A BOOKKEEPER’S DREAM

Henry Huber sat on a three-legged stool waiting for a cue from the stage manager to close the stage curtain. As it was flashed he hit the buttons that closed the main curtain to thundering applause. Not for him of course, Henry never got any applause in his entire life. He smiled as the actors raced by him, doubting that any of them even saw him waving at them. Henry then hit the house lights and a tape recording of some music as the standing room only crowded drifted toward the exits.

Over in the actors dressing rooms some champagne bottles popped as the cast and crew joined to have a final cast party. Henry was of course part of the crew, but being almost sixty, he naturally felt out of place. Some of the actors spoke to him, even some of the pretty actresses, but they never called him by name. He spent most of his time back somewhere in the shadows. Oh, there was a time when he first joined the Community Theatre that he had hopes of landing a role in one of the plays. It never happened so he just drifted towards the lighting and sound crew. There were a few men like him in the bunch, but he never got very friendly with them. Hell…it had always been that way. As a young kid he was the chubby kid that most of the kids ignored. You remember…the last kid to be picked…things like that. He never seemed to have a real pal, and as he thinned down and went on to college…very little changed. Another strike against him was that math came easy to him and he breezed right through accounting in college. He soon learned that the average kid did not like a smart kid. Now what had really changed? The company where he worked pretty much treated him as the old bookkeeper that he was. Nothing changed. He never married, rarely even talked to a woman. Life was not very good for Henry Huber.

During the off season he still volunteered to help at not only the Community Theatre but the Stock Company that put on wonderful shows in a tent out in the park. There was a lot of work to do there, and Henry thrived doing it. His job consisted of forty hours or so of doing boring bookkeeping work. Now this was back when the computer was some massive machine off somewhere in a big city. Most of what Henry was doing would soon be obsolete and he was not certain that he could adopt or adjust to what was coming down the Pike…and that was a world of computers. Oh, not to worry. Henry was a ‘tight-wad’ as some of his co-workers used to call him. He considered himself efficient and spent only the money he had to. Also for many years he had a small scheme that he had worked on for almost thirty-five years. It was dishonest of course, but Henry rationalized that the company owed him a bit more money, and once he decided to proceed he never looked back.

He had branched out over to make-up and loved taking a normal actor and turning him into a very old man or woman. He simply loved doing his job. Here he got to talk to the actor who sat patiently maybe for over an hour or so as Henry’s expert hands turned the actor into the role the writers called for. As part of his scheme he took every free acting class that was offered, and on a few occasions when an old man was called up for a minor role, Henry gleefully stepped in. He assisted the directors, supervised the other make-up artists and ingratiated himself into everything he could find to do. When the winter season came around he was considered a valuable crew member in the Community Theatre. He got virtually no attention at work…little respect as well…it was only his theatre work that kept him believing that he was indeed a valuable individual.

Secretly Henry loved to take the show’s star role and appear on the stage. He was in full make-up and as he walked out on the empty stage staring out at the darkened theatre seats. “So folks, you liked that huh? Well, stick around, ‘you ain’t heard nothin’ yet. Do you remember the Broadway show ‘Music Man’? Well, meet Professor Harold Hill, class of ’05.” With that Henry would burst into two or three songs from the show. He would rush off the stage, hit the curtain button. Wait a few moments then rush back on the stage for his encore. He loved his little moment in the bright lights. Hell…he thought had they given him a chance a few years ago he would probably be on Broadway today. A chance…that is all he ever asked for but it never came. THE OFFICE DREAMER

Every morning for almost thirty-five years Henry would drive one dilapidated old car or the other to work. He parked around back of his office building, tired of the remarks about his ‘junk heaps.’ He opened the rear door, looked up at the clock and smiled as the clock surely as old as he struck 6:00 AM. He headed for the small kitchen where he brewed an entire pot of coffee. He often wondered if the other employees thought a damn spirit brewed the coffee for them. At any rate no one ever in all those years ever came up to him and thanked him for his coffee making. He glanced through the paper until the coffee was brewed. He poured three full cups into his thermos and walked off to his small office on the third floor of the building. He clicked on the lights, tossed his jacket at a chair and sat down sipping on his coffee. He looked at his in-box which was always full and put his feet up on his desk. This was his favorite time of the day. Not a soul would enter the building until almost eight o’clock. He put the cap on his thermos and leaned back in his desk chair. Actually he had no reason to nap…he slept quite well, thank you. But it was a habit he had gotten into over twenty-years ago. It was only the last year or so that his recurring dream began to focus on his conscious brain, so to satisfy that need…he took his little twenty minute nap assured that he would be satisfied with his wonderful dream.

The dream always began with Henry walking along the beach on some tropical island. As far as he could see the white sand beckoned him as he waded bare-footed watching the waves break over his feet. The balmy breeze tickled the palm trees and in response they rustled their leaves in contentment. He wore the same red swimming trunks and his solid, tan body moved along with grace and controlled power. He was an Adonis and the sea gulls swooped in as close as they could to get a better look at him. Suddenly there she was! She was always there, maybe a hundred yards down the beach. And…as always, she was alone just waiting for him. The moment she saw him she came running toward him. Nude from the waist up, a small yellow skirt covered her slim hips. As she neared Henry held out his arms and soon they were kissing, her long brown hair blowing in the easy wind. “Henry…Henry my love you’ve come back!”

Suddenly he was awake. The dream had aroused him and he looked about wondering where he was. He could still smell her perfume, feel her lips on his. He dropped his feet to the floor and a flood of stinging pain came to him. His left leg was asleep and he rubbed it vigorously to restore the feeling in it. He was up and walking now drinking his final cup of coffee. At around eight his telephone rang, which was a rare occasion in Henry’s office. “Henry…Nonnie, Mr. Watkins will see you at ten…okay?”

“Sure…fine, thanks Nonnie, ten it is.”

Over the years Henry got to see the president of the company at the Christmas party, but rarely got to talk to him. He had the six month meetings with him, but it was all figures, certainly no personal talk. He stood trying to remember where the damned office was. Everyone moved around but him. They did paint Henry’s office three years ago but they did not ask him what color he preferred.

“Nonnie smiled, “Right on time Henry…as usual. Go on in.”

“Henry…my God has six months gone by so soon?”

“Yes sir, Mr. President, time rolls on. I think you will find all these figures to your liking.”

“I am sure I will Henry. You and I started here the same month…I shudder to think where we would be today without your bookkeeping skills.”

“Thank you sir…I appreciate that.”

Mr. Watkins fired up his big cigar. Years ago he quit offering Henry one since he refused over the years. Through a cloud of smoke Henry handed the president the folder with the company’s bottom dollar figures. Watkins sat silently flipping through the pages. Henry looked around the office. He sat waiting for the same stupid questions the old man always asked.

“Henry, are we carefully scrutinizing those exorbitant expense sheets our salesman are turning in?”

“Yes sir…I certainly am.”

“Our overall expenses…are we doing all we can to keep them in check Henry”

“Yes sir, Mr. President we certainly are keeping them in check.”

“Good. Fine job Henry, I have no idea what I would do without you. Fine job!”

“Thank you, sir.”

Henry smiled and took the ledgers from the president. He walked into his office and tossed them on his desk. “Thank you Mr. President, oh, yes sir Mr. President. Why in the hell don’t I wash his feet next time I go in there?” Henry went down the hall to the break room for a Coke. “One day,” he said to himself…“There will be a day for me.”

Henry was in a foul mood once he flipped over his calendar to see a note written there in his own handwriting. ‘Thirty-five years today.’ Now he did not expect a brass band and naked dancing girls, but he thought maybe his boss would have a card on his desk…even a little money in it…something… but nothing happened. All that kind of disappointment did over the years was strengthen his resolve to keep his little scheme working until the day he could finally break away from this place. Happy and fully compensated…now that and the lady on the beach were his dreams…dreams now…but not far down the Pike he would see them all come true. HENRY’S POT OF GOLD

Henry never liked the word ‘embezzler’ although that was precisely what he was. Almost from the first year as the company’s bookkeeper he began a systematic raiding on the thirty-four accounts he was in charge of. Mind you we are talking nickels and dimes. Henry was no fool. At the most he garnered about $4,000 a year. That was spread over all of his accounts and with virtually no supervision it was a piece of cake for Henry. Oh, there were audits, but Henry was an expert at concealment and never once did they even come close to unlocking Henry’s elaborate accounting scheme. As the accounts changed over the years, Henry merely made a few adjustments here and there. He was tempted to take more but he never did. Greed was not part of his nature. Once he had accumulated some money he made a few shrewd investments, later he bought annuities, CD’s and along with something new called an IRA why he accumulated to date $207,341.42. That may not mean a fortune to some men but to Henry it was. That along with his salary which was not part of that figure and frugal living, he was left in a very stable financial condition.

He rarely took a vacation out of the city and his sick days had accumulated as well. He would be fine. When he went seeking his sunny island somewhere in this big world he would make the perfect choice. He meant to spend at least a decade trying to forget the miserable life he had endured.

Every year Henry made the trip to Eureka, Illinois and Lincoln, Illinois to talk to his bankers and make new investments. He had his savings and checking accounts in Peoria, Illinois but they were always rather low compared to his hidden fortune. He had spent years accumulating his nest egg, and now that he was about to benefit from all his efforts he was even more cautious. With the accounting system reverting to computers he knew it was time to get out.

His fantasies led him to devise ways for his disappearance. He could go on a fishing trip and just disappear. Ice fishing…poor Henry must have fallen into the water. Silly things like that. He did fear the IRS so if he could arrange to get all of his money out of the banks, elaborately plan his fake death…why hell…that would do it. Like most of Henry’s dreams they all faded away. No he would stick to his idea about going to an island. He was looking into an island that the USA did not have a treaty with…that might work. Then one day while working with three young actors over at Corn Stock Theatre, the tent folks, the idea came to him in a flash.

HENRY’S FIRST STEP

Henry Huber sat in front of the president’s desk waiting for his boss to get off the phone. “Henry…don’t tell me six months have passed so quickly? “No sir, this is something personal that I wanted to talk to you about it. I know this is rather sudden but I have decided to retire.”

Mr. Watkins stared at his old friend. “Retire? Henry I thought that you and I would one day retire at the same time. Are you ill?”

“I do have a bit of a stomach problem…my doctor advised me that I should relax more. But I just feel it is time to go. I want to do a bit of traveling while I still can.”

“I don’t blame you, Henry…I surely don’t. Have you picked a date to leave?”

“Well, sir, the annual audit is due in thirty-eight days. I thought I would see us through that and then leave the next day. Does that sound okay with you?”

“Fine…fine Henry. That would give us time to find a replacement…not that we ever could. You have been a part of this place…and me…for thirty-five years. Who knows, I may follow you rather quickly.”

“Speaking of replacement I was hoping that finding that man or woman would be my sole responsibility. It costs to hire head hunters so I wonder if you would allow me to do that. I would of course train that person and I do know that we need someone with some computer skills, because I fear that I am also becoming obsolete.”

“Why that is admiral, Henry, I will clear that with the HR people and it will be your baby. No one will miss you more than me Henry. FULL STEAM AHEAD

Monday the calls began to come to Henry’s phone concerning the ad he had placed in several newspapers locally and in some of the larger cities in Illinois. He moved out of his office for a few days after he got permission to have it brightened up a bit for the new candidates to consider. The shock of his old run down digs would scare away even the most eager candidate.

He quickly went through the applicants selecting ten to interview. They were excellent people and although he thought a couple of the women would have been perfect employees he knew he could only select a man.

Finally the interviews were over and Henry reported to his boss.

“You know Mr. President I really enjoyed this process. I must say that there are some brilliant people out there. I realized now that I should have given this job up a few years ago.”

“Nonsense Henry. This company thrived because of your steady hand. So did you select someone?” “I did…he is a graduate from Northwestern and is a CPA. He has no family other than his aging mother and worked at his last job up in Chicago for over twenty years. He would never consider Peoria but he wants to come down and buy a house and move his mother in with him. He wants to give a three-week notice and he could start right on the time table we have set. I hope you like him.”

“I am sure I will. Thank you again Henry…is it okay if I tell the board what is happening?”

“Sure…and thank you for letting me conclude this on my own.”

THE WINNER IS

Henry spent an hour or so completing his makeup. He had his right shoe built up with an orthotic device so that it made him limp slightly. His left shoe had a built in lift which smaller men often used to grow a bit overnight. He remembered a friend of his as a kid had a ‘Club foot,’ and that and a cane made his character even more authentic. He spent a little too much money on the wig, but all the rest he did right there in front of his large mirror at home. The rimmed glasses went well with the small mustache and finally Henry was satisfied. He grinned into the mirror: “Hello there Mr. Carl W. Schmidt…welcome to the company. I hope you are as popular as Henry Huber.” He had the very slight German accident down perfectly since he played the part of a German butler in one of Corn Stock’s plays.

That Monday Henry was waiting for Mr. Watkins to come into his office. He stood as the president waved him in. “Come on in Henry, Nonnie will soon have us a cup of coffee. So you are just about set to go?”

“Almost. First I want to play a little game with you…if that’s okay. "

“Good way to start off the morning. Whatcha’ got?”

Henry handed four completed applications over to his old friend. “I want you to pick the one you would have chosen. My choice is among those four.”

Watkins smiled and sat down. As he sat pondering the applications Nonnie served the coffee. A full five minutes later the president handed his selection over to Henry. “Mr. Schmidt is head and shoulders above the others, Henry”

“I agree. The wonderful thing is sir, that Carl will need virtually no training. I may have to show him the men’s room and where the best places to eat, but now get this. His company designed the very accounting system we have in place. In fact he told me that he was here twelve years ago explaining the system to us. Now that is what I call very good luck.”

“Indeed it is. Now Henry I know you don’t want this…but I insist. We will have a nice dinner for you at The Barracks and we will say some nice things about you. Would you like to have Schmidt there?”

“I got the invitation and I thank you. I did call Carl but he will not be here until Monday after the party. When he flies in Sunday I will bring him over and walk him through the building. He is such a bright guy he probably still remembers the layout.”

Mr. Watkins laughed. “Well, Henry, I guess this is our last meeting. I cannot praise you enough for your service and your undying loyalty and friendship. God Bless you Henry Huber you will be sorely missed.” The two old friends shook hands and Henry left. He had a flash of guilty feelings but by the time he was back in his office they were gone.

A week earlier Henry Huber in full make-up as Carl W. Schmidt had

rented a small apartment by paying one month’s rent in advance. He had given Henry Huber’s name as a reference and moved in a few essentials into the furnished apartment. He told Mrs. Lyons, the landlady that he would need the place until he found a house in Peoria for himself and his mother. God…what a starring role he played. Henry went back to his home and continued his packing. He would rent a small trailer for his car to pull and take everything he did not need over to the Salvation Army.

The only thing he would leave would be his bed since he would stay in his house the night before he would drive off to Florida. He would leave some other things including the bed for the folks that bought his house. Just for fun he hid two fifty dollar bills as a surprise. From there he would select his Island and never look back. Everything was ready.

The night of the retirement party went rather well. People that rarely spoke to him in over twenty-years shook his hand. They kidded him about going off to an island somewhere and begged him to send them a post card. A couple big wigs said some nice things to him from the dais and soon it was over. They gave him a nice watch and five hundred dollars in cash that they had collected from everyone and the night was over. He was called upon to make a speech which lasted about one minute. Thank God it was over.

WELCOME CARL SCHMIDT

Henry left his rented apartment and headed for work in a rented car. He walked into the old building and headed directly for Mr. Watson’s office. Nonnie stood and put out her hand. “Good morning, Mr. Schmidt, welcome to the company. I hope you have a long and enjoyable career with us.”

“Thank you Nonnie, Henry spoke about you many times. He told me that it was you that ran this company.”

Nonnie laughed. “I bet he did. Mr. Watkins will see you. Go right in Mr. Schmidt.”

“Please…Nonnie, call me Carl.”

Henry had just gotten past a hard test and he was positive that Watkins would be a lot easier. He was absolutely right.

For the next thirty days Henry played his role as Carl W. Schmidt, doing the same old job he did for thirty-five years. He managed to move almost $7,000 into his varied accounts and enjoyed doing it as he always did. In his apartment the last few days he spent painting the entire place. He realized that his prints would be all over his renovated office, but doubted anyone would even consider checking for his prints there. He had a flawless plan…he could not fret over every move the police might make. The landlady was delighted. “I’ll deduct whatever you spend Carl from your next months’ rent. It is so kind of you to do this. I will really hate to see you go when you buy your new house.”

“No need for that Elsie…glad to do it.”

Henry finished his painting job and was very careful to wear rubber gloves from then on out. He wanted to be sure that not one fingerprint would be available once the detectives came looking for the mysterious Carl Schmidt. CARL’S FIRST AUDIT

“So Carl,” Wilkins said, “This is our first audit together. I am afraid that Henry rarely bothered me with the details. He brought me the ledgers, I looked them over, questioned him a bit and that was it. I hope you have the same inclination.”

“You bet I have Mr. President. So far it feels like I have been here for years. We have such pleasant people and a great working environment…not to worry.”

“Thank you Carl…you are a blessing.”

Henry quickly finished his phony audit as his last act. He blatantly cooked the books that any fool could see through. He took a final five thousand dollars that he knew would be blamed on Carl as well and signed Carl’s name to the final audit. Satisfied he took the ledgers over to Nonnie.

“Carl…Mr. Wilkins is taking a long week-end and will be back Tuesday morning. Let’s lock these in his desk. What will you do this week-end?”

“My mother and I will look at the three houses I think she would like. Hope she picks one so I can get all this settled. I hate living in an apartment and she needs to get out of that old folks home.”

“I wish you good luck.” THE BUBBLE BURSTS

Tuesday morning President Wilkins sat at his desk waiting for his bookkeeper. He had glanced at the ledgers but was not sure what he was looking at. “Nonnie, would you ask our security officer to drive over to Carl’s apartment and check on him? He does not answer his phone.”

Officer John Davies was shown into Carl’s apartment after he explained that the company president was worried about him. John walked in, he looked around, admired the condition of the place and called out. “Mr. Schmidt, its John from your office.” The landlady and John walked through all the rooms and knocked at the bedroom door. No answer. John opened the door. The bed was neatly made but there was no Carl Schmidt.

After Officer Davies reported to Wilkins the president made several calls. Soon the board room was full of men in expensive suits. The company attorney was there with the private auditing firm. An hour later the initial report from the auditor shocked everyone.

“Well, it looks like we have about $12,000 in cash missing. It seemed to have begun when Mr. Schmidt took over the books. We went back a couple of years but found everything to be in order. It looks like this Schmidt just popped in long enough to steal a few thousand and off he went. We have called the police and we hope that the FBI will get into it…but…it is a small amount so who knows what they will do?”

Mr. Wilkins thanked the auditor. “You mean he did this for a measly twelve thousand dollars? Now that seems incredible. My God…this would break Henry’s heart. You also said you were sure that nothing else was missing. I say we wrap this up as soon as possible. Switch those accounts over to our new computer system and let’s keep this among ourselves. We don’t want our competitors laughing at us. So, I’ll leave this all up to you Mr. Harrington…thank you gentlemen for coming in.”

Nonnie and her boss sat in the office talking and mulling over the past incident. Nonnie agreed one hundred percent with her boss that Henry should never hear about this. “Poor Henry,” she said. “He worked so hard all his life for this company…and now this.”

“He surely did. This Schmidt seemed so perfect. I have a feeling that the police will be able to run him down. But I will recommend to the board that we do not prosecute. My God…twelve thousand dollars…the audit to prove a case against him would cost us three times that. Thanks Nonnie. Let’s get out of here early today…whatcha’ say?”

“Amen.”

Friday, Nonnie sat opening the mail. She immediately picked up a post card from her friend Henry. She smiled when she saw a scantily clad island girl carrying a basket of fruit on her head walking on the beach. She flipped it over.

“Hello from my bit of paradise. Hope things are going well back home.”

Henry.

Editor’s Note: Norm is a Peoria historian and author. norman.kelly@sbcglobal.net

This is a work of fiction.