Chapter 5

May 6, 1984

Molly picked me up after church. It's a good thing I met her at the car, she was trembling so hard I was wondering if she'd be able to stand. My mom had asked what we were going to do in Chaming but when I said window shop, that seemed to satisfy her. I know, through Buck's dream memories, that the freedom was a bit unusual but ever since I'd come back from the hospital mom had seemed to be more willing to give Molly and I time to talk. Maybe she hoped that by releasing my frustrations and fears to Molly, it'd prevent me from trying suicide again or maybe she just hoped Molly would see the signs and alert her in case it came to that. Either way, it was perfect for what Molly and I were doing.

Molly got back into her teal 1978 AMC Gremlin as I tossed two old backpacks over the front seat into the back before climbing in. Molly's Gremlin was old but sturdy; there were rust spots here and there, the bucket seats were ripped in a few places and it had more than a few scratches and paint peels but the engine hummed. I took it for granted that Aunt Laney and Uncle John would ensure she had a dependable car for school. Uncle Johnathon's a mechanic in Rouleau; it didn't cost him anything but parts and time so I was relatively certain he'd make sure Molly's car was running well.

"What are you going to do with all that money, Chance?" Molly asked not long after we started out. I couldn't help but notice her voice was trembling as bad as her legs had been. I started to pay close attention; it wouldn't do to have an accident now.

"Like I said, my first priority is to get my parents some help with the bills," I said as I stared out the window. "The only problems with that are that both mom and dad are stubborn and proud and won't accept help they'd deem as charity and then there's the fact that they'd have a kitten if they found out I was betting. Besides, I want them protected. So, I'm going to create a trust and let the trust pay off some of their bills; if they start asking questions, they'll only find out that it came from a trust and the trusts name will be hidden so they can't get to it." At least, I hoped that could be done. I thought I'd seen something like that in a cop show once but ... well cop shows are fiction and the show was likely on two decades from now. A lot of things change in two decades; you could see that just by looking at the big hair hair-dos everyone was currently wearing.

"Also," I continued. "I can have the trust invest in stocks, bonds and stuff like that to help it grow over time. Then, when Lena, Susie or I graduate high school, I can use it to pay for college."

"Besides," I said, looking over at my cousin and smiling. "10% of it is yours. Since you're placing the bets and picking up the money, you'll have to pay taxes on all of it. The 10% should cover that and more."

"Ten percent of a million dollars?" Molly asked in surprise. "That's like ten thousand dollars! And you're giving it to me?"

"Well, it's not necessarily a million dollars," I replied, ignoring her math error; it was more like $100,000 dollars. "Like I said before, it's going to depend on how many people bet on it, how much they bet and stuff like that."

"But it could be a million, right?" she asked eagerly.

"It could ... or it could be more or less," I explained. "We won't know until we get there."

It turned out to be a payout of $56,480.40 – but that was on a bet of $2; so $28,240.20 for every dollar I spent. I ended up with a payout of $3,953, 628. I thought for sure Molly was going to pass out by the way she was trembling and hyper-ventilating.

I went in with her to make sure everything went off correctly; I can't bet or play but they didn't care if I came in. They tried to pay the full amount by check but I made sure that I received $500,000 in cash – 50 bundles of one hundred dollar bills with each bundle holding 100 bills or $10,000. Molly's jaw just dropped when they stacked the money in front of us. I could sympathize because I'm not sure I was in much better shape; this was more money than I'd ever seen at one time before. It took us almost a full 5 minutes to pack most of it into the backpacks I brought.

We went back to the betting booth where I had her place a $1,000 bet on the Preakness superfecta (Gate Dancer, Play On, Fight Over and Taylor's Special) and another $1,000 on the trifecta, a $1,000 all or nothing bet on the San Diego Padres to win the National League, the Detroit Tigers to win the American league, and the Tigers to beat the Padres at 70:1 for the all or nothing (which meant I had to get it all right or I got nothing). I had Molly place a $1,000 bet on Pedro Vilella to upset Marlon Starling in 12-rounds on June 16; another all or nothing bet in that it had to be Vilella beating Starling and it had to be in 12-rounds. I then had her place another $1,000 bet on the Belmont (Swale, Pine Circle, Morning Bob, and Play on) with another $1,000 bet on the same trifecta. The attendant was being funny and asked Molly if she was sure she didn't want to try the pick six but I actually considered it for all of a moment before shaking my head. I had gambled on horse races as Alex so I had many of them in my memory palace but the furthest I'd ever gone was the superfecta and then only some of the time. I was just lucky that I had the superfecta for 1984 in my head.

The casino was nice enough to have two of their guards walk us to Molly's Gremlin. They even held the door for Molly as she got in the car. I had to get my own door; I'm not sure if that was because I wasn't the 'big roller' or if it was because Molly was female. Chivalry and all that; something I should probably start paying attention to. Most girls enjoyed guys opening doors for them and stuff.

Molly was silent as we got in the car, watching the guards walk away. She sat there for a few moments, her hands clenched on the steering wheel, her eyes just following the guards. "Chance, I don't feel comfortable having that much money in the car."

I looked at her for a second. I could understand her concern but we were the only two who knew about the money. Well, there were the guards but we had been the only ones at the window when they paid us. I had watched to make sure that no one else was paying attention to us.

Besides, most of it was hers anyway.

"I understand, Molly," I started but she didn't let me continue.

"No, you don't understand," she said as she looked at me, tears in her eyes. "Where'd you learn how to do that? How to place those bets? What all of that ... all of that ... STUFF means?"

I swear, I almost blamed the internet but luckily remembered that we were still a decade from the internet becoming popular. "Library," I lied. "They have books on everything there. When I started having those dreams, I didn't understand what they meant. I looked them up in the library and ... they had a book that explained it to me."

I didn't like lying. I especially didn't like lying to Molly. Buck's dream memories always showed a special focus on Molly when she was in them; she was more in focus than anyone and there was always a brightness about her, an aura that told me Buck had considered her very special. I think he had a crush on his older cousin though she'd never done anything to reciprocate; at least not that I could tell. Something of that must have lived on beyond him, though, because I thought very affectionately of the older girl as well and I really didn't have any reason to. She was nice and kind and polite but my attitude towards her was all out of proportion to my – Chance's – interactions with her.

That seemed to placate her and she started the car. "I still don't like all that money sitting in the car. What if someone was watching us and tries to take it."

"Then we give it to them and run off," I replied. "They can have the money in the backpacks and I'll still have the check they can't cash. We'll be fine."

"Besides," I said, turning to Molly with a smile. "The money in the backpacks is mostly yours anyway."

I thought for a moment she was going to run off the side of the road. "Mine?" She gasped.

"Well, yeah," I said, still smiling. "I won 3.9 million and I told you you'd get 10% of anything I won; that's $390,000 dollars – which I'll round up to $400,000. That leaves me $100,000 and I spent $6,000 on new bets so ... of what's left... $400,000 to you and $94,000 to me." I reached back and pulled out 9 packs of 100 dollar bills, in convenient $10,000 bundles out of the blue backpack. I still had the remains of the pack I'd opened so she could place the bets stuck in the pocket of my jacket. I transferred all of the money that was left in the blue backpack into the red, then stuffed my $94,000 into the blue backpack.

"There, all set. Red backpack is yours, blue backpack is mine." I turned around and put my seatbelt back on.

"$400,000?" It wasn't quite a squeak but it came pretty close.

"Yep," I confirmed, chuckling. "I want the backpack back though."

She turned to look at me like I had gone nuts and then started laughing as she turned back to the road. "You're crazy, Chance." She was quiet for a moment. "What am I going to do with all that money?"

"My advice?" I said reflectively. "Put as much into the bank as they'll insure and then open a stock trading account."

"A what?" She asked, again looking at me as if I'd gone nuts.

"A stock trading account," I said. "An account with a broker who can trade stocks for you. Invest in some mutual funds and plan for your retirement."

"I'd do it within the next two weeks, though," I added, goading her on.

"Why two weeks?" she asked, biting on the hook I'd set.

"The Preakness is in two weeks," I said, trying not to smile. "You'll probably have more money then."

June 9, 1984

I woke in a cold sweat. The dream had felt so real, I actually felt my face and ran my fingers over my ribs to make sure I hadn't sustained any damage. Air whooshed out of me; I was gasping the air out of my lungs almost faster than I could take it in. The dream had really shaken me; I could 'read between the lines' much better than 7-year old Buck and my disgust for Cousin Paul reached new heights.

I got up, shaking, my hands trembling and legs so weak I could barely stand. I had intended to splash some water on my face, to clean a bit of the sweat from my skin, but that wasn't to be. My eyes fell on the calendar I keep on the wall to list out important notes, deadlines and appointments and my world upended itself.

I fell back on the bed, tears rising to my eyes. The trembling which had started to taper off, resumed in full force as those same tears streamed down my cheeks. Inside was nothing; an abyss. Inside was an absence that seemed to consume me. I had blocked this day from my mind, knowing what was going to happen and knowing there was nothing I could do to change it. I had barely lived through it once; I wasn't sure I'd be able to live through it again.

When I felt steady enough to stand, I quickly and carelessly threw on shorts, shoes and a tank top and ran out of the house. The tears never stopped. It was a good thing I knew the driveway by heart because I couldn't see it through the flood of my tears.

Normally, I stop at the road and loop back towards the house. Nothing about today was going to be normal. Nothing about today COULD be normal. I ran on down the road, not really caring where I was going. I needed to outrun fate or destiny; I need to outrun time. I knew, deep inside that I couldn't, but I needed to.

How many miles did I run? I have no idea. More than I'd care to count. More than I could afford. In the end, feeling helpless and alone, exhausted beyond all measure and completely overcome with despair, I fell to the side of the road and let the grief take me. I screamed into the night, incoherent thoughts and noise, hoping not to be heard but uncaring either way. I needed to let the grief out before it consumed me.

Today was the day that Alex's son, Samuel John Markle, was going to lose his life in a training exercise at Camp Panzer in Germany. A man was going to die today in Germany at 5:18pm; at 8:18am Montana time or 10:18am Detroit time. Alex Markle was going to receive a call at 1:32pm Detroit time indicating his only son had passed. It would be the beginning of the end of Alex's family and his life.

I'm not sure how long it took, but I walked back home. I had to walk and even then I had to take frequent stops. I had nothing left. I'd cried and screamed out everything I had and all that was left was the empty shell. I felt helpless, despondent. I couldn't even call Sam; I couldn't even tell him to be more careful today. I couldn't tell him all the things that Alex had wanted to that first time through; I couldn't tell him I loved him, couldn't tell him that I would always love him, that he would always be my son. I couldn't because my son had been off-comms for the past three weeks; there was no way I could get through.

At their first sight of me, Mom and Dad thought I'd moved back into depression and they were right; they just didn't know why – nor could they ever know. I tried, but it was impossible for me to turn a happy face to them; not today. I didn't have enough happy in my soul on this day to even fake it. I couldn't eat, couldn't drink. I didn't even help dad in the field, just told him I was feeling ill.

I think Mom called Molly but she was out with her family visiting her maternal grandparents; she wouldn't be back until late tomorrow. It wouldn't have mattered even if Molly were there. There was nothing she could do; there was nothing anyone could do.

"Chance, we love you," Lena said as she wrapped me in a hug. Even through the grief, I knew how much this cost her. Lena, Susie and I had never been much for 'hugs and kisses'; the entire family didn't seem to be much for that stuff, though mom would come the closest.

Susie came up and wrapped her little arms around Lena and me. I swear the love I felt from the two of them actually pushed the grief away, if only slightly. If only Alex had had some of this, someone to wrap their arms around him when word of Sam's death reached him, perhaps things would have turned out differently. Perhaps Ann wouldn't have committed the crime she did and perhaps Edith wouldn't have taken her own life.

"The fair is down in Chaming," mom said cryptically. She came and put her arms around the three of us, fear and determination vying for control of her face. "Go get dressed; we're going to the fair."

"Mom, I'll be fine, I'll make it," I started. "I'm just ... I'm feeling a bit ... depressed. I don't want to go to the fair."

"Chance Buckland Pestle, I wasn't asking," she said firmly, determination finally winning out. "Go get changed. We're going."

Arguing with mom did no good. It never did any good after mom had made a decision. Even dad knew better than to argue with her. You could beg, plead, whine and cry but we were going to do what mom had set her mind to. It was just the way she was.

I don't remember the ride down to Chaming. I was too lost in my own head. I kept looking at the wonderful, new life I'd acquired and wondering if there had ever been anything I could do to stop the tragedy that had, by now, already occurred. Even if I had called on the day I'd come back, though, what would I have said? Be extra careful on June 9^th? Sam would have thought it was a crank call; even if I'd managed to convince him, would he have bothered listening to a little kid?

The fair was what fairs always are; loud and crowded and filled with jolly sights and smells. If this had been a normal funk, I'm pretty sure it would have lifted it; a fair can just have that effect on you – there are too many happy people around for you to stay upset. This wasn't normal, though. Nothing about this day could possibly be normal.

They took turns watching me as I walked around; mom and dad at first, then Lena and Susie. I tried to affect an air of cheer to make them think I was coming out of my depression but I guess I'm just not that good of an actor. I went on a few rides – the carousel with Susie, a small, obnoxious roller coaster with Lena, and the Ferris wheel with both of them. I tried, really tried to overcome my grief but it had a hold on me and wasn't letting me go.

In the end, I just sort of wandered around, not really paying attention to where I was. It was strange, though; when I'd pass the exit, I'd feel a little tug. That feeling, that strange pull, was enough to push my grief down just a bit as curiosity vied for control of my emotions. I walked around the fair several times and each time, when I passed the fair exit leading to the streets and shops beyond, I'd feel a slight pull, like someone tugging on the coat I wasn't wearing. I resisted at first, as much because I would have resisted anything on this day as because I didn't want to worry my family by wandering off. After the fourth revolution around the fair, though, I couldn't resist it any longer. I exited the fair, aware in the back of my mind that Lena and Susie were following me.