2. The Consultant

Brad was one of the most humble dudes around. With his quiet manner, no one would suspect him of being the answer-man for many big-wigs from so many places. Brad charged only a modest fee for his services, and often had 20 clients a day wanting his time.

It’s hard to believe, but Brad only had a high school education. He wasn’t the “brainy” type, but he loved people, animals, and most of all, he loved to solve problems. These problems were like a game he would play by juggling various factors he thought would render the best solution. He could sift through major and minor points of various options and ingeniously weave them into winning scenarios for his clients, who often wondered how he did it! He just explained it as, "my gift." While giving great solutions for long-distance callers, he had better success from personal visits. 

Note his modus operandi:

First, Brad greeted his client warmly. Each sat opposite one-another. Many felt a little uneasy as Brad looked them over, some suspecting he was sizing them up before taking them apart! But he was harmless.

Each client was asked questions to reveal the scope and particulars of the problem—its history, the frame-work nesting it, and lastly, the client's goals. In other words, Brad had to figure which out of several options achieved each client’s need. But watch out! If Brad thought those goals were off base, he would frankly say so! This was obviously not a good way to attract return-business.

Measured by Brad’s philosophy, some challenges he refused to engage, with no hesitation: If he thought his participation would downgrade society, such as promoting a company manufacturing junk food or causing environmental damage, he refused the job. While that reduced his business, plenty of others came knocking at his door.

Being honest in a frank way was easy for Brad, but hard on most others. Social gaming had become so entrenched that people were not even aware of playing it. Meanwhile, Brad could see through it all. A person’s hang-ups (such as emotional denials and false bravado) seriously skewed a client’s perceptions. Brad had to work around them, which at times almost turned a problem-solving discussion into a personal counseling session.

Even though Brad made a nice chunk of money, he lived in a very humble home—adequate but nothing to brag about. Rumors circulated that he helped the poor and donated big sums to the local food kitchen for the homeless. But nobody knew for sure—or they weren’t telling.

Another thing—he was 35 and not married. So it was with some interest that he accepted today's client—an unmarried female about his age, a very impressive CEO of a private school cooperative. (These institutions had increased their efficiency by sharing ideas, facilities and even personnel.) This unusual group had the student’s welfare at heart rather than profits as their prime objective. 

Sharlene Giavoni introduced herself, took a seat, and laid out the co-op’s problem:  “We have our group of schools so well integrated and efficient that we're gaining national attention, even from public educators,” she began. “So we’ve basically achieved one major goal of the co-op. But another problem has risen that we can’t resolve. No matter how well we’re teaching, many students at one school aren’t excited about learning. Morale is low, no matter what we do. Even the teachers seem to be affected. We’re stymied!”

Brad asked questions about the methods of teaching, but none seemed to reveal the problem. He could see that whatever the matter was, the cause lay within the students, not the school. “May I visit this school and see this problem first hand?” he asked. “Yes,” said Sharlene, who would personally take him there. Using her cell phone, she arranged for a class tour the next day. She would pick him up at his office, at home.

The next day they drove to the American Eagle Academy a few miles away. He found its 138 students polite and somewhat subdued. Even the teachers were matter-of-fact, or a little despondent. Brad said he would give her the answer soon, and Sharlene took him home.

Since it was dinner time, he invited her to stay and witness his skills as a chef, and she accepted. He donned a ridiculous brown apron displaying a lion on the front, and secured by two Velcro-tipped ties, attached at the back. “I made it myself,” he bragged. “I can tell,” she said, noting several smashed staples attaching the ties. “Brown covers many sins,” he added. She offered to help, but he would have none of it. Her role was to admire.

By using extra salad dressing, she was able to down the bitter dandelion greens he’d added. Otherwise, the meal was tasty and sufficient. After some chit-chat, she excused herself and left to return home. The visit had been very pleasant.

The next day, Brad called Sharlene to say he had the answer: “Have the drinking water analyzed immediately by the health department. I recommend that no one drink the water.” As it turned out, the water was polluted by a toxic underground plume slowly seeping into the school’s water supply from old mine tailings in the foothills a couple of miles away.  The school immediately began providing bottled water for both teachers and students, who began feeling better within a week.

Meanwhile, Brad and Sharlene saw more of each other. Sharlene’s curiosity about Brad’s problem-solving gift grew as she witnessed more and more success generated by this remarkable man.

After another dinner together, she asked him how he did it. “Actually, it’s pretty simple,” he said. “Anyone can do it with dedicated effort. I have to focus, relax, empty my mind of worry and tension, and then I find out.” “But how could it be that simple?” she asked. “Well, if you promise not to tell anyone, I do have another secret!” She was anxious to know, and promised not to tell.

“Because I trust you, I have an older and wiser family member who helps me with the answers I seek. But I can’t tell you his name. You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

Just then the phone rang. It was an emergency. Brad listened intently to the caller. “I will call you back in a few minutes with the answer,” he promised.

He hung up the phone, and was greatly concerned.  “Sharlene, I’m very sorry but I have some work to do. Lives are at stake if I don’t help the man who just called—within the hour!”

Sharlene wanted to be part of his success. Perhaps she could suggest ideas to spark his genius. She would love to do that. But the look in his eyes told her she was not welcome during this crisis. There must be no interruption in Brad’s concentration, especially when others were in danger. 

She grabbed her purse as he opened the front door, and then waved as she got in her car and drove off.  Sharlene wondered who this family member was, who gave such great advice to Brad. The question begged for an answer. She drove around the corner and parked.

Daylight was fading as she got out of the car, and walked off the sidewalk to muffle her steps on the soft grass as she returned to Brad’s house. Then she slowly crept up to a window in the only room with a light on. Yes, she felt naughty, but not naughty enough to mind her own business. As she deftly approached the open window, she heard Brad’s pleading voice:

“Dear Heavenly Father . . .  ”