CARLO’S GAP YEAR Chapter 10 of 10

“Alright, so what you do is very simple.” Harry sat down at the desk by the side center of the office door and clicked the mouse on the computer before him, entered some numbers and letters for the username, then password and he was in.

He clicked on a folder marked “clients” and suddenly a huge database of names, numbers, and addresses populated on the screen.

“So this is how you do it.”

“That’s not all, do you know the name of the company’s executive officer, who’s secretary desk we’re at?”

“No.”

“See, in business, key knowledge is everything.” He looked at Carlo and it was as if he put his instructor’s cap on, “It’s called key knowledge because it opens up gates, locks that would’ve otherwise been locked shut. These are names, locations, certain vocabulary phrases which make you sound like you have know-how, like you must be someone important.”

Carlo suddenly remarked that he wished he would’ve brung a notebook.

“No, don’t worry, I’ll tell you again. Just focus on listening for right now.”

He clicked some more things, and the database list regenerated.

“These are the richest people on the list – from highest net worth to lowest,” he scrolled down.

“Don’t ask me how I got to this place, let’s just say I worked in this plant for a while before I wised up and started befriending the higher-ups”, he turned towards J, “next thing you know, the boss and his friends started incorporating me on… some of his personal projects. That commission isn’t all I make. Just supplements my main income.”

“How did you do that?”

“Aahh, don’t ask me now. Later, I’ll tell you – right now, it’s really not important.” He reached into his satchel and pulled out a notebook, “Bwa-la, one of the greatest asset-producing products out there-“

“What’s so special about it?” Carlo had remembered having plenty of those, new too, every school year and he had never found them very… valuable.”

“Ideas are the highest form of currency, young Carlo. When you catch a good one, it’s worth its weight in gold. If you let the idea go, it’s just like letting gold slip through your fingers.”

Carlo thought about asking Harry to tear out a piece of paper, or to ask him more questions but he didn’t want to disrupt his knowledge flow.

If I just keep him around as my mentor, I can learn a lot more than this, he thought. I better not try to get on his bad side by asking too many incessant questions.

“Let’s try calling someone,” he clicked one of the people’s names and so much information came up for the person that Carlo could hardly believe it.

“This is what the rich and high-earning corporations, like this one, spend their money on – information.”

He clicked through some more things and pulled up pictures of the street they lived on, an extremely wealthy private neighborhood outside of Atlanta.

“This man is the CEO of a line of furniture gallery stores.” He clicked one more thing and suddenly the name, age, picture, height, even the school that his kids went to pulled up.

“What, is that even legal?” Burst out of Carlo.

“Probably. I don’t know.”

Then he looked at Carlo, jumped startled, and said, “y’know what – you call him, here’s my script, made by yours truly, the magic’s in the words, you just need to repeat them verbatim – it’s ok since they can’t see you reading through a phone call, so you should be able to sell something. And I’ll only keep 70% of the sales commissions for hooking you up with the lead.”

Carlo gulped, sat down in the chair, looked down at the script, then up to the president of luxury furniture galleries net worth.

$34,568,232, as of 9/17/23.

Carlo sat at the desk for a good 15 minutes before saying a word – Harry just fiddled with his phone in the corner, left the room, then came back.

But he didn’t say a word.

Carlo had everything he needed before him – on Harry’s custom made script.

He started to dial the numbers on his personal phone but Harry stopped him –

“They’ll never pick up if you use your own phone. Looks like a stranger’s calling them, and they’re too busy for that,”

Without saying a word, Carlo grabbed the office telephone, put it up to his ear and dialed the phone number.

“Evening, Mr. Gaviar? George here, personal consulting representative for Ed at the production plant in Bowie…”

Carlo and Harry left that office with $10k in commissions in the bag.

Walking out of the factory, Carlo felt as light as a feather, and an added sensation of feeling like him and Harry robbed the place, in a way.

“Jesus Christ,” Carlo said walking away.

“I know that’s right.”

“When can we do that again?”

It was at that moment that it appeared that a light went off in Harry’s mind.

Instead of carrying on with the conversation, he said, “You like money, huh?”

“Yes. Who doesn’t?”

“Well, I have a special proposition for you.”

Out of nowhere a voice cried out from behind the two.

“Carlo! Is that really you? Oh Carlo, they told me you were in here.”

Carlo turned around.

It was Gerry, one of his favorite people from high school.

“Do you two know each other?” Harry asked.

“We went to high school, graduated in the same class.”

“Ok, well I’ll have to call you later, Carlo. Get those orders inputted into your side of the system, but remember. I get half.”

“You bet sir.”

Harry began walking away.

“Harry! Thank you so much once again. This is life-changing!”

“That, ain’t nothing but a few pennies and cents, partner. Just – ” he looked over at Gerry.

“Just be ready for me to call you, maybe tonight.”

Harry walked away and Gerry immediately said, “How did you meet him?”

“Work.”

“I – I don’t. Know how to tell you this, but maybe this is just what I’m supposed to let you know.”

“What?”

“Well, your friend, Harry. He’s not a good man.”

Both were quiet.

“He doesn’t work here anymore, but when he did… well. Let’s put it this way, he found ways of getting… more than he was entitled to. Out of virtually everyone. But he didn’t get fired for that. The higher-ups who own this place use him for..” Gerry paused, thinking about if he should say what he was going to say. “Just be careful around him. That’s all. And if he’s promising you anything, know that it’s so that he can get something out of you for it.”

“I understand.” Carlo said, but he didn’t really let the information soak deep into him.

That man just made me $7,000!

He wasn’t in a position to turn down his only help in getting what he wanted – the down payment for a new Jeep, a new suit. And that beautiful woman.

“Carlo,” Harry said over the phone later that night. He couldn’t believe it. In the short 24 hours that he spent under Harry’s tootelage, his life had turned around.

It’s amazing how a person, a friend, can catapult you into your destiny, Carlo thought while internet shopping for different suits.

“Yes sir.”

“Get your suitcase packed. I got a special deal for you to get into,”

“What is it? Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry too much about it, just get your stuff right and ready. I’ll pick you up later tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“It has to be tonight. The deal depends on it.

There’s about $15k in store for you on that part of the deal.

Carlo nearly dropped his phone. He thought for a split-second what his friend Gerry had told him about Harry, but the (doubtful) thought left when he imagined the Jeep, bright yellow with a removable top, his beautiful wife sitting right next to him.

“Carlo… Carlo!” Harry yelled. It turned out Carlo had been daydreaming over the phone. “Are you in, or not? All I need is a translator. My Spanish is not very good. I’ll give you 50%.”

That was enough. He was in. Harry had already proven himself to Carlo in what he thought was a period of time not long enough to ascertain someone’s true character, but long and solid enough to show that when he talked about making money.. he meant it (and that was what Carlo needed at that time).

“Where are we going?”

Harry hesitated for a moment. Carlo figured that he was just getting ready,

“Cali.”

They arrived at the airport within a matter of hours after the phone call.

“Where did you tell your parents you were gonna go?”

“To California for a long weekend, for a sales convention that was paid for by the company.”

“Excellent. That’ll do. We’ll try to get you back before then.”

He took out a flask from his suit jacket, drank some, then handed it to Carlo.

“What is it?” Carlo asked.

“Bourbon,” Harry said.

Carlo started smelling the bottle, he wasn’t used to liquor, “to Cali!” Harry said!

“To Cali!” Carlo said, taking a long deep gulp.

When he saw Harry looking at him with a devilish grin after he took a gulp of the liquor, he didn’t know what came over him, but he shouted, “For the $15,000!”

And threw the liquor back yet again.

Then he saw what looked to be Harry deeply amused with an even deeper grin, looking almost devilish.

“For the yellow Jeep!” Carlo threw it back one more time.

Before he completely lost consciousness.

“Hello, friendly fliers thank you for riding on flight 687 onto Cali, Colombia, we are now on our downward ascent towards Alfonso Bonilla Aragon.”

Carlo suddenly woke up. There was drool all over his cheek and down his shirt, then he spotted that his pants were completely wet.

The man next to him nudged him, “estás bien?”

“Si solamente,” he looked around. The plane was suddenly full of latino spanish-speaking people.

“Estabas boracho, o que?”

“No, bueno si, un poco. Ayy mi cabeza!” Suddenly he realized the level of migraine he was experiencing. “Me orine?” He asked the man.

He scoffed, “No, es que te han dado una taza de agua, y la derramaste sobre ti mismo.”

Carlo felt ashamed, confused, and lost.

He really thought he was going to be going to California. Now, all of a sudden, it turned out that Harry had tricked him!

Coming out of the airplane, Carlo was in a rush to find out where Harry was.

Gerry’s words resounded in his mind, “Harry’s not a good man,” “He found his ways of getting… more than he was entitled to… if he promises you anything, it’s so he can get something out of you…”

Suddenly Harry walked out of the airplane in the line and Carlo waited for him adamantly.

“What’d you think about the flight? Welcome to Colombia!”

“Why didn’t you tell me we were going to Colombia and not California?”

“I told you we were going to Cali. Not California. And this is where we are.”

Carlo looked around.

The city was called Cali, actually.

He suddenly felt like a fool.

“Why would I need you to be my translator if we were still in the U.S? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Carlo paused and thought to himself.

Surely he had more questions to ask, but he had forgotten them in the moment (He was too hung over).

“C’mon, we got people waiting for us.”

They walked out of the airport, somehow managing to cut through immigration by some man in an immigration uniform meeting them outside of the line, taking them to a room, asking Harry what his affiliation with E was, paying him $150 USD, and going out of the room into the streets.

Carlo was about to ask about his passport – or lack thereof, and how Harry was able to get him through onto the plane without it – but the answer was practically answered right in front of him – he bribed them.

He was awestruck at the views and the beauty of the people (especially the women).

He had been to Mexico only once, with his mother for a holiday party, but never again since then. And this place, Colombia, kind of reminded him of it – everyone looked different, hispanic, yes, but there’s a sort of beauty and charm that is rightly particular to this country, with which Carlo was about to become acquainted with.

A black escalade with tinted windows pulled up to the sidewalk Carlo and Harry were standing at – a man in a black suit with an earpiece emerged from the back, “Ustedes estan con E, no? Carlo y Harry?”

“Si,” both said at the same time.

And they were off on the long and winding road.

Colombia can be a wild place. Especially if you’re there for the wrong reasons!