Chapter 3

Used to avoiding black cars out of respect for the hot Arizona sun, William let Ken pick out any Hugger on the lot except for a black one. Ken didn't care much about the color and went for the green one. William made sure that it was fully loaded with all the options.

Entering the office of the salesman, William handed over a plastic card and said, "I'll be paying for it with this."

"You're paying with a credit card?" asked the salesman staring at the small rectangle of plastic.

He was about to explain that a loan would give him a far better interest rate when William said, "It's a debit card."

Ken stared at William unable to believe that the kid could possibly pay cash for a Hugger. The salesman took the card and looked at the name on it. Concerned about a minor using plastic on such a large purchase, he said, "I'll need to see some identification."

From his back pocket, William pulled out his passport. He found it odd that people believed a passport much more than a driver's license or state identification card. Expecting the salesman to rush off to his manager, William handed over the passport and then said, "Here you go."

"I'll need to check with the manager," said the salesman looking at the passport and the debit card.

"Of course." William watched the salesman leave his office. Shaking his head, he said, "Ken, you might as well relax since this is going to take some time. Believe me when I say that getting a loan would take even longer."

It was almost thirty minutes before the salesman returned. Looking over at William with respect, he said, "The bank authorized the transaction."

"Of course it did. Now we have to negotiate the price," said William with a grin.

The smile on the salesman's face fell at the announcement. It suddenly occurred to him that he wasn't going to sell the car for the sticker price. Sitting down, he asked, "What price were you looking to get?"

"Before we begin negotiations, why don't you get the manager? I dislike negotiating through a middle man."

The salesman objected, "I can handle the negotiations."

Shaking his head, William said, "I'll make an offer. You'll tell me that you have to clear it with the manager. You'll come back with a counteroffer. If that isn't a middleman, then my name is Shirley Temple."

Knowing that he was defeated, the salesman left the office to get the manager. Once the two men returned, the negotiations began in earnest. William knew the fair price for the car and made sure that he received it. Ken watched the negotiations wide-eyed. He'd never seen anyone handle a car salesman with such ease.

"You've got to sign some papers. While you're doing that, we'll prep the car. You'll be able to drive off in it," said the salesman once they had agreed upon the price. He had never had such a difficult closing.

While William signed the papers completing the sale, Ken went out to tell the limousine driver that he was relieved from duty. Returning to the office carrying William's book bag, Ken considered what had happened to him over the past twenty-four hours. He'd been told he was getting let go from his job, he'd been ambushed in a bathroom with the offer of a new job, and he'd watched a kid pay cash for a car that cost more than he had earned the previous year. Later that afternoon, he was going to move into a suite that was larger than his current apartment. Nothing made sense to him.

Once the papers were signed, William pulled out his cell phone and called his insurance agent. It took him two minutes to get the car insured with Ken and Lisa as the official drivers. Putting away the cell phone, he turned to Ken and said, "That's it. Let's go."

"Where to?"

"The school," said William after checking his watch. It was already a little after noon and he had a one o'clock appointment with the professor who would be his thesis advisor. He wasn't looking forward to this meeting. It would be another instance of not being taken seriously because of his age, but he knew the collaboration with the professor would be beneficial in the long run.

William knocked on the door. Professor Johnston looked up from his desk and considered the person standing at the door. In a gruff voice, he said, "I'm busy. If you're looking for the bathroom, it's down the hall. The department office is around the corner."

Professor Johnston looked back down at his desk, dismissing William and turning his attention back to his work. William frowned at the obvious dismissal. Carrying his book bag, he went down the hall to the rest room. Once there, he put on his robe knowing that it would give him the credibility he required. Looking in the mirror, he said, "Just once I'd like to be accepted for what I am."

Returning to the office, William knocked on the door again. Professor Johnston looked up and saw the blue robe with white sleeves. Shocked that a graduate of the Druid College was knocking on his door, he asked, "What can I do for you?"

"I have a one o'clock appointment with you to discuss my doctoral research program," answered William.

Professor Johnston looked at William with a little more care and realized that it was the same kid he had just chased away. Embarrassed he gestured to a chair in his office and said, "Have a seat."

"Thank you," answered William moving over to the chair. Once seated, he said, "Two years ago I read your paper on economic models based on the analysis of households versus big business. I found the ideas rather intriguing although I'm convinced that a hybrid economic model that performs an analysis of both households and big business would be much more powerful."

"That echoes my own thinking on the matter," said Professor Johnston surprised by the young man's assessment of his work.

"Even in the short time that your work has been published, there have been some rather significant failures in its application," William said.

"I don't think they are that significant," Professor Johnston said in a rather defensive manner.

"I respectfully disagree."

"Why?"

"I'm convinced that speculators can invalidate all economic models by exploiting them to the point where they violate the constraints on which they are based."

Professor Johnston laughed and said, "So you buy into the old adage that an economic theory never survives its publication."

"Exactly. I'd like to pursue that topic as the subject of my dissertation," answered William.

"And you want to use my theory as the basis for your proof."

"Yes."

"Why my theory?" He wondered why the kid would want to work with him to invalidate his own theory.

"Because it is the best and most comprehensive theory of economic behavior that I've seen in the literature."

"What about Hoffman's theory?" Professor Johnston asked wanting to test the kids knowledge.

"You mean Holfman's theory, don't you?"

"You're right."

"It's trash. There are so many holes in it that you could drive a garbage truck through it."

He understood that the kid knew his stuff. He'd heard that Druid College graduates were incredibly smart, but he hadn't believed half of the stories about them. Doctorates achieved in two years, dozens of patents, and national awards in research seemed to be commonplace among them. Listening to William began to make him a believer. Sitting back in his chair, he asked, "So how do you plan to proceed?"

"I'll test your theory against historical records and then identify specific changes in economic behavior that began shortly after publication of your paper."

"You will? How do you expect to do that?"

"I've ordered a computer based on a chip designed by Dan Biggerstaff. It has a built-in random number generator and is designed for use in Monte Carlo simulations. I'll construct a program based on your theory and then, using historical data, find behaviors that explain what actually happened," answered William.

"And how long will all of this take you?" asked the professor. He figured that it would take at least a decade to accomplish all of that.

"Six months to acquire the data. Three months to write the program. Two years to run the simulations. I should be finished writing and defending in three years," answered William.

"I'll need a written proposal of your research."

William reached into his book bag and pulled out a simple binder. He handed it over to the professor and said, "Here it is."

"I'll say one thing - you're prepared. Were you ever a boy scout?" asked Professor Johnston flipping through the pages of the binder. He couldn't believe what he was reading. Never had he had such a comprehensive research proposal cross his desk. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he said, "I'll have to study this for a while. There's a lot of material covered in this proposal."

William stood and went to the door. Turning, he said, "I assume that we'll have a weekly meeting on this same day and time."

Waving William away, Professor Johnston started reading the proposal and said, "Yes, yes. Next week, same bat channel and same bat time."

Not catching the reference, William left the office and headed to the restroom to change out of his robe. There was no sense advertising his past. As he walked along, he ran into Doug. The young man looked at William and said, "It seems like every time I'm over in this part of the campus I run into you. We've got to stop meeting like this. People are likely to get suspicious."

"Right," answered William with a laugh.

Looking over the robe, Doug said, "I guess you're a graduate student."

"Yes, I am."

"Cool. So am I. Feel like getting something to drink over at the student center?" asked Doug.

Surprised by the indifference to the robe, William answered, "Sure, just let me change out of this robe."

"Why were you wearing it anyway?"

"I needed to get someone's attention," answered William.

"I guess that would work. You guys are in pretty high demand and there aren't that many graduates of the Druid College running around in this area."

Having reached the restroom, William said, "Wait here while I change."

Doug waited around in the hallway while William changed his clothes in the bathroom. As he leaned against the wall, Doug wondered what was the name of his young friend. He realized that it had to be William, since there weren't that many graduates of the Druid College who fit his description.

William came out of the restroom and said, "Let's go."

"That didn't take long."

William followed Doug to the student center. Once there, he grabbed an iced tea while Doug took a cup of coffee. Sitting down, Doug asked, "So do you think that Oliver Brown is the most important man in America?"