Simpleton Sobstory

Between 1843 and 1848 Charles Dickens wrote five "Christmas Stories", the most famous of which being "A Christmas Carol". As its only a couple of days before Christmas I thought I would leave off the normal blog, and instead write a short story. Its not in the spirit of Dickens' Christmas stories, but anyone familiar with his work will I hope recognise both the style and characterisation.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Times were hard in Much Crapton. The town depended on the R. Sole Shoe Company, and following an offer from a Dutch multinational clog manufacturer, the owners had decided to sell. As is normal in such situations, the owners walked away, having pocketed several million pounds from the sale, while the loyal workforce found themselves without a job as production was moved to the Dutch town of Aalbealright. No doubt, had the boot been on the other foot, the owners would have thought twice about the sale. As it was the factory closed and most of the town found itself on its uppers. Shops lost trade and before long everywhere began to look down at heel.

“Now my young lad, you’ll just have to knuckle down, now that you’ve lost that job,” said Mrs. Violanda Meangit, a rather straight-laced widow.

Her words were addressed to a young man whose age we may assess to be greater than eighteen, having worked for a period of two years at the aforementioned factory, after having left school at the prescribed leaving age. The young man had a sparkle in his eye, that his life, of which we shall shortly say more, had not yet managed to dull, let alone extinguish. Yet, it was not clear whether this sparkle was the result of a bright intelligence, alive with the excitement of ideas and dreams, or just the bliss that comes to those who lack the intelligence to understand the poor hand they had been dealt from life’s rigged deck of cards. There were times when his maternal aunt, for it was she who had addressed him, thought it might be the result of some narcotic, but she realised this could not be so, for she did not give him any money from his paltry wages, which he was required to hand over each week, and, even if he had money, he was too busy, engaged in household chores, and attending to his aunt’s needs at evenings and weekends to associate with the potential suppliers of the aforementioned substances.

This young man, who we can now introduce as Mr. Simpleton Sobstory, had found himself in the care, if care his state could truthfully be designated, of his aunt, following the death of his parents some ten years earlier. We have neither the time nor the inclination to relate the circumstances of their deaths, but needless to say, it was of a suitably tragic nature, as is always the case in stories such as the one we are about to relate to the reader. If truth be known, the arrival of Simpleton, in the household of Mrs. Meangit, had been fortuitous for that lady, because only two months earlier, her own husband had been taken to an early grave, robbing her not only of a loving husband, but, more significantly, for Mrs. Meangit, a very good handyman, who, having put the bread on the table, htrough his employment at R. Sole Shoes, was also required to butter and fill the sandwiches, for the Meangits, upon his return from that establishment. Needless to say, Mrs. Meangit felt herself to be above such preoccupations and found the idea of having to work or perform household duties following the death of her husband preposterous.

It was this circumsatcne, which led many people, acquainted with the Meangits, to comment that, although Mr. Meangit undoubtedly loved his wife profusely, in death he had truly found peace, and it may well have been his preferred option. It was also this circumstance, which, as we have said previously, rendered Simpelton’s arrival as fortuitous. During the ten years that passed between that time, and our current events, Simpleton learned how to perform many useful tasks such as cooking and cleaning, and others such as cutting Mrs. Meangits toenails, which, she assured him, would be invaluable in later life. It is to that later life we must now return in order to proceed with our story.

“Here’s a job for you in the paper,” announced Violanda, in a voice that set all the dogs in the neighbourhood barking.

The job was as a Toilet Attendant. Of course, the advertisement did not actually use the words Toilet Attendant, it was described as Sanitary Engineer, but, nevertheless, it was a toilet attendant. Simpleton was once more grateful for the love and concern his aunt showed him, as she lay reclined on the sofa, waiting for him to bring her afternoon tea. He rushed off to the Much Crapton Council offices, to apply for the job. There had been two hundred applicants, but, Simpleton must have impressed in some way, because we can gladly relate that his application was successful.

It was not much. One could describe the pay as crap. However, we shall refrain from the temptation, because poor Simpleton would find himself the butt of more than enough toilet jokes for us to add to his burden.

Simpleton was told to turn up to a small public convenience on the outskirts of town. He was met by the sanitary engineering Supervisor, Mr. Baldly Humorous. Baldly was a kindly man of around forty years of age. His protruding belly was witness to his usual pastime of spending the evening in a local hostelry with friends in a convivial and jovial atmosphere that became more convivial and jovial the more of that establishment’s home brewed ale was consumed.

“Now, Simpleton, let me tell you the most important things for you to know. Let’s start by outlining your position in the organisation.”

Baldly pulled out a piece of paper.

“At the top of the Council is the Chief Executive. Beneath him is the Deputy Chief executive who is really the person in charge, because the Chief executive is rarely here between all the conferences and seminars and meetings with other Chief executives and dignitaries he has to attend. It’s a wonder to most of us he has time to fit in his two months a year annual holidays. The Deputy Chief Executive is over two Assistant Deputy Chief executives, who actually carry out the functions of the deputy Chief executive while he is filling in for the Chief executive, or when the Deputy Chief Executive is on holiday or sick, which he is quite often.

“Beneath the Assistant Deputy Chief executives are the Departmental Directors of which there are seven in total. Our department is the Department of Sanitation and Public Hygiene, and our Director, Mr. Fortuitous Timeserver, is likewise titled. Beneath Mr. Timeserver is a Deputy Director, who like the deputy Chief Executive, is really the person in charge, because the Director, also, is far too busy attending conferences and seminars and other such important functions to spend much time in the Council Offices. Two Assistant Deputy Directors, who in their turn perform the same functions as the Assistant Deputy Chief Executives, support the Deputy Director. Beneath them are three Divisional managers, who are responsible for the three Service Areas covered by the Department. Our Division is the Public Sanitation Division. The Divisional Manager is supported by a Deputy Divisional manager, but, because the Divisional manager does not have so many functions to attend, they don’t have any Assistants at the moment, although a proposal is shortly to be put forward to introduce at least one. Beneath the Deputy Divisional manager, there are four District managers, who cover the North, South, east and West Districts of the Borough. They don’t have Deputies or Assistants, but each one has three Supervisors under them, and that is the level I’m at. We report to a Senior Supervisor who reports to our District manager. Beneath me there are four people of which you are one. So you can see in more ways than one, you’ll be starting at the bottom.”

Baldly laughed to let Simpleton know this last comment was intended as toilet humour.

“Now, anyone above you, you call Mister, or Missus in the unlikely event it’s a woman, apart from if you’re up for promotion, in which case its Sir or madam, said with a smile. Anyone beneath you, you can call whatever you like, but its customary to use their first names just to show you can. In your case there’s no one lower, but don’t be discouraged; fifteen years ago, I was at your level, but through hard work, good fortune and sucking up to my boss, I moved up to Supervisor. At that rate, in just another hundred and fifty years I could have risen up to the rank of Chief executive, and be earning six times what I earn now.”

Simpleton recognised the sarcasm in Baldly’s comments and guessed he was not overly impressed with the Council’s organisation. He was right. Much Crapton Borough Council employed a total of seven hundred and fifty people. Of these, six hundred were employed in various tiers of upper, middle and lower management, a large number in administration and, of course, a very sizeable section responsible for collecting the citizen’s Council Tax, the majority of which went to pay for the aforementioned, and only a much smaller amount of which went to the remaining one hundred and fifty employees who actually provided the services the public thought their taxes were financing.

“Now, I know this isn’t the best job in the world, Simpelton,” went on Baldly. “You’ll get all the jokes about that’s a shitty job, that’s a crap job etc. I’ve heard ‘em all. But, the fact is its not that bad. In fact, most days you’ve just got to go thorugh the motions.”

Baldly laughed loudly as he slapped Simpleton on the back.

“Now, do you have any questions before I go?” he asked walking towards he exit.

“Is there a chair I can sit on? It’s a long time to be standing between cleaning up.”

“No chairs son, but plenty of stools,” replied baldly as he walked off laughing heartily.

So it was that Simpleton began his new career. We have already alluded to the fact that ten years in the service, we should say care, of his aunt had already equipped him with many of the talents required for being an efficient sanitary engineer. If the truth be told, and why would we not tell it, his predecessor had not taken a great deal of care in his work, and the facility was not one of the better examples of the Borough’s similar establishments. Simpleton set himself the task of making his toilet the cleanest, if not the best, that the Borough could offer. Every day he set to work with various compounds and assorted implements to remove a piece of lime scale here a stubborn stain there. He brought in gentle soothing music on tape, which he played in the background. He brought in his own air freshener, scented candles, and pot pourri to give the facility the feeling of some refined Roman Bathing house rather than the cemetery Road Public Convenience, which was its official name. By and by a number of people became close acquaintances of Simpleton, and would call in whether or not they needed to, fining in the facility a place of calm tranquillity where the cares of the day could be flushed away.

Baldly too noticed the transformation that Simpleton had effected and recognised that there was benefit to himself in advancing Simpleton’s career. He brought him books and arranged for him to take time off in lieu to attend a college course. Simpleton soaked up the knowledge like a good quality, quilted toilet tissue. When a number of the facility’s clientele wrote to the local newspaper remarking on the high quality, and delightful atmosphere in the toilets, it prompted that journal to run an article with a number of photographs illustrating its finer features. Of course, the main quotes came not from Simpleton, but the Director of Sanitation and Public Hygiene, Mr. Fortuitous Timeserver. H had faxed them, after they had been cleared by the Council’s large Public Relations Section, from a very important seminar he was attending that week. He said what a fine fellow Simpleton was, or at least he understood him to be, having never actually met him in person. He went on to stress that the quality of the facility was in no small part due to his own personal commitment to the highest possible quality of provision, and to the support given by the many back-room members of staff to front-line employees.

It almost goes without saying, but we shall do so anyway, that, before long, Simpleton had progressed from Cemetery Road to the crème de crème of Public Conveniences – the main Town centre facility. Simpleton knew this was his chance to shine, to make a big splash. For one thing, many a big knob from the Council and local business could be seen in there at lunch time. That was despite the fact that, whatever Mr. Timeserver said about his commitment to quality, everyone knew that the Town centre facility was, as the graffiti outside proclaimed, “a shit-hole”. If he could transform the place, surely they would make him a Supervisor. Then, if he could bring about a similar transformation of all the toilets under him, who knew what prospects would open to him. He didn’t realise that things didn’t work that way. Someone who was good and efficient like Simpleton would never be promoted, he was too valuable doing the job he was in; the fruits of his labour reflected too well on those above him for them to give that up. No, as baldly knew only too well, only those who failed, posed no threat to their superiors, and sucked up to them were destined for higher things. After all, that was how those at the top had got there themselves.

Simpleton, unaware of this basic fact of life, set about a radical transformation of the facility. At night he would call by outside his normal working hours to check that everything was all right. For a time, he made rgular patrols to prevent vandalism. It was fortunate that he ws young and strong, because as well as spending long hours in the toilet, he was continuing his studies as well as, of course, attending to the needs of his Aunt Violanda. Indeed, that venerable lady was somewhat put out by the amount of time young Simpleton was devoting to these other activities. She wondered whether there was some other reason for his nocturnal wanderings. Her greatest fear was that Simpleton might be seeing a young woman. What might that lead to – marriage? No, that would never do. To lose a husband had been tragic. To lose Simpleton would be downright careless. Every day she tried to think of ways to keep him in the house, and to ascertain if there was a love in his life. There was, but it was not a woman. It was the theory and practice of sanitation. His mind was on fire with ideas to transform the bog standard into the special.

It was the middle of July, and for some reason the rain had abated and rays of sunshine were glistering on the stainless steel door handles of the Town Centre facility. Simpleton stood admiring the effect.

“Looks good, Simpleton,” said Flo, the attendant of the adjoining ladies facility, as she rested against a wall puffing on a cigarette.

As he looked across to acknowledge the comment, his heart missed a beat, for just then, he saw a young woman of such loveliness he had never before seen. She was entering the ladies facility, and, as Simpleton caught a glance of her, he thought she looked sad. Thoughts like these had never affected him before. A strange sensation surged through his body, and he wanted to throw down his cleaning rag in order to find out who she was. He was about to go and ask Flo if the young woman was regular when he was called inside by someone. The voice that called to him belonged to a tall distinguished gentleman. He was in his late fifties with smartly cropped hair, that had a hint of grey at the temples, a pristine moustache, that was also flecked with grey.

“Young man, I want to congratulate you on your facility. I passed this way over a year ago and this toilet was a disgrace. I refused to use it. People have no pride in their toilets these days. Not like in my day. We used to spend hours in the toilet exerting a real effort. You remind me of how I was when I started out.”

“Thank you,” said Simpleton. Its nice to know that what you put into a toilet is appreciated by someone. So you started out in a toilet then?”

“I’ve been in toilets all my life, young man. Me and my brother now have the biggest sanitary business in the country. We are responsible for looking after toilets and washrooms in nearly every large hotel, office block and large factory in the country. We’re now looking to take over the running of Public Toilets as Local Authorities want to wash their hands of them.”

It was the first Simpleton had heard of this possibility and it gave him concern for his future. Had he invested all his time and energy in sanitation only to see it go down the drain?

“Actually,” went on the distinguished gentleman,” we could really use someone with your skill and enthusiasm as our Regional manager in this area to help us with taking on all these Public Toilets.”
The distinguished gentleman handed Simpleton a card, on which was printed, in elegant letter, ‘ N. Richable – Managing Director. Richable Brothers, Sanitary and Hygiene Co. Plc.’

“Give me a ring tomorrow morning.” With that, Mr. Richable was off.

Simpleton contemplated his good fortune and then remembered the young woman that had previously captivated his attention, and would that he knew it, his heart. He dashed out as quick as many of his clients dashed in. Flo was still leaning against the wall and about to light up once more.

“Flo, a few minutes ago a young woman went into your toilet.”

“Nothing unusual in that,” said Flo.

“There was in this one,” replied Simpleton. “She was beautiful and yet sad looking.”

“I think I know the one you mean.”

“Does she come here often?”

“No. I think I’ve seen her before, but I can’t be sure.”

Simpleton felt he had to see her again. But how?

The next day Simpleton rang Mr. Norman Richable – Norman being the name signified by the ‘N’ printed on that gentleman’s card. After a short conversation Simpleton was informed that Norman had consulted with his brother, and Joint managing Director, Norbert, and together, they had agreed that, after Norbert had seen him, the brothers should employ Simpleton as Regional manager without delay. A few days later he took a train to Pleasington where the brothers had their headquarters. Simpleton was impressed by the large gleaming office block. He was shown up to the brothers’ office. Norman took him in, and, behind a large oak desk, sat Norbert who was almost an exact replica of his brother apart from, if anything, looking even more distinguished and with a slightly greater proportion of grey in his hair and moustache.

Simpleton related to the brothers Richable his story of the tragic death of his parents, his devotion to his aunt, on which matter the brothers exchanged several glances, and his subsequent employment with Much Crapton Borough Council.

“Admirable, admirable,” applauded Mr. Norbert Richable, “wouldn’t you say brother Norman? And so like our own story.”

Mr. Norman agreed and it was decided that Simpleton should be employed under the immediate supervision of Mr. Pecival Goodchap as soon as possible. The news was not good news for Violanda. For one thing, Simpleton would need to undertake a one month induction course at Pleasington. How could she cope? Moreover, Violanda, as a worldly-wise woman, knew that with such a position it would not be long before Simpleton decided to leave the nest, to begin considering his own future and where would that leave her? She decided to seek a meeting with Mr. Timeserver. After all they both had reason to prevent Simpleton taking on this new position.

Fortunately, for Violanda, Timeserver had just returned from the Sanitation Institute’s Annual Conference. The following week he would begin a three week holiday in Corfu. Normally, he would not have considered an interview with a member of the public, but when Violanda told him it was a matter that might affect his own personal interest that was different. The day after this meeting was the day Simpleton submitted his notice. Just four hours later, at lunchtime, Baldly paid a visit to the Town centre facility.

“I’ve come to relieve you. You’re wanted by Timeserver,” said Baldly. “Watch out young Sobstory, there’s no good afoot here. I know what you’ve been offered, and you know when you’ve been in toilets as long as me when something stinks. Don’t let them bully you my dear friend.”

Simpleton made his way to the Much Crapton Civic Offices. He went to the Director’s Secretary’s Office. She was busy polishing her nails while waiting for the kettle to boil for Timeserver’s coffee. After an unduly long delay, Timeserver buzzed his Secretary and told her to show Simpleton through. He couldn’t believe the extravagance of timeserver’s office. He had been to other offices of this size in the building to check his wages and other matters, but they were occupied by six or more people not one.

“Ah, Simpleton my boy, please sit down,” began Timeserver. “I have your notice here. I understand you want to go to work for this private firm the now what is it… Oh yes, Richable Brothers?”

“That’s right sir,” said Simpleton innocently. “They want me to be their Regional Manager.”

“Well, I’m afraid that just won’t do. You see, we’ve paid for your training and besides I understand these Richable brothers are considering tendering for our Public Conveniences. That could be seen as a conflict of interest.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Simpleton firmly, “but the brothers have offered me a good job – better than anything I have been offered here for all my hard work. If you have a problem, I suggest you take it up with them.”

Timeserver was not used to people standing up to him.

“Oh, oh,” he said, “well if that’s your attitude we’ll see you in Court.”

This last threat concerned Simpleton, but he remembered the words of his old friend Baldly not to let them bully him. Simpleton made his way back to the Town Centre.

“So, how did it go?” asked baldly.

“He threatened to take me to court,” replied Simpleton, showing clear concern on his face.

“Ah, don’t you take no notice. He tries to threaten and bully people like that all the time. It’s the only way people like him know how to treat people. If I’d had more sense, I’d have got out of here years ago, but when you’ve been here for a while they sap your confidence from you. Besides, I’m too old now. I’ve got my pension to consider, but you’ve got everything in front of you.”

“Yes, still I’m a bit worried about how my aunt will cope while I’m away for a month.”

“Its not really my place to say this young Sobstory, but your aunt was in Timeserver’s office yesterday. Maybe its just me that’s an old cynic, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t there discussing you. She may not have your best interests at heart my young friend.”

“Why would my aunt go to see Timeserver?”

“Everybody knows how much you look after her. If you weren’t here she would have to look after herself. She must be afraid you’ll leave her altogether, so she wants to stop you getting this job and saw him as the way to do it.”

“Yes, I see the way it is now,” said Simpleton. “All along I thought she was caring for me, training me, and providing for me, while all the time she was thinking only of herself.”

That night, Simpleton walked into his aunt’s house in determined mood. She was lying on the settee wondering why he was late making her tea. But, Simpleton did not stop. Instead he went straight to his room and packed the small amount of belongings he had. Downstairs Violanda was curious as to what was going on. She would soon find out.

“Aunt, I’m leaving.”

“Leaving, what do you mean leaving?”

“I have lived in your house since I was ten years old believing that you were caring for me, believing you had my best interests at heart. Now I find out that you have conspired against me, trying to prevent me making my own way in life. So now I’m leaving. Don’t expect to see me again.”

“You ungrateful wretch. You’ll be sorry. Just you see,” screeched Violanda.

Simpleton slammed the door behind him and marched out into the street with nowhere to go. He walked for an hour or so and found himself outside the “Mop and Plunger”. It was Baldly’s local and, sure enough, Simpleton could hear the distinctive sound of Baldly’s belly laugh echoing from inside. He had never been in a Public House before, but he was experiencing many new things now. He followed the sound of Baldly’s laugh to where that gentleman sat with a few friends.

“Ah, Simpleton, my good fellow, what are you doing here?”

Baldly acquired a pint of the pub’s famous Number Two Ale, for his new drinking partner and introduced him to the others round the table. Simpleton told Baldly that he had left his aunt’s and this led on to him telling his tale to those round he table. One of the men listened intently.

“If you have any problems with Old Timeserver let me know. I have some information about him that he wouldn’t want made public about contracts that were let to plumbers who just happened to do the plumbing work for him in his new six-bedroom house he had built,” the man said.

“Ohhhh,” went a knowing sound round the table.

“We’d heard rumours,” the others said in unison.

“But, you’ve got proof have you Crafty?” added baldly.

Crafty McDeal was a local plumber who knew everything and everybody. His materials were always cheap, but no one could prove they had fallen off the back of a lorry. If there was some job that was a bit shady, Crafty probably had some hand in it, or at least knew about it.

Baldly agreed to put Simpleton up in his spare room until he could find alternative accommodation. The next few weeks past quickly as Simpleton began work for the Richable Brothers and went to Pleasanton for his month’s induction. Timeserver knew he couldn’t stop Simpleton leaving, but he now had a score to settle. He was that kind of man. No one had stood up to him before, and that might give other minions ideas. Besides, if they saw a lowly toilet attendant becoming a Regional Manager what aspirations might that give them. Timeserver’s worst horror was that one day Simpleton might be earning more money than him! No, someday, somehow he had to have his revenge.

As we have now come to expect from our hero, he took up his responsibilities with gusto. Percival, who had worked for the Brothers from the beginning, immediately took to Simpleton. Freed from the need to look after his aunt he found he had more time to devote to his studies and he began to expand his interests into the wider issues of sanitation chemistry. It was a s a result of this interest that Simpleton made a remarkable discovery. It was a discovery which was to make him and he Brothers Richable wealthy beyond their wildest dreams.

Simpleton had been unable to sleep all night. He had made an appointment to see Norman and Norbert, and he asked for his new friend Percival to be there too.

“Brothers, I have over the last year become fascinated with the chemistry of sanitation. I first became interested in the production of methane from solid waste, and was looking at how we might use it as a renewable energy source. However, I have now made a more significant breakthrough. I have discovered a way of turning urine into a fuel that can be used in a normal car engine. I call the fuel Peetrol.”

Simpleton explained briefly how this process worked and said that if they had a way of collecting urine they could produce petrol very cheaply. It was agreed that they would run a pilot scheme. Richable Brothers had taken over the running of the Public Toilets in Much Crapton, much to the disgust of Timeserver, who now had to deal with Simpleton. Simpleton was eager to use them for his pilot scheme. It took just two weeks for the new collection facility to be installed. A fortnight after that, Simpleton took a special tanker to the Town Centre facility.

“I’ve come to extract the urine,” he announced to a rather incredulous attendant.

“You’re taking the piss,” replied the attendant.

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it so crudely,” said Simpleton, “but, yes, that’s the general idea.”

From this small beginning, Richable Brothers opened a series of Urinluck Petrol Stations across the country. Of course, Simpleton had to undergo all the quips about “Urine the money now.” But, he didn’t care. The Richable Brothers made him a Director with lavish share options that soared in value.

Now, I suppose you are wondering what happened to the other characters in our story. Well, Timeserver, was questioned by the police about a number of contracts that were let to local plumbers, but nothing was proved. Shortly afterwards, he retired on a large pension, which was supplemented by consulting fees paid to him on occasion by the Council. It was not clear exactly what the basis of his consultations were for, but his former Deputy, who was now the Director, assured everyone they were vital.

Baldly took over from Simpleton as Regional Manager for Richable Brothers with a guaranteed pension which he took five years later.

Ah yes, and the young woman. Well one day while going to the Richable Brothers offices, Simpleton saw her rushing out. He enquired from Norman who the young woman was.

“That’s my niece, Norbert’s daughter,” replied Norman.

It transpired that the reason for her sadness was that unknown to Simpleton the Richable Brothers had been in some financial difficulty. On the day Simpleton first saw her she had just been to see her father who was concerned that the business might go bankrupt. Simpleton’s discovery of petrol had saved the day. Now without giving away too much, we can inform the reader that both Simpleton and Miss Richable both lived happily every after and together raised a large family in a large house. Of course, they needed to have someone look after the children and the house for them, and Simpleton was gracious enough to give the job to his Aunt Violanda.

*************************************************************************************

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons alive or dead is wholly coincidental.

© Arthur Bough 2008.