“No, but—”

“Mom, there are people out there, in this world, who try to make money. Maybe not in our family, but they do exist. There are lots of them, in fact. I’m sorry I’ve dishonored him with my pursuit of the almighty dollar.”

She’s quiet.

“You know I’m right,” I say.

“I know,” she says, laughing.

I laugh too. “What a dick,” I say.

“What time is your flight again?”

“Four-thirty. You know, if he wants a relationship with his son, he’s going to have to get over this.”

“Well—”

“What, were you going to say he doesn’t want a relationship?”

She pauses. “Are you taking drugs?” she asks, staring straight ahead.

“Holy fuck. No, Mom.”

“No?”

“That’s what this is all about?”

She nods.

“Christ,” I say, shaking my head. “If I’m going to do the time, I might as well do the crime.”

* * * *

I look up at the screens. I see a lot of low-hanging fruit that these guys are not grabbing. But these are juicy orders. There are other dudes starting to file into the pit, and it is only a matter of time until they start picking these berries. So I say “Buy your book March 75 puts, a fifty-lot,” and Dickface guy is getting really pissed off now. He’s turning around and screaming in my face. I just stare back at him. I want to tell him tough shit, I just made $10,000. This is the easiest money I have made on this floor in years.

I need to hedge, so I turn around to the clerk and tell him to buy 2,000 COMS. I startle him. I think he was just finishing up a phone call. Probably with his girlfriend. She’s really nice, that kid is going to ruin her if they stay together much longer. He scrambles and fumbles and starts tapping away at the box with the stylus, and finally he gives me the thumbs up, I’m filled. What a production. I don’t know why I don’t just use Janice. She’s completely insane, but she’s competent.

It’s getting near the spinoff and it occurs to me that I haven’t seen T22 yet today. He’s this phantom that slithers around and makes errors in between giving out giant, loopy softball trades to people. Imagine you have a friend who leaves a trail of $100 bills behind him. You’d want to make friends with that guy. It has occurred to me that he might be the most important person in the entire city to be friends with.

There he is.

Just as I am wondering what hospital, jail, or other institution he ended up in, he appears, walking along the outside of the pit. His eyes look even more haunted than usual. He was fine when I left the party. I can only imagine what happened after I left. I wonder if Purple Hair Girl got what she wanted, and if T22 gave it to her. All this raging can’t be good for business. He probably just missed ten grand worth of commissions. But as we glance at each other—was that a wink?