We are making a career decision, my boy, not expressing preferences for
different types of recreation.'No, sir. I mean I want to fly, as a way
of life.'Your life is here, within the Morgan group. It is not
something in which you have freedom of action I don't agree with you,
sir.
Paul Morgan left the window and crossed to the fire place. He selected
a cigar from the humidor on the mantel, and while he prepared it he
spoke softly, without looking at David.
Your father was a romantic, David. He got it out of his system by
charging around the desert in a tank. It seems you have inherited this
romanticism from him. He made it sound like some disgusting disease. He
came back to where David sat. Tell me what you propose. 'I have
enlisted in the air force, sir. 'You've done it? You've signed? 'Yes,
sir. 'How long? 'Five years. Short service commission. Five years -
Paul Morgan whispered, well, David, I don't know what to say. You know
that you are the last of the Morgans. I have no son. It will be sad to
see this vast enterprise without one of us at the helm. I wonder what
your father would have thought of this 'That's hitting low, Uncle Paul.
I don't think so, David. I think you are the one who is cheating. Your
trust fund is a huge block of Morgan shares, and other assets given to
you, on the unstated understanding that you assume your duties and
responsibilities, if only he would bawl me out, thought David fiercely,
knowing that he was being stampeded as Barney had warned him. If only
he would order me to do it so I could tell him to shove it. But he knew
he was being manipulated by a man skilled in the art, a man whose whole
life was the manipulation of men and money, in whose hands a
seventeen-year-old boy was as soft as dough.
You see, David, you are born to it. Anything else is cowardice, self
indulgence, the Morgan group reached out its tentacles, like some
grotesque flesh-eating plant, to suck him in and digest him, - we can
have your enlistment papers annulled. It will be the matter of a single
phone call - Uncle Paul, David almost shouted, trying to shut out the
all-pervasive flow of words. My father. He did it.
He joined the army. Yes, David. But it was different at that time.
One of us had to go. He was the younger, and, of course, there were
other personal considerations. Your mother, he let the rest of it hang
for a moment then went on, and when it was over he came back and took
his rightful place here. We miss him now, David. No one else has been
able to fill the gap he left. I have always hoped that you might be the
one But I don't want to. David shook his head. I don't want to spend
my life in here. He gestured at the mammoth structure of glass and
concrete that surrounded them. I don't want to spend each day poring
over piles of paper It's not like that, David. It's exciting,
challenging, endlessly variable Uncle Paul. David raised his voice
again. What do you call a man who fills his belly with rich food, and
then goes on eating? Come now, David The first edge of irritation
showed in Paul Morgan's voice, and he brushed the question aside
impatiently. What do you call him? David insisted.
I expect that you would call him a glutton Paul Morgan answered.
