Terror on Wall Street, a Financial Metafiction Novel (8 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

GETTING TO KNOW YOU

Ike looked out the window at the plumes of smoke on both sides of the interstate.  It had been over an hour and they had not said a word to each other, so he tried to stir up some kind of conversation.

     “Where are we now, Snookie?”

     “According to this map, we’re just south of Cleveland and north of Akron, my home town.”

     “I didn’t know you were from Ohio.”

     “Yeah.”

     “What was it like, growing up in Akron?”

     “What do you mean?”

     “I mean, did you live there up until you went to school?”

     “Yeah, I did my undergrad at UChicago, too.”

     “What did you major in?”

     “Mathematics.”

     “So Akron, then Chicago?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Tell me about your life and your boyfriends.”

     “Didn’t really have any.  I went to a specialized school.”

     “For gifted kids, I bet.”

     “Something like that.”

     “What do you like to do?”

     “Do?”

     “Yeah, do you have any hobbies?”

     “Why do you want to know so much?”

     “Just interested, is all.  Don’t you want to know my hobbies?”

     “Not really.”

     Ike suddenly felt awkward and strange.

    
Six hours or more to go and nothing to talk about.

     “Tell me about yours.”

     “My what?”

     “Hobbies.”

     “I like to read.”

    
That’s a good start – literature.

    
“Great!  Do you like the classics?  I like Dickens and Steinbeck.”

     “I didn’t really do well in English.  I’m more of a non-fiction reader.”

     “Like what?  Politics?”

     “Mostly economics.  I pretty much remember everything I read.”

     “I noticed.  Do you like any games?”

     “I can play cards.”

     “Really?  What kinds of card games do you like to play?”

     “Anything, really.  I can remember all the cards.”

     “What do you mean,
all the cards
?”

     “I just remember which cards are played.”

     “Remind me to take you to the blackjack table sometime.”  Ike smiled, but Snookie showed no reaction to his humor.

    
Okay.

    
“I’m pretty good at chess, too.”

     “Oh, you like to play chess?”

     “Not really.  I’m just good at it.  I read a couple of books on master chess moves and pretty much know all of them.”

     “What about movies?  Do you like movies?”

     “They’re okay, I guess.  But they give me bad dreams, sometimes.”

     “Why?”

     “I don’t like the scary parts.  They play back over and over in my mind.”

    
I guess I won’t ask her out to a film.

    
“Maybe, when this is all over, we can get together and go out sometime.”

     “For what?”

     “For a nice dinner, maybe.”

     “I don’t get very hungry at night.  Mostly at lunchtime.”

     “Then, maybe for a nice lunch.”

     Ike smiled warmly, but got no reaction from Snookie.

Ha

CHAPTER TWENTY

GREED

Harry stood in front of the class with two attractive women on each side of him – his wife Jennifer, and June Lockheed, the registered investment advisor.

     “As promised, today I would like to present to you two experts.  The first is my wife, Jennifer Mason, an economist who has published articles on complexity economics.  The second, June Lockheed, is a registered investment advisor.  Jennifer, you have the floor.”

     Harry and June sat down and Jennifer took center stage.

     “Does anyone know the concept of complexity theory as it applies to economics?”

     Snookie raised her hand.  “Yes, young lady?”

     “Complexity theory is sometimes called complexity systems theory.  It’s the concept that certain systems have many different components that interact with each other in different ways.”

     “Very good.  Can anyone think of what the implication may be with economic systems such as the stock market?”

     “Well, for one thing, there’s the human factor, which we can’t overlook.”

     “Very good, Mister …?”

     Harry interjected, “Mr. Pendleton is an expert on neuroeconomics.”

     “Good, Mr. Pendleton.  That’s one element, but the point is that economic systems can’t be looked at in a vacuum.  There are too many factors that make them a complex system.  For example, how does greed come into play?”

     “We know we’re in another stock market bubble and another housing bubble, but the large institutions continue to trade in derivatives to make money for money’s sake,” said Ike.

     “That’s correct, Mr. Pendleton; and it's one of the reasons why the market must be considered a complex system.  Because our economy is also a complex system, we have to look at the gross national value of derivatives that are the mainstay of the “too big fail” banks’ investment portfolios.  That gross amount is over 800 trillion dollars, which is more than ten times the worldwide gross domestic product.  Because you can’t look at the market on a linear scale, you have to assume risks on a non-linear or exponential basis.  Therefore, a failure of the large banks would take the entire world economy down with them.”

     “But isn’t it normal for banks to look for alternate ways to make money, since the Fed is keeping interest rates so low?”

     “Yes, but the problem is that the banks are too big.  One of them goes down and the rest follow like dominoes, crippling the entire monetary system.  These banks got as big as they are by acquisitions and mergers.  We don’t need them to be so big.  In fact, it is detrimental to our economy.”

     “So the solution is to break up the big banks?”

     “As I said, we don’t need them.  Smaller banks can always syndicate together for large financings, and if one or a few of them fail, it won’t destroy the whole system.  Breaking them up is one solution, but also a political conundrum.  The financial elite already has the politicians in their pockets as a result of their lobbying.”

     “I call it legalized bribery,” said Harry.

     “I think you’re not going to see a breakup anytime soon unless, of course, there is an entire systemic failure - and by then it will be too late.”

     “What will happen then?” asked Larry.

     “Something else will replace the dollar as the world’s reserve currency.”

     “Like what?  Gold?” asked Bob.

     “Gold, maybe.  It’s been referred to by some financial experts as the only real money in the world.  And when you see central banks like China and Russia stockpiling it, you can bet that they are hedging for this possibility.”

     “What else - besides gold, I mean?” asked Carlos.

     “The IMF can issue its own fiat currency, SDRs, which have been used already to bail out economic crises in Iceland, Greece and Cyprus.”

     “So you’re saying it will all come to a crashing halt?”

     “If it does, it will reset and a new system with new rules will take its place.”

     “Thank you, Jennifer.  That is an example of greed on the largest scale possible.  The subject of greed is also a good introduction for our next guest, June Lockheed, a registered investment advisor who is here to share with us some of the practical aspects of what we’ve been studying here in class.  June?”

     June stood up to address the class.

     “Thank you, professor.  As an RIA, I’ve come to know greed on a very intimate level.  Most of the clients who come to me have already been raped and pillaged, financially speaking, by their brokers.  Brokers are, essentially, salesmen.  And just like the used car salesman down the block, they don’t care what kind of car you get so long as you buy it and they earn a commission.”

     “But aren’t they required to pass an examination?”

     “Yes, but we’re talking about a simple examination that basically consists of what they can and cannot say when talking to a client.  There are no educational requirements, and most brokers are no more an expert on investments than your local hairdresser.”

     Murmurs of laughter swept the gallery, and June continued with her story of Tex, the cowboy, and the way he branded his broker to get even.

     “So brokers have no fiduciary duties to the client at all?”

     “None.  Their job is simply to get control of the client’s money without breaking the law, if at all possible.”

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY

As Ike and Snookie approached Toledo, traffic on the Ohio Turnpike came to a complete stop.  They could see columns of smoke emanating from the glass city.

     “What’s going on out there?”

     “More of the same, probably.  See if you can get something on the radio.”

     Snookie adjusted the radio tuner, which crackled through one static-filled output after another until, finally, some they got some news.

     “
The National Guard has mobilized in response to violence on the streets of Toledo.  Incidents of looting have created safety hazards for firefighters as they attempt to quell blazes in city buildings.  And scores of fire brigades have been called to battle fires at the BP Refinery.”

    
“Strange that they would be burning a refinery during a gas shortage crisis.”

     “They don’t understand how the huge oil companies could have a gas shortage.”

     “No lines of credit, no money transfers, no cash.  Everything comes to a stop.  Ike, there’s something I’ve been wondering about.”

     “What is it?”

     “Why are you studying animals as part of a thesis in economics?”

     “It’s all part of neuroeconomics.  I study how the brain works with regard to making decisions and taking risks.  Humans are animals, too.  I use animals in my behavior experiments because the experiments can be more controlled and the assumptions of the economic model can be tested better.”

     Ike smiled.  Snookie looked at him, trying to process what he was saying.

     “Plus, they’re cute, don’t you think?”

     “Cute?”

     “Yeah: fuzzy, furry little bunnies and monkeys.  Cute, you know?”

     “Yeah, I guess.”

     “You have to be the first girl I’ve ever met who doesn’t go ape over animals.  Get it, ape?”

     Ike flashed a goofy smile.

     “No.”

     “Okay; well, forget it.”

***

Carlos felt the airplane turning.  He pushed the intercom button for the pilot.

     “Hank, what’s happening?”

     “We’re being re-routed to Dulles.  Ronald Reagan Airport’s been closed.”

     Carlos sighed.  Harry smiled and tried to make small talk.

     “Well, Mr. Rodriguez, what are your plans after you finish our presentation?”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Will you go to Mexico before they impose travel restrictions?”

     “Travel restrictions?”

     “Yes.  I assume they will be suspending or revoking passports, at least temporarily.  You may not be able to connect with your father if you stay here.”

     “Will they really do that?”

     “At first, it will be international travel.  Then they may impose checkpoints at the state level.”

     “Unbelievable.”

     “All bets are off when the elite think they’re losing control over the people.”

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

THE ABSENT MINDED PROFESSOR

Dr. Reynolds' office was not far from campus.  He had been Harry’s doctor since Harry had immigrated from the UK.  He had been balding since his 40s, which he claimed was a sign of virility – a proven medical fact.  Reynolds was just a few pounds over what should have been his ideal weight, and was a workaholic, just like Harry, who was about 20 minutes late for his Wednesday appointment.

     “So, Brian, what’s the prognosis?  Am I going to live?”

     Instead of laughing, Reynolds looked serious, like a judge about to announce a death sentence. 

     “We’ve got the results back on your blood tests and CT scan – all normal.”

     “I told you I didn’t need those tests.”

     “Well, I gave them to you because of your performance on the memory tests – as a rule-out measure.”

     “To rule out what?”

     Dr. Reynolds leaned forward, took off his glasses, and looked into Harry’s eyes.

     “Harry, I think you’ve got the early stages of Alzheimer disease.”

     Harry’s mouth dropped open. 
Alzheimer’s?

     “But, Brian, I’m not that old.”

     “Alzheimer’s hits people in their 60s, Harry.  And, in some rare cases, they even get it much younger.”

     “Jennifer says I’ve been working too hard lately on this government project.  It’s been putting a strain on me.  She said to ask you for something to take the edge off.”

     “Harry, your blood pressure is normal.  You don’t seem to be reacting to any unusual stressors.  I’d like you to see a specialist.  There’s a new medication going through trials now.  If we can get you on the program, it could help you.”

     Doctor Reynolds held out the referral slip.  Harry took it, looked at it, and hung his head down.

     “Well, Brian, if you think I should…”

     “Harry, I know this is difficult.  It’s hard for anyone, but for a man with a mind like yours, it has to be the worst news.  I’m sorry.”

     Harry forced a smile.  “Thank you, Brian.”

***

Harry, faced with the impossible job of breaking the news to Jennifer, didn’t know how to spin it, so he just told it to her like Dr. Reynolds had told it to him.

“Jennifer, I think Brian’s wrong.  I don’t think I have Alzheimer’s, but I
have
been slipping up lately in class, you know – forgetting my place in the lectures.”

     “Maybe you should put an outline of your lectures on index cards.  That way, you can refer to them just to keep organized.”

     Harry made a face.  “I’ve never had to make an outline in my life.”

     “Things change, dear.  I just think it’s a good idea.  Just in case, you know?”

     Harry spent the evening making out 4x6 index cards for his lecture for the following day. 

     “How’s it going, dear?”

     “It’s terrible, Jennifer.  This makes me feel so useless and so old.”

     “You’re neither useless nor old.  Everyone has to organize an outline for public speaking.  I always have.”

     “Well, I never have.”