Chapter 7: The PAAK

The following day, it was raining hard when he went out to retrieve his papers. He cursed because the porch was flooded due to a broken gutter drainpipe, and the plastic bags did little to keep the papers dry. Nevertheless, he continued his morning ritual, reviewing his stocks and scanning the headlines for ... Huh?

Advanced Micro Devices exceeds earnings expectations and announces a 2:1 split.

He read the article quickly, learning the company closed at $16.75 per share with after-market trading up to $18.30. The split would take effect after the August 22 market closed for shareholders of record on August 1st. He already held 10,000 shares and sensed another lucrative option play. Setting aside the paper, he went to his room and booted up the Beast to check the early markets.

AMD opened at $21.50, creating a $4.75 gap. Overnight, his position rose by nearly $50,000. He checked the September Calls, made notes, and decided to rethink his strategy. With cash under $100K, he considered trading on margin, a risky move involving borrowing capital from the broker. If the stock dropped, a ‘margin call’ could force him to sell part of his portfolio. He looked at Kathy sleeping, smiled, kissed her head, and refilled his coffee. He planned to call Jeremiah later to discuss it.

Two hours before the market closed, he purchased:

1000 SEP 20 Calls at 5.25

1000 SEP 22.5 Calls at 3.75

After the split, he would have 2000 SEP 10 Calls and 2000 SEP 11.25 Calls, respectively. The play cost him $900,000, nearly all on margin.

“It’s not just your gutters, my love,” Kathy replied as he tried to salvage the soaked Saturday papers. She sipped her coffee and sat at the table with her bare feet tucked beneath her. “You need to get the roof inspected too.”

“I suppose you have a cousin who—”

“A cousin’s friend,” she replied with a smile. “Cousin Eddy works for a roofing contractor. I can call him to see if they will cut us a deal.”

“Yes, please,” he sighed, giving up on the paper mush on the table.

“Yes, please, what?” Ronnie asked with a yawn as she padded downstairs in her pajamas. She went straight to Mr. Coffee for a cup before joining them. Peter indicated the soggy newspapers. “Damn,” she remarked as he went to toss them into the recycle bin by the side door. “You’d think the little bastard could at least get them onto the porch when it’s raining.”

“They were on the porch,” Kathy replied. “But your gutters are broken and plugged up. I suggested checking the roof before replacing them in case the roof is too far gone. Better to replace both than tear off the roof next year and waste new gutters, ya know?”

Ronnie nodded as she seated herself with her toes on the chair seat. “Can you have them tear out that stupid wheelchair ramp in the kitchen?”

Peter poured a new cup and gazed at the remodeled floor before the long counter. “Yeah, good point,” he remarked as he took a sip and added more creamer. “Might as well pull the porch ramp out too. Then we can turn the carport back into a carport.”

“Why not build a real garage?” his sister asked. “It could connect to the new laundry room behind your man cave.”

He envisioned her suggestion and saw its merit. “Any other requests?”

“Yeah, I want a king-sized waterbed for my room,” she replied smoothly.

He turned and scowled at her. “Are you serious? A waterbed directly over my room?” he griped. “Where will the water go when you, Laney, and Becca pop the thing ‘bodysurfing’?”

Veronica glared at him—her cheeks red as Kathy laughed at the image. “They don’t pop, mister!” she retorted.

“I like the idea of body surfing,” Kathy grinned at him. “Maybe we should get a waterbed, too.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he remembered sex at her place. “That’s not a bad idea,” he nodded thoughtfully.

“What?” his sister retorted. “It was my idea!”

“And a good one, too, Ronni-kins,” Kathy replied, smiling at her with amusement.

“Besides,” Peter added, “How often will you sleep in it when you’ll be living in Eastern Washington for the next 12 years learning how to neuter cats?”

“You’ll be lucky I don’t neuter you ... A-hole,” she muttered as she stormed back up the stairs to her room.

“Ow Fuck!” he yelled after crashing into the pool’s edge at the end of his lane.

After a light breakfast, Kathy drove him to the community pool to try his new prosthetic flippers for the first time. They worked great. Too well, in fact. He raced across the 50-meter pool so fast he didn’t anticipate the wall and smashed into it. He flipped up his goggles and climbed out to inspect his stinging forearm.

“Are you okay, baby?” Kathy called from the other end, sitting with her feet in the water and her nose in a Gameboy.

“Yeah, just bruised it,” he grumbled.

“Dude!” Devon exclaimed from half a lane behind him. “You were freakin’ flying!”

Peter replaced his goggles and slipped back into the water, swimming back using the breaststroke and exerting his legs much less. He marveled at how fast he was moving with slight effort. This is awesome!

Later, after the session, they went to the hospital. Kathy stayed in the anteroom while he sat beside his mom for half an hour—holding her hand and talking to her. The nurse informed him that Veronica had been by earlier, and Janet had almost responded to her. He studied her sleeping face and felt she had more color in her cheeks, and she seemed to breathe easier than the last time. Overall, it was a good visit, and he left feeling she was doing better, keeping him in a good mood for the day.

The weather improved over the week, though many hoped the rain would continue, dampening the 4th of July celebrations and the predictable fires. Cousin Eddy showed up on Thursday, and Ronnie found the three of them on the roof when she got home from shopping. She climbed out of her red VW and gazed worriedly at her little brother, straddling the peak with his artificial feet. The Nikes didn’t provide much flexibility or articulation in the ball joints of his new ankles. Thus, he appeared to hold out his arms to help balance himself as he stepped along the roof. Kathy and Cousin Eddy seemed indifferent.

“Peter!” she yelled irritably from the ground. “Get off that roof before you fall and break your neck!”

“I’m fine,” he yelled back. “It’s just a bit awkward.”

“You’re waddling like a pregnant duck!” she retorted. “Is this what you want Mrs. ‘stick-up-her-butt’ to see when she drives by?”

Good point, he thought and carefully descended the ladder to the front yard.

“So, what’s the verdict?”

“Eddy checked county records, and it seems the roof hasn’t been altered since the house was built in ‘67,” he told her. “It’s in rough shape, so I’ll hire him to replace it with metal.”

“How much will that cost?” she asked as she shifted her Nordstrom bags.

He shrugged. “Three or four grand, no biggy.”

They glanced up when Kathy squealed loudly. They watched her dancing excitedly on the old tar shingles with her phone to her ear. She high-fived her cousin and followed him down the ladder. She squealed again as she skipped to her boyfriend and hugged the stuffing out of him.

“It’s here!” she cried with a wide grin. “My baby’s here!” She whirled on his sister, grabbed her arm, danced, and spun her around. “C’mon! Drop your stuff, Ronni-kins! I need a ride to the dealership!” She turned to her cousin, who regarded her with dubious curiosity. “Eddy, can you take the Datsun back to Uncle Carl? I got my baby!”

Veronica took several minutes to put her stuff away and contain the spun-up Native American girl. At the same time, Peter negotiated a verbal agreement with her cousin and provided him with a check to schedule the roofing job.

Half an hour later, the two Shipleys tried to maintain decorum as they watched Kathy dash through the car lot, her hair flowing behind her and her flip-flops slapping the soles of her feet. She ran up to the main office and disappeared inside.

When the midnight blue 1991 Camaro Z28 was pulled to the front of the dealership, a small gathering of personnel congratulated Kathy as she breathlessly walked around the car, trailing her fingers over every surface. Her expression was awestruck as she explored the interior and trunk. She popped the hood and gazed reverently at the 305 cubic-inch small block V8 engine that gleamed with 230 HP of promise. Peter climbed into the back seat, noting the crisp ‘new car’ smell as his sister took the front passenger’s place. Kathy sat behind the wheel, excited and proud as she familiarized herself with the console.

“Kittykat, this is a beautiful machine,” Veronica breathed as she ran her hand across the dash. “Is it a six-speed?”

“Five,” Kathy replied. “It uses a Porche fuel injector and has over 300 pounds of torque at 3,200 RPM.”

“Another manual?” Peter remarked from the back seat.

“Shut up!” his sister retorted.

“Automatics are for pussies,” the two girls chimed together and giggled as he rolled his eyes.

Kathy got her first speeding ticket on the way home.

Two days later, on Saturday the 7th, they received a call from the hospital that Janet was coming around and appeared coherent at times. The three of them rushed to see her and found the sickly woman sitting up in bed, propped up by pillows. She had an oxygen cannula in her nose and several IVs in both arms.

“She’s been asking about you,” the nurse told them in the anteroom as Peter and his sister donned their gowns and masks. Kathy remained in the changing room, her face to the glass window, as the siblings sat with their mom—one on either side to hold her hands. Both had pent-up emotions when they left her, and their tears flowed freely in the anteroom while they hugged tightly before including a teary Kathy.

On the drive home, Alan called them, unaware of the car’s somber atmosphere.

“What’s up Al,” Peter answered, “You’re on speaker.”

“Hey guys!” he replied cheerfully. “Dude! Guess who lit up the Gooney Board last night and was nearly censured by the moderators for his crude language?”