Clever Magazine, Vol. 6, #2 " Hank, Chuck & Paul " (www.clevermag.com)

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Hank, Chuck and Paul

by Martin Green

There are some people, not really friends and sometimes not even acquaintances, who nevertheless keep popping up in your life and who, in the case of Hank, Chuck and Paul, by I don’t know what strange connection, kept popping up together. Hank Shimazu and I had started working together in the State’s Department of Employment in San Francisco and now, when we’d both moved up to Sacramento, me to the Department of Health and he still in Employment, every two or three months taking a stroll at lunchtime I’d run into him. Then invariably, I’d also run into Chuck, who also worked in a downtown State office, and Paul, who worked in the county’s downtown office building.

In San Francisco, Hank had lived in a studio apartment and as far as I knew had no social life except going to an occasional basketball game. In Sacramento, he’d found a small motel run by a Japanese couple where he had a room with maid service, and a hot plate and a small refrigerator so he could prepare his meals if he wanted. The couple also had him over to dinner three or four times a week and in general took care of him. Hank still didn’t seem to have any other social life and by now I figured he was a confirmed bachelor.

When I met Hank one summer day on my way to lunch we exchanged our usual greetings. Hank asked about my wife and young son. I asked if he was still at the motel and he said, Yes, it suited him. Then we exchanged gossip about our respective agencies. The doctor who was head of the Health Department was under investigation for misuse of travel funds. Hank’s department had just been audited and there were rumors of staff cutbacks.

“You’re not in any trouble, are you?” I asked.

“I don’t know but a lot of guys have been there a lot longer than me. If you hear about anything in Health, let me know.”

I told him I would and continued on my way, knowing that, having met Hank, I would also very likely run into Chuck and Paul. Sure enough, as I strolled through Capitol Park, watching people feed the squirrels in the same way as lobbyists threw peanuts to our legislators, I saw Chuck walking rapidly in the other direction. I knew Chuck through so me interagency projects. He was a few years older than me, a real go-getter, and already a division chief.

“Only got a minute,” Chuck said to me. “Going to a meeting. There are going to be some cutbacks so watch yourself. I’ll tell you more next time I see you.” Chuck was always rushing to meetings and always warning about cutbacks. But I thought about what Hank had told me and wondered if maybe this time he was right.

On my way back to the office, I wasn’t surprised to meet Paul, who I knew through some common friends. We talked for a few minutes. He’d heard about the investigation of our Health Chief. His own agency was being investigated for drugs. We agreed that there was always so me thing.

So that was my latest encounter with Hank, Chuck and Paul. These three didn’t know one another but they were linked together in my life, or maybe I should say space-time continuum, so me thing like, say, the Kingston Trio or Peter, Paul and Mary. (I’d been listening to a lot of folk music lately). Occasionally the thought occurred to me that there was a reason for their connection but, being of a skeptical mind, I dismissed this. It was one of those coincidences, like running into an old friend from school at the airport, that just happened.

The next time I met Hank was a few months later at the takeout counter of a downtown restaurant. While we waited to order, Hank told me his bad news. The axe had indeed fallen on his agency and his job was due to be cut. “Sorry to hear that,” I said. Then to the counterman, “Ham and cheese on rye and a coke.”

“Yeah, I don’t have any seniority, that’s the problem. Anything open at Health? That’s a tuna on white and a Sprite for me.”

“Nothing I know of but I’ll ask. Things seem to be tight all over.”

Hank and I had our lunches on a bench in Capitol Park. He told me that the motel couple had said he could stay there indefinitely but he’d hate not being able to pay his rent. “Don’t worry,” I said. “Something will come up.” That’s what the guy with a job always says to the guy who is about to be laid off.

I was on my way back to my office when, as I had the last time, I saw Chuck hurrying along. I flagged him down and quickly told him I had a friend whose job was about to be cut.

“He’s not a statistician, is he?”

“Yes, and a good one.”

“I just happen to have an opening. So me old geezer went and retired on me. Send him over. Uh-oh. Gotta rush. Another damned meeting.

I returned to my office and called Hank first thing. It didn’t even occur to me that this time I hadn’t run into Paul. The next day Hank called to tell me he’d been hired by Chuck. He was starting at Chuck’s agency in two weeks.

About a month later I met Hank again at the same restaurant and we again ordered take-out. As we walked to Capitol Park, I asked how his new job was going. “Fine,” he said. “I really appreciate your help.”

At that moment, I spotted Paul sitting by himself on a bench, eating a sandwich and reading a book. “Hey,” I said to Hank, “there’s so me one I know on that bench. Let’s join him.” I introduced Hank to Paul. The book Paul was reading was a legal thriller by Frank Tanenbaum. Hank was also a Tanenbaum fan so they had so me thing in common. We compared notes on our respective agencies, then, after we finished eating, Paul said he had to go as he needed so me thing from the drug store on K Street. Hank said he also could use a few things so they went off together and I returned to my office.

A few months later, I received a wedding invitation from Hank. I have to say I was surprised. I’d thought he was settled into that motel for life. I wondered what had happened. On the appointed day, I was going up the church steps when I me t Paul. He was wearing a tuxedo. “Are you in the wedding party?” I asked.

“I’m the best man. Hank’s marrying my sister Mary. I introduced them a couple of months ago and it clicked.”

“Hank’s moving out of that motel?”

“Right. They’ll stay in Mary’s apartment for a while, then look for a house. They want to start a family.”

Just then Chuck came up. “Hi,” he said to me. “Guess Hank’s taking the big step.”

I introduced Chuck to Paul. “Hank’s marrying Paul’s sister,” I said.

“Is that right?” They shook hands. “Congratulations,” said Chuck.

We went into the church. Paul’s sister Mary was, I’d say, an ordinary-looking girl but, like all brides, on her wedding day she was radiant. Hank, like all grooms, had a sappy smile on his face. Later, as we ate the wedding cake, I looked at Hank with his bride, Paul and Chuck, all happily talking to one another. I’ve said I’d dismissed the notion that the appearance of Hank, Chuck and Paul together in my life had any reason and was just coincidence. But now it came to me that the purpose in all this was to rescue my friend Hank from his dead end motel existence. Through my link with Chuck, Hank had gotten his new job. Through my link with Paul, he’d met his future bride. My role had been as a sort of conduit and it was finished. Sure enough, I never again ran into any of them downtown. About a year later I received a card from Hank and Mary announcing their first child.