Chapter 14

I was practicing the martial arts. To be more specific, I was going through sword exercises with my Kendo instructor. Besides sword, I was also learning the staff or Bo. To me, Bo training was the more useful, as I did not really see any need for sword work to tell you the truth. We finally ground to a halt. I was sweating but I felt good. I had really been stretched to the limit, and a bit beyond, with this instructor.

He then critiqued me, and he really laid into my failings!

"Tom, you are not practicing your speed. You do not flow with the moves as you should. While you seem to have the talent and ability, you are not pressing yourself to do your best.

"I had hoped to advance you to your next rank, soon, but you have not shown any improvements in the necessary speed or discipline. You have a good grasp of the basics, and learn each Kata as I teach it, but you no longer seem to have the drive you once did," Master Sune told me.

He went on telling me that I had the natural ability to be very good, but I was wasting his and my time, right now. He suggested I take some time off, and think about what I wanted to do.

I sighed as I put my sword in my case. I picked up my staff, or BO, and carried them both out to my new truck. Yes, I had broken down and replaced my Volkswagen. I donated the fastback to the Salvation Army.

My instructor was correct. I did not devote as much time to practicing as I used to. Instead, I was spending more and more time going into the past, and watching scenes from the past.

I had gone back to the early part of the 1900's recently, and bought stock in several companies. Stocks were cheap back then, and I still had gold. I bought into AT&T, and IBM when it was just starting out, as well as a few other stocks in other companies that I had researched. I 'aged' the stock certificates the same way I had 'found' the coins. Worked like a charm.

The result was I was now much richer than I had been, just a few weeks ago! While I tried to keep a low profile, several organizations knew, and were gleefully holding out there hands for 'their share' of my windfall. Damned "Infernal Revenue Stealers", anyway! Infernal. I liked that. Seemed devilish. Just the way the governments, all of them, want your money.

I went from having the few paltry million I had managed to make off my coins, to having well over sixty million in the bank! Well, on paper anyway. It is amazing how much money you can make in a hundred years, if you don't touch it, and if it had been invested correctly!

I was tempted to move to a state that did not have a state income tax. I could keep the farm, but live somewhere else. No, I was attached to this place. I could not see selling it or living somewhere else. This was the family homestead, and if I married, I would bring my wife here. At least, I thought I would.

I was still getting used to being a very wealthy man. Somehow, groups of people found out, and my phone had been constantly rung with requests for donations. I had it changed to an unlisted number.

Then I also received a ton of mail, asking for donations, and requests from people who wanted money for personal purposes. I even got several threats. It seemed my time was taken up with sorting through mail just to get to someone or something I knew! I talked to the postmaster, but he told they were 'required by law' to deliver everything, even the junk mail.

As much as I hated too, I had to leave my home. People were showing up at all hours, wanting to hit me up for money. How the hell did they find out? Did the government sell this information? Oh, I knew they didn't. There were people who watched movements of stock, and stock purchases were a matter of public record. So that was one way. I was now holder on record for certain stocks.

My 'inheritance' had made news in several circles. So that was another way. Not even a day after the news was out, I was being bombarded with calls for money. So I did the only thing I could. I asked mister Hoffly to watch over the place, again, and I left.

Ok, I admit it, I was driven out of my own home!

So that is how I wound up moving to a gated community outside of Boston. I paid a surprising amount of money for a house which I knew was nowhere near worth what I had paid for it. Prestige is what I figured I was paying for... and privacy, and security.

There was an additional monthly fee for security guards, trash, snow removal, landscape upkeep, and other odds and ends. Altogether that totaled another twelve hundred a month, but they figured you could afford it, if you bought into this place. I shrugged, and wrote them a check for a year, and asked to be notified when it was time to pay again.

The house I bought was set on five acres in the back section of the community. That was another reason I had paid so much: access to the lake. That I was close to the man-made lake this community had built, the amount of land that went with the house, and its relative privacy (it was set in and among a nice stand of trees); all these contributed to the final price of the place.

I sent my half sister my new address, and telephone number. Now that I had family, of sorts, I was not going to loose contact with her! Ok... I was needy and grasping, but I had lost both parents at a relatively young age.

Debra had been thrilled for my good fortune. I asked her if she would like some of my good fortune, and she refused. I was surprised, but also gratified. It meant she liked me for me, and not my money. At least, I hoped she liked me. I decided I was going to get her to accept some money anyway, somehow.

When I had moved into this place, it was mid summer. I hired a decorator to come in and furnish and make it homey for a single man. I also went into Boston proper and rented a small office and started a philanthropic foundation. I was going to help out when and where I could. Do you have any idea how fast money makes money?

I hired a small staff: a manager, a disbursement officer, and a couple research people. I got computers installed, and set up a budget. I made sure that the manager and disbursement officer cosigned on checks. Anything over a certain amount, had to get my signature, also.

I settled down in my new occupation for a while, but that wanderlust soon had its grip on me, again. I was twitching to get into the past. I still practiced watching the past, and I was getting better at storing power.

It was no effort for me to go a hundred years into the past, and use my stored power to return. However, I could not seem to store enough power to go over one hundred years. There seemed to be some sort of limiting factor operating. One hundred years seemed to be my max.

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