Remembering Andrew's views about all cold medicines, she asked, "Is System 5 any good?" "I had our chemists check it out. They say it's okay. Nothing world-shaking, and no better than we could produce ourselves, starting from scratch if we needed to.”
Ingram ran a hand through his perpetually untidy red hair.”But System 5 does what it's supposed to and it's already on the market with a reasonable sales base, so we wouldn't start from zero.”
"Yes, that's important.”
Celia was aware that economics were on the side of adapting an O-T-C product which had some acceptance already, rather than introducing something entirely new. Not only was any new item incredibly costly to launch, but most new products failed, often taking their supporters down to obscurity with them. "Give me a written report with all the details, Bill," she instructed. "I'll look them over. If I think it's a good idea, I'll talk to Sam.” A few days later Celia did think it a good idea and made a recommendation to buy the Michigan company-and thereby the cold medication System 5. As a result the small company was quietly acquired through an intermediary law firm, the vendors unaware of whom the lawyers represented. Such methods were standard, since announcing that a major drug house was interested would have pushed the purchase price sky high. Soon after, the other products of the acquired company were sold ofr and the Michigan plant closed. Manufacture of System 5, and a few of the people working with it, were transferred to Bray & Commonwealth's New Jersey plant. Bill Ingram was charged with improving and expanding sales of System 5. He began by ordering a striking, modem package design in orange and gold, an attractive matching plastic container to replace the green glass bottle in which the medicine had been sold previously, and renaming it System 500. "Those extra numbers," he argued, when reporting to Celia, "will imply we've strengthened the product at the same time we redesigned it. Matter of fact, our chemists are making a change or two in formulation so manufacturing will be more efficient.”
Celia studied the material presented, then said, "I suggest an extra line of copy immediately beneath the name.”
She scribbled on a sheet of paper:
System 500 The SYSTEMATIC Cold Fighter
and passed it to Ingram. He regarded her admiringly.”Brilliant! It'll make people feel they can be organized in getting rid of their colds. They'll love it!" Celia thought, Forgive me, Andrew! She reminded herself once more, All this is only for a year-then remembered how quickly time had gone by and that it was already a year and a half since her transfer to Bray & Commonwealth. I've become so engrossed, she reflected, sometimes I forget about moving back to the prescription drug side. Besides, what's happening here is Jun. Bill Ingram was continuing, enthusiastically as usual.”In another six months, when the new packaging has taken hold, we can launch the tablets.”
"What tablets?" He looked pained.”You haven't read my memo?" Celia pointed to a stack of papers on her desk.”It's probably in there. So tell me.”
"Okay. Tablets are just another way of selling System 500. Ingredients will be the same, the effect the same. But we'd advertise separately and get double exposure. Of course, we will dilute the ingredients for the children's version. That one will be called System 50, the smaller figure showing...”
"Yes," Celia said.”Yes, I get the idea-smaller figure, smaller people.”
She laughed. "Next winter," Ingram went on, undeterred, "when whole families are down with colds, my memo suggests we introduce a large, family-size System 500 bottle. If that catches on, we'd follow with an even larger one-in the trade they call it an 'Oh-my-Goff size.”
"Bill," Celia said, still laughing.”You're getting to be too much! But I like it. How about System 500 in aspic?" "For the carriage trade?" Now he was laughing with her.”I'll work on it.”
And while Celia and O-T-C were meshed fructiferously, events elsewhere moved on as always-with tragedy, comedy, conflict, nobility, sadness, laughter and human folly-bounding or shuffling onstage, sometimes as entities, occasionally all together. The British and French announced confidently, as they had on and off for a hundred and fifty years, that work would shortly begin on a Channel tunnel. Jack Ruby, killer of President Kennedy's assassin, Oswald, was found guilty and sentenced to death. President Johnson succeeded, where Kennedy had failed, in having a strong civil rights bill passed by Congress. Four saucy, charming Liverpudlians with the unlikely title of the Beatles were causing their music and a cult dubbed "Beatlemania" to sweep the world. In Canada, during a nationwide wrangle combining anger and silliness, the country adopted a new national flag. Winston Churchill, who had appeared likely to survive forever, died at ninety. And in the United States something called the Gulf of Tonkin resolution, relating to a faraway country, Vietnam, was eased through Congress with little attention paid, and less awareness that its consequences would alienate a generation and tear America asunder. "I want to watch the TV news tonight," Andrew told Celia on an evening in August 1965.”There's been rioting and burning in a place called Watts. It's part of Los Angeles.”
They were at home for a family evening, which both of them cherished, though recently such occasions were fewer since Celia's work now required her to travel, and sometimes she was away for days at a time. Because of this, and to compensate, the children joined their parents for the evening meal whenever possible. Celia liked the children, also, to see their grandmother, thoughto general regret-the visits from Mildred were less frequent nowadays, due to her failing health. Asthma had long been a problem for Celia's mother, and lately it had worsened. Andrew suggested that Mildred come to live with them, where he could take care of her, but she declined, preferring her independence and the modest Philadelphia home where she had lived since Celia was small.
But Andrew's response was reflexive, automatic. The mental depression produced by the televised scenes from Watts had stayed with him. So had a crucial personal problem, not related to Celia or his family-a problem that had already caused him anguish and would not, could not go away.
"The dilemma is," Sam Hawthorne told Celia next day, "you've been too successful--or, rather, far more successful than anyone expected. You are a goose producing golden eggs, which is why you've been left alone at Bray & Commonwealth.”
They were in Sam's office at Felding-Roth headquarters-a meeting arranged at Celia's request and at which she had just asked for a transfer from her O-T-C duties. "I have something here which may interest you," Sam said. Reaching across his desk, he shuffled several file folders, pulled one free from the others and opened it, From the other side of the desk Celia could see that it contained financial statements. "This hasn't been circulated yet, but the board of directors will see it soon.”
Sam put his finger on a figure.”When you went over to Bray & Commonwealth, revenues from that division were ten percent of all Felding-Roth sales. This year the figure will be fifteen percent, with profit up proportionately.”
Sam closed the folder and smiled.”Of course, you were helped a little by a falloff in prescription drugs sales. Just the same, it's a tremendous achievement, Celia. Congratulations!" "Thank you.”
Celia was pleased. She had expected the figures to be favorable, though not as outstanding as those Sam had just reported. She considered briefly, then told him, "I think O-T-C will keep its momentum, and Bill Ingram has become very good. Since, as you just said, prescription sales are down, maybe I could help out there.”
"You will," Sam said.”I promise it. Also, we may have something special and interesting for you. But be patient for a few months more.”