I guess I looked pretty forlorn when he had finished with me and I know he didn't want to discourage me, but I was still upset with Molly and the impending divorce and it was going to be very difficult for me to make a lifestyle change like this and make it stick. That's when Vic came up with a better plan.
"Jack, what you're going through with Molly ... that's one of the most stressful things anyone can face. Now you've got this health issue piled right on top of it. I'm going to make a suggestion to you and I hope you take advantage of it. I'm willing to write a letter to your boss that you are suffering from a serious stress disorder and that you are currently unfit for work. Your insurance will cover you for up to six months, but I suggest we give you three months of leave. The insurance company probably won't protest since it's only your second claim and the first one was for your broken arm ten years ago. That will give you three months to get your life in order without having to worry about your job or how you were going to find the time to make all these changes. In three months, you can do a lot of good things for your health and your future."
I looked at him for a long moment. "You can do that?"
"Yes, and frankly, I think it's a lot closer to the truth than you realize." he said seriously.
"My boss will flip. He'll can my ass the minute he hears about this." I said.
"Nope ... he can't ... it's the law. And, even if he does, that gives you three months to find something better or at least different. You aren't that old, Jack. You can survive this and come out better on the other side."
He was probably right. I hated my job and the asshole boss that made every day miserable. I had tolerated it because I still had two mouths to feed and a mortgage to pay; but all that was over now. I just had myself to look after and I decided right then and there that I was never going back to SandStacker Stone again. The day my medical leave ended was my last day with them, no matter what.
As it turned out, it was an academic decision. As I expected, old man Sandivale flipped his lid when he found out I was off for three months and fired me on the spot. I calmly advised him of the law and suggested he talk to his lawyer brother-in-law and get his facts straight. A day later I got a phone message from him that the day I came off Short Term Disability, I was fired and there would only be a month's salary as severance. If I wanted to fight it, I knew who my lawyer could talk to. Frankly, I had no interest in fighting it unless I couldn't find work by then. I would wait him out, but I was getting what I wanted from the miserable bastard anyway; my freedom after twenty seven years of continuous employment.
I couldn't believe how much better I felt almost immediately. It was like a weight was lifted off my back. I had an income and I had a sense that my future was in my own hands for once. I began my exercise program with walking every morning and after supper. I went to the Community Centre and checked the schedule for public swimming and found two decent times; mixed adult swimming at three on Wednesday afternoons and mixed adult on Sunday evening at seven. I hadn't been swimming since I was in my twenties and I was hoping I wouldn't drown the first time out. It was more difficult and more strenuous than I had remembered; but then I was trying to move a lot more mass through the water than thirty odd years ago. I kept at it and it got a bit easier, but never very easy. It was also a bit of a social time as several women were in the Wednesday class. I at least had someone to talk to and compare my progress with and it was encouraging.
I had begun to extend my walks after the third week and I was feeling a lot more energetic in the mornings. The evening walks were a little less aggressive and more for end-of-the-day relaxation purposes. I got a little bored with my usual routes and began to seek out alternatives to reduce the boredom. One morning I was walking down the main drag and I noticed an office that I hadn't seen before: The State Office of Employment. I made a mental note of its hours and later that day, walked back to the location and went inside. A very pretty young lady in her mid-twenties asked me what she could do for me and I explained my employment situation and what I had been told was my severance. She smiled and said something about being glad I had stopped in.
"Mr. Tompkins, I think I can help you. Under state law, anyone with more than fifteen years of continuous employment with a single employer is entitled to the maximum severance; provided you were not fired for cause. You are entitled to ninety days with full benefits plus any owed vacation; thanks to your long service. What I can do for you is write you a letter with a copy of this regulation. I suggest you send a copy of it to both your former employer and their lawyer and wait and see what happens. If necessary, we can intervene if he fails to live up to his legal obligations. If he decides to fight this, then we can take more decisive action based on a formal complaint from you. Will that help?"
"Boy, will it ever. I can't thank you enough. You just made my day ... hell, you just made my summer!" I leaned over the counter and gave her a big, wet, smacking kiss on the cheek and watched her blush a crimson red. I left the office floating on air. I now had six months of that bastard's money and plenty of time to find another job. I couldn't remember feeling this good and I began to think my luck had changed.
When I stepped on the scales at the end of the month, I knew I had lost weight but I didn't know how much. Eleven pounds! From 207 down to 196 in just over four weeks. I couldn't believe it. More than I thought possible. I was on a high and I was more committed than ever to my new lifestyle. I began to push myself a little harder in the walking and swimming. I was going to be in the best shape of my life when this summer was over and it was only going to get better from there.
At the end of the second month, I had only lost another seven pounds and I was disappointed. I talked to a couple of people at the pool that Sunday night and they both said the same thing; the first pounds are the easiest and every month after that it gets a little harder and they don't come off as quickly. After all, it took me years to put on the gut I'd been packing around and now it was going to take some time and effort to get rid of it. On the other hand, when I looked in the mirror on my closet door, it could see the difference. I kept putting off buying new clothes until fall. I could live with pants that were a bit baggy in the ass and shirts that were a bit loose. It was kind of a badge of progress in a way.
At the end of the third month, a week after Labor Day, I had lost another six pounds and I now weighed 183. I definitely needed new clothes and decided that thanks to the generosity of SandStacker, I could afford it. I had sent the letter from the State Employment Office to Sandivale and a copy to his shyster brother-in-law and bided my time. It took them six weeks to get around to acknowledging my letter and I had to laugh out loud when I read the double-talk bullshit those slimy bastards used to admit they couldn't get out of paying me the three month severance. Another banner day in the resurrection of Jack Tompkins!
When I walked out of the men's store in the local mall, I felt like a new man all over again. I had three pairs of khaki slacks, stain resistant and stretch fit. I had bought three oxford cotton button-down no-iron shirts in solid colours and three more pattern sport shirts in the same material. I put the bags in the trunk of my car and returned to the mall and headed for the shoe store. I spent over a hundred dollars on a pair of Rockport dress shoes and almost $75 on a pair of Bridgeport boat shoes that were too comfortable not to buy. I had already bought a pair of Columbia all-weather walking shoes when I had started my exercise program and I would never go back to ordinary shoes again. I took my dress-black Bostonian's into the shoe repair and had them re-soled and re-heeled to complete my shoe wardrobe. I had spent nearly three hundred dollars on foot ware in the last few weeks; more that I had probably spent totally in my adult life and I didn't regret one dime of it.
My final trip that day was to the J.C. Penny store for new underwear, socks and some cotton polo shirts. I also picked up a couple of simple cotton pullovers for cooler weather walking and I was set for the fall. I looked in the mirror in my new ensemble and I smiled at what I saw. The newly improved Jack Tompkins was looking a lot better. I had cut my hair short; leaving nothing on the sides and back but a half inch and it seemed to make me look younger. The beer gut was gone and when I called Vic to make an appointment for my examination at the end of my three month stress leave, I was pretty sure he would be satisfied.
"Jack, you look terrific. I'm impressed! I'm also really happy for you. I've got your blood tests back and you're doing fine controlling your Diabetes. Your weight is down to 179 and that's a huge improvement. Your blood pressure is normal and you cholesterol is better, but still a bit high in one area. We'll have to see if we can come up with a plan for that. Otherwise, you've worked wonders in the last three months. Congratulations!"
"Thanks. I feel a lot better and strangely enough, I have a lot more confidence in myself. I've got another three months to look for a new job and I've got a couple of leads that I want to follow up, so there's hope for this old guy yet." I smiled.
