Chapter 4

When his alarm clock started buzzing in the morning, Franklin at first groaned at having his nice dream disturbed, until he realized that he had the cab out on overnight personal, and more importantly, Syd had come into his life yesterday! He thought back on the way meeting Syd's parents had gone so smoothly. They had been surprised at his refusal to partake of the wine, but he had passed it off as not wanting to drink while driving the company vehicle, and had in fact been such a convivial guest that his abstinence from drink was scarcely noted.

He found himself whistling happily in the shower, and then while reading his morning paper he smiled to himself at the article in the entertainment section on the regional whistling contest trials being held this weekend.

He had never seen or heard of national or international whistling contests before now, and had to believe that the article was in the paper on his stoop before he hopped into the shower. The coincidental universe once again seemed aimed or associated directly with him. He noted it, and let it pass. Staying unfocused about such random effects was second nature for him now, and he just smiled to himself and got on with it. If he had tried to demonstrate it to anyone, perhaps writing it down in a notebook, he would soon find himself wandering bearded and unwashed jobless and homeless muttering to himself, if not shut in a small windowless white room with the lock on the outside.

When he had been attending University towards his MBA, he had almost made the mistake of confiding his thoughts and subsequent bobbles in the Internet startup bubble to the wrong people, but a lifetime of self-discipline kept that from happening. Just thinking about being institutionalized in the wrong way could cause a reality cascade of sequential improbable events, it had been a near thing, until it was realized that he was not the Dodger they were looking for, simple case of mistaken identity. They had wanted Franquois Dotter, who had a hobby of inviting well dressed business women to view his genitalia, which he kept painted blue. So sorry for the mix-up, Sir!

That had pretty much cured him from negative daydreams, and cemented his resolve to not talk about his thoughts and their apparent effects. Maybe there was a connection, and (ha!) maybe not, but what was in his mind was private, and no one would know unless he told them. He could act just as surprised at strange events as everyone else, and for the most part, his entire life had been spent in not having the clarity of intent, the want of desire, or the malice of ill-will well formed enough to have much effect.

Now, with Syd in his life, he wanted to have control of his affinity or power or gift, in order to protect her, please her, and most importantly, not cause any harm to her. He decided to start the day by seeing just what he could do if he wanted to, without unintended bad side ripples or fall-out. He got dressed in his jeans and suit, adjusting his bolo as he stomped his feet comfortably into his perfectly fitting cowboy boots, and headed out the door.

First things first, he thought. I'm hungry, and want some breakfast. He put forth medium want, and noticed a small coin on the sidewalk. He picked it up, and examined it closely, wondering what this had to do with breakfast. A passing man in a business suit glanced at what held his attention, peered closer and then did a sharp double take, He asked reverently to examine the object, trying it with a magnet, and examining it closely with a jeweler's loupe. He whistled softly to himself, and asked Franklin

"Do you know what you have here, my boy? This is a copper 1943 penny. It isn't in that bad of shape, did I see you pick it up off the sidewalk? I would have picked it up myself in a few seconds more, I always do, never know what you will find! You are quite the lucky man, I would say! I am prepared to offer you $6,000.00 for it on the spot. What do you say?"

Franklin adjusted his Stetson back on his head, and met the man's questioning look with a open and honest appraisal. He answered "I say buy me breakfast, and we can discuss it afterwards, how about that?" They shook hands on the idea, and Franklin introduced himself, learning the man's name in exchange. Dalton D 'Tripoli' Dutch, just call him Trip.

As they settled in to breakfast and coffee, Franklin wouldn't discuss the coin, which he allowed Trip to keep, refusing to take it back. "you just hang on to that thing, I didn't know what it was, just another penny on the sidewalk to me. We'll figure out what is what after we eat." said Franklin.

Trip as it turned out, was a restaurateur, not to be confused with a raconteur. A numismatist of amateur status, he also collected sailboats, ex-wives, and super-model girlfriends, some of whom were also in the ex-wife category. Of the collections, the most expensive group was the ex-wives, although he was still on surprisingly friendly terms with them all, except the first one. Seems the following ones knew the score in advance, having been on both sides of the sheets.

He owned several fairly well known national or regional restaurant chains including the one they were eating at. The deal he finally insisted was the minimum he would let Franklin accept was one thousand cash, and free meals for a year in any of three medium quality restaurant chains, which between them spanned the entire nation including Alaska and Hawaii, and all three of which were in this city.

As they waited for the official documents and V.I.P. dining cards to be courier'd over from the head office, they had another cup of coffee poured by the obsequious yet trying to be unobtrusive restaurant manager himself. At last, his eat for free cards tucked safely in his wallet, the amused and bemused Franklin drove off to work, arriving just a few minutes late, shaking his head at what just a medium want brought his way these days.

As he pulled into the Yard, the air was suddenly made noisy with whistles, scattered applause, ribald comments, and hard-luck laments. Franklin laughed, and shouted "Shut-up, allayaz. For all you know she was an over-the-hill cow! None of yas mis-begotten whoresons ever even seen 'er!" Franklin's wide grin gave lie to the aggrieved tone of his voice, and in the sudden silence in the Yard, echoing smiles slowly spread, until one hard luck case growled from his dour face, "Well- Was she?"

Franklin let the tension build for a moment, and just when the breaking point seemed about to be reached, and a riot of exclamations and emotional release about to break free from his curious co-workers, Franklin roared out a ebullient joy, "NO!"

He continued to expound at a more normal volume to the once again stunned gathering "She's a Red Hot Stone Fox, and she's into me!" His silly grin seeming a magical shield against the suddenly redoubled tumult of ribaldry, well wishes, aw shucks and general tom-foolery. The Yard Manager stuck his head out for a look, then shrugged and closed his office door again. After exactly two minutes with no abatement, he keyed his intercom mike, and moved it close to the speaker in his office slowly, until a growing squeal of feedback drowned out the uproarious commentary in the Yard.