Chapter 2

I called 'Betty' to let him know I was OK and told him I'd buy him a beer tonight and explain. Finally counting the money in the car I realize that with the original $100, the old man gave me $800 total. Damn, I went home to shower and change. When I went to take a shower, I looked at the ring. I swear it is bigger than when the old man had it on. I have had day-dreams before like most people; winning the lottery, finding out I'm Harry Potter, and even on odd days being captured by aliens to save their planet. I just couldn't get the nagging feeling out of my head that maybe the old man wasn't crazy. Maybe he was telling the truth. Well, I might as well treat it as real for a few days. Just see what happens.

After my shower I head down to the bar to meet up with Mike. Mike and I have been friends for years. We met at the local internet café sometime and we just hit it off right away. Mike is a big old redneck. He has a belt buckle the size of a dinner plate from when he was in the rodeo as a teen. He works as an auto mechanic and isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Given all this, I wonder how we seem to be best friends. A computer programmer and a mechanic, you don't usually see much common ground there. But it works for us. Anyways, since I was going to treat this as real, I didn't tell him about my new 'powers.' I just told him that the old man was crazy and thought I was the reincarnation of his son.

"Well shit, I would have played it up to see what you could have gotten out of it." He says to me over a beer.

"Well, yea, I did get a hundred bucks. I just would have felt bad in the morning if I pushed it further" was my reply.

"Yea, you are always the straight one."

"Yea and you always are the fag." This leads into a few good natured slugs on the shoulder. Of course as soon as the beer got threatened, we stopped horsing around. A little later, I went home for the night. Usually when I have something on my mind, I can't seem to sleep. Tonight I dropped off right away. I didn't take off the ring.

Saturday I wake up about 9am feeling great. It feels like I got the best night's sleep I've had in a long while. Well, except one thing, there was this very quiet buzzing at the back of my head. It wasn't bad or annoying, just there. The buzzing eventually went away. Anyway, I putter around in the kitchen for a while and turn on the TV while I eat my eggs. I love Saturday morning cartoons; especially the classic Looney Toons. I guess I'm still just a kid at heart. Anyway, about 11 I get a call. I don't recognize the number on caller ID, the area code is from the city, and I don't know anyone in the city. Oh well, I answer it anyways.

"Hello my name is Lindsey. I am calling from Ring and Green. Am I speaking to Mr. Barker?" She starts.

"Yes, this is he. Ring and who?" I ask.

"Ring and Green is a law firm. A Mr. Timothy Randal died last night and we are the executors of his will. You are listed in the will as a beneficiary so we would like you to come down so we can fill out the paperwork and read you your part of the will."

The problem is I don't know any Tim Randal... Wait, Tom Reynolds, Tim Randal, coincidence? "Umm, OK, what's your address?"

Shit! If I am right, he died last night. No wonder he was having trouble breathing and looked tired. Well, I hope he was happy as he truly said. I put on my sport coat and tie and head into the city. I guess I should tell you, I live in California in the San Francisco bay area. I actually live about 40 minutes east of the city in one of the many suburbs. So when I said go to the city, I meant drive the 40 minutes or so into San Francisco.

I finally get there, and this place is huge. It reminds me of the mansion I was in yesterday. They must be a very successful law firm to afford that much wood. Well, I am glad I wore a jacket and tie. When I walk in the front, I notice something. When I get near someone, I hear the buzzing again, and it changes in feel. I guess the closest example I could give is pitch. I think about getting a doctor's appointment next Monday. Well, I walk up to the receptionist and I am directed to Mr. Ring's office. I guess he's one of the senior partners. He has a photograph and the picture was of Tom Reynolds. Damn, he died right after I left him. Mr. Ring reads my part of the will in lawyer-speech once then goes through the whole thing again in English.

"To make an already long story short," he says "Mr. Randal said he thought of you as the son he never had. For some reason, he was medically unable to father children after his accident when he was in his twenties. Because of this, he is leaving you three things, taxes already paid. First here is a check for $100 thousand dollars. He said it was to help you get started in a new life while not having to work. Second, he leaves you with his 1932 Ford roadster. Here are the keys, and if you leave me an address, I will have it delivered to your home or wherever you choose. He hoped you will have as much fun with it as he did. Third is this key to a safety deposit box. I don't know where the box is, he said you will find out later. I'm sorry; I can't help you on that one. The remainder of his assets were liquidated and distributed to a few others, but most was given to charities."

Wow, I see why he didn't care about a couple of hundred dollars. I thank him for his time and leave him my address. I'm just sort of numb. As I am about to leave, he says one more thing to me.