Saving the Job

     "I think you'd better inform the Committee about our budget problem."

     Arnold Gray, who'd been relaxing with a cup of coffee after making his presentation, suddenly became alert. The last time he'd heard similar words had been at the small research firm he'd worked for in San Francisco and a few weeks later the firm had closed down and he'd been out of a job.

     This was Arnold's first time at a dinner meeting of the Health Advisory Committee, or HAC, and up to that point he'd thought it had gone pretty well.  The HAC, composed of six doctors, advised the agency that administered health insurance plans for California's state employees.  The meeting was at a hotel near the San Francisco airport.

     Arnold had come down from Sacramento, a pleasant drive on a clear, sunny afternoon.  The doctors had arrived shortly afterwards and they'd gone in to what was a surprisingly good hotel dinner.

 

    Arnold's presentation had been about the survey of health plan costs and benefits he'd been hired by the agency to design and carry out.  The doctors had appeared to listen, even though a few were still busy with their desserts, and he'd been able to respond to the few questions they'd asked.

       

     The words about a budget problem had been directed to the agency's executive officer, Jason Prosset, by his assistant, Henry Workhaven.  Now Prosset looked annoyed, as he'd done earlier when the steak he'd ordered for his dinner hadn't been rare enough for his taste. "Wouldn't that be premature?" he said to Workhaven.  "Nothing has been settled yet."

     "That's true," replied Workhaven, "but the Committee should know what may happen."

     Dr. Albert Esterhazy, the Chairman of the HAC, said impatiently to Prosset, "What's this all about?"  Esterhazy was a grey-haired man of about 60, so short that he was barely visible over the top of the table, but with the brisk, confident manner of a successful surgeon.  Arnold had been told that Esterhazy had powerful political connections, and even at just this one meeting he could see that the doctor ran the HAC with an iron hand. 

     Prosset pursed his lips and turned to address Esterhazy.  Prosset was an impressive-looking man in his mid-50's, tall, lean and silver-haired.  He was a Harvard graduate and spoke with a kind of New England accent although he was in fact from a Southern California family which had long been politically active and whose campaign contributions, Arnold had heard, hadn't hurt in his achieving his present position.

    "As you know," said Prosset, "the new administration is looking at every agency's budget.  It's part of what the Governor calls his trim, cut and squeeze policy.  I had a call from Chauncey Dwight of Finance and he's talking about looking at all of the agency's expenses, including the stipends for the Health Advisory Council."

     Esterhazy gave a snorting laugh.  "Chauncey Dwight?  What does that pompous twit know about anything?"

     "He's the Governor's man on the agency's Board," replied Prosset, "and they have the final say on our budget."

     "You mean they can't afford the paltry amount they give us to come to these meetings?  Hell, I don't know how much money it's cost me to serve on this committee.  Well, as far as I'm concerned, they can disband it and I'll come out ahead."

     "None of this is definite," Prosset said quickly.  "It's all just talk at this point."

     "What happens to this survey we've just heard about if the HAC is abolished?" asked Esterhazy.

     "We'd have to consider that," said Prosset.

     But Workhaven broke in, saying, "There'd be no survey.  When the Board gave us the authority to proceed it was under condition that it be done under the direction of the HAC.  The money for the survey would also be cut out."

     No survey? thought Arnold.  Then how about the research analyst who'd been hired to do it?  But he thought he knew the answer to that. 

     There were a few more exchanges, during which Dr. Esterhazy repeated his assertion that the state would be doing him a favor by doing away with the HAC.  Prosset said that he'd let the Committee know about the budget as soon as possible.  The meeting then ended, the doctors going off to the airport to catch their planes while Arnold, his mind racing wildly, walked with Prosset and Workhaven through the parking lot to their cars.

      Now that night had fallen it had become chilly and Arnold wished he'd taken a coat to wear over his lightweight Sacramento suit.  At the cars, Arnold asked Prosset when he thought they'd find out about the budget.

     "I'm not sure," replied Prosset.  "Maybe in a week or two."

     "Well, do you think the survey will be cancelled?"

     Prosset frowned.  It was clear that he didn't like such a direct  question.  "It's much too early to know about anything, much less your job," he said.  "Right now everything is on the table and we'll have to negotiate."

     "Chauncey Dwight has made it clear that there'll be cuts and he was never in favor of doing the survey," put in Workhaven.  "So you can draw your own conclusions."

     Arnold thought Workhaven looked smug as he said this.  Workhaven was a man of about 60, stocky, with a fleshy face, his eyes hidden behind thick glasses.  He'd gone to work for the agency immediately after graduating from a local college and after almost 40 years had worked his way up to assistant executive officer.

     Arnold had been told by other people in the agency that Workhaven himself had always been opposed to what he called frivilous research projects.  They'd already clashed several times because Workhaven was supposedly in charge of the agency's dealings with its computer center (although he had no idea of how computers worked) and, in order to do the survey, Arnold was working with the center people to create an accurate computer tape of health plan members.

    On the drive back to Sacramento, Arnold had plenty of time to consider his gloomy situation.  It was ironic, he reflected, that after the research firm had gone under he'd taken an entry-level job with the state civil service because of the security.  He'd married shortly after that and then, to get a promotion, had transferred to the huge Department of Health in Sacramento.  In due course he'd attained a mid-level rank; meanwhile, as these things happened, a son, now age four, had come along, followed by a move to a house in the Sacramento suburbs and Arnold's expenses had gone up accordingly.  

     He'd applied for his present job because it meant at least a temporary promotion (and increase in salary) with a chance of it becoming permanent.  There was also the challenge of being in charge of his own project.  Now it looked as if the project was going down the drain and his job with it.

     When he'd interviewed with Prosset, Arnold recalled, he'd been concerned about the temporary nature of the job and had been assured that the agency was committed to the survey for at least two years.  Nothing had been said at the time about any budget cuts.

     It was almost midnight when Arnold arrived home and he thought it was just as well it was so late as his wife Ellen would already be asleep.  If it was earlier, he could picture her asking him how the meeting had gone and his answering her, "Fine.  I'm going to lose my job."

     When Arnold entered his bedroom, Ellen murmured something and moved over in the bed.  He got in beside her but didn't go to sleep.  Instead, he thought of the wife and young son he was responsible for, the house in which something always needed to be repaired, the two cars which were always breaking down, and wondered what he'd do if he once again found himself out on the street.

                          *          *          *

      The next morning's newspaper, which Arnold looked through while having his quick breakfast, had a front-page story on the Governor's ordering a state hiring freeze.  He was just about ready to leave when his son Mark came in and said, "Daddy, I hate you."

     Great, Arnold thought.  I may lose my job and my son hates me.  "How come?" he asked.

    "You didn't tell me a chapter last night."  Arnold had started telling Mark a story at bedtime a few months ago, one based on what he remembered of the comic strips and radio serials of his own boyhood.  It had become sort of a rambling saga and each night's episode was called a chapter.

     The heroes were an intrepid pilot and explorer called Smiling Jake, his co-pilot, Calamity Jane, a Professor Otterby and Og, a prehistoric caveman they'd found when their plane had crashed on a remote island.  The villains were the mysterious Mr. X, whom nobody had ever seen, and his henchman Chang.

     "I'm sorry," said Arnold.  "I'll tell you one tonight, a long one."

     Well, thought Arnold, driving to work, I may lose my job and my son hates me.  At least, things can't get any worse.  The first thing he saw when he got to his office was a note telling him to see Prosset as soon as he arrived.      When he entered Prosset's office, he saw that Workhaven was also there, as well as a third man whom he recognized from the last Board meeting as Chauncey Dwight.  

     "You wanted to see me?" Arnold asked Prosset.

     "Yes," said Prosset, waving Arnold to a chair.  Arnold thought, as he always did when in Prosset's office, how spacious and ornate it was compared to the little cubicles everyone else in the agency, including Workhaven, inhabited.  He'd also noticed that Prosset's desk was always completely clear and this morning was no exception.

     Prosset introduced Arnold to Dwight as the agency's new research analyst and then asked Arnold what he estimated the cost of the survey to be.  Arnold replied that, including mailing costs and hiring temporary clerks to code the questionnaires, he thought the survey could be done for under $25,000.  He added that it could be done for less if the survey sample was reduced.

     Prosset looked at Dwight, for whose benefit the question had clearly been asked.  Dwight was a youngish-looking man with a plump face and frosty blue eyes, already going bald.  He held an unlighted pipe in his mouth.  Like Prosset, he wore a dark blue suit with a red tie and Arnold recalled that Dwight was also a Harvard graduate.  He'd worked on the governor's staff in the recent campaign and as his reward was now a deputy director in the all-powerful Finance Department.

     "Hmmm," said Dwight, sucking on the unlighted pipe.  "Add to that the expenses for all those HAC meetings we're sure to have.  It's a considerable amount, considerable.  Exactly where does this survey fit into the agency's overall program?"

     "Well," said Prosset.  "It's an important research project.  Several members of the legislature originally suggested it.  The feds may also be interested because of its implications for national health insurance."

     "But it really wouldn't have any direct bearing on the state's health plans, would it?"

     "The information we get may be helpful."

     "And it may not.  You know we have to cut some things and this would seem to be a good candidate.  Or would you rather cut the travel budget?"

     It was known throughout the agency that most of the travel budget was devoted to Prosset's frequent trips to meetings in places such as Lake Tahoe, Santa Monica and Hawaii.

     "Well, no," said Prosset.  

     "And the program could easily get along without subsidizing air fares for Esterhazy and his fellow doctors."

     Prosset shrugged.  "I suppose so, if something has to be cut."

     "The Governor has never liked Esterhazy's meddling in politics," said Dwight.

     "Well, then, we can do without him."

     That's it, thought Arnold.  Prosset had given up the HAC and the survey.  Just then, Prosset's phone rang.  He motioned to Workhaven to pick it up.  Workhaven listened for a few minutes, then said, "Right.  He'll be over there this morning."

     To Arnold's surprise, Workhaven turned to him and said, "That was the computer center.  They tried a run of our member tape against the Controller's tape yesterday and nothing matched.  The computer kept on printing lists of unmatched records until they finally aborted the job.  It'll probably cost us a couple of thousand dollars."

     Great, thought Arnold.  Just what he needed.  "I'll call Cartwright right away," he said.  Warren Cartwright was the center's system analyst responsible for the agency's data processing.

     "Wait a minute," said Dwight.  "Did I hear there was a computer foul-up that'll cost more money?  What's this about the Controller's tape?"

     "Yes," said Prosset.  "Why are we using that computer time?"

     Arnold explained that In order to send survey questionnaires to health plan members, the agency's tape had to be updated.  He'd found that the tape contained records for members who'd retired, moved out of the state and were even dead.  The Controller's tape contained records only for employees whose premiums the state was actually paying and so was considerably more up-to-date.  The purpose of matching the two tapes was to get rid of the deadwood on the agency's tape.

     "So even before you can do the survey," said Dwight, "you have an extensive amount of computer work to do."

     "It may not be that extensive," said Arnold.  "We've been doing pretty well until now."

     "Yes, and now nothing matches."  He turned to Prosset with an expression that said he rested his case.

     "Well, thank you, Arnold," said Prosset.  "We'll, uh, discuss this later."

     "And, Arnold," said Workhaven, "before you do another match, see me.  I don't want to waste any more of our computer money."

                            *          *          *

     Arnold took a bite of his tasteless sandwich.  "So there you are," he told Cartwright.  "The survey, and my job, are just about finished."  They were having lunch in the center's cafeteria.  Arnold had gone over to the computer center after leaving Prosset's office and, after two hours of studying printouts, he and Cartwight had determined that the problem was a blank field on the member tape which they'd thought to contain matching data to the Controller's tape.  As the field was blank, nothing matched and everything printed out.

     Arnold had just finished describing the HAC meeting of the night before and his encounter with Dwight that morning.  Cartwright shook his head sympathetically.  He was a big man in his late thirties with a large round face and unkempt hair who, Arnold thought, looked more like a farmer than a computer specialist, but he knew his job and was relentless in searching out computer glitches.

 

     "Maybe not," Cartwright said.  "Dwight may be with Finance but he only has one vote.  None of the other Board members likes him and they have to vote on the budget, too."

     "Yeah, but Dwight's the Governor's man.  Prosset has already caved in to him and Workhaven will be happy to back him up."  

     "I don't know," said Edelstein.  "Workhaven is basically concerned about money, but he's a strange guy.  I think he really does put the agency first and wants to do what's best for it."

     "I don't see much hope," said Arnold.

     "Don't give up yet.  This is the state, and anything can happen."

                       *          *          * 

     "You look worried," said Arnold's wife Ellen.

     "Yeah," he said.  They were in the living room.  She was watching television while folding clothes; he'd been pretending to read.  He hadn't told her about his job yet but now he decided he'd better so that she'd be prepared.

     "But the state doesn't just fire people," she said when he'd finished.  "Do they?"

     "Not ordinarily.  But if your project's wiped out and you're cut out of the budget, it's the same thing.  You're out on the street."

     "What about going back to your old agency?"

     "I called them this afternoon and they don't have anything."

     "Oh.  Well, maybe they'll find some money and do the survey after all."

     "Not if Dwight can help it.  Anyway, we'll see."

     Their son Mark came in then and announced that he was ready to go to bed and wanted Daddy to tell him another chapter.

     "Daddy is tired," said Ellen.  "He may not feel like telling you a chapter tonight."

     "That's okay," said Arnold.  Mark got into bed and Arnold sat beside him.  "Where were we?  Oh, yes, Smiling Jake, Jane and the Professor were lured to Castle Dreadful by Mr. X.  Og is battling the cannibals in the forest."  He continued and at the end of the chapter the heroes had all been trapped in the castle dungeon.

     "But Og will come and save them, won't he?" asked David.

     "We'll see next chapter."

                                *          *          * 

     The next week, Prosset summoned Arnold to his office again.  "Sit down," he said.  "I have some good news."  

      Arnold waited expectantly.  Were the HAC and the survey going to survive after all?

     Prosset gave Arnold a smile and said, "I've got another three months for you."

     "What do you mean?" asked Arnold.

     "Dwight wanted to cut out your job immediately but I persuaded him to let it go until the end of the fiscal year.  So you have another three months.  That should be plenty of time for you to look around elsewhere."

     Arnold felt a knot in his stomach.  He shouldn't have been surprised, but he hadn't really believed that this would happen.  He was going to be fired.  "What about the HAC and the survey?" he asked.

     "I'm afraid they're out of the budget," said Prosset.  "I did my best but Dwight was set on that.  There was nothing else I could do."

     "Is that final?" Arnold asked.

     "Well, the budget goes before the Board at its next meeting.  But, yes, I think that's going to be final."  Prosset looked at his watch.  "I have to get to a meeting now. I want you to keep working on straightening out our computer tapes.  That's very valuable."  He stood up, indicating that Arnold was dismissed.

     In the chapter that night, Og, who'd escaped the cannibals and found the castle, was overpowered by sheer numbers and also thrown into the dungeon.

     "How will they get out now?" asked Mark.

     "We'll see next chapter," said Arnold.

     "Mr. X won't really be able to kill them, will he?"

     "I hope not.  Now, good night." 

                            *          *          *

     The auditorium was almost completely filled for the Board meeting.  The nine members of the Board sat behind a long table on the auditorium stage, each with his own stack of papers and glass of water before him.  Dwight sat at one end.    Prosset had been going over the proposed benefits of each health plan for the next fiscal year.  Arnold, sitting in the last row with Cartwright, observed that every time Prosset said no new benefits were planned due to financial constraints, Dwight nodded approvingly.

     Finally, Prosset finished and gave way to Workhaven, who was going to present the agency's budget.  Well, here we go, thought Arnold.  He was going to have the rare opportunity of witnessing his job being taken away in public.

Workhaven methodically went through each budget item.  A number of things, such as equipment and supplies, were substantially reduced but the money for travel had been spared.  Prosset could continue making his trips.  Then Workhaven said, "The Health Advisory Council is to be discontinued after this fiscal year.  The survey of health plan members, which had been requested by several members of the Legislature and which the Council was to have directed, will therefore not be done.  This will result in salary savings due to the loss of one research analyst position."

     So there it was.  In the last few weeks, Arnold had called a number of other state agencies which he knew employed research analysts.  They had all told him the same thing.  Not only were they not hiring but they were also facing budget cuts of their own.

     The Board chairman said, "Are we ready to vote on approval of the budget?"

     Workhaven coughed.  "One minute, if you please, Mr. Chairman.  I have a letter from Dr. Esterhazy which he'd like me to read to you, with the Board's permission."

     The Chairman looked at the other members, then said, "Go ahead." 

     "Wait a minute," said Dwight.  "Why wasn't the Board informed of this letter beforehand?"

     "Dr. Esterhazy has been at a conference with federal health officials in Washington, D.C.," said Workhaven.  "We've only been able to reach him during the last week."

     "This is highly irregular," said Dwight.  He glared at Prosset.  "I'd like to ask the executive officer if he was aware of this."

     "I, uh, have just returned to Sacramento from a meeting in Los Angeles," said Prosset. 

     "I think the Board would like to hear what Dr. Esterhazy has to say, if the member from Finance doesn't mind," said the Chairman, giving Dwight a hard look.  "Please go ahead."

     Workhaven reached into his inside jacket pocket and drew out a piece of paper. "I've been informed," he read, "that the Health Advisory Committee may be cut out of the next fiscal year budget.  I would consider this a monumental mistake.  The Committee has provided expertise in the administration of the state's employee health plans since their inception.

     "The HAC is now prepared to offer its expertise in a survey of health plan members which will provide significant information relating to a possible national health insurance plan. There is, as I've recently ascertained, considerable federal interest in this project.

     "In view of the above, I ask that the Board seriously weigh any action that would discontinue the Health Advisory Committee.  

     "I have been in contact with my colleagues in the state medical associations and they share my view on this matter."

     Cartwright whispered to Arnold, "Those associations are big contributors to both parties."

     Workhaven continued: "Copies of this letter have been sent to the Governor and to all members of the state legislature." 

     "That's putting the pressure on," said Cartweight.  "Look at Dwight, he's squirming."

     "The letter is signed by Dr. Esterhazy," concluded Workhaven.

                    

     "Thank you," said the Chairman.  He looked at the other members.  "What is the pleasure of the Board?"

     One of the Board members, the employee representative, said, "I'd like to propose restoring the money for the HAC and the proposed survey."

     Another Board member said, "I second the motion."

     Dwight spoke up.  "I'd like to remind the Board of the severe budget constraints every state agency is facing."

     "I believe we are well aware of that," said the Chairman dryly.  "Are we ready for a vote on the motion?"

     There was a show of hands.  Of the nine Board members, eight voted Yes; Dwight alone voted No.  "Motion has carried," said the Chairman.  The meeting went on for another half hour but Arnold didn't take anything in.  The last thing he noticed after the vote on the budget was Dwight's pudgy face crumpling up into a pout like a baby being denied its rattle.

     "I don't believe it," he said to Cartwright.

     "I told you this is the state and anything can happen."

     "But, Workhaven?  Do you think it was his doing?"

     Cartwright shook his head.  "Like I said, he's a funny guy."

                          *          *          *

     Arnold didn't get a chance to speak to Workhaven until the next morning.  When he went into Workhaven's office, the assistant executive officer was already behind his desk, which, in contrast to Prosset's, was covered with papers and folders.

    "I just wanted to ask you," said Arnold.  "Is the survey still on?"

     "You were at the Board meeting, weren't you?."

     "So I still have a job?"

     "The survey requires a research analyst to do it." 

     Arnold was about to ask about the letter from Dr. Esterhazy when Prosset came into the office.  "The department meeting is at nine," he said to Workhaven.  "We'd better be on our way.  Do you have everything?"

     Workhaven stood up and put some of the folders into a briefcase.   "Yes, it's all here."

     Prosset turned and seemed to notice Arnold for the first time.  "Oh, there you are, Arnold," he said.  "You'd better set up a meeting of the HAC for next month.  Do you think you can have the survey questionnaire ready by then?"

     "The questionnaire?  Yes, I've been working on it."

     "Good.  Dr. Esterhazy is placing a lot of responsibility on us.  We don't want to let him down."  Prosset strode briskly out, a tall, silver-haired impressive figure.  Workhaven, clutching his briefcase, went to the door of his office, then turned.  "Was there anything else?" he asked Arnold.

     "Uh, I guess not.  Oh, we're going to make the final run of the member tape today.  I think all the glitches have been worked out." 

     "See to it that they are," said Workhaven.  "Remember, we're still on a tight budget."  He hurried out to catch up with Prosset.

  

                          *          *          *  

     In that night's chapter, the water released by Mr. X into the dungeon of Castle Dreadful had almost come up to the ceiling and the heroes were on the verge of drowning.  "Then," said Arnold, "the water suddenly stopped rising and slowly started going down.  The dungeon door opened and a figure said, "Quick, get out while you can.  I'll tell X that you overpowered me and escaped.  It was . . . Chang."

     "Chang?  But I thought he was a bad guy."

     "So did I," said Arnold.  "But I was wrong."

     "What about Mr. X?  Is he still a bad guy?"

     "Definitely.  Some guys are always bad."

     "What will happen next chapter?"

     "We'll have to wait and see.  Now, good night."