence leads him to analyze everything like a rural Sherlock Holmes. So, when you pack your clothes, you’ll bring dress shirts and blue jeans, but no ties or suits.”
“How are blue jeans professional enough for this kind of thing?”
Daark lightly touched Jax’s shoulder. “Clothing standards come from environment. You wear a suit here because you work inside, away from all the dirt. Blue jeans are working clothes. They’re tear resistant and dirt stains come out easier. Suits only come out when someone dies. If this goes well, no one has to dig in their closet for a black suit.”
“Wait.”
“Don’t worry about that now. Pack your bags. We’re leaving Monday and coming back Friday.”
Jax almost protested that he had a life outside of work and a family to support, but he quickly closed his mouth. All sales were final with Mr. Daark, and no personal conflict could deter him from his goals. Besides, what harm could a week away from home do?