---

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN#/ISBN# issue/book “While the Waves Crashed” cc&d, v274 (the Aug. 2017 issue) Order this as a 6"x9" paperback book:

Order this writing in the issue book Nothing Lasts the cc&d May-August 2017 collection book		get the 4 page May-August 2017 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Bella and the Billionaires

D. D. Renforth

    Eight billionaires met at their club every three months to discuss the progress of their decision to create an underground town in case of an apocalypse which, they had decided, was imminent. The facilities planning was a critical part of the conversation—they wanted to be as comfortable as possible—but other areas were equally important. They needed servants to keep up their lifestyle, they had to determine what they would do in the long months, perhaps years, of living underground, but, most importantly, they had to decide who would be the chief executive of this underground town. One town would not need more than one boss. An entire city like New York has only one mayor. Who of the eight would be the leader?
    One of them suggested that, since only one leader was needed, they take turns every two or three years, but the idea of alternating command was worrisome. That was not their style. They knew that the townsfolk would compare them, like a popularity contest or an Olympics. Only one of them could take the gold.
    Another billionaire suggested a contest. The winner would be the ruler until death, and the rest would be his chancellors in charge of the various departments required of the apocalyptic town. The contest did not excite them but the revolving leader idea was worse. So they decided on the contest.
    Various contests were possible but the choice should be fun, even if it did not work. They decided that each would spend an evening at the club with the same woman, whom they described as “single, mature, attractive, intelligent, and an experienced manager.” The woman would be unknown to all of them, her name picked from a jar filled with names of single women they would glean from business profiles available on numerous online sites. They would ask her to select which of them would make the best leader. She would not know that she was selecting a post-apocalyptic ruler.
    So they picked a name and the potential fate of the post-apocalyptic future fell into the hands of Bella Allegra.
    The group of them met Bella at their club and explained the procedure.
    “So basically you want me to interview each of you and then decide who would make the best leader?”
    They nodded.
    “And I would know this after one interview,” Bella said, again with a sardonic tone.
    They nodded.
    “Leader of what?”
    They said that they wanted her opinion of their leadership potential.
    “Are you guys married?”
    They nodded.
    “This is some kind of prank, isn’t it?” Bella asked. “You have a bet on which one I would choose, right? It’s an ego thing, a guys’ club thing.”
    They did not respond.
    “Oh, hold on here. I get it. You have something else in mind. Maybe you’re telling me this, but in fact you’re actually betting on something else. Now that’s naughty.”
    Again they were quiet.
    “Have you done this before?” Bella asked.
    They shook their heads.
    “And you will pay me one thousand dollars per interview?” Bella asked.
    They nodded.
    Bella rose from her chair and the glass of wine they had offered her.
    “I don’t think so, gentlemen. I don’t know any of you and I don’t like doing things when I don’t know what’s going on. So, I pass.”
    She was about to leave when one of them, Ryan, the one who had invited her, spoke.
    “Please sit down, Miss Allegra,” he said gently. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea. We’re interested in what you think of us as leaders. These meetings will have only that purpose, none other. Simply spend an evening with each of us, at this club, and then pick one of us. Ask yourself: ‘Which one of them would I vote for, if they were all running for president?’”
    Bella looked at them all with a serious and concerned face.
    “Then what?” she asked.
    “Nothing,” Ryan replied. “You’re done. Take the money and go.”
    “Suppose I wouldn’t vote for any of you?” Bella asked.
    The eight all stared at each other again and hesitated.
    “You must pick one of us,” Ryan said, “regardless.”
    “For example,” Bella said, “you already have one count against you.”
    She stood up and waved her arms about.
    “You belong to this club,” she said. “I’m not going to vote for somebody for President who belongs to this club. This club is for elitists and rich people. What would people here know about ordinary life? And what makes you think I know anything about leadership?”
    “We read your profile,” Ryan said. ”You’re a senior manager, educated, and mature. You have a number of people reporting to you.”
    “I still might pick none of you,” Bella said.
    A surprised look appeared on their faces.
    “Look at you,” Bella said, looking at their faces. “You’re shocked. Why is that? What have I said that’s so difficult for you to grasp? Don’t answer. I know why. Because you think the opposite, don’t you? You think because you belong to this club and have money and position that people would naturally want to vote for you, because you’re worldly successful, and being worldly successful means you’ve made the right decisions, and if you’ve made the right decisions, then you’d be a darn good leader, right?”
    They said nothing in reply. Her frank tone surprised them.
    “Would it be better if we were failures?” Ryan spoke up. “If we were broke and lived off the street as beggars? Would that make us better leaders?”
    The billionaires all chuckled.
    “You can laugh, but I’m not going to vote for someone simply because he can make a profit or doesn’t dress like a beggar. There are a lot of idiots who lead big companies and wear expensive clothes and they still can’t stop their company from going bankrupt. And then there are those corrupt fellows who lose millions for investors and jobs for the people who work for them.
    “On the other hand, I’m also not going to vote for someone because they can’t make a profit. We’re all beggars, in my opinion, trying to survive, some of us have just made bad choices, bad luck or have no connections. The guy I report to right now, he got his job because of his father, not because he deserved it. That’s good fortune, not talent or a special ability. He makes a lot of money, much more than I do, but he’s done nothing to deserve it. There’s only one thing he’s good at: acting like he’s important. Without me and other managers, honestly, the company would sink.
    “I have a theory,” she said, leaning forward and talking to them as if they were her students. “If you take that bit away, the bit where somebody gets an opportunity because he has money or knows somebody, then you’d have a lot better situation in every field. Because there are too many geniuses who are broke or don’t have contacts.”
    “Your point?” Ryan said.
    “The first question I would ask about someone wanting to be a leader is: how did he get here? Did he make it on his own or through money or contacts? I also look for what my Dad called character. Without character, nothing matters. Look at the doofus I have for a boss. How can I respect him when he has no business being my boss, he has a filthy mouth, grabs at the women, and lies constantly? He knows he got the job unfairly, but he doesn’t care.”
    “Anyway, I’m in the dark here,” Bella said, opening up her purse and putting on lip gloss. “Aren’t you all leaders now? Why would you want me to select one of you as a leader? Aren’t you sick of being leaders?”
    “We have a project in which only one of us can lead, so we need to find out which one of us would be best. We thought we would find an intelligent, objective person to decide, not someone who knows us or is in our businesses.”
    “I see. You want one of the little people to help you. OK, so you eight are going into business, but only one can be the president, is that right?”
    They nodded.
    “Tell you what. Let me make this quick. I see what you’re all about. You clearly respect money. Tell me the one who’s worth the most and I’ll select him.”
    “So wealth is your criterion?” Ryan said.
    “No, that’s your criterion,” Bella said. “Gone are the days when an Abe Lincoln could be President. Do you really think anyone can run for President without a lot of money? Anyway, I digress. Clearly money’s your thing. And it’s your project, not mine.”
    “We know who’s the richest,” Ryan said.
    “Good. Then can I go? I have other things to do and I feel uncomfortable in here. My sister’s been begging me to help her choose a dog. Which dog, she asked me, will best fit into her home? Big decision, gentlemen. Choose the best dog. All that I can do.”
    Again Bella got to her feet, finished her wine, and walked to the door.
    “Fine!” the billionaire Tom spoke more loudly than he wished. “Come back! Fine.”
    Bella returned.
    “Our wealth will not be a factor,” Tom said, “though, to be honest, it’s more interesting than you might think. Not even all of us earned our money.”
    “Not surprised at that,” Bella said, again sitting. “OK, so let’s remove money as a criterion “Could I have another glass of wine?”
    “But if you remove wealth,” Bella reminded them, “then you can’t include what house you live in, what clothes you wear, what clubs you belong to, your investments, properties, and so on. All gone. So what’s left as criteria on which I can select the best leader?”
    The group became quiet again.
    “John Lee is a pretty good golfer,” Tom said.
    “True,” Ryan said. “Yes, we all play golf. So golf. Yes, we all golf.”
    “Is that a worthy criterion for a leader?” Bella asked.
    “I think so,” Tom said. “We do the occasional deal on the course.”
    “So the leader should golf,” Bella said, “but since you all golf, that won’t help us here.”
    “True,” Ryan said.
    “What else?” Bella said. “What have you done to keep yourselves up to date?”
    They looked around at each other and shrugged.
    “There’s no need,” Tom pointed out. “We’re already running our companies. We have people who do that, you know, strategists and idea types. I think I peeked in on a management training course once, but only to observe the trainer and the course. I wasn’t really in the course. Most of us never found college useful. Did Bill Gates and Steven Spielberg graduate from college?”
    “Warren Buffet has a Masters,” Bella rebuked.
    “He does?” Ryan said. “Well, he also plays the ukulele at meetings.”
    They all laughed.
    “You know,” Ryan said, “I’m no fan of all these upgrading courses and human resources programs and MBAs and conferences anyway. You can’t captain a ship in a class. I say: If you need that to manage, then you don’t know what you’re doing. Just do it.”
    They all nodded that they agreed with Ryan.
    “So none of you have taken courses or skill development programs?” Bella asked.
    “A couple of us have MBAs but we agree that it should not be used as a factor.
    “Fine. But there must be skills and abilities special for a leader.”
    “I can answer that,” billionaire Sana said. “You can’t learn how to do it through a bunch of case studies. It has to be in you. Managing people, inspiring them, bringing a vision, having ideas, and managing money wisely, they’re not skills as such; they’re natural talents. We all have those talents.”
    “Which means, at least to me,” Bella concluded, “that any of you could be the leader. So choose by lottery. You’re all the same.”
    Once again Bella rose up from her chair. The group was surprised at her suggestion.
    “What? No, no, no,” Tom said. “We’re not the same.”
    “Of course you are,” Bella said. “You’re leaders, you have the same skills, your mindset has been molded for business, and you’re all successful. Just draw straws. It’s simple. You’re clones of each other.”
    “But this project is special,” Ryan said; “it’s not exactly a business. It requires other skills. It’s more like a community leader.”
    The others nodded. They wanted someone outside to choose.
    “I see,” Bella said, sitting down. “Community leader? Hmmm. OK, then you may be in trouble, because, from what you’ve told me—which isn’t much, I don’t even know what this project is about—what you do is all you are. And what you do is not necessarily transferable to every kind of leadership. Each of you specialized, didn’t you, because you were so desperate to be rich and successful in your field? You may have other undeveloped skills or abilities, but nothing else for which you’re trained. Your education, such as it is, has had one focus; anything else has been dormant for a while. You’re now, it would seem, brilliantly one dimensional, but when it comes to what’s outside that dimension, you’re no better than any other manager or worker, perhaps worse because you might find it difficult to adapt. I’m not saying you couldn’t adapt, but if it’s that different, there would be a learning curve. It could be humiliating. It’s like asking Bill Gates to conduct an orchestra or Spielberg to manage a homeless shelter or Buffet to be a school principal. Learning curves are tricky for a new leader. Everyone’s watching. At present you can hide behind the mistakes of others because you’re accustomed to using others and approving and disapproving of others’ ideas and decisions. In a new situation, your ignorance would be exposed, your character could not be hidden.
    “Oh, then there’s character. You’re in that class of people who think they’re entitled. That’s your character. That may work in the bubble you live in, but in another context, I think you could offend people and sooner or later they’d find a way to get you, and who knows what they would do to get you.
    “Anyway, that’s all I have to say. Take it or leave it. And keep your thousand dollars. You can pay for the wine. I have to get to my sister and pick a dog.”
    Before Bella could leave, they asked her to wait while they went off to a corner and discussed her comments.
    She waited a long time. When they returned, they sat down and stared at her until she was uncomfortable.
    “What is it? What have you decided?” Bella asked.
    They paused for another minute, looking at her, then at each other.
    “We’re going to tell you about the project,” Ryan said.
    Bella waited and still they did not speak. Revealing the secret was difficult for them.
    “Yes? What is it?” Bella asked impatiently.
    “We’re preparing for the apocalypse,” Tom finally blurted out.
    Bella did not know how to respond. Of all of the possible scenarios, she had never considered the end of times.
    “One of us must be the leader in that time,” Ryan said. “Clearly not all of us can lead.”
    They all waited for Bella to speak, but she simply stared ahead, thinking of the context in which she found herself. Now more than ever she wanted to leave. She was not going to pick the possible future leader of the apocalyptic world. An unplanned wide smile came upon her face.
    ‘These men are sitting around planning the end of the world,’ she was thinking, ‘and I’m thinking about what dog would fit into my sister’s family. No, I’m actually thinking about whether I would use the bathroom here in the club or whether I would go to the one in the fast-food restaurant nearby because it is always clean. That is the choice in my mind.’
    Slowly she stood up and shook her head.
    “Gentlemen, I’m not going to be involved in this anymore,” she said. “I’m not going to select the person to run the apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic world. I want this here world to work.”
    Bella quickly walked away. She decided she would use the facilities in the fast food restaurant so she would not have to see these people anymore.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...