EPISODE 4
Mike caught the bus home after we had finished cleaning up. He
was going to talk to his dad when he got home that night and ask him
if he would teach us how to become rich. Mike promised to call as soon
as he had talked to his dad, even if it was late.
The phone rang at 8:30 p.m.
“Okay,” I said. “Next Saturday.” I put the phone down. Mike’s dad
had agreed to meet with us.
On Saturday I caught the 7:30 a.m. bus to the poor side of town.
The Lessons Begin
Mike and I met with his dad that morning at eight o’clock. He
was already busy, having been at work for more than an hour. His
construction supervisor was just leaving in his pickup truck as I walked
up to his simple, small, and tidy home. Mike met me at the door.
“Dad’s on the phone, and he said to wait on the back porch,”
Mike said as he opened the door.
The old wooden floor creaked as I stepped across the threshold of
the aging house. There was a cheap mat just inside the door. The mat
was there to hide the years of wear from countless footsteps that the
floor had supported. Although clean, it needed to be replaced.
I felt claustrophobic as I entered the narrow living room that
was filled with old musty overstuffed furniture that today would be
collectors’ items. Sitting on the couch were two women, both a little
older than my mom. Across from the women sat a man in workman’s
clothes. He wore khaki slacks and a khaki shirt, neatly pressed but
without starch, and polished work boots. He was about 10 years older
than my dad. They smiled as Mike and I walked past them toward the
back porch. I smiled back shyly.
“Who are those people?” I asked.
“Oh, they work for my dad. The older man runs his warehouses,
and the women are the managers of the restaurants. And as you
arrived, you saw the construction supervisor who is working on a
road project about 50 miles from here. His other supervisor, who is
building a track of houses, left before you got here.”
“Does this go on all the time?” I asked.
“Not always, but quite often,” said Mike, smiling as he pulled up
a chair to sit down next to me.
“I asked my dad if he would teach us to make money,” Mike said.
“Oh, and what did he say to that?” I asked with cautious curiosity.
“Well, he had a funny look on his face at first, and then he said he
would make us an offer.”
“Oh,” I said, rocking my chair back against the wall. I sat there
perched on two rear legs of the chair.
Mike did the same thing.
“Do you know what the offer is?” I asked.
“No, but we’ll soon find out.”
Suddenly, Mike’s dad burst through the rickety screen door and
onto the porch. Mike and I jumped to our feet, not out of respect,
but because we were startled.
“Ready, boys?” he asked as he pulled up a chair to sit down with us.
We nodded our heads as we pulled our chairs away from the wall
to sit in front of him.
He was a big man, about six feet tall and 200 pounds. My dad was
taller, about the same weight, and five years older than Mike’s dad. They
sort of looked alike, though not of the same ethnic makeup. Maybe their
energy was similar.
“Mike says you want to learn to make money? Is that correct, Robert?”
I nodded my head quickly, but with a little trepidation. He had
a lot of power behind his words and smile.
“Okay, here’s my offer. I’ll teach you, but I won’t do it classroomstyle.
You work for me, I’ll teach you. You don’t work for me, I won’t
teach you. I can teach you faster if you work, and I’m wasting my time if
you just want to sit and listen like you do in school. That’s my offer. Take
it or leave it.”
“Ah, may I ask a question first?” I asked.
“No. Take it or leave it. I’ve got too much work to do to waste
my time. If you can’t make up your mind decisively, then you’ll never
learn to make money anyway. Opportunities come and go. Being able
to know when to make quick decisions is an important skill. You have
the opportunity that you asked for. School is beginning, or it’s over in
10 seconds,” Mike’s dad said with a teasing smile.
“Take it,” I said.
“Take it,” said Mike.
“Good,” said Mike’s dad. “Mrs. Martin will be by in 10 minutes.
After I’m through with her, you’ll ride with her to my superette and
you can begin working. I’ll pay you 10 cents an hour, and you’ll work
three hours every Saturday.”
“But I have a softball game today,” I said.
Mike’s dad lowered his voice to a stern tone. “Take it, or leave it,”
he said.
“I’ll take it,” I replied, choosing to work and learn instead of playing.
Thirty Cents Later