by W.H. Harrod
The drive back into town the next afternoon didn’t produce the same pleasant reveries as the drive out. Terrance always experienced a sense of loss whenever he and Jess parted. Did he love this sweet beautiful woman who provided the only calming influence in his life? When they were together he found his thoughts less chaotic. Things in general were less confusing. Would they ultimately be able to work out their different points of view towards life? Was there room for compromise? he wondered. This, too, for now must remain an unanswered question.
This last thought caused Terrance to recall the small, decorated gift bag Jess had handed him through the car window as he took his leave. She always gave him little presents. Reaching over to the passenger seat, he put his hand into the small paper bag and extracted the single item it contained—another framed saying from the “Tao Te Ching,” her favorite book. Raising the small, tastefully mounted frame up to where he could see it, he read the adage’s first stanza.
“If you are without, there is room to receive.
If you possess much, fear of loss will
confound you.”
What am I to do? Terrance pondered as he drove along. He planned to be successful, to be somebody, and to acquire wealth and property. He didn’t intend to go to law school, and then turn around and become a drop out and go out to live in the woods with a bunch of fellow dropouts. For his entire life, he’d maintained this same dream. This promised not to be an easy decision. Maybe this is where the lady attorney who kept calling him came into the picture. She had certainly displayed an interest in him, and based on the nature of their conversations, he suspected it involved more than their mutual interest in the law. She could be of great help, but how far did he want to take it? He shook his head then looked back at the inscription again, “What did it say about becoming confused?”
Minutes later, the Cherokee rolled through the side streets taking him to the entrance to the alley running behind the professor’s home. This brought another matter to mind—the deal where he went back and forth to the track for the professor. This, also, gave Jess some cause for concern, no matter that he only invested his time. The professor provided all the money and did all the brain work. A sweet deal as far as Terrance was concerned; the easiest money he’d ever made. May all his future endeavors be as simple and as profitable as this one. If Jess had a problem with this—what other problems loomed on the horizon?
Catching sight of his lair in the distance, Terrance felt a sense of relief. Putting all this aside and getting back to the other, more urgent matter at hand—Mr. Joseph D. Right, appealed to him at the moment. Terrance had to be ready to hit the streets running tomorrow morning. All his plans must be in order to keep from wasting time. Within two days he had to determine if this story rated a go or a no go decision. He allowed no time for confusion now.
As Terrance came up to the corner of the garage and prepared to pull into his assigned parking spot next to the building, he noticed the professor sitting outside behind the house. He appeared to be reading the newspaper. Or, better yet, Terrance thought, he might be preparing for the next Pick Six trip. That would be fine with him. The big one could be out there waiting for them. No matter what, he intended to find the time to perform his part of the deal. With the professor’s luck, he might pull off the big one someday soon, and Terrance didn’t plan to be left out.
Terrance got out of the Cherokee and walked over to the rear patio to say hello to the professor. The best he could tell, the professor hadn’t noticed his arrival. As he neared, the reason became clear. Daily racing form in hand, along with pages of notes scribbled on a large legal tablet, the professor went about his business of planning his next assault on the track. “Well okay, let’s go for it,” mumbled Terrance under his breath as he came closer.
“Afternoon professor, I see you’re hard at it again. Just yell when you’re ready; I’m set to go whenever you need me,” said Terrance as the startled handicapper became aware of him, “and as you always like to say, ‘we’re due.’”
“Well, hello there Terrance. I didn’t hear you come up. Guess I’m simply too engrossed in this next effort of ours. You’re exactly right my son, we most certainly are due. Remember to keep that positive attitude, and we’re sure to prevail; I’m quite sure of it. I’m on a mission you know. Sit down for a minute and tell me how things are going. I’m forever interested in people who are still involved in the everyday affairs of the real world. Contrary to what most young folks think, we older citizens aren’t only interested in sitting around in rocking chairs and talking about the grandkids. Do sit down.”
Terrance laughed as he took a seat in one of the white whicker chairs close to the professor. “What’s this retired stuff? You do more now to help people in this community than any five hundred people I know. If only five percent of the current work force would retire and keep as busy as you do in community affairs, most of the social ills confronting this country would disappear overnight.”
“You give me way too much credit,” responded the professor, “but I do want to be of service to my country and to my fellow man. So, I do what I can. Say, have I shown you my plans for the family shelter I’m planning to build as soon as we hit the big one? I’ve already picked out the land north of town. Figure we’re going to need at least a quarter section, what with all the horses and cows we will be taking care of. Kids need to be closer to nature and animals, I believe. Too many of them simply don’t know what to do with themselves in these cities. That’s why I’m out here doing this today; I need to hit the big one so we can get going on it. Way too many kids are getting lost or left behind in these cities where life is moving faster and faster each day. Here, take a look.”
Terrance politely declined the offer as he’d seen these same plans a dozen times before. All the drawings and schematics, along with cost projections down to the last nickel, made this a first class plan. The whole thing might work if the professor got the start up money—and who knew, maybe he would someday. “No thanks, professor. I’ve seen them before. And I hope you’re right. I won’t keep you from your work, I only wanted to say hello. I’ve got to get inside and get busy myself on a project that has come up. I suppose that right at this time we are both men who are on missions.” Terrance rose from his chair. “But as I said earlier, I stand ready to make the Kansas City run whenever you need me to. So, just let me know.”
The professor sat for some time staring after Terrance as the young man took his leave. He was very fond of this affable youngster, especially since they had one big thing in common—both were dreamers. Not daydreamers entertaining flights of fancy but likeminded souls who maintained a vision of another way of living, a different way of thinking about life. But, as a more mature person who had witnessed seventy-plus years of the vicissitudes of life first hand, the professor also knew that to live constantly in dreams of tomorrow, one risked missing out on the only true thing that exists—and that is today. He intended to keep a watchful eye on his impetuous young friend.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN