Chapter 23 — The Future Will Have to Worry About Itself

_December 5, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

{psc} On Monday, when I arrived at the office, I stopped in to check with Rich and Mark about any events overnight, then went to the new Research Department offices. I was the first in, and saw, as Jack had said, everything was moved and set up, ready for the team to begin work.

I walked into the break room, put my lunch in the empty fridge, started a pot of coffee, and then went to my new office. I hung my suit coat on a hanger behind the door, sat down, turned on my IBM PC and Bloomberg terminal, and got to work. Tony arrived about twenty minutes later and came to the door.

"Nice," he said, surveying the office. "We just need some artwork. I'm not sure if you're aware, but Mr. Spurgeon has a large selection of art from which you could choose."

"I commissioned five paintings from Deanna Haight," I said. "She's the artist renting the loft at my house. It'll be a few months, but they'll go up on the walls here. All abstract."

"That's cool. I didn't realize one of your housemates was an artist."

"You must have missed the article in the 'Tempo' section of the _Trib_ where my name was mentioned as her patron."

"I don't pay much attention to anything other than the comics in the 'Tempo' section. How did that come about?"

"Let's get some coffee, and I'll tell you."

We went to the break room, and I poured coffee for each of us into new Spurgeon Capital Research mugs that Mr. Matheson had purchased for us, and I explained meeting Deanna, the art show, and the article by Stan Jakes.

"You have a very interesting setup," he observed. "Married, Bianca's having your baby, and you have another female housemate!"

"Two, actually, not to mention Jack Clinton and his fiancée Kristy Benton."

"Mark Benton's daughter and the mailroom guy?"

"Yes."

"Things are sure changing, because a few years ago, no trader would be caught dead with their daughter marrying a mailroom guy!"

"I don't buy any of the classist crap," I replied. "And neither does Kristy. Jack is actually studying for his securities license. He'll follow a more traditional path and be a runner at one of the exchanges in a few years."

"How's your wife?"

"About the same," I replied. "But you know the score."

"Sucks, man."

"It does."

"Morning!" Steve Smith said, coming into the break room.

"Morning," I replied. "Everything good with your setup?"

"Excellent. Bianca really thought it through. I have a question for you."

"Sure. What?"

"What's your take on the Black–Scholes model for hedging?"

"I think it's one possible input into the mix of analyses," I replied. "I absolutely think we should use it, though, as with all formulae, tempered with other methods."

"I'd like to work it into currency hedges to start with."

"That makes sense," I replied. "Did you discuss it with Bianca?"

"Yes. She asked me to run it by you."

"Do it, and use a thirty-day testing period where you generate the numbers and make paper trades. Bring me that analysis, and if it provides an advantage, we'll incorporate it into the FX analysis."

"Great! On it!"

"Thanks. I know it's only your second day, but what do you think?"

"I get paid to think?" he asked with a grin. "Who knew?!"

"I take it your old job was 'write this program', and you had little input."

"Effectively zero. It's one reason I was interested in this job — I get to have real input into what I'm doing and write elegant, efficient code of my own design. Well, with Bianca's blessing."

I chuckled, "Story of my life in Chicago so far! Not much happens without Bianca's blessing!"

"But you're not married to her, right?"

"Right. It's a complex situation."

"The best ones are!" he grinned. "Off to the salt mines!"

He poured coffee and left the break room.

"He's a real character," Tony said. "I spoke with him for about fifteen minutes on Friday, and he can be a real smart ass. I think he toned it down because you're the boss."

"Someone has to be in charge, but we're a team," I countered. "We sink or swim together. And you know Noel Spurgeon could wipe the team out as quickly as he created it."

"The desks are all on board now that Enderlee is gone, right?"

"There's some low-level bitching, but we're turning out better work product as a department than we did as individual analysts, so it's muted. You know a few of the traders think their dick size is directly affected by the number of staff they have."

"Well," Tony smirked, "you have the largest staff…"

I laughed, "On that note…"

"Yeah!"

We left the break room, he went to his desk, which was right outside my office, and I stopped to talk to Scott, who had just arrived. Two minutes later, I went to my office, and I had just sat down when Bianca stuck her head in to say 'Hello'.

"I need some time with you to show you how to work with the shared files on the Novell server and the two shared printers."

"After lunch?" I suggested.

"Sounds good."

"I'll set time with the rest of the team, so for now, everyone will just save their reports to the library on the mainframe where the secretaries can access them. Once the entire department is up to speed, all of it will be saved on the Novell server, and we'll upload a single consolidated report."

"Thanks. Steve Smith talked to me about incorporating the Black–Scholes model into our analysis. I agreed though we'll run it in parallel for thirty days before we incorporate it. That'll let us iron out any glitches. I didn't ask, but how long to set that up?"

"The equation and formulae are well defined," Bianca replied. "We just need to add Delta and Gamma into the analysis we already do with Alpha and Beta. There are a pair of financial journal articles from 1973 that give the equations and technical explanation, which Steve has. Those are sufficient to program the model; it should take no more than a day or two to have a working model. Could I suggest we plan to go live on the first trading day of next year? That's less than thirty days, but it would be a good breaking point."

I thought about it for a minute before answering.

"I think so. It's only one component, and we're only going to use it for hedging FX to begin with."

"Thanks. I'll run regression models every Monday to cover the previous week, as well as some historical regressions."

"Can I say I'm very glad I'm taking this stats class, so I have a clue what you're talking about?"

Bianca laughed, "You can. Did you cover anything like this in class?"

"Which?"

"Partial differential equations."

"No. The math class was basically remedial algebra and a basic introduction to calculus. I'll need to actually take two semesters of calculus before I could even begin to understand the math behind the complex models. The cool thing is, I don't have to! That's what I have you and Steve for and why we rely on the work of mathematicians! I'll probably take those courses."

"Are you signed up for next semester?"

"International finance on Saturday mornings," I replied. "I think I'll skip the Summer, then take first-semester calculus in the Fall. What about you?"

"Probably a year from January; the baby should be sleeping through the night by then."

"Our next pre-natal visit is on Saturday morning, right?"

"Yes, at 9:00am. I figure we just go straight from Doctor Wisniewski's office to Jewel and the dry cleaners. I checked, and Deanna will be home with Keiko."

"Did Keiko tell you Ellie and some of the girls were coming over for dinner tonight?"

"Yes."

"She's ordering Chinese, and enough for everyone."

"She let me know. I need to get some coffee and get to work!"

She left, and I began updating my global stability report. The world was, all things being equal, comparatively calm now that the operations in Grenada had concluded, and nothing much had come of the Soviet downing of KAL 007. The usual low-intensity conflicts were continuing, but none of them appeared to be spreading, and the Soviets were, as best I could tell, trying desperately to find a face-saving way out of Afghanistan.

The biggest concern was terrorism, but things on that front were at a relative lull since the Beirut barracks bombing. The best analysis said the lull would not last, but it was impossible to predict how or where any of the innumerable terror groups might strike. Given that impossibility, I could only account for the risk of terror attacks, which, from what I could discern, I rated as moderate.

Perhaps the most interesting item was the upcoming transition from rule by military junta to democracy in Argentina. Raúl Alfonsín was set to begin a term as President on Saturday, and that, to me, increased the notional risk for instability in Argentina and certainly warranted keeping a very close eye on their currency and economy. I couldn't judge the chances of success with any certainty, but if Argentina's history meant anything, financial and political instability would continue for quite some time.

Volumes on the exchanges were dropping as December progressed, a normal event, as many traders began taking vacations and had configured their portfolios to more or less operate on autopilot, barring some major world event which would call them back to their desks. December options expiry was also one of the calmest, as many of those positions were closed out before the traders went on vacation.

I completed my analysis, and as my teams filed their reports, I reviewed them, making notes both for constructive criticism, but also items to review for my Cincinnatus Fund. If my call on AUD was even close to accurate, my total return for the year would be 35%, against the S&P and DJIA, which were predicted to return around 20%.

Barring some bizarre occurrences in the markets, I was going to beat Murray Matheson, as his projected return was around 30%, though he was somewhat hamstrung by the money he managed for international trade counting against his total return. As for Noel Spurgeon, I was neck-and-neck with the Spurgeon Select Fund, and it would be interesting to see his reaction if I beat him.

I was reasonably sure I'd be paid my full bonus for the year, and with my salary, commissions, special bonus, and carried interest, I'd make north of $200,000 for the year. While that number was staggering, it was a tenth of what Mr. Matheson was likely to earn, and Noel Spurgeon would make at least five times what Mr. Matheson did, not counting the returns he earned on his personal capital.

Despite the staggering number, I'd give it all up if it meant Keiko could be cured. Sadly, even all of Noel Spurgeon's money wouldn't help without a matching donor, which we hadn't found despite the assistance of his friend in Japan. There were, simply, plenty of things money could not buy.

I had lunch with Bianca in the break room, we worked out, and then she spent thirty minutes with me showing me how to save my work on the Novell server and how to use the shared printers. At 2:00pm, we all gathered for our weekly staff meeting, and then at 3:00pm, I headed home.

Not long after I arrived, Ellie, Meg, Kasey, and Josie arrived to spend the evening with Keiko. I ate with them but then hung out with Deanna and CeCi so the girls could have some time together. They stayed until just before 9:00pm, and after they left, Keiko and I went up to bed, with me helping her with her oxygen cylinder.

"Did you have a good time with your friends?" I asked once I'd helped her settle into bed.

"I did. Thank you for understanding."

"I think you're the one who deserves the thanks, given how much time I spend with Violet."

"She's going to need you for the rest of her life," Keiko said quietly.

"I suspect you're right," I said, getting into bed next to Keiko.

"Do you think it's possible for her to get past what happened to her?"

"Possible? Yes. I have no idea what the probability might be."

"If she could, you'd be a perfect couple."

"Keiko-chan," I said gently. "Please don't."

"You know I worry about you."

"I do. And I appreciate that."

"I love you very much, Jonathan, and I want what's best for you in the future."

"I know," I replied. "I love you very much, and, for now, the future will have to worry about itself."

_December 8, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

When I arrived home on Wednesday, Keiko was sitting in one of the Papasan chairs and was wearing an oxygen mask. I thanked Atsuko, who left, then walked over to Keiko, who moved the oxygen mask so we could share a kiss.

"How bad?" I asked.

"My blood oxygen levels, what Jennifer called PO₂, were down to 89% on the cannula, so she spoke to Doctor Morrison, who said to switch from the cannula to the mask. That brought my oxygen level up to 93%."

"How are you feeling?"

"A bit better. I was feeling very weak and tired after you left for work. I took my nap in the bed here because I simply didn't feel I had the energy to climb the stairs."

"Have you eaten properly today?"

"Yes. I don't have much of an appetite, but my grandmother makes sure I eat my small meals every few hours. And makes sure I drink enough water and herbal tea."

"OK. Let me go change, then I'll come sit with you."

I went upstairs to change, and while I was undressing, I decided to place a call to Doctor Morrison. Once I had on my sweatpants and rugby shirt, I picked up the Slimline phone and dialed his number. I was fortunate to catch him in his office.

"Morrison; Oncology."

"Hi, Doctor Morrison; it's Jonathan Kane."

"Hi, Jonathan. I assume you're calling about Keiko's blood oxygen?"

"Yes. I remember you mentioned this was likely, but I'd like to know what to expect next."

"In all honesty, I cannot give you an answer with any certainty."

"Speculate, please. And please be direct and don't pull any punches."

"Let me answer this way," he said. "As her blood oxygen levels decrease, she'll have less and less energy. At some point, she'll need a catheter because she simply won't be able to get out of bed to use the toilet. When that happens, we'll switch her to what amounts to a liquid diet – a drink made with protein powder and the pediatric solution she drinks to maintain her electrolyte balance.

"Over the next few weeks, her kidneys and liver will function less effectively, and unless she agrees to dialysis, it will lead to decreased mental acuity, to the point where she becomes incoherent. That's when she'd need a nasogastric tube for nourishment — a feeding tube which goes into her nose. She could refuse that, which I suspect she will, and we'd sustain her with a glucose IV.

"Eventually, fluid and toxins will build up in her system, and she'll likely suffer from pulmonary edema — fluid in her lungs. In addition, fluid will build up in the sac around her heart. We'll give her Lasix, a diuretic, but eventually her organs will fail, and it's very likely she'll suffer coronary arrest."

"There's no way she's going to accept dialysis."

"I know. It was something I discussed with her."

"How long?"

"She refused any additional blood tests, which I understand, but that makes it hard to judge."

"Just a range, please," I requested.

"Weeks. I do not see how she could make it past mid-January, and even that long would be out of the ordinary."

"So, six weeks at the outside, but if I hear what you're saying, three or four is more likely."

"Yes. But, as I said, I can't really give you a specific answer."

"Thanks, Doctor. Is there anything I can do to make her more comfortable?"

"You have everything you need, and I've written the prescriptions. We can't give her many of the usual pain drugs, as they would suppress her respiration, which is already poor to start with, or they induce edema — the build-up of fluids. My choice, given all the possibilities, is IV ibuprofen and IV acetaminophen, basically a mix of Advil and Tylenol, in layman's terms. If those become ineffective, we'll give her Dilaudid because, at that point, the risk of depressed respiratory effects won't matter much. We'll also give her Versed to help her sleep."

"From what you're saying, if I can read between the lines, she could be incoherent before Christmas."

"I'd say that's entirely possible and perhaps even likely. I'm sorry, Jonathan."

"You've done everything possible, Doctor," I said. "If there's a fist to shake, it's at the universe, not at you."

"Thank you."

"How do I handle the end?" I asked.

"You have her signed and notarized Do Not Resuscitate order, along with a handwritten letter declining hospitalization and declining an autopsy, right?"

"Yes."

"The best thing is to arrange with Horizon Hospice for twenty-four-hour care at the end. The nurses will know the signs. I'll give you a number to call, and either I or one of the other oncologists will come at the end and sign the certificate. At that point, the funeral home you're using can take over. There is no need to call the police or for an ambulance if a physician is in attendance."

"OK. I'll make those arrangements."

"May I give you a phone number? It's a support group for people who have lost a loved one to cancer."

"I'm not sure that's my thing," I said. "But I'll take the number."

He read it to me, I thanked him for everything, and we ended the call. I replaced the receiver in the cradle, then went downstairs to be with Keiko.

"What took so long?" she asked.

"I called Doctor Morrison," I said. "I wanted to ask a few questions."

"I suspect they were the same ones I asked. Did he tell you I rejected dialysis?"

"Yes. As much as I want more time with you, I can't argue with you refusing treatment that will, in the end, only prolong your suffering. What about the feeding tube?"

"No. If I live to see New Year's, it'll be a small miracle. There's just no point. I will accept the catheter because there is literally no other option but a diaper."

"Speaking of which…"

Keiko smiled, "I'm going to eat less solid food, so that won't be a problem when I can no longer get out of bed. But there is one very important thing I want to do."

"What's that?"

"Make love," she said. "Once I have the catheter, we can't. Once a day until then. Will you?"

"Of course."

"Then shut the door and make love to me. I figure we need to be sitting up."

I nodded, walked over, and shut the door. Keiko took off the oxygen mask, then carefully undressed. I did the same and pulled her into my lap.

"Oxygen?" I asked.

She shook her head, "I want to kiss, and fifteen minutes without oxygen won't make a difference in the end."

We kissed, Keiko stroked me until I was hard, then, with my help, carefully impaled herself on me. She sighed deeply and rested her head on my shoulder.

"I love you so much, Jonathan," she said quietly.

"I love you, too, Keiko-chan.

_December 10, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

"Called it!" I declared happily when I saw a report on CNN about Australia floating their currency overnight.

"Totally not surprised!" Bianca declared. "Is there anything you need to do?"

"No. My orders are in, and if everything goes as planned, my limit orders should be executed the moment the market opens on Sunday, our time. I'll call Rich tomorrow evening to confirm."

"How much did you make?"

"Around $2 million for the Cincinnatus fund off the original float. How much I make on the limit orders depends on the bounce. I'd guess about a $500 grand."

"Jesus. You just made at least $50 grand, personally."

"Yes, but in carried interest, so it stays in the fund. Between my salary and the cash portion of my bonus, I absolutely don't need it."

"What's your fund value?"

"Including these gains, and the stock gains, around a $120 million."

"Which means you clear a hundred grand simply from the management fees!"

"Closer to around $70 grand because a good chunk of that is 'one and ten'."

"Which is in addition to your salary and bonus!"

"Yes."

"Plus the special bonus, so this year you'll clear a quarter mil, including carried interest."

"A bit more than that. My problem is not having much luck in raising capital beyond what I have. Remember, about $7.5 mil is Noel Spurgeon's money."

"What can we do to raise more capital?" Bianca asked.

"We?" I asked with a grin and an arched eyebrow.

"We! You, me, and Jack — our own firm. I suspect Ellie, too, once you finish teaching her!"

"I hear you, but there is literally nothing that has happened that gives me any reason to do it. I also have quite a few reasons not to, starting with needing my Series 30 license, which requires a sponsor."

"Sure, but a quarter bil is going to take some time to raise. And until you have that, you are tied down."

"True. Right now, though, I need to focus on Keiko and on our baby. Right now, everything except running the Research Department has to take a complete backseat to those things."

"Sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes."

I went to the Japanese room where Keiko was sitting with Deanna and Kristy, kissed Keiko, then left the house with Bianca.

"Is there anything special about this checkup?" I asked.

"No. Doctor Wisniewski will perform an ultrasound, and we can have a picture of our baby. I'm far enough along that the doctor could probably tell us if we're having a boy or girl. Do you want to know?"

"The practical side of me says it makes sense because we know what kind of clothes to buy in advance."

Bianca laughed softly, "All infant clothes are basically the same — onesies over diapers. And most people buy them in yellow, green, orange, purple, or red, so you don't have to worry about pink or blue. And diapers are the same for boys and girls."

"The sum-total of my experience was a few hours with Heather, but either Bev always took care of her. That's why I took Violet with me to Kansas City! So, I think, in the end, it's up to you."

"Unless you had some serious objection, I think I want to know."

"Then, by all means, ask. I'm going to assume the ultrasound pictures are good enough for that?"

"Yes, though according to my aunt, it's only a hundred percent certain if it's a boy because angles and the position of the baby may not reveal a penis, and it might look as if it's a girl. Hopefully, our little one isn't camera shy."

"What specifically do we need before April?"

"A crib, blankets, basic clothes, bottles, and diapers," Bianca replied.

"Basic clothes are those all-in-one things you mentioned?"

"Yes. I'm sure you saw Heather in them."

"What about a stroller?"

"Yes, though it needs to be the kind where he or she can lay flat, at least at first. Oh, and we'll need a car seat."

"Make a list, please, and we'll start buying the things we need. Did you want to decorate the nursery?"

"Yes, but I thought we should…"

"I think I get your point, but it hasn't been Keiko's room since we married. Yes, she slept in there after chemo, but our bedroom is ours, and all of her things are in our room or in the Japanese room."

"OK. Let me think about what I want to do, but bright colors, for sure. I assume you intend to keep the front room the way it is?"

"Yes. I like it that way, and not just as a memorial. I'll need to figure out what to do when we eventually move. Actually, I shouldn't assume. What's your plan?"

"At the moment? I'm happy with Juliette, and I don't see the need to try to bring a guy into the relationship. That would seriously complicate things no matter what the future holds."

"Complicate things? How so?"

"You and I raising a child together, calling me mom and you dad, and having another guy around."

"As opposed to another girl? I mean, isn't it the same? Almost like a step relationship?"

"I've discussed it with Juliette, and she's OK with not having any say in how our baby is raised; I'm not sure a guy would deal well with that."

I shrugged, "I think it just means finding the right guy. You do have a nice enticement!"

Bianca laughed, "Two for the price of one, as it were?"

"Yes."

"YOU resisted that offer."

I nodded, "I did because, in my mind, a monogamous relationship was the correct path. I'm positive I made the right choice despite what happened."

"Not to be indelicate, but after?"

"I have no idea," I replied. "Keiko made a point that I should find someone to spend my life with, but I am not ready to think about that, and I don't know when I will be. She wanted me to promise, but I only promised to do what was in my best interests and those of my son or daughter and to listen to advice from you and Jack."

"On that, I have a potentially touchy question — a New Year's Eve party?"

"I have no objection if you want to plan one," I replied. "Remember what I said about the house — treat it as if it were yours. You don't need my permission."

"I know, but…"

"Let me worry about Keiko, please."

"I worry about you," Bianca replied. "For what I hope are obvious reasons."

"We love each other, and we're having a baby together."

"Yes. I think I'll plan something for New Year's Eve. Our housemates, the boys, Violet, and then each of us invites one or two others."

"I think that's OK," I replied.

"How long is your mom staying?"

"I think it depends," I replied. "At least until the 27th because we're having dinner with my aunt and uncle on the 26th."

"At the house?"

"Yes. I didn't want to go out because of Keiko. I spoke to my uncle, and one of his friends is a chef who'll come here and prepare a meal, bringing all the ingredients. That way, if Keiko is able, she could join us. If not, I'm still there for her."

"I honestly don't know how you do it."

"I don't either, but I have to do it for Keiko."

A few minutes later, we arrived at Loyola, and about ten minutes after I'd parked, we were in an exam room waiting for Doctor Wisniewski. A nurse had taken Bianca's vitals, drawn blood, and had her urinate into a cup, and now we were sitting alone.

"Good morning!" Doctor Wisniewski said, coming into the exam room.

"Good morning," Bianca replied.

"How are we feeling this morning, Mom-to-be?"

"Good," Bianca said. "Well, other than my clothes not fitting!"

"It'll get worse before it gets better! If you'd get onto the exam table, please, I'll examine you, then perform an ultrasound."

Just over five minutes later, Doctor Wisniewski pronounced everything looked good, then set up the ultrasound.

"If I can determine your baby's sex, do you want to know?"

"Yes, please," Bianca replied.

"OK! Let's see what we have!"

She put gel on Bianca's stomach and then moved the wand around, using the controls on the machine to take measurements.

"Everything looks good," she said as she pressed a button to print the image. "What names?"

"Sofia Angélica or Nicolás Santiago," Bianca replied.

Doctor Wisniewski nodded and moved the trackball to a spot on the screen.

"Meet Sofia Angélica!" Doctor Wisniewski declared. "She's not shy at all!"

Bianca and I both laughed because our daughter had her legs apart, and it was very obvious she was a girl.

"When we're at the mall to pick up Keiko's present, we should stop in a sporting goods store," I said.

"Why?" Bianca asked.

"So I can buy my shotgun!" I chuckled.

Both Doctor Wisniewski and Bianca laughed.

"I can't imagine you ever doing anything like that!" Bianca said.

"You're right, of course, but where I'm from, Dads with shotguns were a constant joke amongst all the guys at school!"

"Where is that, if I may ask," Doctor Wisniewski inquired.

"Goshen, Ohio, which is about forty minutes east of Cincinnati."

"I'm from Hamilton, originally, but came to Chicago for college and medical school."

"Small world," I observed.

"Very! Bianca, we'll see you again in February. Obviously, if there are any concerns at all, please call."

"Thank you, Doctor," Bianca said,

"Thanks, Doctor," I added.

She left, and when Bianca was dressed, we left the exam room. We stopped at the reception desk so Bianca could schedule her appointment, then left the medical building.

"Are you happy?" Bianca asked after we got into the car.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I thought maybe you wanted a boy."

"I'm perfectly happy with a girl," I replied. "Besides, Heather will need friends!"

We headed straight to Woodfield Mall in Schaumburg to pick up Keiko's present, then drove back to Rogers Park to do our weekly shopping and stop at the dry cleaners. When we arrived home, Nurse Maria was at the house checking on Keiko. I had spoken to Horizon Hospice on Friday and made the necessary arrangements, including four visits per day instead of the current two, starting on Monday. That meant two additional nurses — Kelly and Brooke — would assist Jennifer and Maria.

"How is the baby?" Keiko asked once Bianca and I had put away the groceries.

"Just fine," I replied. "I have a picture of Sofía Angélica."

"A girl?!"

"A girl."

I handed Keiko the picture, and she smiled.

"This may sound weird, but she's beautiful."

I nodded, "I agree! How are you?"

"About the same. My blood oxygen is 90%, and I'm tired, but that's pretty much all the time now."

"What can I do for you?"

"Carry me upstairs so we I can nap in your arms and make love. It might be the last time."

I nodded, scoped her in my arms, and carried her upstairs.

_December 11, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

On Sunday, the boys arrived just before the noon kickoff of the Bears away game against the Vikings. I'd called Stuart, but he was on shift, and I'd left a message for Tom but hadn't heard back from him. When Dustin arrived, he brought bad but not unexpected news.

"Tom and Maria are separated," he said when I mentioned Tom hadn't called me back. "He's not living in the house."

"That sucks. What happened?"

"If Stuart knows, he's not saying. I haven't been able to get hold of Tom for two weeks, which is why I asked Stuart. How is Keiko?"

"Using oxygen by mask. She's resting so she can watch the Bears with us. Please don't take notice of me having to carry her to the basement TV room."

"Should I read into that what I think I should?"

"Yes."

"Fuck, man."

"Yeah."

The temperature outside was just above freezing, so our plan for the day was pizza rather than grilling, and it would be delivered between games. Everyone went to the basement where Bianca had the projection TV on and tuned to the game, and I carried Keiko downstairs and settled her in a rocking chair Kristy had purchased, then sat on the couch near her.

The game didn't start well for the Bears, with the Vikings kicking two field goals in the first eight minutes. Things got significantly better from there, with the Bears scoring a touchdown and kicking a field goal less than three minutes apart. The first period ended with the Bears ahead 10–6, and a second-period field goal gave the Bears a 13–6 halftime lead.

The second half was a defensive struggle, with only two scores — a touchdown for the Vikings in the third period and a field goal for the Bears in the fourth. That gave the Bears a solid 19—13 victory, taking them to 7–8 on the season. They wouldn't make the playoffs, but they certainly were improving. The consensus was that in two years, they'd contend for the Super Bowl.

The pizza was delivered about ten minutes after the game ended, and all of us ate our fill, though Keiko ate beef broth rather than pizza. When we finished eating, I carried her to the hospital bed in the Japanese room for her nap, then returned to the basement to watch the Cardinals defeat the Raiders 34–24. When the game ended, our friends left, and I went to the Japanese room to spend the evening with Keiko.

I took a brief break to call Rich to ensure my currency trade had been executed, which it had, and I asked him to put in a limit sell order at 0.900, which, given my average cost, would result in around 5% profit. He confirmed the order was in, and I returned to the Japanese room. We spent another hour before I carried Keiko up to bed, knowing that any day, that would no longer be possible.

_December 12, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

On Monday, once my morning research work was completed, I began a year-end review of my portfolio. I closed out my positions in International Rectifier, Bally Manufacturing, and Wieboldt stores and used the proceeds, plus some available cash, to buy shares in Gulf Oil and Texaco on the basis of potential acquisitions and a proxy fight for Gulf Oil by T. Boone Pickens, a corporate raider who owned Mesa Petroleum.

I also shorted Continental Illinois, along with the five S&Ls with the worst loan performance rating and biggest exposure. Those shorts would likely need to be held for a year, or even longer, but being in first meant that when the collapse Pete was predicting occurred, I'd make a significant amount of money.

On a far more positive note, I bought additional shares in Apple, and rebalanced my treasury holdings to ensure I had sufficient cash on hand to make the required pension payments. With the remaining cash, I bought shares in Hawaiian Airlines, and all my remaining available cash went to futures index options on the Nikkei 225.

I ran a preliminary total gain report, and based on the trades in the AUD and the expected returns on the long position I'd taken, together with the current market values, my gains for the year were just under 37%. I checked the FX overall return, and it was just over 31%, with Mr. Matheson at 30%. My fund pulled the overall FX desk up that extra percentage point. I was still neck-and-neck with Noel Spurgeon, and it could go either way, though I was basically locked into my year-end positions except for the limit sell orders on AUD.

The big challenge for me would be in 1984 when our economic and stock market models showed a stagnant or possibly declining market. How I did under those conditions would tell the tale — if I could beat the street and earn positive gains in a down market, I'd have a real shot at following in Noel Spurgeon's and Murray Matheson's footsteps.

The final thing I did before lunch was call to schedule my Series 30 licensure course. Fortunately, this one was offered in the Loop on Saturday afternoons. That would make for long days with my finance class in the morning, but having that license was absolutely necessary if I was going to move up the ladder.