Chapter 18: The Second Test

September 19, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

“How was your first week at the Fire Academy?” I asked Tom when I arrived at his place late on Saturday morning.

“8:00am to 4:00pm, with an emphasis on physical training, and classes on the history and organization of the CFD. Actual training on fighting fires and using equipment doesn’t start for a few weeks, and we’ll also be doing basic first aid training; my full Paramedic certification won’t come until I complete the paramedic course after the firefighting course. And when we’re done, a nine-month probationary period.”

“And?”

Tom laughed, “I’ll make it and so will Stuart. Neither Stuart nor I will fall out because of physical fitness or academic failure. Most of the guys in the class really didn’t have much chance of going to college, while Stuart and I both could have gone. And you know the kind of shape we’re in. And neither of us is the type to let them mess with our heads.”

Maria, Teresa, Dustin, Stuart, and Annette showed up over the next fifteen minutes and we headed for Washington Park, which was near the University of Chicago, to have a barbecue.

“Your studio is somewhere around here, right?” I asked as we spread our picnic blankets.

“About six blocks east,” Dustin replied. “And my apartment is upstairs above the studio.”

“Do you develop the pictures there?”

“Yes. I have a dark room as well as the studio on the first floor. The upstairs is basically an efficiency apartment. I’ll probably get a bigger place in the next year and then sub-let the studio.”

“Business is good?”

“Good enough. I have a wedding at 4:00pm, but it’s in the UofC Chapel, so I’ll leave around 3:10pm so I can get home, change, grab my stuff, then walk to the Chapel. The reception is about two blocks away. Monday and Tuesday I’m doing a shoot for an architecture magazine about a house which has been renovated. I did the ‘before’ shots about six weeks ago. The ones on Monday and Tuesday are the ‘after’ shots.”

We finished laying out the blankets and helped the girls unpack the picnic baskets while Tom and Stuart got the portable grill going. We had a great lunch of brats, chips and soft drinks, and after we ate, we found another group to play touch football with. Dustin left partway through the game, but the rest of us stayed until 6:00pm, when we headed to Connie’s Pizza for dinner. After Pizza, we went to see Escape from New York, which the guys enjoyed but the girls merely tolerated.

The only downside of the entire day was the fact Teresa couldn’t have the car. She and Maria dropped me at my apartment just before midnight, and after a nice kiss, I went up to my apartment where I showered and went to bed.

September 23, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

“Will you ask me out again?” Rachel requested at lunch on Wednesday.

“I will, but I have to ask where you think this is leading?”

“Because of our difference in religion?”

“Yes.”

“And if it doesn’t lead to bed, you aren’t interested?”

“That is not what I meant,” I protested in as gentle a voice as I could muster. “I told you I respect your personal decision on that. My only concern is when you apply those standards to others and look down on them for not keeping them.”

“You think I look down on you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” she replied.

“But more importantly, I’m not going to wake up one day and suddenly believe in God and want to start going to church. If you’re hoping that’s the case, you’ll be disappointed. We can be friends, but that’s it, unless you’re comfortable with me being an atheist. Well, assuming you aren’t interested in just fooling around, which I know you aren’t.”

“I don’t want to debate it now, but I simply don’t understand how you can be so casual about something so important.”

“Not to start a debate, but that’s because I don’t place the same importance on it as you do. I guess I’m curious why you’re interested in me instead of some guy from your church?”

“Because you’re sweet, ambitious, and nice looking.”

“And there’s nobody like that at your church? You wouldn’t have the same struggle.”

Rachel shook her head, “You would think so, right? But there aren’t a lot of guys in the right age group. Kids move away for work or college or just stop coming to church. Mostly they don’t start attending regularly again until they’re married. And quite a few of them have the same attitude you do about the teachings about sex and birth control.”

“And the rumors about Catholic girls who go away to college?” I asked with a smirk.

“I have no idea!”

“And no guys you knew in High School?” I asked.

“You’re pushing me away pretty hard.”

“I’m just trying to figure out why a devout Catholic girl is so interested in an atheist guy.”

“Because I think you have serious potential for the future, and you’re determined to get it. According to my uncle, Mr. Matheson thinks you’ll make it, too.”

“That’s good to know,” I replied. “I need to talk to him in about a week about the studying I’m doing about options and futures. Some of it is really complicated, but I mostly have it down. That said, it’s two years before I can even have a chance to move into the business side.”

“Which is before you’d graduate college, if you had gone to school.”

“True. Also, and this is short-term, starting next week I’m going to be putting in three hours of overtime each day to prepare for the move to the new offices.”

“That’s going to kind of put a crimp in your social life.”

It certainly was, and meant I wouldn’t be able to see Gudia or have dinner with Lily. I’d let Gudia know the previous Friday that the next Friday would be our last date until after Spurgeon Capital’s move was completed. I’d also told Lily that we wouldn’t be able to have our dinners. Both girls had been disappointed, but also somewhat understanding.

“I know, but I’m getting thirty hours, or more, of time-and-a-half over the next couple of weeks which is nothing to sneeze at! And that doesn’t count the crazy hours I’ll put in over Columbus Day weekend, either. How about we go to dinner tomorrow night?”

“I’d like that.”

We finished our lunch and headed back into the building. As I walked past his office, Mr. Nelson called to me and asked me if I could meet him at the Hancock Building at 6:00am for a tour so I would know what the space looked like. I agreed, then headed to the mailroom. When the workday ended, I hurriedly left the building and headed home for my usual Wednesday dinner with Lily.

Lily and I cooked together, which was fun, and had a nice meal, and an even nicer make-out session, and I was very disappointed when she had to go back to the house so that her parents wouldn’t discover our little secret. I went to bed early because I had to be up early and get to the Hancock Center at 6:00am.

September 24, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

“Morning, Kane,” Mr. Nelson said when I met him in the plaza in front of the Hancock Center at 5:55am.”

“Good morning, Mr. Nelson!” I replied.

He turned and I followed him. We went through the ‘after hours’ doors, he showed a building ID to the guard who asked me for my driver’s license, and once we were checked in, I followed Mr. Nelson to the elevators and he pushed the button for the 30th floor.

“We’ll have three floors here,” he said. “30, 31, and 32.”

“Are we getting a third person?” I asked.

Mr. Nelson laughed, “That’s a good one, Kane! I put a third person in next year’s budget request, and I’ll make a strong case that our expansion requires it. Until that’s approved and we get someone, we’ll just have to bust our asses even more.”

“What about maintenance and security?”

“Security is just a matter of improving our system and I get to install a brand-new, state-of-the-art system so we’ll be OK with current staff. Maintenance is the same problem as the mailroom, though I have some leeway there because I have money in my budget for outside contractors.”

“How does that even make sense?”

“We cost money and don’t generate any income.”

“But the business can’t run without us! If we don’t do our jobs, nobody can make any money!”

Mr. Nelson laughed, “Quite true, and quite irrelevant.”

“How so?”

“Mr. Spurgeon doesn’t see it that way. We lose a lot of good people because he doesn’t pay support staff enough.”

“Should you be telling me this?”

Mr. Nelson laughed and nodded, “Yes, because you have a plan and you don’t care about a low salary now. Well, you care, but not such that you’ll quit. You want Nick’s job and the significant bump in compensation and better benefits. And then you want to be Matheson’s assistant. And you want those things more than you want more money immediately, which you could get, even with the little bit of experience you have at this point.”

“I’m pretty transparent about what I want.”

“That ambition is good, Kane, just don’t overreach. Grasp one rung at a time and when you’re steady, then grasp the next one.”

The elevator dinged and we walked into what would be the new reception area for Spurgeon Capital. The 30th floor was mostly conference and meeting rooms, as well as offices for support staff and some junior staff. The mailroom was larger, and had sufficient space for a third person, and was conveniently located right next to the freight elevators. Our break room was a bit larger, as was our bathroom, which had a proper shower and five lockers.

When we finished on 30, we went up to 31 which was configured for offices, and then 32, which was configured with much bigger offices, including Mr. Spurgeon’s office which occupied a corner and had a tremendous view of Lake Michigan. I didn’t see anything that would hinder our rounds, but covering three floors was going to be tough. Fortunately, Harry was just as focused as I was, and we’d get it done.

“What are you thinking?” Mr. Nelson asked.

“That three floors is going to be tough, though with all the important offices on 31 and 32, we can do our regular rounds and catch 30 as we have time. Can we get away with once each day for the support staff? They don’t get nearly as much time-critical mail or deliveries, and if we just deliver in the afternoons, as we have time, I think it’ll work.”

He rubbed his chin for a moment, then said, “That’s not a bad idea. With the increased number of traders, rounds are going to take longer anyway, and that would help. We’ll try it and see if anyone complains. You seem like a good problem solver. Bring me ideas when you have them. Even if we can’t implement them, I want to hear them.”

“Yes, Boss!” I replied.

We walked to the elevators, rode down to the lobby, then walked south on Michigan Avenue to the old offices. It was before 8:00am, but Mr. Nelson had me clock in and signed my timecard to show that my start time was actually 6:00am. I got started on my tasks and Nick and Harry arrived a few minutes later. The rest of the day went as my days typically did, including my morning and afternoon rounds, lunch with Rachel, and dealing with a few special requests.

I met Rachel in the lobby just after 5:00pm, and we headed to Greek Town to have dinner at the Parthenon restaurant. The food was excellent and not all that expensive, though we did go ‘Dutch’ as was our norm. It was a nice evening, and we managed to avoid talking about religion the entire time. After dinner we walked back into the Loop and after Rachel boarded her train at LaSalle Street Station, I headed home.

September 25, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday morning, I decided to talk to Mr. Matheson because I felt I was ready to answer his questions about the second study guide. I didn’t want to put it off until after the move, and I wasn’t going to have much time to study in the coming weeks. When I arrived at the office, I clocked in and got permission from Mr. Nelson to talk to Mr. Matheson, with the caveat of not interfering with my normal duties. I called and arranged to see him immediately following my afternoon rounds.

The morning was usual, and I had lunch with Rachel, where once again we managed to avoid talking about religion. I truly wondered how long that could continue because I simply didn’t see her walking away from her church. And even if she did, there was the chance she’d want to return, and that would make the situation even worse. After lunch, I completed my usual tasks, then went to see Mr. Matheson.

“Tell, me, Kane, what the difference between a ‘base’ currency and a ‘quote’ currency is.”

“Foreign exchange is always done in pairs of currencies, for example, the US Dollar versus the British Pound Sterling, or the Japanese Yen versus the Swiss Franc. When you trade, the ‘base’ currency is the one you are selling and the ‘quote’ currency is the one you are buying.”

“And the ‘spread’?”

“The difference between the ‘ask’ and ‘bid’ prices. Money can be made by arbitraging the ‘bid’ and ‘ask’ prices on different exchanges, in addition to actual movement of the currencies.”

“What’s a ‘pip’?”

“A change in value of a currency in the fourth decimal point — a hundredth of a cent.”

“What are the standard contract sizes?”

“1,000 units, or a ‘micro’ lot; 10,000 units, or a ‘mini’ lot; 100,000 units or a ‘standard’ lot.”

“If I buy a commodity for future delivery, say, corn, how do I avoid delivery?”

“When you buy, you could buy a cash-settled option which has no delivery mechanism, or you close out the position before the contract is due.”

“If I buy a soft commodity, what is the ‘tick’ size?”

“It depends on the commodity. For sugar it’s the same hundredth of a cent; for cocoa it’s a buck.”

“What is the ‘triple witching hour’?”

“The last hour of trading on the last Friday of each quarter when futures and options contracts expire. Trading can be highly volatile. With commodities, it’s the time when the cash price and the futures price attempt to converge, which causes volatility.”

“Back to currency markets — what does ‘the trend is your friend’ mean?”

“That you’re more interested in the charted prices over some timeframe rather than the actual current price. You look for a series of higher highs and lows to signify an upward trend, and a series of lower highs and lows to signify a downward trend.”

“Where did you get that?” he asked. “It’s not in the book which only covers technical aspects.”

“The Wall Street Journal,” I replied. “I read it every night either before or after I study.”

“What’s the price of an ounce of silver?”

I’d been tracking gold and silver on my uncle’s advice, as they were good indicators of what the markets thought about the future of the stock market and the economy.

“About $25.25,” I replied. “I don’t recall the exact quote from yesterday’s journal, and that would have been Wednesday’s closing price.”

“And the Dollar/Pound exchange rate?”

I’d memorized that one and the Japanese Yen, just in case, and memorizing that was going to pay off.

“A Pound Sterling is about $1.28.”

“Not bad, Kid. Now you get to learn the regulations. But I want you to do something else. Make yourself a portfolio — stocks, bonds, futures, currencies, and track it on paper. No real investing. Just make your trades on paper, track your progress, and see how you do. Do that for the next three months, and bring the results to me in January. Don’t fudge and don’t cheat. And don’t be surprised if you lose your shirt. What I want to see, when you bring it to me, is charts and trades. We’ll talk about what you did right and what you did wrong. And you’ll do a LOT wrong.”

“So why not just tell me?”

Mr. Matheson laughed, “Learning to trade by being told how to do it is like learning to fuck by being told how to do it. The only way to REALLY learn is to do it! Trial and error, and you figure out what works and doesn’t work for you.”

He had a point — when Bev and I had spent that time in the barn for our first time, we knew the basic mechanics, but it took some trial and error to figure out what worked for us. Once I’d learned by experimenting with her, it was easier with Charlotte, Gudia, and Teresa, though I also knew from my short time with Charlotte, I’d barely scratched the surface of what was possible.

“Got it,” I replied.

He nodded and handed me a cardboard case with two thick binders.

“Learn this stuff, and it’ll keep you out of jail and keep you from being fined. Mr. Spurgeon doesn’t tolerate ANY violations, which I think you know from what happened with that idiot Jack Gilham. I’m not kidding. And once you get your license, you can ONLY trade through a monitored account. Don’t try to get cute because you’ll get caught. Guys with way more experience than you’ll have are caught by the SEC and the CFTC trying to be cute.”

Which made me wonder about his secret dealings with Norman Monroe, and what he was doing ‘off book’ that made Mr. Nelson suspicious.

“Got it,” I replied, remaining stoic.

“I won’t quiz you on the regs — your license exam will take care of that if it gets to that point. We’ll just look at the shitshow that your practice trading will be.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “I need to get back to work.”

“Take the supervisor job when it’s offered in the Spring,” he said. “You’ll have enough money then to trade on your own account, in micro lots. We’ll see how you do at that point.”

“Yes, Sir!”

I left his office and went back to the mailroom. I put the heavy two-binder set on my shelf. I wasn’t going to be able to take it home on my bike, which meant I’d need to take the L on Monday so I could take it home with me. There wasn’t a rush, because I wasn’t going to have much time to study in the coming weeks. After work, I biked home, showered, then met Gudia at our usual diner in Bridgeport.