“Johnny,” Barker said as he stood and we shook hands. “Has Tina been torturing you again?”
“Moi?” said Tina. “Can I get you boys anything?”
“No, thank you sweetie, Juana is making us a snack and I can grab whatever we want to drink. You go back to the pool.” He hugged her and kissed her forehead, and she slunk out and closed the door.
Tina was Barker’s sister and soulmate. She was attracted to me, and I to her. My niece Dawn was my soulmate, and she and Barker were doing the same dance. Barker and I had agreed that we each would never, ever. We sat down.
“Is she wearing you down, Johnny?”
“There’s no safe answer to that except a lie, Thomas.” I leaned back on the sofa and rubbed my face.
“What’s wrong, Johnny? All you told me was that you wanted to talk.”
I spent the next few minutes laying it out for him. He sat back and was quiet for a time.
“I’m a nerd,” he said. “I never had anything approaching the kind of risky, combative life that you’ve had. The closest I got was helping you get the Morrisons back when they were kidnapped, and that was just logistics. I’m not sure I’m the right person to come to for advice on this.”
“When it comes down to it, it’s more a question of what makes life satisfying and worthwhile,” I said. “I figure everyone has to ask that question and figure out the answer, so I want to know what you think.”
He was quiet for a longer time.
“I still work,” he said. “It may not look like it, but I do. I’m still writing software. It’s very rewarding work for a nerd like me. And I do a little hardware design, too. I outsource the fab for it.”
“Fab?”
“Fabrication,” he said. “I have all the time in the world, and no pressure to deal with. Just like you, I’m wealthy and I don’t have to worry about the next paycheck. I can do what I want, on the schedule that I want. I don’t have to do anything at all, but life gets boring if I don’t.”
“No shit,” I said.
“You want a drink?” he said.
“Desperately,” I said.
We walked to his bar. I chose Highland Park 25, neat. He poured himself a glass of red wine, and we went back to the study.
“What do you miss about being a cop?”
I thought about it. “Being a cop is 95% boredom and drudge work, and 5% ‘You couldn’t pay me enough to do that.'”
“And which is the part you miss?”
I thought some more, but it was easy. “The 5%.”
“I figured,” he said. “Because you’re good at that part, and you know you are, and you know what doing it does for the world.” He took a sip of wine. “Cyndi told me everything that happened when you rescued her and Richard. You took a bullet for them and were ready to die for them. You were kind of reckless about it, I think.”
“‘Rangers lead the way.'”
“Yeah, well, isn’t it also advisable to assure that you can lead the way next time as well?”
Valid point.
“What I really want to know, Johnny, is what you think you want to do?”
That took me aback. Morrison was younger than me, but I think hugely smarter than me, or at least smarter in different ways. It was a great question.
“I don’t know,” I said. “If I knew, I don’t think I’d be here.”
Barker started to speak but was stopped by a knock at the door. He stood up and opened it, and there were Juana, Esmeralda, and Nela, wheeling in a cart with what I assumed was lunch. They were all nude. And I’d had sex with all of them before. I wondered what the deal was.
“Lunch is served,” Juana said as the cart rolled in. She pulled the covers off the platter to reveal various types of sushi.
“We can do Nyotaimori,” Nela said.
“We can do what?” I said.
“Naked sushi. You would eat it off my body.”
“Who’s body?” Esmeralda said.
Nela shot her a look. “Okay, off the body he chooses.”
Barker stood. “Thank you, ladies, but we’re not done with our conversation yet. I fear you might prove a terrible distraction. That will be all, thank you very much.”
We were treated to the view of their lovely asses as they walked out and closed the door.
“I think I need another drink,” I said.
“Me, too,” Barker said.
After we’d refilled, Barker again asked me to think about what I wanted to do.
“Assume you don’t have a pot of money. Assume that you don’t have three young hotties who want to give their bodies to you every night. Assume that you’re just starting out in life. What’s your life’s work going to be?”
I thought about it. “I’m having a hard time doing that, forgetting what I’ve been and where I am now. It’s all a part of me. I…” I couldn’t go on, because I had nowhere to go.
“Let’s take a break and have some sushi,” Barker said, putting down his wine. “Juana is getting really good at this stuff.”
******
I sat across a patio table from Richard and Cyndi Morrison. The pool rippled and glistened next to us, reflecting the Southern California sun.
“Money,” Richard said.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Money is your problem. Or at least part of your problem.”
“‘Money is the root of all evil?'”
“Actually, it’s ‘love of money is the root of all evil,” Cyndi said.
“That’s good to know,” I said. “But how is it relevant?”
“What are the things that motivate us?” Richard asked. “Why do we pick a job, or a career?”
I thought about it.
“When I joined the Army, I wanted to serve my country.”
Cyndi looked at me. “Really? Not, avoid college, couldn’t get a job, wanna pick up girls who like uniforms?”
I stared at her.
“Sorry,” she said.
“And when you became a cop?” Richard said.
“Well, I needed a job, for sure. And so I tried to figure out what I could do given the skills I had. Cop seemed like a natural fit.” I paused. “Criminal probably would have worked, too.”
“Yeah, that’s not you,” Cyndi said.
“Thing is, most people tend to be driven by the need or the desire for money,” Richard said. “That’s the ‘moving forward’ vector. People also have desires to do certain things, or to work toward certain outcomes, but that just adjusts the vector left or right.”
“Okay…?”
Richard sighed. “By becoming rich, and by making all your friends rich, you’ve taken away the need for a forward vector.”
I sat back and considered. I sipped some Highland Park 25. All my friends stocked it, because they know I like it.
“You’re rich, and you’ve made me and the chief and lots of other people rich. But you’re still working. You still have a forward vector. Why?”
“It’s fun,” he said. “I get a kick out of taking risks and beating the market, the bigger the beating, the better. And people need me. Not just big players, either. Some of the investors in my fund are little old ladies on a pension, or no pension. I’ve met some of them. It feels good to know that I’m helping them.”
That was one of the reasons I became a cop: to help people. To go after the other type of people: the ones who hurt you and take your stuff. Maybe Richard was onto something here.