novel 88 - 17. 230 million dollars

by nick nelson

part 17 of ?

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bradley barfield unlocked the sagging door of his miserable fourth floor room and tucker underwood followed him inside. why does he bothers to lock it, tucker wondered, it looks like anyone could just reach in and open it. bradley switched on a lamp. it barely lit up the room. he pointed to a chair. a black turtleneck sweater was draped across the back of the chair and a painting about twenty-six inches square sat on the chair facing outward for viewing. what do you think? bradley asked. i like it, tucker said aloud. it’s pretty good. in his head he thought, it is worth two hundred and thirty million dollars. but how much do you think it it worth? bradley asked um - hard to say. the market is pretty volatile right now. i am not volatile. i am starving. what will you give me for it? it is hard to say. i could give you something for it, based on what i think i can get for it today, and then next week i might get a lot more and you would think i was cheating you. i don’t need a lesson on economics 101 - i went to business school just like you did. yes, those were the happy carefree days, weren’t they? will they ever come back again? they might come back for me if you buy this painting before i starve to death. all right - i will give you seventy-five dollars for it. i will take it. this is too easy, tucker thought. his hand trembled as he reached into his pocket for his wallet, and bradley noticed it. what are you nervous about? bradley suddenly demanded. you are not trying to cheat me, are you? you said you would take whatever i gave you. i did not say that! hey, keep the noise down in there - people are trying to sleep! i am sorry, mrs moriarty , bradley shouted back. it won’t happen again. with a wild yet crafty look in his eyes, bradley turmed back to tucker. now, where were we? i said i would give you seventy-five dollars for the painting - the one on the chair there. you are trying to cheat me, man. i put my whole heart and soul into it, and it is worth at least ninety. i will give you ninety-five for it. next

novel 88 - 16. the painting

by nick nelson

part 16 of ?

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dear mr dream, i hope you are well. thank you again for all your wonderful suggestions and for taking the time from your busy schedule to offer me your wonderful help and encouragement. i hope you will not think i am ungrateful if i tell you i have come up with an an idea of my own! here is the beginning. any comment you might make would be infinitely welcome, though of course i understand if you are too busy or just not interested. sincerely, joe lonelyroom the painting that fellow looks familiar, tucker underwood thought. it was a cold and rainy night. tucker and the familiar looking individual were the only patrons of the cafe de whatever, a once thriving establishment that tucker had frequented in his days as an aspiring young artist. tucker had long since given up his dream of being a great and famous artist, and had established himself as a player on the street, but he occasionally dropped in to his old haunt on the chance that he might meet an acquaintance from the old days, or just for a quick breath of nostalgia. tucker picked up his cup of the house’s special blend, and moved over to the familiar man’s table. do you mind if i sit here? he asked in his politest voice. suit yourself, the man answered, without pulling his face up from the heavy blue scarf wrapped around his skinny neck. i thought i recognized you from somewhere, tucker continued, after seating himself. i would hope so. i am bradley barfield, your old chum from international art school, and i taught you everything you knew although you were too much of a natural born bourgeois to profit from it. i see you seem to be doing well for himself. why, of course, bradley, i could kick myself, or shoot myself, for not recognizing you sooner. it must be the heavy blue scarf, ot maybe the two days beard. i remember you as always clean shaven and rosy cheeked, and quite the attraction for the fair sex, besides being the most promising artist in the school. as for myself, yes, i am doing all right, now that i i have found my natural environment in the world of finance. may i buy you a cup of coffee, or a croissant? you can buy one of my pictures. i might just do that. do you happen to have one with you? i have some in my hovel, which is just around the corner. then i would be happy to take a look at them. you can finish your coffee first. there is no hurry. * does this elevator work? sometimes. my room is on only on the fourth floor. you look like you spend most of your life in a gym. lead the way. the lights in all the stairs do not all work. i can handle it. next

novel 88 - 15. the old army game

by nick nelson

part 15 of ?

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harriet was a polite and well-bred person, and was in the habit of striking up polite conversations with complete strangers, even somewhat shabby and scary ones. harriet worked as a maid in a barely respectable downtown hotel, working the 4 pm to midnight shift, and took the last cable car home to her furnished room on california street. one chilly night she was riding home and there was one other passenger on the car, a man in a heavy coat several sizes too large for him and with a broad brimmed hat pulled down over his face but not concealing his long pointed nose. he looks familiar, harriet thought, familiar like a cartoon character - a comic villain. a bit cool tonight, isn’t it? harriet addressed the man. the man did not reply, and harriet decided he was not the talkative type. she never persisted in conversations if the person she spoke to did not respond. walter zank was a polite and well-bred person, though not very talkative, and liked to ride the cable cars at night. he would have liked to ride the cable cars all night long but they stopped at 2 a m and did not resume again until 6 a m. walter liked the long chilly foggy nights because they allowed him to dress as he liked best - in heavy coats several sizes too large for him and broad brimmed hats that he could pull down over his face, hiding the face except for his long pointed nose. although he never spoke to other passengers, even when they spoke to him, he took a keen interest in their mysterious existences and often reflected on them when he went back to his furnished room on o’farrell street. \ he recorded his reflections in school notebooks he purchased at walgreens. he did not keep the notebooks. when he had filled four of then,, he put them in an envelope and mailed them to the library of congress, with the return address of the doggie diner on geary boulevard and arguelo boulevard. he had learned in junior high school in davemport iowa that the library of congress kept a copy of every book ever written in the history of the world. he reflected on the middle aged woman who had observed that it was a chilly night. she did not invite much reflection but walter decided to give it the old college try, and play the old army game. now you see it, now you don’t. next

novel 88 - 14. belligerence

by nick nelson

part 14 of ?

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adam was walking down the road when suddenly he met eve. what are you doing here? he asked her belligerently. i could ask you the same thing, she replied saucily. you are going in the wrong direction, he continued, studiously ignoring her tone. there is nothing behind me, that is why i am proceeding north, as you see. i will be the judge of that, eve answered in a more measured tone of voice. perhaps there are things i will see that you did not, or that i can make use of that you could not. suit yourself. step aside then, and let me pass. the road is wide as well as long, will it wear you out to walk around me? eve laughed. you always have to argue, do you not? goodbye. and adam stepped around eve, and continued heading north, toward the ice and wind and snow. women! adam thought. they always have to make a big deal out of everything and take everything personally. of course, he added on sober reflection, eve is the only woman i have ever known, so perhaps i should not be too hasty in my generalizations. perhaps i will find a very different woman in the wind and ice and snow. if i do, i wonder what i should call —— just then a blast of frigid air almost knocked him off his feet… next

novel 88 - 13. outside

by nick nelson

part 13 of ?

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every time margaret brindage looked out her window, she saw something new and horrifying, so she turned on her television set for reassurance, because on the television nothing ever changed. how different it had been when she was a child, when life was boring and one did the same things every day, and the television - and the movies - provided excitement and respite from the boredom. right now, below her window, a motley group of indescribable people were chanting - death to……! margaret could not make out the name of the person … or group … or oountry… or whatever… that the motley group of indescribable people were assigning death to. she debated opening the window so that she could better understand the shouting. but the shouters might see the open window and decide to throw things through it. she had seen a report of something of the sort when she still had a laptop computer that streamed the news from all over the world 24 hours a day. now her only link to the world was a television set with a single channel - the nostalgia channel. on which she was allowed six hours of programming a day - down from eight hours just a few weeks ago, she was tempted to turn the set on now and use an hour or so of precious programming, and drown out, to some extent, the crowd’s chanting. but she tried to force herself to wait until her meal delivery time, so that she could watch a show and eat her daily rations at the same time, which she had always enjoyed doing. and if she were really strong willed, she would wait until 1700 hours, when her favorite show - the seventh queen - was on. just the there was a light tapping on her door. oh no, margaret thought in a panic, it is day six! how had she forgotten! as if in response to her agitation, the shouting outside grew louder, and she could make out the words… death to………….. !!! next

novel 88 - 12. a time of upheaval

by nick nelson

part 12 of ?

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pope innocent xx, fomerly the stable boy gustav, had not always been pope innocent xx, and he had not always been the stable boy gustav. it was a time of upheaval, when no one knew who anybody else was, or what anybody else was, or who they were themselves, or what they were themselves. pope innocent xx/gustav had been born in a little shack beside a nameless river in the remote province of b———. he was given the name “little red” and the number 8954-30-732 by the county supervisor who found him floating in a cardboard egg carton by the water’s edge. society at that time was being transformed by two new inventions - the bicycle and the rocket ship. clyde murdock, at that time the administrator of the province of b————, was a proponent of the bicycle. with hundreds of other waifs who had been rescued from the swamp and the waters edge, 8954-30-732 aka little red was trained in bicycle warfare. in the climactic battle of p—————, clyde murdock’s bicycle army faced off against lucius xxiii’s and professor wilson’s rocket ships. clyde himself and little red were the only survivors of the bicycle army. after a desperate flight through the great swamp, they came to a river and built themselves a raft. behind them they could see the flickering flames of the celebration of lucius xxiii’s victorious army. as they strung the reeds together to make the raft, clyde resolved to design a new weapon and fight another day. little red resolved to get away from clyde and never set foot on a battlefield again. suddenly they saw a light on the other side of the river. next

novel 88 - 11. beyond the mountains

by nick nelson

part 11 of ?

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i am sorry, professor. but after this month’s payroll is delivered, i am going to have to leave you. really? i am sorry to hear that, mike. what is the reason for this sudden - i assume it is sudden - decision? i have met a wonderful girl named sally jane and we are going to start a new life together and raise a family and she does not approve of my having such a dangerous occupation as escorting payrolls across deserts and mountains. well, i am sorry to lose you, mike, but i wish you well in your new life, and thank you for all your past services. was there anything else you wished to communicate to me? no, that is all the information i have for you today. then i wish you a pleasant rest of your day. mike left, and the professor returned to his thoughts. professor isaac newton was a mad scientist of the old school, and conducted his experiments on time and space in a secluded laboratory deep in the mountains. respectable scientists of the establishment derided him a a quack, but he felt he was on the verge of a momentous breakthrough, and the decision of his assistant, mike tenth street, a semi-reformed desperado of the old school, did not trouble him greatly, as he was confident he would always muddle through. because of the professor’s craving for secrecy, and the remoteness of his workspace, his underlings had to be paid, not in the digital currency of the new modern world, but in gold and other old fashioned valuables. that is where mike had come in. but now mike was leaving. he might not have to be replaced, if the new time and space machine could be revealed to the world, before the next payday. time and space would tell. next

novel 88 - 10. a good plan

by nick nelson

part 10 of ?

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davy crockett lost his license as a trained deadly assassin. panhandling was beneath him, so he decided to rob the payroll of the new time and space center in the mongolian desert where professor isaac newton was building a new model time machine. but first he needed to get a good crew together. but before that he needed a drink. alcohol had been banned for years except for party members, of which davy, as a certified assassin, had been one, although he had never taken any part in party affairs pr politics. in the first shock of losing his license, not being to get a drink was not something he immediately thought about. now it was. who could he turn to? he decided to look up his old friend alexander the man. even if alexander did not want to join his crew, maybe he could find him a drink. he took his phone out of his pocket to look up alexander and give him a call. what was his shock when he found that his whole contact list had been wiped out! of course - what had he expected when he was expelled from the party? should he keep the phone? he decided he might as well, even though the phone was a way of being kept track of by the system. after al, who knew how many things there were in his brain and body that enabled the system to know his every move and thought? but he could not give up. he decided to go for a walk to clear his head. the streets were deserted. what else would they be? eventually a patrol car would come buy and ask him where he was going. he would say, i don’t know, where should i be going? the officers in the patrol car would tell him to get in. they would drive him to a shelter. he would hook up with some guys in the shelter. they would form a crew - a good crew. they would make a plan. “make a good plan, and stick to it.” the whole cycle would start over again. what else could he do? next

novel 88 - 9. half a glass

by nick nelson

part 9 of ?

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carl wilson came home one night and was not greatly surprised to find that his wife had left him, as he had been expecting it for some time. he decided that a modest celebration was in order. carl believed in moderation in all things - something the departed joseohine had always professed to hold against him - so he poured himself half a glass of wine. when he finished the glass of wine, he wondered if he should have a second, but decided against it. instead, he decided to male a list of all the things he could do, or become, now that the weight of josephine had been lifted from him. he put the bottle of wine away , settled into his favorite chair - that he had always hated to see joseohine sitting in - and took out his phone. he began his list. what memories they brought back! astronaut best selling novelist cartoonist defensive back for the cleveland browns (his favorite team) elephant trainer financier pro golfer hollywood - the phone rang. he checked the number and name - courtney davis. josephine’s sister, whom he, carl, had hardly ever spoken to in his life. what did she want? this could not be good. hello? courtney? hello carl, how are you? i am doing very well, courtney. how about yourself? rain started beating against the apartment window. i was trying to reach jpsephine but kept getting her message. is she all right? uh - so far as i know, as far as you know? she is not here any more. pause carl added, she is gone - she was gone when i got home and took everything she owned. oh. i thought that might be what happened. she did not leave any new address or phone number? no. huh. you didn’t murder her, did you? no, i never got around to it. i had some good news for her. if you hear from her, you can give it to her. if you hear from her, will you tell her i have some good news for her? sure, why not? take care of yourself, carl. you too. have a nice rest of your evening. next

novel 88 - 8. diplomacy

by nick nelson

part 8 of ?

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the two policepersons ignored the neanderthal and the troglodyte-3 and confronted alberto. are you alberto xxv, emperor of greater portugal? the heavier of the two demanded. on my good days, albertp replied. what is this all about? you are a subject of interest to the department of confluence and your information is needed. needed for what? are you serious? i warn you again, do not trifle with us. i invoke my diplomatic status as emperor of greater portugal. i decline to waive my status as such, and if you wish to detain me you will need authorization from the department of imperial oversight and coordination. the two policepersons conferred in low voices. the heavier one seemed mildly annoyed , his slender companion bored. they briefly consulted their phones. very well, said the heavy one. expect to hear from us again. for the record, i am mr outsource, and my partner here is mr downsize, they left. when the door had closed behind them, the neanderthal and the troglodyte-3 laughed. what nonsense! the troglofyte-3 exclaimed. how happy it is, not to be human! the neanderthal nodded in agreement. you get used to it, alberto shrugged, now, where were we? you were going to buy me a coffee and donut. coffee and donut? the marriage lottery. oh right, the marriage lottery. what are you guys’ names, by the way? i am nick, said the neanderthal. and i am tony, said the troglodyte-e. nick and tony, got it. next

novel 88 - 7. a cup of coffee

by nick nelson

part 7 of ?

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alberto was casually scanning the personal ads in his local weekly newsfeed when a curious one caught his eye. men! - marriage lottery , it read. enter to win a wife - only one dollar! there was a link, presumably to this lottery, but no other contact information. alberto was seated in a coffee shop around the corner from the welfare office. the coffee shop was small, with only five tables and a counter where a troglodyte-3 dispensed the coffee . a few small pastries were also for sale. there was one other patron in the coffee shop, a neanderthal seated two tables away from alberto. my friend, alberto addressed the neanderthal, how would you like to earn a free cup of coffee? i would like it very much, i have been sitting here all day waiting for someone to offer me one. do you have a phone? of course i have a phone. a free one, provided by the department? what else would i have? very well, go into today’s personal ads in the city gazette and find the one for men! - marriage lottery, and click on the link it shows. why do you not do it yourself? i am a billionaire in disguise - and i do not want the u b tracking my every curious impulse. you are only a neanderthal, and neither the u b nor anything or anybody else cares what you think or do. i would not be so sure of that - or that that they are not tracking your every impulse, curious or not. in any event, it is not a very nice thing to say, that nobody cares what i think or do. do you want the cup of coffee or not? buy me a chocolate cupcake too. deal! now, just go in to the city gazette page and bring up the personal ads. i want my coffee and donut first. why, don’t you trust me? i know what you humans are like. i have been down this road before. the troglodyte-3 behind the counter had been following the conversaton between alberto and the neanderthal with rapt interest, and at a nod from alberto asked the neanderthal, how would you like your coffee? at that moment, the door of the coffee shop opened and a gust of rain blew in, followed by two members of the security police, in their trademark gray trench coats and dark brown fedoras. next

novel 88 - 6. suggestions 11 - 14

by nick nelson

part 6 of ?

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dear joe, how are you coming along? i hope the suggestions i sent you before were helpful. here are four more. 11. robin hood was sleeping under a tree in sherwood forest when he was suddenly shaken awake by rough but familiar hands. friar tuck and little john were standing over him. they had their mules with them, and the mules were loaded down but good. what are you hombres up to? robin asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes. we are on our way to the holy land to join good king richard, friar tuck replied. care to come along? __________________ 12. nestor had just moved into the old house when he heard a knock on the front door. who can that be? he wondered. can it be neighbors? he did not think neighbors still existed, except in golden age movies and syndicated tv shows. __________________ 13. alberto was casually scanning the personal ads in his local weekly newspaper when a curious one caught his eye. men! - marriage lottery , it read. enter to win a wife - only one dollar! __________________ 14.. a —s — k — a, the chief read off the initials. what do you think they mean? he asked corrigan. i don’t know, but i can guess, corrigan replied. let’s hear it. against - serial - killer - assassins aren’t serial killers assassins by definition? what does that mean? against the assassins of serial killers. oh. so it has come to this, has it? the chief shook his gray head. __________________ hope these help. sincerely, sebastian dream next