JC: William Redman Carter Noble Savage Chapter 56 By Lazlo Zalezac Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2005 Carrying a tray with a burger, fries, and milkshake to the table, William was feeling good about his day. Greg Banner, Tonya, and Street King were already at the table. Other tables were filled with Street King’s entourage; a motley crew comprised of members from the gang in which Street King had spent his youth. Rock had taken a separate table where he could watch everyone convinced that all were carrying guns. Nervous by the presence of the rowdy blacks, Tonya’s assistant had joined Rock at his table. After setting down his tray, William grabbed an extra chair and set it at the end of the booth. Greg asked, “What’s with the extra chair?” “My brother is coming,” William answered getting a strange look from Rock. Waiting for William to take his seat beside Street King, Tonya considered the two young men. The idea that he would become a Druid was almost as exciting as William’s declaration that Greg was a true Bard. She had heard the magic in the music and knew the truth for herself; Greg was a true Bard. Somehow, hearing William make the declaration had set her Irish blood on fire. Street King stared at Greg knowing that because of the young man the music industry was about to undergo a major revolution. He didn’t believe the talk about the guy being a Bard, whatever that meant. An hour of listening to Greg had been enough to destroy the resonance that rap music had with the discontent of the young men and women who had been in the audience. The hard lyrics of street life in the projects that was the basis of rap wouldn’t survive much longer. Shaking his head, he knew that he had a year, maybe a little more, in which to set aside the money that would have to last him for the rest of his life. Looking over at his entourage, he considered how much the half dozen leeches were costing him. Frowning, he wondered how he was going to get rid of them. Looking over at William, he tried to understand the role that this young man held in this little drama. To say that the kid confused him would be an understatement. He’d never seen a young white boy who wasn’t totally intimidated by his entourage. Of course, calling him a young white boy wasn’t quite accurate. He could tell that the kid was part Indian and not the kind of Indian from India. Glancing over at Rock, he wondered why a kid had a body guard. His bodyguard sat down at the table with Rock. Rubbing his hands in delight, William said, “I just love these hamburgers.” Gesturing at Rock, Street King asked, “Why do you have a bodyguard?” “It’s a long story. The short version is that my mother insisted that I get bodyguards for myself and my wife. Since then, there have been a couple of incidents where having a bodyguard has been useful so I kept them,” William answered. “What could you do that would require a bodyguard?” Street King asked. The kid didn’t look or act that tough. He doubted that he would survive in the projects for even an hour. “There is a rumor that I’m going to bring peace to the Middle East. Some people object to that,” William answered with a negligent wave of his hand. He picked up a French Fry and dunked it in the paper cup of ketchup. Smiling, he took a bite out of it. Greg Banner said, “You are the medicine man that lifted the curse from the Native Americans and spoke to the White Buffalo, aren’t you?” “Yes,” William answered wondering how he came to be the center of conversation when all he wanted to do was eat. He reached down and started to unwrap his burger. It was a lot like unwrapping a birthday present. Looking up, he said, “Someone actually came up with the idea to wrap sandwiches in paper. I know that it was probably because people used to wrap meat in butcher paper, but it still makes you wonder how someone came up with that idea.” Face wrinkled in puzzlement, Street King said, “My burger comes in a cardboard box.” “Yes, rather disappointing isn’t it?” William replied with a grin. “I don’t think you’re quite right in the head, boy,” Street King said with a shake of his head. “How rich do you want to live?” William asked in a jarring change in the topic of conversation. “What?” “I asked you to tell me how rich you want to live.” “I don’t understand your question,” Street King answered. “Do you want to live poor, middle class, upper class, or filthy rich?” William asked looking over at the rapper. The burger was poised inches from his mouth. “Man, I’m living filthy rich,” Street King replied. Gesturing with a French Fry, he said, “I got me fancy cars, a big house, and women lounging beside the pool.” “That’s now. What about when your career ends? It will, you know,” William replied. He gestured over at Greg with his burger and said, “His music is going to be the end of your music.” “I’ve got a couple million stashed away,” Street King answered with a nervous laugh. It unnerved him that William had recognized the implications of Greg’s music. Even if his career came to an end, he was going to be able to live rich for the rest of his life. “That will give you a middle class life,” William said with a nod of his head. “What do you mean? I’m a millionaire,” Street King said. “Five percent interest on a million dollars is fifty thousand a year. Two million will give you a hundred thousand a year before taxes. Depending on where you live, that will leave you with between fifty and seventy thousand a year to live on. I imagine that the payments on your big house, fancy cars, and women lounging by the pool require more money than that. You won’t be able to afford living like that. A couple of million means that you can live upper middle class,” William said. He took a bite out of his hamburger and looked over at Street King to see his reaction. Street King stared at William in shock. No one had ever laid out his economic position in such a succinct manner. He looked over at his entourage and knew they had to go. Looking down at his uneaten hamburger, he found that his appetite was gone. He asked, “So what would you do if you were me?” William chewed his burger thoughtfully thinking about the man’s position. He knew that the rapper’s career was going to be coming to an end. After swallowing his burger, he took a sip of his milkshake. Finally, he answered, “Well, I’d decide how rich I wanted to live and put aside enough money to support that lifestyle in very conservative investments. By conservative, I mean bonds, mutual funds, and other things like that. I wouldn’t invest in the projects of friends, land development schemes, or other risky endeavors. Once you have your basic needs met, then you can use whatever is left for the riskier stuff.” “So how much would I need to maintain my current lifestyle?” Street King asked. “I assume it costs you about a million a year to live your current lifestyle,” William said. “Just about,” Street King replied. He was bringing in a little over three million a year. After expenses and taxes, he was left with about a million a year to support his lifestyle. His fifteen million dollar house cost him a little over ten thousand a month including insurance and taxes. His six cars added another five thousand dollars a month. Furnishing his house was another seventy thousand a year. When he added in all of the electronic gadgets, it was another ten thousand a month. His party bill, including food, drinks, and strippers, was close to twenty thousand a month. Meals at restaurants ran about a thousand a day, particularly when paying for ten people with strong appetites for alcohol. His little trips with the entourage cost him another two hundred thousand a year. “Thirty to forty million if you want to assure that you’ll be able to live like that for the rest of your life,” William said performing a rough calculation off the top of his head. It was enough to maintain that lifestyle without consuming the principle. Stunned by the amount, Street King stared at William in disbelief. He was a millionaire and that meant he was supposed to be able to afford the lifestyle that he was living. Deciding that William didn’t know what he was talking about, he said, “You’re crazy.” “No. If there is anything that I understand, it is money. My doctorate is in economics. My investments now total well over what you require,” William said. “What the fuck are we doing eating burgers if you’ve got that much money?” Street King asked in a loud voice that carried across the room. “I like hamburgers,” William answered unperturbed by the outburst. Tonya giggled at his calm response. He looked over at the rapper and said, “You really ought to start doing some financial planning now. Your career is getting shorter by the day.” Picking up on the fact that he had a doctorate, Greg Banner examined William trying to estimate his age. There was no way that William could be over twenty. He asked, “How old are you?” “I’m nineteen,” William answered. “And you have a doctorate in economics?” “That’s right.” Greg didn’t care what Street King thought about William. The young man impressed him and he recognized good advice when he heard it. He said, “I’m impressed.” “Druids and Bards worked together in ancient Europe. I assume that modern Druids and Bards will work together now,” William said. Bards often made sure that ancient kings who ignored the advice of Druids were the subjects of songs that pointed out their folly. Often the songs lasted longer than the kings who were the subject of the lyrics. There was no threat greater to a leader with a self-important sense of pride than going down in history as a fool. “That is my understanding,” Greg said nodding his head. If the Druids were the minds behind the throne, then the Bards were the public relations for the throne. “I think that we’ll be working together for many years to come,” William said. Putting down his burger, he said, “I have a friend that you need to meet. Perhaps after you’ve visited the Druid College, you could come visit me.” Smiling, Greg asked, “What if the Grand Druid has some task for me to perform?” “Don’t worry about that. I can handle him,” William said. He stared at his burger. So far, he had only taken a single bite out if it. He wondered if he was going to get to actually enjoy it. To hear William speak of handling the Grand Druid, Street King said, “You’re an arrogant little bastard aren’t you?” Rather than being insulted, William said, “Lots of people have told me that. As Happy Harry once said, I’m secure enough in my insanity not to worry when people call me crazy. I’ll admit that I laughed when my wife accused me of having low self esteem.” Tonya laughed and said, “I don’t think that is how I would describe you.” Picking up his burger, William immediately put it down. Sighing, he said, “My brother is here.” The door of the fast food place opened and a green robed Druid entered. Looking around, the Druid spotted William. Before the man had a chance to say a word, William said, “Hello, John. I’ve got a chair here for you.” Shaking his head that his little brother had known he was coming, John said, “Enjoy your burger, William. I won’t interrupt your meal. I know how much you enjoy fast food.” “How’s my favorite older brother?” William asked while turning in his seat to look at his brother who was approaching him from behind. “You’re not going to ask how I knew where to find you?” John asked in frustration. He had hoped to surprise William, but knew that was pretty much a hopeless dream. “No,” William answered with a grin fully aware of the frustration his brother was feeling. He knew how John had found him. He had learned what high school William had visited from Betty, his personal assistant, and then driven around to find the nearest burger burner. Looking at the others at the table, John said, “Ah, Street King and Tonya at the same table. I never would have imagined that the two of you ran in the same circles.” “We don’t,” Tonya answered. The rapper’s continued criticism of William was getting on her nerves. She didn’t really like the big black man and his aggressive attitude. Gesturing to Greg she said, “We were here to listen to him sing.” “I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize you,” John said turning to face the man to whom she had gestured. “He’s Greg Banner, the first true Bard,” William said looking at his brother. “Does Oliver know about this?” John asked with surprise evident in his voice while studying the young man seated next to Tonya. “He sent me,” William said. He looked down at his cold hamburger and shook his head at the idea of having to eat cold fast food. John noticed where William’s attention had turned and said, “Hold on. Let me get something to eat.” Street King watched John make his way to the counter. It didn’t matter that he was a tough guy from a tough neighborhood, meeting a Druid impressed him. Gesturing in the direction of John, he asked, “Is he really your brother?” “Yes,” William answered. It seemed to him that Street King doubted everything that he said. He dipped a cold French fry into the ketchup and nibbled on it. He tossed it back on his plate. Cold French fries were worse than cold hamburgers. John returned to the table with two trays. Setting down one in front of the empty chair, he used his free hand to remove William’s tray. He set the other tray in front of William and, with a wink at the others, said, “Don’t bother William while he’s eating fast food. He’s been known to get a little cranky.” “Cranky?” William asked in mock outrage. He was pleased that his brother had thought about getting him a fresh meal. After getting rid of the tray, John sat down and said, “Yes, William. You get cranky when people keep you from enjoying your fast food.” Unwrapping his burger, William didn’t bother to answer. Gesturing at William with his thumb, Street King asked, “Does he really know what he’s talking about?” John laughed and glanced over at William. Leaning over his tray, he asked, “You’ve played at the Atlanta Auditorium?” “Yes,” Street King answered. It was the nicest place to give a concert in the country. The acoustics were outstanding, the stage area was perfectly designed to facilitate setting up for the concert, and crowd control was a snap. “My sister designed that entire facility. Two of our Dads won Noble Prizes. I’ve already been nominated for one. One of our mothers is the author of Indian Tales. We have a lot of very smart people in our family, but William is the smartest,” John said. After William chased down his bite of burger with his milkshake, he said, “I don’t think so. I’m just smart in a different way from everyone else.” “Eat your burger,” John commanded while pointing at the tray with a smile. He turned to Tonya and said, “I really enjoy your music. Are you going on tour here?” “Not this trip. I came here just to see Greg perform for myself,” she answered with a smile. She glanced down at her purse and wondered if he’d want an autographed picture. She seriously doubted it. “Pity,” John said with a shrug of his shoulders. It would have been nice to take his wife to a Tonya concert. He asked, “You really came all of the way from Ireland just to hear Greg sing?” “Yes,” Tonya answered. Looking over at Greg, she said, “I’m an Irish singer and when I heard people refer to him as a Bard, I just had to see for myself.” John’s eyes wandered over Greg, coming to a stop when he spotted the bracelet. Nodding his head, he said, “I see that Greg has been blessed by the Gods and Goddesses. William is right, he’s a true Bard.” Greg thought back to the day when he had been playing his twelve- string guitar in the park near his home. He had closed his eyes and allowed the music to move through him. As his fingers moved over the strings, it was as if he was transported to another world. He was performing for an audience that he couldn’t see through his closed eyes. At the end of the song, someone leaned forward and put a gold bracelet around his wrist. When he opened his eyes, he was still seated alone in the park. It took a moment for him to notice the gold bracelet. Upon seeing the bracelet, he realized that he had gone to another world. Looking over at John, he said, “There was a presence around William when I played earlier.” “Ah, the Two-Sided One was there,” John said looking over at his brother. Street King looked at John in surprise and asked, “You mean he’s been telling us the truth?” “He always tells the truth,” John said looking over at his brother with fondness. William was enjoying his burger and the chance to eat it undisturbed. “He sure doesn’t seem intimidated by my crew,” Street King said gesturing to his entourage. John laughed out loud at the idea of William being intimidated by the rough looking guys seated at the nearby tables. He said, “William is one of the most dangerous people in the world. Momma Ling, who is recognized as the most dangerous woman in the world, puts William among the top ten.” “No shit.” Leaning back, John said, “Rock. Who took down one of the terrorists that attacked the house a couple months ago?” “Natalie and I took out three of them. William took out the one that slipped around behind the house. He had some help,” Rock answered. “Who?” John asked. He had never heard the whole story. With a grin, Rock answered, “The skunk that lives at the bottom of the hill from the house.” Turning to William, John, in a voice of mock horror, asked, “Did you ask a poor innocent skunk to help you out?” “No. He volunteered his services,” William answered. Grinning at his brother, he said, “I wouldn’t dare involve a poor little animal in such a hideous plot unless it volunteered.” Linking together several pieces of information, Tonya said, “That Shoppee girl called you Speaks to Animals.” “She was Shawnee. My Native American name is Talks With Animals,” William said correcting her. Street King shook his head and said, “Now you claim he talks to animals.” “He does,” John said. “Out of my way,” Street King said pushing against William. He was a little surprised when William didn’t budge. When William stood up, he slid out from the booth and said, “You guys are fucking crazy.” William watched him gather his entourage with a frown. When Street King left the restaurant, William said, “In six months record sales of rap style music are going to drop down by twenty-five percent. He’ll be broke in a year and a half if he isn’t careful. Somehow, I doubt he will be careful.” Looking at William, Greg said, “That’s a rather harsh judgment.” “He lives in a vernal pool,” William replied. “What’s that?” Leaning forward, John said, “In parts of this country, there are areas where it rains only during the spring. The water settles in low lying areas to form ponds. In summer, these ponds dry up and disappear. The amazing thing is that there is a kind of shrimp, called Fairy Shrimp, which live in these ponds. Such ponds are called vernal pools. “A Fairy Shrimp will grow to maturity in a matter of days and then lay eggs that settle to the bottom of the pool. When the pool dries up, the shrimp crowd together until the water has all evaporated. The adult shrimp die when all of the water is gone. However, the eggs form cysts that can resist dryness and freezing. The next time the pool fills up, the eggs hatch and the cycle begins again.” John turned to watch the limousine containing Street King, and his entourage, pull out of the parking lot. Distracted, he added, “William’s comment is the same as saying that all of the adult shrimp in a vernal pond won’t survive another two weeks. It might sound harsh, but it is a truth.” Looking at Greg, William said, “Your arrival signals that the music pool in which Street King swims is about to dry up. The sad thing is that he knows it, but doesn’t know what to do about it.”