Date: Wed, 21 Feb 2007 03:04:27 -0800 From: fritz@nehalemtel.net Subject: I Love Corey, Chapter Ninety-two Welcome back to another of these boring and useless disclaimers. Why are they useless? You've got to be kidding me. You surely don't believe that anyone takes them seriously and obeys me when I tell them they shouldn't be reading this do you? If you believe that people leave when I tell them they should, boy have I got some good deals for you. I just happen to have a few bridges for sale, along with some oceanfront property in both Colorado and Arizona. Contact me for further details and I'm sure we can work something out. Moving on, you young people are going to have to stop lurking around sites like this. Think of all the corruption you are absorbing by reading this and similar stories. I cannot save you from such an evil thing unless you listen and leave. The same holds true for those who become upset by stories which contain gay sex scenes. Once again I am at a loss on how to protect you if you willfully ignore my warnings that this story sometimes contains such descriptions. You must leave or suffer the consequences. I can only add, happy suffering. For those who have the misfortune to live under the rule of tyrannical bigots who have declared stories like this one off limits, you stay at your own risk. While I sympathize with your plight, I have no suggestions except be very careful when reading this story and try not to get caught. I refuse to testify that I went out and captured you, held a gun to your head, and forced you to read this story. We now come to the part concerning just how gullible you are. If you believe that this story is based on real people and actual events, then you are extremely gullible because nothing could be further from the truth. In truth, it is just the musings of a muddled mind. I realize that the story isn't much, but please respect my rights as an author and grant me the usual courtesies, such as crediting me for any quotes from it and sharing any financial remuneration from any commercial use of it. Don is very helpful, both to me and to you for making this story much easier to read. We both owe him our thanks. Once again you are invited to offer criticisms, comments, suggestions, or ask questions. Just send them to "fritz@nehalemtel.net" and include "I Love Corey" in the subject of your email. I manage to answer most of them, but sometimes it takes a while. In the meantime I hope you enjoy the following chapter. Fritz *********************************************************** I Love Corey, Chapter Ninety-two Now that I had decided to try to pry a little more information out of David, I wasn't sure how to begin. He still looked upset from his nightmare even after drinking his cup of coco, which told me that he had been badly frightened by it. "Do you want to talk about it?" I started. "Sometimes talking about something makes it easier." He shook his head. "Why not?" I asked. There was a pause which seemed to go on forever, but was only a minute or so. "I can't," he finally whimpered. "Why not David? You know I won't hurt you, so why can't you talk about it?" "I just can't." "Look David, I'd like to help you, but I can't if you won't let me. If you don't tell me what the problem is, there isn't anything I can do. Surely you understand that?" Since I'd started questioning him, he had never looked up. Now he was starting to look like a trapped animal with his eyes darting all over as if looking to escape, and I wondered if I'd made a mistake in trying to question him when he was still upset, but it had seemed like a good idea because he was scared and needed to get it off his chest. "I'm scared," he said as if to prove my point even though I hadn't mentioned it. I slid my chair a little closer and put my arm across his shoulders. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Look at Kevin or Kristin. They aren't afraid of me. Look at JJ or LT. Neither are they. In fact no one is afraid of me. Not Mark or Kyle, or the neighbor kids who drop over, or Vern's boys. You don't have to be afraid of me because I don't hurt people. I know you haven't known me very long, but just think of the way everyone acts around me. Do they act like they're afraid of me?" I asked. All I got was another shake of his head. "Well if you don't think they fear me, why should you be afraid of me?" Again no real answer; instead he just shrugged his shoulders. Since no information was coming out of him, all I could do was sit there with my arm across his shoulders and wonder what it was he was afraid of. He didn't appear to be afraid of me, but there was something that was stopping him from saying anything. Then it clicked. "David, are you afraid that someone else is going to hurt you if you tell?" I asked. David nodded his head and again started to cry. I couldn't hear it, but I could feel his shoulders start to shake and see a few tears start trickling down his cheeks. I was stuck on what to say next. How could I assure him he was safe without knowing who he was afraid of? It was one thing to think it was likely a family member, but I had no evidence of that, only a nagging suspicion based on the fact I still believed he had been truthful when he told me his name. If he had been truthful, then that might explain why his name wasn't in any states system where Judy could have found it. If he was a runaway or kidnap victim, then his name should have popped up when she ran it. "Is it someone in your family you're afraid of?" I asked. The crying worsened quickly, which led me to believe I was right. "Why are you afraid?" I asked. "You're safe now and Judy will help find you a good home. She's worked at Children's Services for a long time and knows how to help and protect kids." "Because he'll kill me. He said he would," David sobbed. "Just like he killed Mom and my brother. I don't wanna die." No matter how I tried, that was all I got. After a while I decided there was no use in continuing and that he would be better off sleeping. For that matter, I was still tired and needed more sleep. When I led David back to the bedroom he didn't want to sleep next to Kevin, but instead wanted to be next to me. Dog was willing to sleep beside Kevin so we ended up at the foot of the bed with me spooned up against his back and Dog was in my usual place. Dog seemed happy, but I either needed a bigger bed or fewer kids in it. Surprisingly, David dropped off to sleep quite quickly, but I couldn't do the same. I kept wondering how I was going to get him to trust me enough to where he would tell me who he was afraid of. I also wondered why he had kept saying he wanted to die and then would say he didn't want to die. That seemed to be a contradiction, but after thinking on it for a while I came to the conclusion that he figured if he was dead his problems would be over even though he did not actually want to die. He was scared and afraid and anything which lessoned the fear looked good to him and if he were dead, he would no longer be afraid. After worrying about the whole situation for an hour or so I finally went to sleep. When I finally woke up I could hear action in the kitchen and for once the giggle boxes had allowed me to sleep. They were gone, along with Corey, so that left David and me. Even Dog had abandoned us, probably in favor of some bites of breakfast, which I could smell cooking. It smelled pretty good, like bacon and eggs good, and I was hungry. A quick dash to the bathroom and after hastily donning some clothes I went to check and see if there was any left for me. David never stirred. Well there wasn't any left for me, but Kath soon fixed me a plateful and I enjoyed it. I could see that she was no longer limping so I decided that she had gotten enough of her unpacking done to where she was no longer pushing herself so hard. Kyle stumbled out to catch the bus and I thought to myself that one of these days he was going to fall flat on his face while doing so. I had yet to see him awake enough on any morning to consider him much more than a zombie, and even Dale Wilson, the high school geography teacher for Kyle's first period class, said he wasn't sure how he managed to pass the course since he never acted awake enough to hear a word he said. Mrs. Schoenberg said he was better in English, during second period, but that he still lacked a lot of being alert. Yet somewhere during the day he would get himself going and even get most of his homework for those two classes done before school was out. When the rest of the boys were about done for the day and were having problems keeping their eyes open, Kyle was bright eyed and ready for more. He was a real night owl. David came wandering out and Kath fixed him some breakfast. While he was eating we picked up the rest of the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. It was time to get on with the rest of the day, but it was still too early to do most things. Russ wouldn't be in his office yet so there was no use in trying to call until later, and Uncle Matt was all charged up about checking out tractors, but if we did that we might not get Russ working on buying the property. Then I remembered the old marshmallows. Corey decided to go with me to buy groceries. The giggle boxes talked about going with us, but we managed to discourage them. I had visions of myself dashing all over the store trying to keep them out of trouble, all the while forgetting what I'd gone there for. There weren't many people in Downie's so it went well. In fact I don't think I'd ever managed to fill shopping baskets so quickly and yet get everything I needed. I still needed to make a trip to Costco and pick up those things which didn't spoil, but we got through with our shopping in just over an hour. Not only that, we even got to visit a little. It wasn't nearly as good a visit as we normally had each night when we went to bed, but it was at least a chance to talk. Since the giggle boxes had invaded the bed there had been no personal time for us, and I missed it. The worst part about it was that I wanted to hold and kiss him and that seemed like a very poor idea in the middle of a grocery store. While there were only a few others shopping, had I done what I wanted to do it would have set tongues wagging for miles. I did manage to put my arm across his shoulders and give him a quick squeeze when we were out of sight in one of the aisles, but that was it. By the time we got home it was late enough to call Russ. His office normally opened at nine and it was half past so he'd had time to get organized. While the rest of the boys whined and packed in groceries, I gave him a call. I wasn't prepared for him telling me to get my ass down there if I wanted to see him, but since Uncle Matt wasn't doing anything else I promised we'd be right down. The boys were still dragging their feet and taking much longer than necessary to unload the groceries, so we took Uncle Matt's car. Let them whine at Kath. After all, Danny and Andrea were part of it. Russ explained that he had an appointment for later in the morning, and that he was going to be tied up in court in the afternoon and for the next several days so that was the reason I needed to hurry down. Then we got down to business. To listen to Russ, it was simple. He said he'd take care of everything and that even with the way he would rip me off it would still cost less than going through a realtor. He was positively smirking at the thoughts of getting more of my money. I couldn't complain since so far everything he'd done had been reasonably priced and he'd saved me a bunch of money. He loved to play the part of a greedy lawyer, but his billings didn't reflect that. He told us that his secretary would handle most of it, and that it wouldn't take long provided the property was clear. The thing that took the longest was transferring some money into an account to pay for the property, but Uncle Matt used one of the office computers and between them they managed to transfer enough money to cover it. I was shocked to learn that Uncle Matt had that much cash floating around. While I could have bought the property, I would have had to either borrow or sell some stocks to cover it. I only had a hundred thousand or so I could grab that quickly. That got me to wondering how much Uncle Matt was actually worth, but since I didn't need to know I couldn't think of a reason to ask. We had just finished and were visiting when Russ's next appointment showed up, so we said our goodbyes and left. Things had gone so well that there wasn't anything I needed to do. I was looking forward to relaxing around the house and maybe getting a little more information out of David when Uncle Matt shot that idea down. He thought the boys would enjoy helping him look for tractors. I wasn't sure of that, but he was right. When he suggested it, they all dashed off to get their coats and get ready. Even Andrea seemed to like the idea. It didn't take me long to figure out what they really thought and that was they would get to eat lunch at a restaurant. I suppose the tip-off was hearing them talking about what sounded good for lunch. Kath wanted no part of the tractor shopping so Aunt Sandy decided to stay home with her. David didn't act very enthused, but he decided to go with us. So we loaded up in the Gator and Uncle Matt's car and took off to look at tractors. The debate over lunch continued as we drove to Redding. Some wanted pizza and some wanted hamburgers. The pizza won in my bunch, but I didn't know what those riding with Uncle Matt had decided. Besides, it was a little early for lunch, so we went to the tractor dealer first. It didn't take me long to figure out that my little Craftsman riding mower was not in the same class as the machines I was looking at. When I'd bought it, used, it had seemed plenty big to do the job and in all fairness it had. Yet when I compared it to what was available, there were some big differences. There were some big differences if you looked at tractors rather than riding mowers also and there were plenty of both to look at. Even so, these riding mowers looked better. They seemed constructed of better materials and looked better all around, but the lawn tractors were what caught my eye. Then Uncle Matt dragged me off to look at the ones he was interested in and wow, those were even more impressive. The more I looked, the more confused I got. About that time a salesman came over and started talking with us. Good heavens, what he was recommending was big and it was expensive. When I commented on how big it was, he laughed and said I ought to go look at farm tractors. These were the smaller ones and only went up to about forty or fifty horsepower and were designed to care for lawns and small jobs around a farm. The bigger ones had several hundred horsepower and were designed to plow up large fields and stuff like that. He kept asking Uncle Matt questions and telling him all the attachments he could use on any of the tractors he was showing us. Uncle Matt's eyes lit up when the salesman started talking about backhoes although I had no idea what he was talking about and what it would do. Then he showed us one and I realized I'd seen them before and just hadn't known what to call them. However, these were smaller than the ones I'd seen used on construction sites and highway repairs. Some of those were on tracks and could have probably scooped up the ones we were now looking at. About then David tugged my arm and told me Uncle Matt needed to look at bigger tractors because he needed more power to run a brush hog, whatever that was. The salesman said the one he was showing Uncle Matt would run a four foot brush hog, but David said that with as much mowing as would have to be done we needed a bigger one. The salesman then asked how many acres we would be dealing with, and when Uncle Matt told him he immediately moved on to some bigger tractors. I didn't think I could get one of them in the back of the pickup, so I wondered if we would need a trailer. Then he showed us a 3720 with a loader thingy on the front, which turned out to be called a front end loader, I suppose because it was on the front, and he said the backhoe would mount on the back, which again made sense except I found out that a backhoe was called a backhoe not for where it was mounted, but for the way it dug. With an optional mid PTO, which I found out stood for power take off, a lawn mower could be mounted in the middle under the tractor. He assured Uncle Matt that it was easy to take the backhoe off and put a brush mower on behind and said that this tractor would have no problems with a five foot brush mower. A tiller could also be mounted where the backhoe went. In fact, a whole bunch of other things could go there like a box scraper, although I wondered why anyone would scrape boxes with a tractor. By now I was totally lost, but David seemed to understand everything that was being said. He thought that the box scraper thing was necessary, and even seemed to know what it was. All I can say is that it was a good thing that someone understood because it was pretty clear neither Uncle Matt nor I did. There was one part I understood all too well, and that was the price, which was now well over forty grand. I was somewhat puzzled as to why we would need two mowers and some of the other things they were talking about, but David and the salesman both thought we did. I could at least understand the chipper, although I still wondered about scraping boxes. I knew what a plow was, but a disc, what did that do? I decided we needed to eat lunch and maybe I could find out from David what they had been talking about. The salesman gave us a bunch of brochures and we left and headed for the Olive Garden. The hamburgers had lost out to pizza, and Uncle Matt and I decided we wanted something else. After we had ordered I asked David why we would want to scrape boxes. At first he looked blank, and then he started to giggle. The more he tried to stop giggling, the worse it got. After a while he managed to calm down enough to sort through the brochures and find one and hand it to me. What do you know, it was also sometimes called a box blade and was used to repair driveways and things like that, or even to help level areas. It went on the back of the tractor and had a blade which scraped the ground or road. The box part came from it having a couple of pieces of metal, one on each side, which kept the dirt from spilling out each side. I was left wondering why people call things such weird names. Was it just so they could feel superior to those of us who didn't know what they were? On the plus side, that silly name had gotten David giggling and that was the first time I had ever seen him truly laugh. Without seeming to pry I managed to ask a few questions and he admitted to having been around a farm for a while. I gathered that he had never lived on one, but that he had grown up in a farming community and had friends who did live on them. He even explained what a disc was and how it worked. Uncle Matt was also pumping him for information although his questions were more directed at what David thought we needed for a tractor. David actually opened up and for the first time was talking freely, and while he didn't use the best grammar in the world, he clearly wasn't stupid. Then he accidentally let loose the fact he had been raised in Oklahoma, right on the Texas border. I don't think it meant much to Uncle Matt, but I filed that away for future questioning. While I didn't have a town yet, at least I had an area. Even if I didn't get any more information, that would narrow it down a lot for Judy and Children's Services. After lunch we went back to the dealer, only this time we looked at Kubota's. Once again the boys, along with Andrea, all had to sit on every piece of equipment in sight from the smallest riding mower to the biggest tractor. I could see we better not have more than one tractor around or the boys would be racing them. You could see that in their eyes and body language. They tended to like the bigger tractors, I suppose because they were used to my little riding mower and the big ones were more impressive. David stuck close to Uncle Matt and the two of them were talking with the salesman. This time there was no wasted time looking at tractors which were too small for what he needed because the salesman already knew how much property was involved. The salesman quickly narrowed it down to the GL series of tractors since Uncle Matt thought he needed a mid mount mower and the L series didn't offer a mid PTO. While Uncle Matt and David talked with the salesman, I wandered off and was looking at riding lawnmowers. They really looked nice when compared to my old Craftsman. Corey came over and joined me as I continued looking, and we talked about how much nicer it would be to have a bigger mower. My Craftsman was only a thirty-inch mower and the ones I was looking at were bigger, like 48 inches. Now that I had more ground to mow with the addition of the property Kath's house was on, maybe I needed a bigger mower. We got past the mowers and into the little tractors. Wow, they were neat and cute. The BX series was just the right size for my place. I recalled seeing some about the same size in the John Deere line, but I hadn't had time to really look at them. Another salesman showed up and started talking with Corey and me. I soon found out why those tractors looked so nice. After a little talking he said he could get me into just what I needed for only fifteen thousand dollars. That was a big change from my riding mower which had only sold for under a thousand dollars when new. Still, it was a lot cheaper than the size Uncle Matt was looking at. He was in the forty to fifty thousand dollar range depending on the attachments. I told him I'd think about it and he gave me his card and told me anytime I was ready to buy, come see him. The kids were all tired of looking and had wandered back to where Uncle Matt and David were. When Corey and I joined them, Uncle Matt was just finishing getting quotes from the salesman. When he was finished we got in our vehicles and headed home, well that is after a stop for milkshakes. I couldn't believe that the kids could be hungry after all the pizza they had scarfed down, but they had to have a few orders of fries to go with their shakes. By the time we were halfway home I was once again treated to the sound of gurgling straws trying to suck up the last drop of milkshakes. That seemed to go on and on, but eventually even the kids recognized they could get no more from the empty shake containers and gave up. Meeting an empty log truck reminded me that I hadn't called Phil Bledsoe to check on who owned the part of the road adjoining Ralph's property. I debated with myself about swinging past his office and talking with him, but decided that getting the now restless boys home was a better solution. I could call him as soon as I got home. As I pulled into the garage and shut the Gator off, the doors fairly exploded open with boys tumbling out and heading off to do something more interesting than look at tractors or ride in cars. I snickered to myself thinking that they were the ones who had wanted to go so they needed to blame themselves for their alleged boredom. They hadn't seemed bored when looking over all the tractors so I guess that change in opinion had come about when they ran out of French fries and shakes. I called Mr. Bledsoe's office, but his secretary told me he was on another line and she didn't know how long that call would last. I explained it wasn't important, but when he had a little time I would appreciate him returning my call. His secretary assured me that he would do so, so now it was time to talk with Uncle Matt and see what he thought of all the tractors he had been looking at. I probably shouldn't have been surprised, but the prices for the two tractors were quite close together by the time everything was figured in. Since there wasn't a clear-cut price winner, that meant Uncle Matt had to decide which he liked best. David stuck around and listened in on the conversation while the rest of the boys were outside playing basketball. The conversation on which tractor he liked best was going nowhere since he kept bringing up things he'd seen on other machines. The more we talked, the worse it got. We had looked at a bunch of different models and each had its good and bad points. The more we discussed it, the more confusing it got. We couldn't even use which dealer we liked best because the one dealer was handling both lines of equipment. I was thankful when Mr. Bledsoe called back because it interrupted a conversation which was going nowhere. After the usual preliminaries of saying hi and exchanged how we were, Mr. Bledsoe asked why I had called. "The reason I called was I wanted to know if your logging road, the Three Lakes mainline, was a county road up to the gate, or if you owned that part between the gate and the end of the paved street?" I asked. "I own it clear to the pavement Sam," he replied. "Why do you want to know?" "My uncle is thinking of buying a piece of property and it would be a lot closer to town, driving wise, if he put in a different access that came out on your road," I replied. "As it is, the road into the property is off the Clear Creek county road and takes about thirty minutes to get there. If he came off Three Lakes it would only take a few minutes." "If you don't mind my asking, which property is your uncle interested in?" Mr. Bledsoe asked. "It's the old Beeler homestead Phil." After I said that there was dead silence on the other end of the phone. I was beginning to think there was something wrong with the connection when I heard Mr. Bledsoe ask me a question. "Sam, would it be alright if I came over to your place and we talked about this a little?" "Sure Phil, you can stop over anytime." "I'm done for the day and if you don't mind I can be at your place in about fifteen minutes," he said. I again assured him that was fine and we said goodbye and hung up. I was very curious as to what was on his mind. A simple yes or no about using his road for access would have been a more normal reaction. We didn't have long to wait as Mr. Bledsoe was soon knocking at the door. After I'd introduced him to Uncle Matt, Phil got right to the point. It seemed that Mr. Bledsoe had been trying for years to get permission to put a road through the Beeler property since it would make access to some of his timber holdings much easier and cheaper. Ralph had always turned down any offers he had made, but now Mr. Bledsoe hoped that if Uncle Matt bought the property he could work out an agreement to put a logging road through part of it. We ended up driving to the property and Mr. Bledsoe showed us where he wanted to put his logging road. The road would be along a hillside that was hidden from where Uncle Matt wanted to build, and only went a short distance on the property, but it was about the only place a road could get access from this direction. While we were looking that part over, Mr. Bledsoe also mentioned that there was some nice merchantable timber on the property and he would be more than happy to pay top dollar for it should Uncle Matt decide to harvest it. Then Uncle Matt got down to business. He and Mr. Bledsoe soon agreed that Mr. Bledsoe could have an easement across the property for putting in the new access road. That also solved one other problem, that of finding a company to put in the road. Mr. Bledsoe had his own road building crews and could get one started on it as soon as the property deal went through and the weather cooperated. I could see things were moving pretty fast and I was going to have to decide if I wanted to build a new house or continue living in my old one. While the new access would remove one of my objections, I still wasn't convinced I wanted to build a new house and live that close to my relatives. Much as I loved them I worried that we might fight for some reason and then living close together would likely make it harder to patch things up. Then again, we had never fought before so perhaps I was worrying about things which would never happen. About then Mr. Bledsoe brought up the fact that he knew of a piece of property which adjoined the Beeler property and was for sale. He said we ought to make an offer for it because the only reasonable access to it was through the Beeler property and it would add another three hundred acres to the property and he was pretty sure we could buy it cheap. When I asked him what cheap was, he said probably around five thousand dollars an acre, maybe less. The owners had been trying to sell it for years, but without access had not been able to do so. When I said we were paying less per acre for the Beeler place, Mr. Bledsoe laughed and said that if we sold even part of the timber on the other piece of property we would get the land for nothing. In order to do any logging on it, a road would have to go across the upper end of the Beeler property, which I could see no problems with because it was far from where Uncle Matt was planning on building. We continued talking and I learned that Ralph and Mr. Bledsoe didn't get along. Mr. Bledsoe had made offers for the Beeler place which were higher than what Ralph was now willing to sell for. That seemed odd since I'd never heard much bad said about Mr. Bledsoe, but when he explained that Ralph had been working for him and suffered an injury and wasn't satisfied with how the insurance company had treated him, so he instead blamed it on Mr. Bledsoe. Even though Mr. Bledsoe had offered some extra money over what the insurance had covered, Ralph was unwilling to accept the money and had moved from the area, taking with him a grudge which had lasted for years. The last time Mr. Bledsoe had made an offer, Ralph had contacted an attorney who had sent a letter stating that should Bledsoe Timber ever contact his client again, they would file a harassment suit against it. That took place seven years ago and there had been no further contacts between Bledsoe Timber and Ralph. Sometimes it odd how things work out. Mr. Bledsoe told us that had we not agreed to the idea of allowing him an easement to place a logging road on the property he was going to offer to buy it at a profit to us. Then he would have made an offer on the piece of property he had told us about, but since we had been reasonable he said he felt he needed to treat us reasonably. The amount he mentioned would have been more than reasonable and would have meant we doubled our money, but this way we could do even better, although it would take longer. Mr. Bledsoe figured there was at least five million dollars worth the timber on the other piece of property and suggested we set up a long term sustained harvest program if we bought it. If we didn't wish to buy it, he would offer us a quarter of a million dollars for another easement to allow him access to it, but he told us we would be foolish not to buy the property if we could possibly afford it. After Mr. Bledsoe left, Uncle Matt and I headed home. As we were driving along a thought occurred to me and I brought it up. The thought was that Uncle Matt seemed to have a gift for finding investments which paid off. He thought for a while before answering. "Well, I don't know that it's a gift. I do spend time analyzing things, and I try not to let emotions enter into it, but mostly it's been a matter of being at the right place at the right time and having a little money to invest. I made some money and then when you received your first insurance settlement, there was money to work with. A lot of people have ideas and see opportunities, but they lack the funds to take advantage of them. Then some people are unwilling to take a chance and they pass up opportunities." He paused before continuing. "A lot of people think that people who make money are crooked, or have luck, but mostly it's about learning to recognize when something will work and the time's right for it. That normally just takes some hard work. You need to be able to put emotion aside and understand what the market will respond to, and I don't mean the stock market although that works the same way. Some of the software companies I've invested your and my money in had ideas that looked like people might want. I've turned down a bunch of ideas I didn't think would work, but have been successful. I've picked a few losers also. Probably the biggest thing is that I don't take on anything I can't understand." "What do you mean can't understand?" I asked. "Before I invest in anything I have to understand what it is the product will do and about how it works. After that it's a matter of trying to decide if there's a market for it at a price which will make money. Lots of ideas will work, but most of them won't make money because other products do about the same thing, or they cost too much for people to buy, or are too complicated for people to use. I try to pick ones that most people can figure out how to use and that aren't competing with other better known products. I wouldn't invest in something like an operating system for computers unless the developers could convince me that they had a product that was enough better than Windows to where they could sell it, and by selling it they would need to show it was easy enough to use to where people wouldn't have problems switching from Windows. No matter how good something is, if people have trouble using it, it won't sell enough to make much money. "Look Sam, most people who fail when starting a business do so because they allowed emotion to color their judgment. They got caught up in how great it could be and didn't think of the problems they might have. That causes them to do such things as try to start a business without sufficient capital to last until it is successful. I've invested a great share of our money in startup companies because the return, if successful, is very high. Even though I try to research the ideas and planning behind each investment, more of them fail than succeed. Yet if you invest a hundred thousand dollars in each of five companies, and one of them hits it big, then the other four can fail and you're still ahead. I'll admit I've been on a winning streak lately, but think back, there were other times I didn't do as well. So making money isn't so much a matter of luck as it is hard work and knowledge. Having enough money to where I could take the time to research the investments is what has made the difference. People say the rich get richer and that's true, but not for the reasons many people think. It's because they've learned how to judge things and have the money to invest. You'd never be good at it because you want to teach and that doesn't allow you enough time to do it right. I studied computers and business. When I made enough to where I no longer had to worry about feeding my family, then I had the time to invest money properly. I've told you this before but it bears repeating. As you well know, the program I wrote which made me financially independent was not something I planned. It was just a solution to a nagging problem and it made me a ton of money. After that is when I quit and went on my own. The only real luck involved was getting hooked up with several people and then forming BRKLY Investments. Three of the other four people I knew through my work and Yates was a friend of Fred Kiser. We all had some money to invest and we decided to invest in the venture capital area. I'd drop Lofton Consulting except it keeps me in touch with the industry and helps me in evaluating opportunities. "What it amounts to is I started out to work in software design, but found I enjoy investing and helping small companies get started. I never had the one big goal like you do. I can still remember when you told me you wanted to be a teacher and the way your eyes were shining and the grin on your face. What were you, twelve or thirteen at the time? Me, I just found a job and then found something I'm good at. Anyhow, that's why I took two majors in college; I couldn't decide what I wanted to do. Well I found it. Sure, making money is nice, but what I really like about it is helping people get started. With my business education background and my knowledge in the computer field it's enabled me to be successful at what I enjoy doing. To me it's the challenge of solving the problems and making it work." We were just about home, but Uncle Matt had given me some things to think about. I'd always wondered why some people got rich and others didn't, but to hear him explain it put a new understanding on part of it. I even remembered thinking that those who got rich must have some way of cheating, yet for some reason I had never applied it to Uncle Matt or myself. It had always been someone else who cheated, but now I wondered if other people thought the same of us. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if it wasn't a form of jealously that had made me think that. I knew several people who were wealthy and none of them appeared to be the type who would cheat, yet for some reason that thought had been placed in my head from somewhere. It was an insidious thought with nothing to back it up, but somewhere along the way society had caused me to think that way. "Why is it that some people think you have to cheat to get rich?" I asked Uncle Matt. There was a pause before he answered, but then he said, "I'm not sure. Maybe it's because they can't figure out how to do it themselves and are unwilling to admit that they aren't as good at making money as someone else. It doesn't help that sometimes a big company, such as Enron, breaks the law and gets caught. People tend to focus on that one company, never thinking about all the companies who don't break the law. They just lump all companies together and think they all break the law." He paused and then asked me a question. "You studied history. I know you did because I helped you with it. Do you remember studying about the labor movement? Perhaps some of the hatred of business is still a carryover from that movement." He was right. I had studied the history of the labor movement for a high school project. One of the things I'd learned was the animosity between labor and management and the attitude of us versus them on both sides. I remembered being stunned at how people had been treated and the bitter battles between the Wobblies (Industrial Workers of the World, or IWW) and companies in the early twentieth century. There had been murders committed by both sides and factories destroyed. I'd had a hard time believing that because it appeared to me that both sides needed each other. Yet the facts were clear and those battles had taken place. Such battles in the U.S. and other countries had changed the world, and for the better as I saw it. Those movements had produced a change in attitude to where people now took it for granted, in most western nations, that workers were entitled to be treated fairly. Before then the workers were at the mercy of their employers and had no recourse of any kind except to quit, and that wasn't much of an option since most people had to work or starve. Yet now the effects of such battles were still hanging on and sometimes interfering in the best interests of both the workers and the company because both sides still believed the other was trying to take advantage of it. I sometimes wondered why both sides seemed unwilling to recognize they needed the other and then set about to try to work together. A company needs its employees just as those employees need the company to furnish them jobs "I see. Part of the reason people distrust companies might stem from the labor movement. That makes sense. Kind of a combination of jealousy and the attitude that unions and management are enemies," I said. "Then when a big company does something wrong it makes headlines and people think that confirms their belief, but they never stop to think of all the companies who don't break the law." "What's the matter Sam? Feeling a little guilty that you've got some money and other people don't have as much?" Uncle Matt had nailed it. I was feeling guilty that everything I did seemed to work out pretty well and other people didn't appear to have that luck. Before I could think any further he continued. "Think about the price you paid for that money. How much are your mom and dad worth to you?" That question made me again realize that no amount of money could ever replace them. Once again he continued before I could say anything. "Don't feel guilty. You're trying to set up a college scholarship program for the kids in your school, you've taken on a bunch of kids to raise, and I know you give heavily to charities. Without that money you couldn't do any of that, so the money is doing good. I went through the same feelings when I sold that program. It didn't feel right and I wondered if I was entitled to the money. I looked around at all the poor people and I wondered why I had money and they didn't. Then I figured out that some people are good at one thing, and others are good at another. Just accept the talents you've been blessed with and use them to the best of your ability. You can't save the whole world, but you can try to make your little part of it better. Looks to me like you're doing a pretty good job of that." By now we were parked in the garage and Uncle Matt had shut the Gator off. I was still thinking over his last statement as I opened the door and got out. He was mostly right. Without the money there was no way I could begin to set up a scholarship program, and I did give to various charities. As for raising the boys, had it not been for the money I would likely have rented an apartment instead of buying a home, and somehow I couldn't imagine that I'd have rented one big enough for all the boys. Then there was Judy's statement about knowing I wasn't in it for the money. Suddenly I no longer felt as guilty and felt better about myself. Now if I could just get some more information out of David. I glanced at my watch and saw I just had time to call my realtor and get him working on buying the property Mr. Bledsoe had suggested. Thinking that would only take a couple of minutes proved very wrong as John wanted to talk about it and was willing to talk long after he should have closed his office and gone home. I could hear Aunt Sandy and Kath in the kitchen and soon could smell good smells coming from there while John kept talking about how to structure the offer and on and on. The thought went through my mind that he wanted the commission pretty badly to continue talking so long, but then I learned, from an idle comment of his, that his wife was out of town. A simple way to end the phone call was to invite him to dinner and since I could smell that spaghetti was on the menu I was certain there would be plenty. He accepted and I finally managed to hang up and go look for a cup of coffee. I even got that cup of coffee, but only after explaining about the dinner guest and then having to taste and adjust the seasoning of the spaghetti sauce. Then I looked things over and added a little diced salami and some diced cheese to the green salad, along with a few sliced olives. John showed up just in time for dinner and while eating we learned his wife's father had suffered a stroke and his wife was staying with her mother while her father was in the hospital. That left John at loose ends so he had been putting in some extra hours at his business. After dinner the adults retired to the living room while the kids took over the family room. When everyone was comfortable we got around to talking about property. John was amazed that Ralph had agreed to sell. Every realtor in the area had approached him at one time or another trying to get him to list his property with them, but to no avail. It suddenly occurred to me that we likely would have had no success without Vern's help. Sometimes it is a question of who you know which opens the door and the fact that Vern and Ralph had been friends probably opened that door for Uncle Matt and me. John was just leaving when the phone rang. It was Carl Benson from Medford and he wanted to tell me about a gathering of artists which he thought Corey might enjoy attending. It was scheduled for the weekend after this coming one and would be held in Eugene. Carl thought there would be much to interest Corey and wanted to know if I would like him to make reservations for us. I told him probably but that I needed to talk with Corey and would call him back in a little while. We talked a couple of more minutes and I figured out there would be little to interest the rest of the boys unless it was something unrelated to the seminar. I was trying to think of what else the boys would enjoy when it occurred to me that this was the perfect opportunity for a little time for the two of us. I wasn't sure just what the plans for Bruno and Sarah would be, but Kath could see that the rest of the boys were fed and beyond that they could survive with her supervision. Judy had been right. I needed a housekeeper and hadn't realized just how much. I now had a lot more freedom to do things with one or another of the boys and just hadn't understood that yet. I got Corey aside and asked him if he wanted to go. His eyes started sparkling and I was soon explaining what Carl had told me. It was supposed to be a meeting where you brought some of your work and everyone then tried to help you by pointing out what was wrong with it and how to improve it. I told him I needed to check with Kath, but if she could watch the rest of the boys it was on. He started leering at me when I told him we would have two nights by ourselves. I leered right back. That thought sounded good to me also. Kath had no other plans so I started to call Carl back. Just as I reached for the phone it rang, startling me. This time it was Bob, wondering if we were going to go. I told him that I had just started to call Carl and tell him we were going when he had called. Bob promised to help Corey pick out a couple of his paintings, which would be the best ones to take, and after a few more minutes we finished our call. I did learn that Carl would be taking his travel trailer and that Bob was going to go with him. That got me to wondering if Corey and I should do the same with ours, and when I was talking with Carl I asked what he thought. He suggested that we take the trailer and recommended we stay in a park called Premier R.V. Resorts of Eugene, which was north of Eugene in Coburg. He said it was a little on the expensive side, but was a really nice park and that you got the morning paper and a continental breakfast for the price. I didn't bother to tell him that Corey would never be satisfied with a continental breakfast, but his description of the park sounded good so I jotted down the phone number he provided and turned the phone over to Corey. They jabbered away at each other and I eventually gave up and used my cell phone to make reservations at the park. The rest of the evening was spent talking about picking Bruno and Sarah up. Uncle Matt eventually convinced us that he should be the one to do it although he wanted to use the Gator since it had more room than his sedan. I told him that was fine since I still had the pickup and Corey's mother's car. When we had all that settled, Corey told me we needed to check the spare tire because in her letter his mother had mentioned something about needing to fix the spare tire. I told him we could take it to the tire shop, but he said she had told him that we should fix it ourselves. That seemed weird so I asked him to bring the letter and let me see what she had said. I'd never read the letter and for that matter, this was the first time he had even mentioned any of its contents. The last time I had seen it was in the Gator when he stuffed it in his jacket pocket. While I'd thought about it a couple times and wondered what it said, I had never remembered to ask him. The letter was weird. It was like she was trying to tell us something without saying it. After reading it a couple of times I still didn't understand just why she was saying what she was, so I decided to check. While I didn't have any tools to take a tire apart, it wouldn't hurt to look. Uncle Matt joined us as we walked out to the shop. When I opened the trunk and actually looked, the tire looked alright except it was flat. We got it out of the trunk and looked it over some more, but could find no obvious reason for it to be flat. It wasn't clear flat, but in only had enough air to keep its shape and hold it on the wheel. When I rustled up an air gauge and tested it, there was only about three pounds in it. Uncle Matt suggested we take it apart. That sounded good to me but I wasn't sure how to do that without any tire tools. We hunted around and found a valve core tool which I'd acquired to work on bike tires and we let the rest of the air out. Getting it off the rim proved to be the biggest challenge, but with some effort and sweat, and a lot of hammering on a pry bar we finally got one side, and then the other loose. It took every screwdriver and pry bar I had, but eventually we pryed one side off the wheel and much to our surprise found another letter and several bundles of money taped to the inside of the tire. I don't know who was the most surprised, but we were all standing there with our mouths open. The bundles of money were mostly one hundred dollar bills and there were four of them, three about the same size and one smaller one. The letter was addressed to Corey and I finally got over my shock enough to hand it to him. While Corey was reading the letter, Uncle Matt and I counted the money. The three larger bundles each contained twenty thousand dollars, and the smaller one contained twelve thousand, six hundred and eighty dollars. `This isn't what I expected," Uncle Matt said. He wasn't alone in that. "Me neither," I replied. "What's the letter say?" Uncle Matt asked Corey. Corey just handed it to him, and after he read it he handed it to me. It was a three page letter, but only the first page contained a message. Basically it said that Mrs. Babcock knew she didn't have long to live because she had been diagnosed with HIV and so had decided to try to make some arrangements for Corey's future. She decided to do it by working in the drug trade. She had met up with an addict in the rehab center and he told her who to contact. She worked her way up to delivering drugs to the street dealers and then picking up the money and taking it back to the supplier. She also said she was sorry she wouldn't be around to see him grow up and hoped he was happy living with me. The second half of the first page was an apology to Corey for her not being able to control her drug habit. The whole thing was somewhat disjointed, but no one would have any problems understanding what she was saying. The anguish she expressed at knowing she was disappointing him and letting him down was apparent. The next two pages were names and addresses, along with phone numbers of the people she had been in contact with in the drug trade. A lot of them were only first names and where places where they could be reached, but the whole thing looked like it added up to some sort of an organizational chart with people listed in descending order and the links spelled out. "Wow," I said as I finished reading the letter. "I didn't expect anything like this. I suppose we ought to turn this over to the police." Then I looked up and noticed Corey. He was just standing there and looked like his last friend had died. He had pretty well recovered from his mother's death, but this brought it all back to him. As I stepped towards him he started to crumple to the floor and it was only the fact I was close that enabled me to catch him and hold him upright before he hit the floor. He didn't hang on to me or anything like that, he just started crying. Uncle Matt suggested we go back to the house and he picked up the letter from the floor where I had dropped it when I reached for Corey. He then headed for the door after picking the money up, but I was having more problems. Corey was just sagging against me and didn't seem to be willing to stand. It wasn't that I couldn't pick him up and pack him that far, it was that in order to do so he would have to be draped over my shoulder and that isn't a comfortable way to be carried. Corey was now up to about one hundred and twenty pounds and there was no way I could figure out to carry him in my arms that far. Then Uncle Matt had a good idea and suggested we use the trailer which was right beside us and was plugged in. He opened the door and between the two of us we managed to more or less drag Corey in and get him on the sofa. All I could do was sit beside him with my arms around him and try to comfort him. Uncle Matt said he would give us some time and he left to go back to the house, leaving the money and the letter on the counter in the kitchen. After another ten minutes or so Corey's crying started to slow. However, he asked why she hadn't told him, or why she hadn't sought treatment. I didn't have any answers and could only sympathize with him. Aunt Sandy came in and immediately went over and turned the thermostat up. It was chilly in the trailer since I only kept the heat turned low when we weren't using it. I tried to keep the trailer just warm enough to keep it dry and prevent any damage, but that was far from a comfortable temperature to sit in. The furnace kicked in and soon I could feel warm air blowing gently around. Bless Aunt Sandy's heart; she understood the situation perfectly and never said a word. When she was satisfied we would be comfortable, she left. After a while Corey turned his tear stained face towards me and asked, "Why?" He sobbed some more and continued, "Why wouldn't she tell me? We coulda got her help." Since I didn't have any good answers, I did the best I could. "I don't know. I don't think people think very well when they're suddenly faced with the prospects of their own death. Remember, she had a drug habit which was destroying her, and then to be told she HIV positive, well maybe it was more than she could understand. I know there are medicines now that help people who are HIV positive, but maybe she wasn't aware of all the advances and even if she was, those don't always work. "Your mother didn't have a very happy life. I think maybe you were the only happy thing in it. Perhaps when she thought she wouldn't be around to see you finish growing it was too much for her and she came up with the silly idea of doing something that was dangerous. Or maybe she was so afraid of dying because of AIDS that she thought by doing what she did she would never have to face that. "Yet she loved you. Maybe she didn't tell you that often enough and maybe things went wrong at the last, but she risked her life to try to help you." I hoped the message that his mother loved him and wanted to help him would ease his pain. I could have told him that I loved him, but I frequently did so and thought that trying to make sure he understood that his mother had loved him was more important than telling him I loved him right at this time. I had my arms around him and that would probably do more to show him I loved him than any words I could come up with. As I sat there holding him I wished there was some way I could take his pain away and shoulder it myself. He didn't deserve to be hurt like this, but there was no way I could do it. We all have to suffer through our own pain and nothing anyone can do will remove that pain. The best that can be done is to let them know you are there to help them in any way you can. In this instance my holding him was about the best I could do, at least in my mind. Corey stopped crying and after a while he sighed. The sudden pain of once again visiting his mother's death was easing, but if he were like me there would be other times it reached out and grabbed him. Even now there were times when something happened and my mind immediately thought that I needed to tell Mom or Dad about it, and then suddenly the realization that they were gone would crash back into my consciousness. Six years had dulled the pain somewhat, but it still hurt. "Ready to go back in and face people?" I asked. "Yeah, I guess," he replied. With that we got up and I found a washcloth so he would wipe the tear tracks from his face. After that we headed for the house to make plans on what to do about the letter and money. That brought up an interesting discussion. Everyone thought that the names and addresses should be turned over, but no one was quite sure how deal with the money. There wasn't anything in the letter that explicitly said it was drug money, but it about had to be. Yet without any proof of that, what right had the state or any other governmental body to it. When I checked the time it was still a few minutes before nine and I decided to call Russ. After I had explained it all to him, his comments didn't help much. He referred to it as an interesting legal and ethical problem. We all agreed that it was most likely drug money, but there was no actual proof of that except for the murderer's statement to the effect that she was killed because she didn't pay for some drugs. That left the question of was that sufficient proof that the money was drug money, or did it not? After hemming and hawing for a while Russ suggested that the money not be turned over unless it was asked for, and then to ask them to give a written explanation as to why they requested it be turned over. He wanted to see any such explanation and would decide what to do then. In the meantime I was to make certain of the amount and take it with us when we talked with the police. He further suggested giving them the letter and keeping the money out of sight. Bruno and Sarah's plane was scheduled to land at eleven so the question then became why didn't Corey and I go along with Uncle Matt to meet them and take care of talking with the police at the same time. We would have to leave somewhat earlier, but that was deemed the best way to handle the whole thing. By the time all that was decided it was time for bed. At least tonight David hadn't fallen asleep in my place, so after making sure he was in the old sex room, it was off to bed with Corey and the giggle boxes. I did have to chase Dog down to the foot of the bed, but it was nice to have my normal place and pillow. As I fell asleep I wondered how much longer the giggle boxes would want to sleep with me. Much as I loved them this was getting old. It got even older when David showed up at something after two and was crying. Nightmares had once again awakened him and he wanted to be held. I reluctantly gave Dog my place and once again was at the foot of the bed trying to calm David. It didn't take me long to drop back off, but I don't know about David. He was still sniffling the last I heard. To be continued...