williamson

by nick nelson

despite being constantly assured that he was the center of the universe, by his doctors and by his employees, william williamson was never completely convinced that he was. one day he somehow escaped from the doctors and the employees and went for a walk in the park. he came across a rather formidable looking nanny supervising a rather sullen looking female child, who looked to be about five years old. good morning, william williamson addressed the nanny. good morning to you, sir, the nanny replied politely. a lovely day, isn’t it? william williamson asked the nanny. indeed it is, sir, she agreed. may i ask you a question? certainly, sir. do you know who i am? of course, sir. you are mr william williamson, the richest man in the world and the center of the universe. everybody knows you, mr williamson. mr williamson was somewhat disappointed by this response, but smiled politely and turned to the little girl, who had been scowling savagely at him throughout his conversation with the nanny. do you know who i am, young lady? he asked. i am not deaf, asterisk, the little girl answered. but even if i had not heard your insipid conversation with dorcas, of course i know who you are. you are the daffodilbrained asterisk who has flubbed up the world forever with his moronic mismanagement of the planet and the universe. so on behalf of all living creatures, i say to you - go flub yourself, asterisk. you will have to excuse the child, the nanny said. she has taken her medicine this morning but it has not yet completely taken effect. i understand perfectly, william williamson assured the nanny. i often have the same problem myself. and with that he took a hasty leave of the nanny and the child, feeling the child’s baleful state boring a hole in his back as he hurried down the park’s twisting path. he came upon a pair of bums conversing earnestly on a park bench. one of the bums was big and the other was small. the big one was called bill and he wore a purple hat and a black cravat. the little one was called jim lee and he wore a green vest that had been put to the test. they were not the only big bill and the only jim lee in the world, but they were each one of them. big bill left off haranguing jim lee when he saw william williamson. hey, look, he cried, it’s williamson! yo, williamson, we got a few bones to pick with you, man. i am at your service, sir, williamson replied politely. how may i assist you today? it’s persimmons, man, big bill began. the persimmon farmers in the mogreb valley can’t get their product to the people because of the holdup in the panama canal. they can go around cape town but that wipes out their profit margin. you got to do something , man. something did not sound quite right about the fellow’s complaint, but william williamson nodded and smiled. he found something oddly reassuring about the conversation. i will look into it, he told big bill. but what about the kumquats, man? jim lee asked. what about them? william williamson asked in his imperturbable manner. they can’t get their message out, man, they are a great source of vitamin c but they can’t get their message out! the kumquat growers can’t get their message out, and do you know why? because they advertise on rowan and martin re-runs and they are on at three in the morning! they got to get a more better time slot! i never knew the world was so complicated, william williamson thought. he assured jim lee that he would also look into the kumquat growers' plight, and although neither big bill nor jim lee looked completely mollified, they did not expostulate further and he made his escape and continued down the winding path. a light rain began to fall. the path through the park seemed to grow narrower. at a bend in the path he saw the most ordinary looking little man he had ever seen, sitting on a bench apparently oblivious to the rain. as mr williamson wanted to get out of the rain himself, he tried to pass the little man without noticing or being noticed by him, but it was not to be. mr williamson! the little man greeted him. at your service, sir. you are mr william williamson, are you not? i am. i just want to say, mr williamson, that i am one of your biggest fans, and that i think you are doing a great job. why, thank you. don’t let the bushwhackers get you down, sir. remember what they said about julius caesar and abraham lincoln. it takes one to know one. and if you burn down the whole city, naturally you burn down city hall. so just put your head down and keep on doing what you are doing . but before mr williamson could think of a suitable reply to his admirer, he heard the sound of vehicles and voices on the path behind him. he heard the whirring of a helicopter overheard. mr williamson! mr williamson! we thought we had lost you! a squadron of his security force suddenly surrounded him, hustled him gently into an armored car, and took him back to his headquarters. the incident was hushed up, and new measures were put into effect, to make it harder for mr william williamson to escape again. but he was still not completely convinced that he was the center of the universe.