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Facing the Noise is on hold. I am rewriting it as a book, and it may or may not continue as a serial on the Web. More details soon . . .
Previously: While Ms. Cartwell, Ms. Rigotti and Hottiger were in Dettwiler’s office bickering about the best way to compare activist websites, Dettwiler walked out. He went to a local restaurant, where he sat down to think about life. As he was outlining his analysis, he met Herbert, who had been drinking beer at the bar. After a rocky start, the two had a rewarding conversation about confusing women and power-hungry men. Then Herbert had to leave to keep an appointment.
This is the last of three episodes designed to recap Dettwiler’s experiences over the past few months. In the next episode, he will return to ProEdge and take action.
Tossing and Turning
Twenty minutes later, there were still no promising conversation partners in the restaurant, and Dettwiler began to think about going back to his office. He considered the idea for a good two minutes, then decided against it. He did not want to get pulled into the quagmire of ineffectiveness. Herbert had made some interesting comments, and Dettwiler wanted to give himself time to process this new perspective.
He headed back to his apartment and was in his slippers by 5 p.m. It was strange to be home two hours earlier than normal, but he went ahead with his usual routine of cooking, tidying up and watching educational television. The only educational program broadcast at 6 p.m. was a show about stenciling flowers onto sofa cushions. It was not up to his usual standards, but he could not help appreciating the skill involved in representing complex flora using a minimum of stencil holes.
At 8:30 p.m. he was done with his routine and ready for bed. Before lying down, he went back to the living room in his pajamas and looked around. It was still early, and it seemed there might be something he should be doing. The TV Guide was still on the sofa, so he moved it to the coffee table. Other than that, there did not seem to be anything requiring his immediate attention, so he decided to get plenty of rest before facing the next day.
After five minutes in bed, he got up to open a window and switch pillows. After ten more minutes, he got a drink of water. Then he made himself lie perfectly still.
An image of Ms. Cartwell, Ms. Rigotti and Hottiger floated into his head. He saw them bickering and poking at his keyboard. A wave of irritation swept over him as he wondered whether they had changed all the settings on his computer. Then he began to wonder whether they had found any new negative reports on Artrag.
His chest felt heavy as he thought about Artrag and its job cuts. He kept seeing Hottiger’s face. The CEO was sad and frazzled. He genuinely cared about his company and his employees, and he had not been enthusiastic about moving production to India. The prospect of layoffs tormented him. When someone leaked the information to an activist group and a journalist, he was flabbergasted. It was incomprehensible to Hottiger that anyone could want to hurt Artrag.
Dettwiler had also been surprised by the turn of events. Not only had the Sustainable World activist group put the information on the Internet before Artrag had gotten a chance to go public with it, but the news had spread like wildfire to other Internet sites. Then other information began popping up on the Web.
Dettwiler had taken courses on dealing with the press, but these people did not act like the reporters he knew. They had not asked to speak to him or the Artrag CEO. They could put out their information at any time, and then leave it up for weeks, or change it immediately. He could not monitor it by just looking through the morning papers.
Dealing with reporters was not actually proving to be any more pleasant. Kastler, who had considered himself a pre-eminent investigative journalist ever since his newspaper stopped printing pictures of topless women on its third page, had also received the information before it went public. He had then written a scathing article entitled, “Swiss Machinery Company Abandons Home Community.” Dettwiler began to squirm, despite his resolve to lie still. Kastler did not share Dettwiler’s high regard for facts. He was also aggressive and snippety and just thinking about him made Dettwiler mad.
Dettwiler reached over and set his white-noise player to “Babbling Creek.” When he had calmed down a bit, he began to go through the problems facing Artrag. There were angry employees. There was a leak. There were corporate communicators who ranged from lethargic to misguided. An aggressive journalist was waiting to dig up any dirt he could on the company, and activist groups were looking for a reason to protest. Dettwiler knew something had to be done. He just did not know what.
Hottiger had pressured him to find the leak. The CEO had told Dettwiler to ask the activist group about its source. As Dettwiler began his email to “Chris” at sustainable-world.org, he realized the activist group was never going to tell a public-relations representative where it got its information. He had made up the name “Nico” and sent the email from this new, fictional activist.
Dettwiler felt a jolt go through his body as he remembered pretending to be someone else. It had been bizarrely easy. Then he thought about the response he had received from Chris. The activist had not answered the question about the information source, but he had wanted to know more about Nico. Dettwiler knew he should follow up on this. He had to make Nico interesting to Chris and convince the head of Sustainable World that Nico was trustworthy. Dettwiler tried to think of characteristics that would be considered trustworthy in the activist scene. Focusing his attention was becoming increasingly difficult.
He had just drifted off when his neighbor turned on music. Dettwiler awoke to the first track of what seemed to be the only CD this neighbor owned. It was the surfer who sang the song about banana pancakes. Dettwiler made a mental note to remember to be angry about the disturbance the next morning.
It occurred to him that Nico might listen to this same kind of music. Dettwiler pictured the activist typing an email with the music playing in the background. Then things shifted, and Nico was walking down a sidewalk. Dettwiler was there too. Someone was carrying a skateboard. Dettwiler tried to figure out where they were going, but the buildings kept moving further and further away.
The next thing he knew, he was turning off his alarm and jumping out of bed. He dressed quickly and left for work ten minutes earlier than usual. He had a plan.
To be continued Friday, August 24th
© Stephanie Schwartz 2007
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