"I've been trying to think --" Tony spoke in a clear voice, tears disposed of. He pulled the prepared speech from his breast pocket and began to unfold it. "I've been trying to put into words exactly what that quality was that Happy Hogan possessed. Loyalty is an easy one -- he stuck with me through more disastrous schemes than I dare to recount." A few laughs rose from the audience. He wasn't sure whether they were laughing at him, or with him, but at least they were recovering from the earlier silence.
"You know what, though? It's not about loyalty. Unthinking loyalty, pardon my French, doesn't get you shit. What set happy apart, what made him one of the -- very rare, very important people in my life. Happy was a close friend. He was also an employee. He never forgot who signed the checks, but, when push came to shove, the man just didn't care. He said what he thought. A man in a million. 'The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,' et cetera --" This time Tony didn't think about the tears he was wiping away.
"The Quakers have a name for this -- this quality that my friend possessed. They call it --" and now his gaze turned subtly toward Sally "-- speaking truth to power. Now." He coughed. "Miss Stetins." And now he turned full-on to look at her. "Miss Stetins believes she has taken such a step. I -- well, I cannot agree, on the subject of truth. I believe that the things I do are right; I believe that the choices I make are the best choices. Otherwise, I would not make them. However. Putting aside the nature of truth, and of power, for the moment -- it takes a lot of guts to speak your mind to the man who signs the checks. You're a brave young lady, Sally Stetins. Thank you for your words." He tapped the podium, and turned one last obliging smile at the sea of cameras. "Thank you for support. Excelsior."
Sally held her mother's hand, her grip painfully tight. As Mr. Stark, spoke, though, she glanced at Toni, quickly. confused. Her mother leaned over. "I told you he'd think it took guts, kiddo," she whispered. Sally stared at the man through his speech. When he looked at her, she reluctantly nodded. Not agreement. More like, a truce.
"You know what, though? It's not about loyalty. Unthinking loyalty, pardon my French, doesn't get you shit. What set happy apart, what made him one of the -- very rare, very important people in my life. Happy was a close friend. He was also an employee. He never forgot who signed the checks, but, when push came to shove, the man just didn't care. He said what he thought. A man in a million. 'The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,' et cetera --" This time Tony didn't think about the tears he was wiping away.
"The Quakers have a name for this -- this quality that my friend possessed. They call it --" and now his gaze turned subtly toward Sally "-- speaking truth to power. Now." He coughed. "Miss Stetins." And now he turned full-on to look at her. "Miss Stetins believes she has taken such a step. I -- well, I cannot agree, on the subject of truth. I believe that the things I do are right; I believe that the choices I make are the best choices. Otherwise, I would not make them. However. Putting aside the nature of truth, and of power, for the moment -- it takes a lot of guts to speak your mind to the man who signs the checks. You're a brave young lady, Sally Stetins. Thank you for your words." He tapped the podium, and turned one last obliging smile at the sea of cameras. "Thank you for support. Excelsior."
And he took his seat.
Reply
The reception should be interesting.
Reply
Leave a comment