The Pleasures of Business

Oscar, two Dougs (Computer and Little) and I went golfing today.

None of us are particularly adept at the game. The best part of the outing, as Oscar says, is the breakfast meal we enjoy at a nearby restaurant when the round is over.

As usual, we only played nine holes of golf. Half of them took place through a steady drizzle. During the course of the morning, Oscar's three iron broke in half in the midst of a shot. Little Doug fell in a leaf-covered hole while searching for his ball. And Computer Doug left his putter on the eighth hole and had to go back for it.

Me? I only lost one ball during the round. But I found six balls. That gives me five more balls than when I started the day.

And that, my friends, is a successful round of golf.

***

Around the Sack, young Tremayne is renowned for his sharp entrepreneurial skill. In school fundraising circles, his name is spoken with a hushed tone. Hardly a week can pass during the school year without Tremayne at one's door. He's usually fundraising for a school trip or some other school-related activity.

Tremayne's expertise is centered mainly in the chocolate bar market. He counts the Wonders' home as one of his blue chip customers.

People are usually surprised to see Tremayne when they see him at their door. At six-years-old, he looks far too young to be engaged in commercial activity. But Tremayne is always quick to explain that he's working on behalf of his brother, Jimbo.

***

Jimbo is getting close to thirteen. He has been the most overweight Sack kid since anyone can remember.

Languid would be the best way to describe Jimbo. He seems to do just about everything slowly and with disinterest. Oscar says he has never seen anyone yawn as much as Jimbo. He could be right about this.

It's no surprise, then, that Jimbo would employ his younger brother to fulfill his school fundraising responsibilities. Tremayne is now his brother's unofficial vice-president of business operations.

Tremayne, of course, doesn't care much about titles. He's not even really interested in the money, either. And he's really not old enough to clearly understand the notion of charity.

For Tremayne, it's always about the chocolate.

***

For a six-year-old, Tremayne is also one of the most stylish of Sack kids.

No one is sure if his mother is responsible for his sense of style. Certainly his brother, Jimbo doesn't exhibit any particular flair in his appearance.

But everything Tremayne wears is co-ordinated and gives him a particular look. Oscar says the boy seems to have three very distinct styles. The first is simply known as the "li'l gangsta" look. This sometimes includes a blue plastic handgun that sits menacingly in the waistband of his baggy, low-riding little jeans.

The second look is neat and preppy. It sometimes includes a crisp white shirt and a navy-blue sweater vest. He looks like he just returned from tennis and drinks at a private country club.

And finally, there's his professional basketball player look. In Tremayne's case, this includes the complete home and away outfits of the Detroit Pistons and the New Jersey Nets. It also includes matching wrist and head bands.

***

From a business perspective, Tremayne's off-season is the summer time. There really isn't any product to move, unless, of course, one enters the sports-team fundraising game.

But Tremayne is a savvy operator. He knows that sports-team fundraising is strictly for amateurs. He's also aware that sports-team fundraisers rarely involve any chocolate.

And, of course, for Tremayne, it's always about the chocolate.

***

Saturday afternoon found a number of Sack kids cavorting in the street.

The kids looked like they could almost hear the first day of school approaching in the distance. There was a definite frenetic pace to their play. One could almost feel a sense of urgency in the air.

Of course, that's just the story I'm making up about them. Nobody really knows for sure what Sack kids are thinking about.

They're probably thinking about whatever they're doing right now, rather than next week.

I was really just trying to add depth to the story.

***

I drove slowly around the Sack's centre circle through the throng of kids. Almost all of them waved in greeting. A few kids even pretended to jog beside the car as an escort. We exchanged friendly banter back and forth.

I felt like a conquering hero returning to his homeland. Or at the very least, a conquering hero who's prone to exaggeration.

But maintaining good relations with Sack kids is important. I make it a point to say hello and do some friendly jesting whenever I can. I also keep my distance when they're doing kid things. I just want them to think of me as a positive adult who shows them some respect.

Oscar agrees that it's very important to get along with Sack kids. When they're in the midst of their adolescent years, he says good relations could make the difference between getting stabbed, beaten or robbed.

And besides, he says we'll need someone to go to the beer store for us when we're unable to do so, ourselves.

If pushed, Oscar will also admit that being a good role model is important, too.

***

The kids quickly resumed whatever activity they were engaged in as I moved slowly into my driveway. It looked like it was some form of hybrid game involving a basketball, the game of tag and a skipping rope. Or maybe all three were going on at the same time. I couldn't really tell for sure.

In my rearview mirror, I noticed Tremayne as he broke away from the other kids. He was looking around to make sure the other kids weren't paying attention to him. Satisfied, he started walking directly toward the Wonders' driveway.

Now, there was a bit of swagger in his walk. It looked like he had business on his mind.

***

And Tremayne did have business on his mind. He had chocolate business to discuss.

As I opened the car's hatchback to retrieve some groceries, Tremayne was at my side. He was in full basketball regalia. This time he was wearing his New Jersey Nets outfit with Jason Kidd's name prominent on the back. He was also wearing white knee socks that almost disappeared into his baggy little shorts.

"You go shoppin' today?" he asked.

"As a matter of fact," I replied, holding bags in each hand, "I did."

Tremayne looked at me with approval. Then a small, shy smile spread across his face.

"You didn't buy any of them fudgesicles, did ya?"

I gave him a theatrical grimace. "Sorry, man. I didn't buy any of those, today."

He made a modest effort to hide his disappointment. "I keep asking my mom to buy some. But she keeps forgettin'."

"That's a drag, eh?" I replied. He nodded his head in agreement.

***

Tremayne followed me as I walked up the front steps toward the door.

Suddenly, he said, "You think you might have some of them fudgesicles in the house?" He made it sound like he'd discovered a last-second solution to a problem that was deeply affecting both of us.

I contorted my face in thought for a few seconds.

Then I said, "Do you know what?"

"What?" said Tremayne anxiously.

"I think we do."

With all the reserve he could muster, Tremayne said, "Yesss!" But he said it very softly. Tremayne is always mindful of his own dignity, even when chocolate is at stake.

***

I retrieved a fudgesicle for Tremayne while he waited on the porch. Once it was in his hands, he expressed his gratitude politely. But his eyes never left the iced chocolate treat.

He walked down the driveway and moved discreetly away from the other Sack kids. He didn't want to attract their attention while he had a fudgesicle to deal with.

As he created some distance from the Sack's centre circle, he took the wrapper off and began to enjoy it. His walk slowly took on a rhythmic swagger. One of his white knee socks had fallen around his ankle, but he paid no attention to it.

He was on top of the world.

***

Later, I told Mrs. Wonders about my interaction with Tremayne. I thought she might find the story cute and amusing.

Instead she started laughing. It wasn't hard to figure out that she was laughing at me, rather than my episode with Tremayne.

It turns out that Tremayne received his third fudgesicle in the last week from the Wonders' residence on Saturday. Mrs. Wonders says the boy had appeared at the door twice in the previous four days. She says he has blamed his mother for forgetting about the treats on each occasion. Each time, Mrs. Wonders gave Tremayne a fudgesicle.

***

Of course, one can hardly harbour any ill-will toward Tremayne for his fudgesicle shenanigans.

It's good to see someone who is passionate about something, even if he's only a child. Having a passionate interest could be one of the most basic ingredients for a healthy life.

Tremayne's passion, of course, is the chocolate. It's always about the chocolate.

***