The Devil's Axe

The Devil’s Axe

By B.D. Adams

©2010

    Fred traveled through the downtown, headed to an interview for his first, real job as an accountant ... no more temp-work. His car was a ten-year-old Chrysler sedan, but it should get him to and from this interview. It was autumn, but his driver’s window was opened for the air (he was so nervous) and it was warm today.
    This interview would be with one of the prestigious accounting firms in the Mid-west ... hell ... in the US ... S, B & L, Inc! He couldn’t find out what the initials meant.
    But, nonetheless, he was armed with the ammo needed to punch for a knock-out interview!! He would dazzle Mr. ... Mr. Shit ... what was that guy’s name? He was stopped at a light and frantically opened his briefcase to get that paper with the guy’s name. Not good to forget an important name at this time!
    “Mr. Rogi! Eugene Rogi,” Fred read out-loud. He smiled to himself, as he replaced the paper. Traffic moved again.
    Fred’s trek took him to an old, albeit classy, Victorian home, like the many that edged the downtown proper. You wouldn’t think that an Accounting Firm, with the accreditations he had discovered, would be in such a small building. There had to be another building where the actual work would be preformed.
    He entered the driveway, as instructed by the woman who called him for the appointment, and parked at the spot labeled “Visitor” near to the steps of the porch.
    Fred tapped out a Tic-Tac to eat, exited his car and grabbed his suit coat to spruce up his appearance. He took a moment to open his briefcase to check that he had all he needed, like extra résumés. Satisfied, he donned his coat, checked his tie in the side-mirror, closed and removed the briefcase, locked the car door, and then proceeded to the door on the porch that was plainly labeled “Entrance.”
    The door was on a wide porch that appeared to go around the house, like if you were at your grandma’s house in the country. It almost made him feel ... fuzzy. There was a doorbell button, which he pushed.
    Within moments, the door was opened. “Mr. Duncan?” the woman asked with a pleasant grin. She was an older woman, but not unattractive. Her attire was current and professional. Her gray hair was styled in a French-bun and her make-up was pleasing ... not old-woman gaudy.
    “Yes, ma’am,” Fred acknowledged. He was so glad that she didn’t look like the “Wicked Witch of the West,” or Norman Bates’ mom!
    She closed the heavy door and waited for him to face her. “My name’s Ruth,” she stated with a small smile. “Please be seated ... Mr. Rogi will be with you shortly.” Ruth climbed the curved stairway, out of his sight, so he waited.
    The house was two floors, with very high ceilings. The room, where he was to wait, was the curved part of the building’s turret. It had a ceiling that went all the way to the top of the second floor. The antiqued windows let in more than enough natural light! The curved stairway was lined with some beautiful paintings ... and the lighting fixtures looked vintage and very lovely ... and expensive, to boot! He liked when he saw “money!” Fred sat on one of the brocade clothed benches, with Queen Ann legs. He waited.
    Fred noticed there was a dimly lighted hallway that went all the way to the main door of the house ... no movement down there, either. The house was nice and warm. He almost wanted to take a nap ... the small water feature, placed in the middle of the room, had a relaxing, rhythmic sound which caused this feeling. Fred decided that it wouldn’t hurt if he closed his eyes for just a moment ... just a moment ...
    Startled ... he opened his eyes to see an old fellow who stood in front of him! The old man was shorter than him and a bit rotund. He had no hair and looked at him through thick lensed glasses.
    “I apologize ... ,” Fred spoke quickly. He stood just as quickly! Actually, he was glad for this sleep interruption because the dream he was having was ... weird ... even for him.
    “Don’t worry about it, young man,” the man said with a grin. “I’m Rogi. Follow me, please.”
    Fred felt so embarrassed! How could he have fallen asleep at an interview?!
    Mr. Rogi led him to the same floor Ruth had gone, but she was not seen in the grand hallway at the top of the stairs. Then, Mr. Rogi opened a door and invited Fred to enter.
    This was a “working room.” There were many files in boxes and many more files that just lay around loose. All the flat surfaces were ... cluttered. This old man obviously did a lot of work!
    Fred decided he liked this round, old man. This was what he could aspire to! He just hoped he didn’t go bald. He grinned to himself.
    Mr. Rogi went behind his desk, as he motioned to Fred to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Mr. Rogi grabbed two sheets of paper from one of the piles of paper on his desk, as he took his chair. He sat back in his high-backed chair to scrutinize what he read.
    Fred sat in a chair to Mr. Rogi’s left, so he could place his briefcase on the other one to access, if needed.
    It took some time for Mr. Rogi to respond to Fred, so he offered, “My grades were not the best, but I did pass the CPA Exam ... not an easy test, as I’m sure you know.” He felt he had to state that fact a soon as possible.
    Mr. Rogi just looked at Fred over his glasses and grinned an answering grin. There were no words. Fred decided he should just sit quietly.
    After a few moments, Mr. Rogi set down the papers and placed his pudgy fingers intertwined on his stomach. He coolly observed Fred.
    “You’re a young man. Why get into accounting?” Mr. Rogi asked succinctly.
    Fred had to think about this because he had thought once that being a gigolo would be the way to go ... a “kept man.” However, he decided that was not a good analogy, so he said, “Well, I enjoy working with numbers and large amounts of money. Not my money, but someone else’s money ... make everything balance.” He smiled sincerely.
    “Most of our clients are attorneys ... one specific law firm. Any problems with that vocation?” Mr Rogi asked specifically.
    “None that I can think of,” Fred answered calmly. The truth was that he hated lawyers, but he would love them to death if he got this job!
    Mr. Rogi just nodded, and then asked, “What’s more fun to you ... getting paid or partying?” He stared at Fred’s dark brown eyes with his very light blue eyes.
    Fred realized that they had done research on him. He’d have to answer this one better than the last question.
    “Mr. Rogi ... my partying days are behind me ... like college. My life now is getting paid to do a job that I’ve been trained to do.” Fred was very proud of this answer.
    Mr. Rogi was pleased with this answer, as well. He smiled at Fred, and then reached for his telephone to push a button ... possibly an intercom button.
    “Don’t worry, young man ... you have the position,” Mr. Rogi smiled.  Presently, Ruth entered.  “Ruth will see you out. I will be in touch in a few days,” assured Mr. Rogi. "I need to get some forms together for you to sign ... a few employment forms. Welcome aboard.”
    “Thank you, sir!” Fred gathered his briefcase, shook Mr. Rogi’s hand and exited with Ruth. Fred felt like he missed something ... it couldn’t be that easy!
    When he got back outside, Fred almost clicked his heels as he celebrated. He’d get hold of Cynthia when he got home so they could do some real celebrating! He was elated!!


    Rogi sat back in his chair as the door was closed tightly. The light in the office dimmed and a dark amber hue became evident.
    Presently, two definite protrusions showed on both sides of Rogi’s forehead ... he loosened his tie, as he stood to address his ... boss.
    “Eugene,” a deep, guttural voice was heard. There was no body ... just a deep masculine voice.
    “Yes, sire,” Rogi greeted.
    “What do you think of him?” the boss asked. “Do you think he’ll be hard to turn?”
    “He’s a risk ... still has family, but he is ... a rogue. He’s driven by female flesh ... which is a plus,” Rogi established. “He hates lawyers, but he’s so desperate ... don’t worry.”
    “Desperate enough?” the voice prodded.
    “Oh, I’m sure of it. He was still thinking about being a gigolo,” Rogi said with a wry smile. “I know the right Vixen for him.” Rogi licked his lips at the thought of “her.”
    The room began to become dark, as the voice stated, “Very good ... get his signature ... work a spell, if he balks about the blood! His blood will make him ours for eternity!”
    Rogi just nodded and the room went dark.

Be careful with that Axe, Eugene!!

**Pink Floyd**