Waiting for the Unexpected

Helen shivered as a chilly autumn breeze blew across her bare arms and reddened her cheeks. The hem of her pale blue skirt swept over her feet as it rushed to dance with the eager wind. Fall in San Francisco wasn’t exactly hot, but it wasn’t freezing either. Usually the weather acted quite unpredictably, perhaps that’s why Helen liked fall the most. Life’s greatest adventures always occur in the most unpredictable moments. Helen longed for adventure even as a child. She followed its scent and became a theoretical physicist. After all, what could be more unpredictable than discovering answers to many unknown questions about ideas that only exist in theories? During her college years, Helen took a class on time travel, taught by Professor Danson. Professor Danson, an elderly man, appeared to others as quite a scatterbrain. But the professor was a genius; he thought up amazing ideas and theories about time travel, and actually made this scientific struggle seem possible. Since the professor’s scatterbrained side would show more than his genius side, most people thought of him as a bit crazy. No one exactly grasped all of the concepts he taught, and at least half of his class assumed that he was reading a passage from some sci-fi book. Helen loved science fiction, and she loved his class. She ate up every word and every sentence he said. An understanding of the inconceivable came naturally to her. The possibilities of the theories were just as endless as the singularity itself. Often, Helen would stay after class and discuss either the effects of string theory or even debate the answers to questions like, “If a tree falls and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” Her habit of staying after class became part of her daily routine. In a way, the professor was like a second father to Helen, and Helen, a daughter to him. After college, she and the professor had been working together on a time machine. Helen thought that this challenge would offer many adventures, but after some time, she became disappointed. Working on a time machine wasn’t as exciting and adventurous as she anticipated. Her daily routine was not exactly Helen’s idea of an unpredictable and spontaneous life. She remembered when she came to the lab for the very first time. The tall white wall reached up almost two stories before connecting with the ceiling. White linoleum tile stretched across the large square room. The clean walls were bare except for an old, framed news article hanging by the door. The headline read:
David Danson Exposes Business Fraud: Harry Moorson, CEO of Moorson Tobacco Company.
“David Danson?” she had heard herself ask out loud.
“Hmm? Oh! Umm - he was my father,” answered the professor. “When I was little, he used to tell me wonderful stories about his life. Why, he had probably the most interesting life I knew. He was always mixed up in some sort of adventure since he stopped that tobacco company. Did you know that news article is from the 1920s? My favorite story he would tell. I bet I've heard it at least 100 times. But even with each telling, the story never got old. Unlike people, some great stories never age. Almost like time doesn’t even affect them. I believe it’s those stories that keep the world together. Some day, when we get the time machine working, I would like to go back to the 20s and see the story writing itself into existence. ”
Helen walked home from work, her coiled hair quivering as the autumn’s breeze dashed past her. She couldn’t help agreeing with herself, that she indeed had a dull life. Suddenly, her dreams of adventures seemed silly to her. “Maybe adventure just chased some people, not every one,” Helen thought. But as Helen gave up her future plans for adventure, she no longer expected the unexpected, so with the unexpected unexpected, the unexpected could be expected to come unexpectedly as long as it remained unexpected by those who didn’t expect the unexpected.
The alarm clock went off at exactly 7:30 a.m. She stumbled into the kitchen, only half-awake. She mixed milk with her Cheerios, poured herself a cup of coffee, and grabbed half a banana. Like every other morning, she set her breakfast on the t.v. table in front of the couch and turned on the morning news.
“This is Lillian Hall of the San Francisco News. As we all heard last week, the Moorson Tobacco Company finally reached the record as the most valuable stock. Because of the company’s monopoly, their income grows more each day.” Helen knew she had heard of the Moorson Tobacco Company before, but she couldn’t exactly remember where.
Walking to work was no different than usual. Today she happened to glance up at the sky. It could have just been that it was early in the morning, but the sky seemed a tint grayer than what was normal. Once arriving at the lab, Helen found that the professor was not there. This was not his first absence from the lab. Helen just assumed that he stayed up late working on the time machine again, and decided to sleep in. A soft humming sound came from the room. Helen glanced over at the time machine. The time machine was on and running. Many different dials on the time machine told Helen that it had been on all night. It was first turned on at 2:30 in the morning. Another dial reported that it was set to March 3, 1920. An idea formed in Helen’s mind.
It was clear that the professor had stayed up late working on the time machine. Why else would the time machine be on? March 3, 1920. She remembered that that was when the professor wanted to go back in time to witness his favorite story as it was happening. She glanced at the wall next to the door, where the news article usually hung. But the article was not there. It was gone. Not even a nail was in the wall where the frame would have hung. Another idea popped into her head. “What if the professor accidentally made a mistake and that the story wasn’t carried out as it should have been. Therefore, no newspaper article would have been printed.” Her theories made sense, but how could she know for sure that that’s what happened. She needed to do some research.
Helen rushed towards the computer in the lab. She searched for the existence of the newspaper article on the Internet but not one site mentioned anything about it. She could only remember the headline to the article, “David Danson exposed business fraud: Harry Moorson, CEO of Moorson Tobacco Company” Helen had heard about the Moorson Tobacco Company on the news today. She Googled: Harry Moorson, CEO of Moorson Tobacco Company. There were thousands of search results. She found one source that she often used doing research with the professor. The article read:
History of the Moorson Tobacco Company
In 1944, the Moorson Tobacco Company had completely bought and owned every single major tobacco company in the U. S., destroying any other companies that were a possible threat to the company’s success. This gave Moorson Co. a monopoly in America, which caused the business to grow in profits and popularity. In 1961, Moorson Tobacco Company became international. By 1967, Moorson Co. became “the world’s choice for tobacco” and during the Vietnam War, they promoted their new slogan: “The one thing the world agrees upon: Moorson tobacco is the best tobacco.”
The Moorson Tobacco Company was founded in 1837 by Roger Moorson. The later-to-be “most successful” business first started in a small shop in New York City, which mainly sold hand rolled cigars.
The store was passed down to Moorson’s son, Gerald Moorson. At age 57, Gerald gave the store to his son, Harry Moorson, who was 29 years old at the time. It was Harry who turned the small family business into the successful company we know today.
On March 3, 1920, Harry Moorson announced that the position for vice president would be given to David Danson at the MTC press conference. It was not until the late 1920s that the Moorson Tobacco Company was considered “indestructible” as a competitive business. The company got that name for “destroying” its greatest rival, Black Eagle Cigarettes. No one today is exactly sure how Harry Moorson destroyed Black Eagle, but on March 1927 Black Eagle Cigarettes officially announced that they went bankrupt. This left the market open for Moorson Tobacco Company and the business flourished and rapidly grew. Stars and idols from all over the world were seen smoking Moorson tobacco.
Moorson launched an advertising campaign; posting signs and billboards everywhere. He began putting his ads on cars and buses, so people from every part of the city would recognize the company, which apparently had “the best tobacco.” One of the most famous ads contained a picture of a flapper smoking a Moorson cigarette with the words, “the Moor they see it, the Moor they want it,” printed below. This ad stirred up many protests and, although many frowned upon the ad, the Moorson Tobacco Company’s profits tripled by the end of the next year. Harry Moorson’s advertising paid off and Moorson Company became the most famous business in the world.
Helen printed out a copy of this article. Grasping the paper, she stepped through the time machine. Colors blurred around her and finally snapped into their correct position. She was no longer in the lab. Small two-story buildings lined the concrete streets. The buildings were built so close together, that a piece of paper would even fit between them. Big signs and banners jutted out from the small buildings proudly displaying shop names. The doors and windows of each shop were covered with an awning. It was 1920.
Helen looked toward the papers she held in her hands to make sure they were still there. They were. She found the address where she needed to go. After searching for a great deal of time, she finally came to Moorson Tobacco Company Headquarters. Helen stepped through a giant double door, and saw a lady at the front desk “Excuse me. Can you point me in the direction to where Harry Moorson might be?” The woman at the front desk glared up at Helen,
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Uh. Yeah. Yeah. Yes I do.”
“Your name?” Helen did not know how to answer this. She did not see why she shouldn’t say her own name, but something inside her told her to make one up. “Your name please?”
“Uh…. Nancy. Nancy White.” The secretary picked up the phone,
“Okay. Let me call him first to inform him that you are here now.”
“No!” shouted Helen. The woman at the front desk looked up in surprise, a bit taken aback. “I mean, No thank you. You can just tell me the directions and you don’t have to call him. He knows I am coming. You can just tell me how to get to his office.” To Helen’s relief, the woman at the front desk put down the phone and told Helen how to get to Harry Moorson’s office. Helen thanked her and went off.
In front of Helen was a wooden door made of mahogany with a fancy brass doorknob. The thought of knocking had not even crossed her mind. She flung the door open. She looked around the room. A large, detailed Oriental rug stretched across the room. The walls were paneled with a dark wood in elegant patterns. A marble fireplace stood at the end of the room, embers glowing as the flames fluttered about. Two men, one standing and one sitting, stared at Helen as soon as the door flung open. At that moment, Helen realized that she did not even have a plan. She stood there in the silence for a couple of seconds before opening her mouth. “I, uh, umm… I am sorry for barging in like this, but I must speak to Harry Moorson.” The man standing up over his desk sat back down.
“Well, you must make an appointment. I have to deal with some business first.” Helen realized that the man who had spoken to her was indeed Harry Moorson. About to turn away, she remembered the article she had.
“Sir, I will only take a couple of minutes of your time. But I must talk to you about the dangers of your company.” Harry Moorson stood up and walked over to the door and opened it.
“I would love to hear your thoughts and concerns about the company, but not now. I am busy and do not want to keep this man waiting. Make an appointment first.” The man sitting down said,
“I don’t mind waiting. I’d like to hear your beef. What is your name?”
“Nancy. Nancy White” Harry Moorson stood, the door still open, a firm look on his face. It was clear he was still annoyed. He paused, and then closed the door. He walked back to his desk and sat down, still cross, and glared at her. The other man looked familiar. She recognized him from a photo in the newspaper article. Her eyes widened. She said, “You must be David Danson. Aren’t you Mr. Moorson’s vice-president?”
The man looked a bit confused and replied, “I am very well David Danson, but I don’t know about being the vice-president.”
Helen asked,” Isn’t today March third?”
Mr. Moorson replied sourly.” Yes, but I don’t see how the date has anything to do with anything.” Helen, a bit embarrassed, looked down at the paper she had and then looked at David again.
“Are you sure you are not the vice-president? According to my, uh, research, Mr. Moorson offered the position to you at the press conference on March third.” David, still confused, looked at Mr. Moorson and then back at Helen. He explained that the press conference was scheduled in two hours. It had not even happened!
Mr. Moorson turned to David and said,” Well, it’s about one o’clock. I have another appointment with someone, so perhaps we can continue talking about this subject later.” Helen stood in her place. It was almost as if she was not there anymore.
Once David was out the door, Helen turned to Mr. Moorson. Mr. Moorson looked down at his work, and Helen headed to the door. She was about to open it when Mr. Moorson barked, “Where did you get that research?” Surprised by the question, Helen turned around. He continued, “How did you know what was to happen at the press conference? I did not tell anyone about my plan to make David vice-president and I was not going to tell anyone until after the press conference.” Helen was scared and said nothing. Harry Moorson stood up and walked over to Helen. “You know things that you should not, and that is not good for this company. I do not know what else you know, but I am going to make sure that no one else will find out.” Mr. Moorson snatched the papers from Helen’s hands. He read them and laughed, “This company hasn’t even reached its peak and I already have a biography.” He crossed over in front of the fireplace, still reading the paper. “Creative. There are events here I have never heard of. There are many things in this paper that you have made up. This would make a great fiction book. People love those stories where it takes place in the future.” Quickly, he flung the papers into the fireplace. Helen’s jaw dropped and Mr. Moorson smiled at its effect. “Unfortunately,” he said, “this story will never get published. I can make sure of that. You see, I am used to getting my way around here. You originally came in here to tell me about the dangers of my business, but I am quite aware of all the dangers. I know what smoking does, many of my scientists know, but they won’t tell anyone. Do you know why? Because I say so. You see, Miss White, it is very simple. You can either make people do your bidding with a bribe or with a threat. I can prevent the whole world from knowing what will happen to them if they smoke my tobacco. And that is what I plan to do. The nicotine in tobacco will get people hooked. If there are no known health problems, why would any one want to stop? Everyone will buy more of our product. We will be on the up and up. You can figure out what will happen next.”
“Someone will find out, and you will get caught!”
“Wrong again, Miss White. I can hire a killer to bump off anyone who doubts me. It’s not that hard. The number of my enemies goes down as my company’s success goes up. When this company goes international, I can be sure that as soon as you open your big mouth, it won’t be long before one of my torpedoes finds you. So, will you please excuse me now? Someone else has made an appointment and I am expecting him any minute. Be careful Miss White,” Mr. Moorson turned to his desk and shuffled some papers. Helen was done. She moved towards the door, opened it, and walked out.
She did not know where else to go. How could she have been so stupid to not have even thought of a plan? And now, thanks to her ignorance, she was stuck in the 1920s with no food, no shelter, and no money to get her anywhere. Suddenly, she felt someone tap her shoulder. She swung around. There was David Danson. Helen was very surprised.
“Sorry to surprise you, but I couldn’t help thinking about the paper you have. Could I take a look at it-or a copy-if you wouldn’t mind me reading it?” Helen looked down at her feet,
“No, I wouldn’t mind. But I don’t have it any more, nor do I have a copy.” David raised his eyebrows,
“What happened?”
“I don’t know if I can tell you or not.”
“What do you mean?”
“The papers were burned.”
David looked concerned, “By whom?”
Helen took a breath and whispered in a soft voice, “Harry Moorson.” It took some time for David to realize the meaning of what she said. Then he was curious. Helen realized that he believed her.
“Why would he burn them?”
“Because I know way too much.” Helen decided to tell him the whole story, and he believed every word.
“If what you said is true, how do we destroy the business?”
“I know what you are going to do,” said Helen. “You are going to expose him as a business fraud and that will do the trick.”
David gladly paid for Helen to stay in a nice hotel for the night. The next morning, she woke up and changed into her clothes and went downstairs for the hotel breakfast. After breakfast, she picked up one of the newspapers. It looked very familiar to her. It’s headline read, “David Danson exposes business fraud: Harry Moorson, CEO of Moorson Tobacco Company”. It was the same newspaper that had started this whole adventure. As she looked up from the paper, she saw she was no longer in the hotel. She was in the lab. The professor was sitting at the desk, head on top of his arms on the table in front of him. Occasional snorts were heard from the tired professor. Helen looked at the time machine. It was still running. She turned it off. She took a breath and slowly turned around to face the door. On the wall was a frame. The same one that had held the news article. But the news article was not there. Without thinking, she looked down at the newspaper she was holding. It was yellowed and brittle, with the edges torn a bit. She reached for a pair of scissors and cut out that one article. Taking the frame off the wall and opening its back, she slipped the article into its frame. She hung the framed article back on the wall. An adventure wasn’t what she had expected, but time is what writes the pages of life’s spontaneous adventures.