The Romarliad
(Incomplete so far)
During
my school days, I lived in Zíma, the most important city in the region between
the Scródla Mountains and the shores of the Mandrámbic Ocean. We Zímans prided
ourselves on the beauty and prosperity of our city, its numerous landmarks and
historic sites, its metro with its bullet trains, and its fine schools and
universities. Here and there, one sees handsome statues and fountains,
malls and towers, stadiums and parks. There's a broad esplanade that
circles Lémbaca Lagoon, which is contained in its entirety within our city
limits. Small craft that sail the lagoon, when moored all in a row, make
a pretty sight. Our perennially warm evenings invite people to the
esplanade to relax or socialize.
We
go to school between the ages of 4 and 20, at the very least. Advanced
studies might last till the age of 30. But we live more than 100 years,
so the investment of time is usually worthwhile.
It's
a fact of life in Zíma and in our country VIsquégana generally that all the
best pupils in our schools are girls. Women absolutely dominate our
society. They run the government, and industry and commerce. They
oversee transportation and communication. They are the leading
educators. Our most prestigious writers, artists and musicians are women
without exception. Everyone accepts this cultural femininity as a
matter of course.
It
makes sense then that enrollment in our best schools is limited to girls.
My school, which was called Zíma Réssamact #7, had a student body of 2000 girls
in the years of my attendance. I was considered the very best of all the
pupils, scoring 100% consistently on examinations and always winning
competitions. They said that Ennadíssa--that's my name--was a prodigy, a
genius. Naturally, I was proud of my achievement and appreciative of the
honor accorded me, and I tried not to be arrogant or condescending in my
manner.
When
I was in the fourteenth grade, at the age of 17, my distinction began to
decline, however. It was that year, our year 6505, that Romárlia first
appeared in our school, also as a student in the fourteenth grade.
Almost
immediately, Romárlia was recognized as a superb pupil, a girl of unsurpassable
ability and talent. She was outstanding in every way, supernaturally
intelligent, divinely beautiful, witty, charming and kind. She was an
excellent ballerina, a budding horsewoman and an accomplished gymnast.
She knew science, mathematics, languages and history far beyond the levels
expected of girls in our age-group.
When
Romárlia first began to attract the notice of the teachers and other pupils, I
felt a twinge of envy and resentment. I had been upstaged.
Eventually, though, the negative feelings passed away, and I found myself
falling in love with Romárlia. It is not terribly uncommon in Visquégana
for one girl to be linked to another, but my attachment went beyond the
usual degree.
I
asked Romárlia if I might be her friend and attendant. I explained that I
thought she had a brilliant future, which I wanted to try to further, if she
would let me. I was thrilled when she accepted my proposal saying that
she was flattered by my attentions. Thus began my lifelong relationship
with Romárlia, as I helped her ascend to the very pinnacle of majesty and
glory.
Romárlia
hailed from Ríngda, another city in Visquégana, some 500 miles south of
Zíma. Her parents, sisters and brothers had remained in Ríngda. In
fact, it was Romárlia's desire for independence that had brought her to
Zíma. Though she was not wealthy, she had received an inheritance that
afforded her this opportunity. In Zíma, she rented an apartment, where
she lived alone as she attended school. Everyone seemed to agree that,
though this kind of existence might not be advisable for the average girl of
her age, Romárlia had the intelligence and maturity to manage her own affairs
without the protective oversight of parents or guardians.
She
had deposited a substantial amount of money in an account at Grávnalit Bank, in
Zíma. The interest on the account did not defray Romárlia's expenses
entirely, and, in order to go on living life as she preferred, she had
to withdraw amounts from the principal as well. Seeing that, sooner
or later, the principal would be exhausted in this way, Romárlia decided to
open a small business. Since I knew my way around Zíma, I offered to help
Romárlia in any way I could, and, as it turned out, my offer was not just an
empty promise.
Romárlia
decided that she would open a store and café aimed at attracting the girls from
Réssamact #7. She wanted to carry a line of school supplies, as well as
clothes and accessories, amd set up a small canteen or
cafeteria. Iggídiarc, my aunt, owned a building in the vicinity of the
school that had about 20 spaces for stores, with a couple of vacancies.
Telling Aunt Iggídiarc all about Romárlia and her great potential, I persuaded
her to make available one of the vacancies for a very reasonable rental.
Romárlia knew enough about Zíma to recognize a bargain when she saw it, and she
snapped up Iggídiarc's offer. Her grateful kiss was my commission.
I
helped Romárlia organize the store. She purchased showcases, racks, a
counter with a cash register and scanner, drapes and other furnishings, and
together we arranged everything. I declined her offer to compensate me
for my hours, suggesting that, if at some later time, when she had begun to
make her business go, she wanted to give me some sort of bonus, it might be
welcome, but for the time being, my interest lay only in launching her venture
auspiciously.
Also
I agreed to work in the store, alongside Romárlia, in the evenings. She
didn't have to pay me, I assured her. This would be a lark. I
wanted to be her best friend, and if she treated me to supper, or gave me a
token gift now and then, I'd be just delighted. She said she could hardly
believe that I was being so kind but was certainly glad that I was.
The store-café was a
big success. Not only was it very tastefully decorated, but the prices
were attractive, thanks in part to my efforts in her behalf. The girls
came in number, and we transacted lots of business. The name of the store-café
was Romárlia's Varieties. The success of this enterprise was
really exceptional for a girl of her age.
She started a
separate account at Grávnalit Bank for the earnings from Romárlia's Varieties.
In very few months,
she had enough saved to open a second store. She changed the name of Romárlia's
Varieties to
Romárlia Seven, because we were at Réssamact #7
School, and she was planning to found a sister store near Réssamact
#6. The second store would be called Romárlia
Six.
Romárlia Six proved
to be a great success as well. Romárlia hired girls to work in her
stores, and she and I directed jointly. I declined monetary compensation,
but accepted a partnershup offered me by Romárlia, saying that I wanted to
reinvest in the chain of stores any earnings that accrued to me. Soon
there was a Romárlia Eleven, then a Romárlia Eight. She seemed to be an
inspired young businesswoman, which was really no surprise to me.
She also made me a
joint tenant in her business account at Grávnalit Bank, authorizing me to make
deposits and withdrawals relative to our shared business enterprise. Of
course, I made such deposits and withdrawals with great care, keeping accurate
records of my receipts aand expenditures.
I was honored that
she trusted me so completely.
At the age of 18,
Romárlia owned half a dozen stores, and was earning very impressive
profits. The Rúznam of Zíma, one of the local newspapers, carried a
laudatory article about her, with her photograph. I was mentioned in the
article as her partner. On the strength of that article. Romárlia was
able to design and imprint a brochure about our stores, to present to
prospective investors and associates.
I was mildly shocked
when Romárlia told me she thought we could increase our earnings if she bought
a small factory in Zíma to make some of the apparel being sold in her
stores. She didn't have enough money in the bank to buy the
factory-warehouse she had in mind outright, but the stores were worth enough
that she thought she could use them for collateral to apply for a loan.
With the loan, she would organize the business, and if it proved profitable,
she could foresee no difficulty with meeting payments on the loan. If the
business didn't do as well as she expected, she might lose one or more of her
stores, but that was a risk she was willing to take. She asked me my
opinion on the subject, but she had thought it out so well, there was little I
could do but compliment her, At least, in my inexperience, it seemed
so. Romárlia exuded self-confidence and enthusiasm, whereas I tend to
entertain doubts and worries in challenging situations. I sought to
conceal these feelings, lest I dampen her spirit.
The undertaking
proceeded according to plan, almost without a hitch. Romárlia raised
about 200 qalzans for the venture. A 'qalzan' is a monetary unit; the
average workman in Zíma earns 100 qalzans a year. She made a down-payment
of about 100 qalzans on the factory-warehouse, a 15 by 20 meter building with
pumice-block walls, a concrete floor, and a corrugated metal roof on steel
joists. The other 100 qalzans she spent on equipment and supplies.
Our days were getting
hectic, as Romárlia expanded her operations, and often we were up past
midnight, at the stores and factory. Originally, we had gone about on the
metro or in cabs, but, as a time-saving device, Romárlia bought a modest car
and drove us as we made our stops. We hired some girls to make skirts,
blouses, jackets and bags in the factory, and we packaged them there in vinyl
envelopes and stored them on steel racks inside. From this supply we
began to stock our stores, realizing an appreciable savings. So Romárlia
largely discontinued her wholesale purchases from other makers. The loan
was being paid, the facility was being maintained and there was money left
over. Increasing the number of seamstresses and buying more sewing
machines, Romárlia was able to produce more clothes than were needed for her
own stores. So she offered girls' clothes wholesale to other retailers in
the vicinity. Our styles, some of which I designed myself, were very
popular. This was because, essentially, we knew what our market, girls in
our own age-group, wanted and would buy.
It wasn't long until
Romárlia opened a second factory and a couple more stores, and was employing
over 100 people. She didn't have any serious problems with her employees,
as everyone liked and admired her, and she dealt honestly and fairly with
everyone.
She told me that she
felt that opening a third factory in Zíma would be overdoing it slightly.
The market for the clothes that we were manufacturing was already being
supplied by her first two factories. However, she speculated that it
might be worthwhile to buy a factory in Vulérstia, a town of Zima's size 75
miles west of Zíma. She proposed that I take charge of all the operations
in Zíma for the time being, as school was in recess for the
summer, while she traveled to Vulérstia to explore the situation
there. By this time I was making regular draws on the bank account at
Grávnalit bank for business and personal expenses, the latter being kept to a
minimum, but it did not amount to a regular salary, since I took money only as
needed. Romárlia never uttered a word of complaint or criticism about
this. We seemed to have a perfect tacit agreement.
I was burning the
midnight oil so to speak, as I was also keeping up with my studies, in
anticipation of the coming school year. Fortunately, I found them easy
enough to manage with good speed. In a little over a year, we would
be graduating from school, and it remained to be seen whether either or both of
us would pursue advanced studies.
My parents viewed all
this with amazement and pride, but expressed concern that I had assumed too big
a burden for my tender years. I assured them that I felt fine and that if
things got to a point where I felt I could no longer cope with my obligations,
I would take steps to reduce my involvement.
Romárlia toured
Vulérstia and visited merchants there, distributing her brochure. She
also visited the chamber of commerce and various organizations of city boosters
there. Finally, she decided to go ahead with her idea and she rented a
factory-warehouse like the ones in Zima, with an option to buy, which involved
a retroactive application of rent payments to the down payment she'd have to
make. She had herself helped draw up the details of the contract,
feeling she did not need an attorney to represent her. She bought
equipment, hired people and started manufacturing clothes. In order to
launch the factory in Vulérstia, she said she'd spend the rest of summer
vacation in Vulérstia. Thereafter, she would return to Zíma, but she
and I would visit Vulérstia regularly to make sure that all was going well.
Soon we would enter
our seventeenth and final year of school.
By the time school
was back in session, the new factory in Vulérstia was running smoothly.
Romárlia left in charge a young lady named Zémsha, a local girl whom she felt
she could trust. The third factory also was going great guns by mid-year,
and revenues were coming in beyond all expectations, at least beyond what I had
foreseen, but Romárlia, while pleased, seemed to take it all in stride.
The account at Grávnalit Bank was growing handsomely, and Romárlia bought two
new cars, one for herself and one for me, trading in the one she had bought the
year before. Now we could both run errands, visiting separate operations
simultaneously.
Running a number of
retail stores and three small factories, with a constant flow of materials,
supplies and personnel proved to be a lot of work, even though many of the
routine chores, including those of supervision, had been delegated to
others. Romárlia had been doing research and making estimates with an eye
to organizing some kind of business that would not require so much tedious
activity. According to her line of thinking, if she sold all of her
factories and stores, either as a package or piecemeal, at a price reasonably
close to her best estimate, we should have enough money to buy a sizable office
building in downtown Zíma, making a down
payment of 1500 qalzans or so. This might be $750,000 in earthly terms.
She
figured that we could provide maintenance, security and other necessary
services by forming contracts with firms that specialize in such matters.
In effect, then, we would have much less legwork and supervision to weary us,
while we would earn as much as or more than we had been earning. I wasn't
so sure that everything would work out according to Romárlia's projections, and I raised
some caveats, but she had sensible answers, as if such reservations had already
occurred to her.
Romárlia and I formed
a regular corporation for this new venture. Even though we both trusted
each other completely, she felt that formalizing the partnership would be
salutary. We sold all of the stores and two of the factories, leaving
only the factory in Vulérstia in operation, as it had proved very profitable.
We called the new business R & E Properties, for Romárlia and Ennadíssa.
Incidentally, people in VIsquégana generally use only single names. There
is no such thing as a surname.
Just
a few days before we graduated from school, in 6508, R and E Properties purchased
a five-story building with glass-and-steel curtain walls, right downtown, with
one side commanding a panoramic view of Lémbaca Lagoon. Our office was
inside the building itself. Our down-payment amounted to about 15% of the
appraised value of the building. Rents would easily cover expenses,
leaving us a very comfortable margin. Romárlia suggested that the
previous management was overstaffed with high-salaried employees whom we
ourselves, alone, could easily outperform. Thus we could increase
profits, especially since we were committed to a regimen of personal thrift.
It
did indeed turn out that we had much less routine work to do, but it also
weighed heavily upon us that mistakes would be far more costly. We had
only 4 or 5 hours of administrative work each day, which left us free to
explore new possibilities. Even though Romárlia and I were the same age,
with the same educational background, it seemed that she always took the lead
in our discussions. This was not because she was domineering or more
outspoken. It was because she was always better informed than I, however
this state of affairs had come about. She seemed always to have the
answers to my questions and to be able to make decisions, whenever I was
vacillating. Yes, though we were partners, she was in charge. Both
she and I found this natural and agreeable.
She
would give me little briefings on what to look for if I were going to go out to
investigate a small building or store that we learned was for sale. At
this juncture, it was premature to think of another large building like the one
we already had, but our profits did enable us to contemplate some smaller,
accessory operations. How she had become so knowledgeable in these
matters is something that I could never fathom, but seeing her in action and
listening to her explanations, I could not entertain any doubt about her right
to be my tutor and advisor.
We
shied away from the purchase of any apartment buildings, concentrating more on
commercial real estate, mini-malls, stores and especially office space for
doctors, dentists, accountants and other professionals. We felt that
rents would flow more smoothly, with fewer enforced collections and defaults.
I
rented a modest apartment in this period, and moved out of my parents' house,
while Romárlia remained in the apartment she had rented when she first arrived
in Zíma. We both could actually have afforded more lavish quarters, but
discussing it again and again, we came to an understanding that it would be
more beneficial in the long run, if we lived modestly for the time being,
earning and saving.
Now
that we had more free time, Romárlia resumed her dancing, riding and
gymnastics. She cajoled me into taking ballet lessons too, and I did
fairly well, although by no means would I ever be a swan of Romárlia's
grace. We rode together now and then, renting horses from a local stable
and using the bridle paths in Thríscula Park, which nearly encircles Zíma,
looping around for miles.
If
you had told me what dizzying heights Romárlia had in the back of her mind in
those days, I would not have believed it. The average person owning an
office building at the age of 20 would feel as if she had make her mark and be
content to live the good life that this afforded her. But Romárlia had
other things in mind than buying and managing real estate in Zíma. I just
didn't know about her dreams and hopes. Perhaps she didn't want to
discuss the future she envisioned until she was more certain of the likelihood
of its attainment. In that way she would not face the embarrassment of
admitting defeat if her aspirations miscarried.
As
for me, I had never imagined that I would reach even the position in which we
now found ourselves. I had considered advanced studies, thinking that later
on I would be a professional in the medical or scientific community, but now I
was willing to postpone such studies. I spent more and more time looking
for ways to improve and expand our business, with Romárlia always leading the
way.
The
months rolled on, we worked and saved, and by mid-year in 6509, we were able to
buy a second sizable building, selling off some of the smaller stores and
offices we had been leasing. The second building was about a quarter-mile
from the first, on the same avenue, Lagoon Drive, that circles Lémbaca
Lagoon. These were both very smart, modern office buildings, perhaps not
the most upscale buildings in Zíma, but very handsome nonetheless.
