Hero got the call.
Or, more accurately, Hero got the call that sounded very much like an interview.
The boss had called the morning after Hero sent the letter. “I read your letter,” he’d said. There had been a pause after that. Just long enough for Hero to wonder whether this was going to be a very short conversation.
Then the boss said, “That was really good.”
While they talked, a laptop sat open on the table. Hero looked at Sidekick. Sidekick smiled. Not a big smile. Just enough.
“I’d really like to get you in here,” the boss continued. “Let’s sit down, talk through everything. I think we can put something together.”
And that was how Hero found himself driving across town the next morning wearing his good shirt. Sidekick sat in the passenger seat. Hero checked the dashboard clock. Then he checked it again.
“You know,” Sidekick said, “time generally moves forward.”
“I know.”
Hero adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. Sidekick looked out the window. Hero checked the clock again.
“You’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You’ve checked the clock three times.”
“I don’t want to be late.”
“We’re twenty-three minutes early.”
“Exactly.”
Sidekick nodded. “Well, that’s generally how early works.”
Hero ignored him. Traffic was light. They had plenty of time. Too much time, really. Hero could already picture himself walking into the building. The receptionist. A handshake. The small talk. Then the boss. The interview. And there were questions Hero probably should ask but hadn’t thought of yet.
What if the interview didn’t go as well as he expected? What if he said something stupid? What if—
“Okay,” Sidekick said.
Hero glanced over.
“Okay what?”
“I’m going to run a bunch of quick scenarios by you. You ready?”
“Scenarios?”
“Scenarios.”
“What kind?”
“Quick ones.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“It answers part of it.”
Hero sighed. “Okay. Go ahead.”
“Scenario one.”
Sidekick settled back in his seat.
“You’re at your desk. You break the point on all your pencils. There is no pencil sharpener. What do you do?”
Hero frowned. “I don’t use pencils.”
“Pretend you use pencils.”
“I use pens.”
Sidekick stared at him.
Hero kept his eyes on the road. “I use pens.”
“Scenario one has been canceled.”
“Good.”
“You were doing poorly.”
“I solved it.”
Sidekick looked out the passenger window. Hero gave him a wink. “Next.”
“All right. Scenario two. You’re in the break room.”
“Do I have a pen?”
“No writing instruments of any kind are involved.”
“Okay.”
“You’re sitting at a table drinking a cup of coffee. Someone you’ve never met walks up carrying a donut.”
“What kind?”
Sidekick stopped. “What?”
“What kind of donut?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It might.”
“It’s a donut.”
“Glazed?”
“Fine. Glazed.”
“Fresh?”
Sidekick turned toward him.
“Would you like to hear the scenario?”
“I’m establishing the facts.”
“The donut is glazed. It is fresh. It may, for all I know, be the finest glazed donut ever produced by human hands.”
“Okay.”
“The person walks up to you and says, ‘Hey, can I dunk my donut in your coffee?’ What do you say?”
Hero thought for a moment.
“Have they taken a bite out of it yet? It's important.”
Sidekick stared at him. “Why is that important?”
“Because if they haven’t taken a bite, that’s completely different.”
“From what?”
“From them putting a half-eaten donut into my coffee.”
Sidekick faced forward again.
“Moving on.”
“No, seriously. Because if they haven’t taken a bite—”
“Scenario three.”
“You’re giving up awfully quickly.”
“I’m learning.”
Hero smiled.
“All right. Scenario three.”
“You walk into a meeting. There are six people sitting around the table. There is one empty chair.”
“Got it.”
“You sit down.”
“Seems reasonable.”
“The person beside you leans over and whispers, ‘You’re sitting in Margaret’s chair.’”
Hero waited. Sidekick waited.
“That’s it?”
“That’s the scenario.”
“Who’s Margaret?”
“You don’t know.”
“Is she important?”
“You don’t know.”
“Does she have some sort of chair problem?”
“You don’t know.”
“Is her name on it?”
“No.”
“Then I stay.”
Sidekick turned toward him.
“You’re willing to make an enemy at your new job over a chair?”
“I’m not making an enemy. I’m sitting.”
“In Margaret’s chair.”
“You said it was empty.”
“It was.”
“Then Margaret wasn’t using it.”
“Everyone knows it’s Margaret’s chair.”
“I don’t.”
“You do now.”
Hero shook his head. “I’m staying.”
Sidekick considered this. “Interesting.”
“What?”
“I think I found your line.”
“My line?”
“You won’t surrender an empty chair to Margaret, but you might let a stranger put an unbitten donut in your coffee.”
“I said it depends.”
“On the donut.”
“And whether they’ve taken a bite.”
“Of course.”
Hero glanced at him.
“Are any of these going to have anything to do with my meeting today?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Well, probably not.”
Hero groaned.
Sidekick smiled. Then he looked back out the windshield.
For a little while, neither of them spoke. The road narrowed as they got closer to the office. Traffic picked up. Hero moved into the right lane.
Sidekick sat up. “One more.”
“No.”
“One more.”
“I think I’ve demonstrated that I’m fully prepared for pencils, donuts, and Margaret.”
“This one’s different.”
Something in Sidekick’s voice made Hero glance at him.
“All right.”
“You’ve been at the new job for a few days.”
“Okay.”
“Someone on your team comes over to your desk. You don’t know them very well yet.”
Hero waited.
“They tell you they made a mistake.”
“What kind of mistake?”
“A fairly big one.”
“How big?”
“Something went to a customer that shouldn’t have.”
Hero’s expression changed.
“Nobody else knows yet,” Sidekick continued. “They think they can fix it before anyone notices.”
Hero waited.
“And then they ask you not to say anything.”
The car grew quiet. Hero kept his eyes on the road. After a few seconds, he said, “That’s different.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not like the donut.”
“Very little is.”
Hero ignored that.
“What am I supposed to say?”
Sidekick shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Hero looked over. Sidekick pointed through the windshield. “Road.”
Hero looked forward again.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I mean I don’t know.”
“You made up the scenario.”
“Yes.”
“So what’s the answer?”
“I didn’t say there was one.”
“That’s helpful.”
“I thought so.”
Hero shook his head. “I could tell the boss.”
“You could.”
“But then I’m throwing this person under the bus.”
“Maybe.”
“I could help them fix it.”
“Maybe.”
“But if it already went to a customer, trying to fix it quietly could make things worse.”
“Maybe.”
Hero frowned. “You’re doing that on purpose.”
“Doing what?”
“Not answering me.”
Sidekick looked out the windshield. “Yes.”
Hero waited. Sidekick said nothing.
“You’re really annoying sometimes.”
“I know.”
Another few blocks passed. Hero tapped his thumb against the steering wheel.
“I think I’d ask questions first.”
Sidekick looked over. “What questions?”
“How serious is it? Who got it? Who could be affected? Can we actually fix it?”
He thought for another moment.
“And does somebody need to know right now?”
Sidekick nodded. Hero continued. “I’d tell them I wasn’t going to lie for them.”
“Okay.”
“But I wouldn’t just run straight to the boss, either. Not until I knew what happened.”
“Why?”
Hero started to answer. Then stopped. The light ahead turned red. Hero slowed the car and came to a stop. A man in the crosswalk hurried across carrying a coffee in one hand and a donut in the other. Hero watched him.
“Because there’s a person standing in front of me.”
Sidekick didn’t say anything. Hero looked at him.
“They made a mistake. They’re probably scared. Maybe they’re trying to hide it. Maybe they don’t know what to do. Maybe they need somebody to help them figure out what the next right thing is.”
Sidekick smiled.
Hero caught it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was a smile.”
“I’m allowed to smile.”
“You had an answer.”
“No.”
“You absolutely had an answer.”
“I had a question.”
“That you already knew how I’d answer.”
“No.”
Hero raised an eyebrow.
Sidekick reconsidered.
“I had a suspicion.”
The light turned green.
Hero drove on. A minute later, the office building appeared ahead. And just like that, the nervousness came back. Hero sat a little straighter.
“That’s it.”
“That’s it,” Sidekick said.
Hero turned into the parking lot. “You know what I should say when I go in?”
“No.”
“What if I say something stupid?”
“You’ll recover.”
“What if I don’t know the answer to something?”
“Then you’ll tell him.”
“What if I completely blow the interview?”
“Then Margaret gets your chair.”
Hero looked at him.
“What type of nonsense answer was that?”
“I panicked.”
Despite himself, Hero laughed. He found a parking space and pulled in.
The engine stopped. Neither of them moved. Hero looked at the building. Sidekick looked at Hero.
“You’ll be fine.”
Hero nodded. Then he looked at Sidekick.
“You know, you could have just said that twenty minutes ago.”
“I could have.”
“Instead of the pencils.”
“Yes.”
“And the donut.”
“Yes.”
“And Margaret.”
“Especially Margaret.”
“And the guy who screwed up.”
Sidekick nodded. Hero waited.
“So why didn’t you?” Sidekick looked at him.
“Would you have believed me?”
Hero thought about it. “No.”
“I know.”
Hero reached for the door handle. Then stopped. “One thing.”
“Yes?”
“If somebody in there asks to dunk a donut in my coffee, I’m saying no.”
“Even if they haven’t taken a bite?”
Hero considered this, then opened the door.
Sidekick sat staring straight ahead and started to hum.
Hero stopped. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re humming.”
“People hum.”
“You don’t.”
Sidekick kept humming. Hero stared at him.
“Are you nervous?”
Sidekick stopped humming.
“Let’s go meet your new boss.”
Hero smiled. “I knew it.”
“Get out of the car, Hero.”
How about you…any interesting pencil or donut (or AI) stories?
— Mike