Torchlight International Part 1: The Grand Road
I was never management material. They could see it in my eyes.
I was always on time for work, it's true. I always enforced the dress code, trained new employees, stayed for opening and closing, and kept a sharp eye on the computer and game department.
And yet, I wasn't management material. Not quite.
One day, when things were a little dead in the store, I was approached by TV Town's general manager.
"Mr. Alton, if you have a moment I'd like to have a word with you in the training office," the dark-furred wolf said calmly.
"Not much happening right now, I think I can spare a moment," I said, taking great pains to keep my ears upright and my tail still.
Being a kit fox makes keeping a poker face difficult, but I couldn't let on that my heart was leaping in my chest.
"Don't worry, it's just about your future with the company," he said absently as he typed something on his phone.
I clenched my teeth at that, but took the initiative to walk toward the training room on my own. Through the big blue double doors, around the corner, past the break room, I came to the closed door and let myself in.
I hadn't been in the training room since starting work a couple years before. One side was lined with rows of obsolete computers, and on the other was a long conference table with padded chairs on rollers.
I sat in one of those chairs, trying to sit as upright and confident as possible. Presenting an image of confidence was something they stressed to us from the first day I'd been hired, and I didn't dare face the manager looking anything less than sure of myself.
The manager walked in, followed by an older tiger. "James, this is Jules Ganymard, district manager for District 253. Jules, James Alton."
I instinctively got to my feet and shook Jules' much-larger hand. "Pleased to meet you," I said, the three of us then taking a seat as if on cue.
"Now, James, in the time you've been working with this company, you have excelled at your job. Sales are up in computers and games, and absenteeism has dropped considerably," said the manager.
"I only do what I can," I said.
"Well, it's phenomenal, what you do," said Jules. "You've become the best department head in the district, and we think it's time for you to take your career to the next level."
Those words made my stomach churn. Never once did I think of my work at TV Town as a "career." It was the only job I could get after scoring my MA in biology. At the time I had started, the life sciences companies would hire fresh 4-year graduates for low-end jobs in the field and I'd be able to pay for my grad school out of pocket within a year or two.
Things changed; the life sciences boom ended, and now most of us worked retail, or some other bullshit job to keep our loans paid up. TV Town was as much a "career" as my first job at Burger Joe's.
But as I looked into the eyes of the wolf and tiger staring across the table at me, I knew that if I let on for even one moment that I didn't think this was what I wanted to do the rest of my life, I'd be out looking for another job.
"So it's a promotion, then?" I said with a casual smile, trying to call their bluff.
"Not quite," said the manager.
"You have to understand, to get into the management program at TV Town, you have to be part of the TV Town culture. You have to live a Power-enacted life, you have to set out on the Grand Road. This is a lifetime commitment, Mr. Alton," said Jules, his voice stern and serious.
"I understand," I said, lying through my teeth.
"I'm not sure you do," said the manager. Damned if that wolf didn't have my number every time!
"We at TV Town require all candidates for management positions to attend a weekend long leadership seminar," explained Jules. "The company that hosts them is a long-time partner of ours, even works with all our sister companies. You will only be required to go to this one workshop, although most participants get so much out of it that they sign up for additional workshops."
"I've brought a DVD about them," said my manager, getting up and rolling the TV cart toward me, almost in my face. Before either of us could act, he had put the disc in, turned on the TV, and dimmed the lights.
A bright, metallic-textured logo for Torchlight International swept across the screen, accompanied with cheesy, energetic music played on electric pianos and saxophones. The screen was splashed with happy, apparently successful creatures driving sports cars, playing tennis, and lounging on the beach.
"Have you ever meet someone who had it all?" a smarmy voice cooed. "Did you ever look at their lives and think, 'why can't I have this too?'"
A smartly-dressed leopard leaning rakishly against an expensive oak desk appeared on the screen. "Hi, I'm David R. Walther, president and founder of Torchlight International. And I have a special gift I want to share with you. I want to show you the keys to unlocking your hidden, inner potential."
The scene changed to a black and white montage of a silver vixen dealing with cars breaking down, bills piling up, kids being brats, and angry, disrespectful coworkers. "So many of us live lives of total chaos. It seems everything we do just falls apart, and nothing we ever do will set us on the path to prosperity and fulfillment. We waste our lives and never reach our full potential. We call this the Lost Life."
The scene changed again to that same montage from the beginning. "We at Torchlight International have developed a patented, scientifically-proven approach to helping you find the Power-enacted life shared by the world's most successful creatures," the narrator continued.
"The core of Torchlight's approach is MEAR. MEAR is an acronym meaning Motivation, Energy, Action, and Results. By employing MEAR in your power-enacted life, you are guaranteed to reach your fullest potential and set yourself on the Grand Road to the New Self."
Once again, David R. Walther appeared on the screen, leaning in the exact same position, as if he were nailed to that desk. "We guarantee that you will see an improvement after your first workshop, or we will let you attend an additional workshop absolutely free," he crowed with a smile that bared his fangs a little too much. "Why settle for less?"
Several more creatures stepped into the frame, apparently employees or satisfied clients of the organization, all wearing smiles as plastic as their cufflinks. "Take the Grand Road!" they said in unison just before the video faded to black.
"Well, then, do you have any questions, James?" Jules asked warmly.
"No, not really," I replied, scratching my head.
"Good. The workshop meets at the Regent's Suites on Kane and 3rd Friday at 6:30. You'll be allowed to leave work early so that you'll be on time."
"How much is this going to cost?" I said warily.
"Normally, these courses run between $300 and $500, but the initial course is on us," my manager said.
"So if you don't like this one, you can take the second one free too. That's about a thousand bucks worth of free Torchlight courses!" Jules said, practically bubbling.
"Thanks," I said.
"So, are you ready to take the Grand Road?" said my manager.
"Sure," I said, shaking his and Jules' hands in turn.
My stomach roiled with dread. I knew, right then, I should have walked away when I had the chance.