Chapter 1

“This happens now.”

James walked out the front door of his parents house, backpack slung over one shoulder. It had been three weeks since his grandfather had given him the Schedule.

Everyone considered his grandfather lost. The atrophy of his gray matter put him into a home down on W. 7th St. one of those depressing places where the smell was the worst part for James, but many other things were a close second.

His grandfather didn't recognize anyone, and he rarely made any sense. No one had understood a thing he said in at least six months. No one, except James, and that only occurred once, three weeks back.

Now, James checked his inside coat pocket, ensuring the Schedule was safely tucked. He continued into the cold Minnesota air, headed for his first day of school after the holiday break. The peace of the snow-filled morning intermittently interrupted by snowblowers and trucks and a couple of stray airplanes heading south like belated geese. If all worked as his grandfather said, he might be on one of those very planes next winter. 

He crossed the four lanes of Independence Drive, and was chased the last few steps by a newer model Ford Mustang who seemed to speed up before making the turn into the parking lot. “Donkeys are such asses,” James muttered, repeating one of his dad’s favorite cuss-phrases. He couldn’t help but smile from the humor when he said it. 

He walked into the school, saying hello to Mrs. Whipple and veering for the benches set off to the side of the expansive atrium. The morning sunlight filled the corners with warmth, giving evidence both to the soaring nature of the space, and the unyielding battle of dust versus custodial staff. 

James set his backpack on the bench with a small thud, took off his coat and removed the iPhone from his pocket. Kids streamed past him, energy in their voices. Some were draped on each other, athletic boys next to pretty girls who seemed able to live in the present moment in ways that he could not. James always planning, thinking of his next angle. 

It was 8:35, time to check his buy order. 

He had opened the subjected with his dad after dinner last week. “Dad, I need a brokerage account.” 

John McAllister paused, set down his book, and said, “We don’t really have money for investing right now, do we?”

James pressed, “I’ve got $1,200 in my bank account, and I’ve already set up most of the account information. I just need to use your name on it, as an adult, and transfer the money from my account. I can have it all done tonight.”

“But you could lose it all.”

“Then, I’ll get a job.” 

“You already work.”

“Then, it’s not so much risk because I can just work more hours.”

“Investing is difficult. People lose lots of money. Smart people lose all the time.”  

“And some people make money, too,” James said. “Let me just try this out, and if I lose in the first few weeks, I’ll sell the stock and just wait.”

John leaned forward. “Well, of course you can do this if you want to, James. I was just trying to warn you of what might go wrong. But, it’s your money.”

So, James finished setting up the account, and funding it with $1,100 from his bank account.