“Okaaaay.” That’s all Bill could say as he was still processing all that he was been told, trying to figure out what this meant.
“Promise me, Bill.”
“Okay Max… I… I promise”
“And do not tell anyone, not even Lisa what is here. You can tell her that you have a key to my house, which of course, works all the doors as well, but do not tell her about this room. No one must know, unless of course, you need what’s here. I’ll leave that decision to you.”
“One more thing,” Max continued, “in the event of my death, I have left the LLC that owns the house to transfer to you and Lisa. Of course, as you know, like with your home, a Mexican bank trust owns the house, but you would essentially own it. I would also leave you some additional assets to make sure you can keep the place up. It’s a bit expensive to run. Here is a business card to my notario who has all the details.”
“I’m really starting to freak out here. Why all this? Why are you telling me this now? Are you ill?” Bills eyes were wide and full of concern. He still held the key outward in his hand, with the lanyard dangling down.
“Is that all you can say, my friend, after I told you I’m giving you all of my toys? Fine, maybe Clydeston,” Max pointed towards his neighbor to the East of him, “would like my house. It has a bitching sound system. Isn’t that how the young people say it?”
“Stop the bullshit, Max. What’s going on? You know, I love you as a brother. Why are you doing this, really?” Bill thrust his right hand, which was holding the key at Max, poking him in the chest with it.
“Okay, maybe bullshit is the correct term. Maybe I believe my own bullshit now. I’m just worried that the shit will hit the fan, and maybe very soon. There are just so many things going wrong for America and for the world right now. Call me paranoid, and I’m probably wrong, but I also realize that you, Lisa, and your family are my family. If something ever does happen, you get your ass down here and into my house. You’ll be as safe as you can be. Besides, I just needed to be able to tell you about this. I’ve held this secret for so long, I felt like I was going to burst. I have no family, other than an ex-wife, who doesn’t want anything to do with me and who is now married to a plastic surgeon. Again, you are my family. You are my best friend, my brother.” Max paused again to make sure he was getting through to him.
“Will you accept this from me, brother?” Max thrust his hand out.
Bill considered his answer and everything Max had just said to him and after a long time answered, “Of course, brother.” Bill was quite relieved that his friend wasn’t dying, and that he just wanted to entrust his secrets to him. The threat Max mentioned was already forgotten, minimized like so many of Max’s past warnings of doom. He stepped past his outstretched hand and embraced him with a hug. “Just don’t die on us anytime soon. We need you more than we need your treasure trove of toys.”
“Deal.” Max hugged back and released Bill.
“By the way, you never said if you were coming over tomorrow night. We should have twelve, including you.”
“What and miss our neighborhood association president Clyde Clydeston, bloviate on something useless? Of course, I’m coming.” Max smiled that snide smile he had when he was going to say something a little off-color. “Besides, I hear Clyde has a new girlfriend with big boobs and she speaks little English. I wouldn’t miss it.”
“I can always count on you for so many things, Max,” Bill said while putting the lanyard and key over his head for safekeeping as Max requested. The weight of the key pressed on him as did the troubling thought that his family’s life might one day depend on this key.
8.
Sally
Sally was tapping away on the keyboard of her MacBook Air. Every couple of seconds, her computer would make a ding sound indicating that one of her followers on Google+ just posted a comment in reply to one of her previous posts. She had already posted five times before breakfast, curating stories from the net, and pointing to an article she had written last week about the newest Samsung smartphone, published last night on the largest computer blog on the net. Although she arose long before sunrise, having inherited the same sleeping habits as her father, she didn’t need to do any work.
She had pre-written all her posts on DoShare, and scheduled them for release at the rate of three per day during her vacation. Some were complete with video, including unboxing various products that she was blessed to see before anyone else, other than a few other tech reviewers like her. She also had four more articles pre-written which were being published over the course of the next two weeks over three different blogs, and the one with which she felt the most pride, the Wall Street Journal Tech Sector. She had already done a ton of work ahead of time, so she didn’t need to do anymore.
However, she couldn’t help it. Part of her drive was the desire to be known as the best in her field. The other part was her guilt in making sure that her 2.5 million followers on Google+ received the kind of cutting edge info they had come to expect from her, and of course, there were the sponsors. This was something new, so she vowed to step up her game when she signed up several sponsors, including two from some big name gadget suppliers. Mostly, she just loved stumbling onto that esoteric story or two, which no one else seemed to know about. She felt like she was this era’s version of Woodward & Bernstein, without the deep throat, combing through the next big story. So, each day, in addition to her “work,” even while on vacation, she vowed to post at least two fresh things.
Sally’s journalistic sources ranged from between two hundred or so eNewsletters, thousands of posts and emails from followers, and hundreds of RSS feeds from the biggest to the smallest news providers. If she thoroughly reviewed all her sources, it would take her hours each day to cull through what was available. Instead, she relied on her assistant Brian to invest the time doing this work for her. She would then usually spend about twenty minutes, three times per day, doing a quick overview of these sources again, using a program she designed, and reviewing Brian’s notes of suggested posts that he messaged her on her intranet site. That was the beauty of where she was. Brian could do a lot of the heavy lifting for her, and he even wrote some of the posts for her.
Brian was a find, fresh out of college, a blogger and Google+ devotee in his own right, with 50,000 followers. Brian was one of Sally’s early followers right when Google+ started. He became one of her lead sources for new info. He would find stuff she would miss. When Brian was about to graduate, he let her know that he was available, even suggesting the position and salary he would take to work for her. Therefore, he was hired away from Google, who wanted him as well. Financially, it was a stretch for Sally, but it had paid off in spades when she secured her first few sponsors. Now she couldn’t imagine doing what she did without Brian.
He was a research hound. If you gave him a few clues, he could solve any mystery. This was very helpful when she would do some of her unboxing videos on new products. He would find out the details of what led that manufacture to make the changes Sally and Brian discovered when they examined a new product. He also had a similar knack for finding the stories that Sally had done on her own, which earned her so many followers. Now he was doing it for her.
She already reviewed Brian’s notes from last night and this morning, thanking him for it. There was nothing too exciting to report. In fact, Brian was going to post a couple of things on her behalf which were worthy, but didn’t interest her too much. Today, she wanted to have a little fun and really peruse her sources. She rarely had time to play the game, which was much more fun to her than lying on the beach. She was looking for the bizarre, maybe even the crazy.