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The city is about twenty minutes from Tillyville by car or bus or train. By submarine or rocket ship it's a lot longer. Sometimes Tilly Squirrel works in the city. Do you know what a consultant is? Do you know what a consultant does? The Orange Chair Outside, the afternoon was hot and muggy. Inside, the air was if anything overchilled. Tilly took the express elevator up to the 43rd floor. The secretary led him into the executive meeting, which was already in progress. At least two dozen men and women sat around a large oval table. Tilly recognized the CEO, Mr. Wolfbane, from the photograph in the company's annual report. Mr. Wolfbane had wooly white hair, but his eyebrows were black. His eyes went around the table, and then he growled. "So you're saying there's nothing to be done, is that it?" No one answered. Mr. Wolfbane got up and left the table, left the room. A few people looked at each other. A few people whispered. Tilly noticed Joe Nono—he'd worked with Joe before. "Joe," Tilly said in a low voice. "Joe, I have some ideas. What if we delay billing the caterpillar chairs? That should free them up to pay for the computers. The orange chairs are excess anyway, and—" "Did you say 'billing' or 'building'?" Joe interrupted. "Billing. The chairs are already built. They're excess, and—" "Hold on," said Joe. "Wolfbane is leaving for the airport. We'll have to act fast. You jot down your plan. I'll try to snag Wolfbane and get you a quick meeting before he scoots." "I'll need some paper," Tilly said, but Joe Nono was already gone. "Also a pencil." "Here." The woman who had been sitting next to Joe slid a small square sheet of paper from a notepad in front of Tilly. There was a doodle on it. The doodle was heavily shaded. It looked like a walrus. "I'm sorry, I only have this golf pencil," the woman said. She handed Tilly the small yellow pencil. She smiled and frisked her hair. "Thanks," Tilly said. He started to write down his ideas. There wasn't much room underneath the walrus. The pencil was dull. Very dull. Tilly turned the page over, but there were more walruses. At least a half dozen of them cavorting across the page. Tilly did the best he could. He wrote hurriedly, frantically. He knew time was running out. Sure enough, a moment later, Joe Nono was back. "Hurry," Joe said. "You can ride down in the elevator with him. Maybe get in a few words on the walk to the car." "So," Wolfbane said. It was just Tilly and Mr. Wolfbane. The man's eyebrows were even blacker this close. "Nono says you have something for me." "Maybe," Tilly said. "Maybe won't do," Wolfbane said. "Right," said Tilly. "It's just an idea. It might not work. But it might be worth considering." "Spit it out," Wolfbane said. "If we delayed building ... er, billing the orange chairs, we could—" "Did you say bidding?" Wolfbane asked. "These elevators always makes my ears pop." "Billing," Tilly repeated. "Billing. I have it all written down, sir. Sort of." By that time the elevator had already reached the garage floor. Wolfbane strode out. Tilly followed, trying to read his notes. The light was bad. The writing was blurry. Even the walruses were blurry. "Here, let me see," Wolfbane said. He snatched the note. He studied it briefly. He shrugged. He put the note in his pocket. "Okay," he said. "We'll see." Wolfbane got into his shiny black car and drove off. Back at the elevators, Tilly was met by Joe. The woman from upstairs with the dull pencil and the frisky hair was with him. "So how'd it go?" Joe asked. "I don't know," Tilly admitted. "We'll, let's get some dinner," Joe said. "This is Sally Maybe. She knows this hot little chili place way out in the middle of nowhere. Let's go. You treat since you stuck us with the check last time." "Last time?" Tilly said. Sally drove. The chili was good. There was dancing and talk of golf and more dancing. It was after midnight when Sally dropped Tilly off at his hotel. The phone light was blinking. There was a message from Wolfbane. "Your design for the orange chairs was brilliant," the message said. "You're a genius. Thanks."
Consultant is not Tilly's only job. Not by a long shot. You can follow Tilly's other adventures, work and play, in Tillyville by subscribing now! It's free.
Story by Walter Galen Art by Dave Dziedzic |
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