I find myself driving down a familiar road in a car that I have no idea where I got it and I have no idea why I’m driving down the road.
I may be insane. I do have a printed list of things that I’m to do, but no idea why I’m to do the things. Oh yeah, at the top of the list is a name, Jason Gran. I’m Jason Gran, it’s one of the very few things that I’m sure of.
The road that I’m driving along is one that I have driven along dozens of times before, but not recently. The only thing that I can think of to do is to follow the items on my list.
I get to the little town where I graduated from high school. I see that a few things have changed, but there are quite a few old familiar things, as well.
The first item on my list is the name of a stock brokerage firm. The firm is new since I left home, but the office is on the road. I park my car in the parking lot and walk into the stock broker’s office. I have to tell the lady at the front desk, “I’m Jason Gran, G.r.a.n. I think that I have an account here.”
The lady looks at me with maybe the reaction, ‘Another whacko.’ She does check. She then gives me a big, fake, customer smile. “Yes, Mr. Gran, you do have an account here. Let me have you talk with Robert Smith, the manager.”
A lady appears; Robert Smith’s Secretary. She leads me to Robert Smith’s door, knocks and then ushers me in, to a spoken, “Come in.”
Robert Smith gets up and shakes my hand, then says, “Sit down, Mr. Gran.”
I sit in a chair, in front of Robert Smith’s desk.
Mr. Smith smiles and says, “Mr. Gran, you have a rather substantial account here. You own some stocks, mostly preferred stocks. and some cash. Ah, there is no record as to where the stocks and cash came from.”
“Yes, I deal with some unusual people and situations.”
“You do realize that the stocks and money will have to be reported to the IRS.”
“Of course. I don’t deal with criminals, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“You apparently lived here before. A couple of my people recognized your name.”
“I graduated from high school here and then went off to college and then to a career elsewhere.”
“You apparently were quite successful.”
“I had some wins and some losses, but more wins than losses, I do need to do some business here and I need a checking account to do that.”
“We can set you up a checking account here, but it will take maybe a week before the physical checks arrive. I can link you up with the nearby local bank branch and they can get you checks right now.”
“Checks right now, that would be good.”
Mr. Smith types in some information, into his desk computer and then motions me around. He gives me a listing of my account. The total value of my account is more than two million dollars. He also links me up with a local bank branch.
I enter my user name and password. I then transfer a thousand dollars to my new bank account. I then log out and tell Mr. Smith, “Thank you. I have some things to do, to get set up here. I’ll be back in touch.”
I wrap up with Mr. Smith.
I go out, get in the car and drive downtown. I spot the bank and drive into the parking lot. I walk into the bank and manage to get a bank book and a book of no-name checks.
The bank was the next item on my list.
I then walk to a real estate office. I find that the house that I grew up in is now tax paid and the deed is in my name. The house is currently vacant. I do have to sign some paperwork. I also have to arrange for water and electricity to be turned on.
I get some keys, for the property.
The real estate office was the next item on my list.
I then stop at a little restaurant and get a hamburger plate, as I find myself hungry. I find out that there are now two big software firms, with offices in town. One of the software firms is on my list.
I then drive to the software firm on my list, and I get interviewed, for a computer programmer job. I have answers to the questions and I walk through three interviews in good form. I get a job offer, which I accept.
By now, it’s close to quitting time.
I drive down to a street in the South part of town. I ask a few idlers for, ‘Construction José.’ I get directed to a house. As I get to the house a young kid pulls up in a battered old truck. I tell the kid “I’m looking for, ‘Construction José.’”
The kid laughs, “That’s actually my old man, but I’m also called, ‘Construction José.’”
I tell the kid, “I own a house, up on North Hill Street. They tell me that the house and yard are in rough shape.”
The kid tells me, “Yeah, there’s a house in the middle of a weed farm, up on North Hill Street. I know where it is, but I have no idea what sort of shape the house is in. I got a crew, working on another house, right now. You got cash I can get you an estimate, what’s needed for the house on North Hill Street.”
“I got cash, a bank account.”
“I can get you an estimate, gonna cost you twenty-five bucks and you gotta drive the estimator up to the place.”
“Can do, when.”
The kid calls out, “Juanita.”
A young woman comes out of the house and eyes me suspiciously.
The kid tells her, “Juanita, there’s a house in the middle of a weed farm, up on North Hill Street. The man needs you to do an estimate to put the house into livable shape, twenty-five dollars.”
“You pick me up here eight, tomorrow morning, no funny business. I do an estimate, you pay me twenty-five dollars and drop me back here.”
I say, “Eight AM it is, twenty-five dollars it is.”
Juanita turns and walks back toward the house.
I tell the kid, “Juanita didn’t call me gabacho. Think it yes, call it no.”
The kid laughs and says, “Yah, Juanita got an attitude. Ah, my work crew maybe have a problem with La Migra, the immigration people.”
“Your crew fixes my place up right, maybe I need more fix up, later on. La Migra doesn’t do fix-up. By the way, I’m Jason Gran. I’ll be at the Highway Inn tonight.”
