The Paperweight

My eyes burned from staring at the computer screen too long. Rubbing them only made it worse. I looked around, blinking hard, trying to re-moisturize my eyes, which now felt like I had rubbed cayenne pepper into them. If I had a mirror next to me, I was sure the whites of my eyes would look like they were covered in red cobwebs. As my vision slowly started to adjust, I realized all of the office lights were off. Apparently, I stayed late once again, while everyone just sauntered off to their families, friends, and pets. I had none of the above.

I was naïve. I once thought that working as a forex trader would be glamorous. I should be making so much money that I could load a stack of hundreds into one of those money guns. I should be able to use it on the hordes of women coming after me. I could be sitting in my infinity pool in my multimillion-dollar mansion. Yes. That’s exactly what I had in mind. The reality, however, was stark for an entry-level noob like me. I was struggling to catch the right moment for my trades, and I was barely making anything for the company. It was all chump change compared to the senior traders.

Everyone looked down on me. It was like someone slapped a kick me sign on my back. Maybe they did? It didn’t matter. I needed to figure something out. My job was on the line. Budget cuts, AI automation, yada yada…

“Another late night Derek?” a voice said behind me.

I turned enough to see it was Yolanda, the elderly janitor doing her rounds emptying the trash cans from each cubicle.

“Yup. It’s the life of a company dog. Woof woof.”

Maybe that was insensitive. My base salary was probably five times higher than hers, and I basically got paid to sit around and stare at a computer. She, on the other hand, probably made peanuts for cleaning God knows how many floors of the high-rise and making the bathrooms look spotless. Her presence was more tolerable than any of my nimrod coworkers. She seemed like a genuine lady. Maybe I was just grouchy from being tired. I figured I'd better smooth my comment over.

           “How’s your grandson doing?”

           She smiled like she was happy I actually asked about her life.

           “He’s good. He’s graduating high school next week.”

           “Yeah? That’s great. Any thoughts on college?”

           She seemed to get uncomfortable, looking down at the floor.

           “He wants to go… he has a lot of places in mind…”

           “Wow, sounds like a smart kid.”

           “Oh he is, he is so smart. I’m very proud of him,” she pointed toward the small black trash bin next to my leg, “May I?”

           I rolled back in my chair and handed it to her. She put her blue latex-gloved hands around the rim and lifted the clear bag out.

           It was strange. She seemed sad now. I wasn’t usually big on spotting someone’s emotions, but something about her just seemed to emanate it. If I believed in auras, I would have said that hers was cloudy or heavy or something. I glanced back at my computer screen. There was still so much work to do, and so many orders to push through before the end of the hour, but some part of me felt guilty for leaving the conversation like this. Even if it meant she might talk my ear off. Whatever, it was fine. It wasn’t like I was breaking any ground anyway. I rotated my chair fully toward her.

           “Is everything okay?”

           She finished putting the new bag into the can and looked at me, surprised.

           “Oh, yes. Yes.”

           She motioned with the small bin toward the space near my feet.

           “I got it.” I reached out to grab it, then continued, “You seem sad. Did I say something wrong? I’ve been known to do that.”

           She held up her hands in apology.

           “Oh no no, you didn’t say anything.”

           “Okay, so, what is it then?”

           I sounded harsher than I meant to. I really was curious now, though. She pressed her lips together and looked left and right as though someone might be watching her.

           “It’s… college.”

           I raised my eyebrows.

           “College?”

           “Yes.”

           “What about college?”

           “Well… we do not have much to pay for it.”

           I leaned back in my chair. I couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed by that excuse. There were always loans. The government, not to mention private companies, were always eager to get college kids on a loan.

           “You know, there are things like scholarships and loans to help with that, right?”

           She suddenly looked very nervous, wringing her hands together.

           “I know. He’s tried applying for scholarships. We don’t want to take out loans.”

           What was it with poor people and loans? Even the big, “wealthy” government needed to take out loans… Still, I got the sense that Yolanda and her family struggled to make ends meet. I mean, by the looks of her, she should be winding down for retirement. Instead, she was probably going to be cleaning this building until she dropped dead. That was bleak. Maybe there was something I could do to help. I didn’t usually like to get involved or name-drop, but I did have a family member who worked in college admissions and also happened to run a scholarship program.

           “Does your grandson have a CV?”

           She looked at me, confused.

           “C…V…?”

           “Just ask your grandson. He should know what that is. Is UC Santa Barbara on his list?”

           She seemed to light up, nodding quickly.

           “Yes, yes it is.”

           “I know someone who works in admissions and also runs a scholarship program. He might be able to help.”

           “Really? Sir, I… I… don’t have anything to give, to thank you.”

           “Don’t worry about it. Just get me his CV when you get a chance.”

I doubted there would be anything she could give me that I would want anyway. She brightened, seemingly standing at least an inch or two taller.

           “Oh thank you sir, thank you!”

           My hand waved dismissively.

           “Sure.”

           I turned back to my computer. Something in the air felt lighter, and there was a velvety feeling in my chest. Doing good deeds felt pretty nice. I might have to do them more often.

           The next day, I arrived back at my cubicle after a generous four hours of sleep. To my surprise, a sheet of paper sat on my desk with a clear crystal paperweight about the size of a baseball.

           “The hell is that?” I mumbled.

           I lifted the paperweight; it felt surprisingly heavy for its size. As I looked at it, I could feel a pressure building on the center of my forehead. I figured it must have been from a lack of sleep. I rubbed my head and set the ball down next to the white paper, which I realized had a yellow sticky note on it.

           Here is my grandson’s CV. I also want you to have this crystal. It is the only thing I can give as my thanks for now. I hope it helps. -Yolanda

           A paperweight wasn’t all that useful in an age where everything was going more digital. But I figured it’s the thought that counts.

           I logged in and loaded up my charts. Another day of hell frozen over. Almost all of my projections were wrong, despite the late night. Fantastic. I laid my head in my hands, rubbing my eyes. I glanced over at the crystal, my head starting to throb again. It was completely clear, not even a smudge from my fingers when I picked it up. I thought that was kind of weird. The reflection in this perfect little orb flipped my cubicle upside down. I could see my computer screen, the line on my chart pointing the other way. Wouldn’t that be nice? If all of a sudden there was a rally at this price point. The longer I stared at the crystal, the more my imagination seemed to run away with me. I could see the bar chart moving, rising higher and higher.

           What a crazy idea. MGA/USD? Madagascar? I surely hadn't gotten enough sleep. Still, my imagination was vivid. I could see the price fluctuations to the nearest cent. I closed my eyes and the entrancement wore off. I didn’t realize how deep into my daydream I had been. The sounds around the office, like typing, mouse clicking, and talking, started to fill my ears again as though I was emerging from being underwater. I grabbed my coffee cup. I couldn’t fall asleep at my desk. That would definitely get me fired. The cup was light in my hands, practically empty. I tilted it back and poured the final drops of that cold, bitter stimulant onto my tongue, but it wasn’t enough.

           I checked the out-of-the-money call options on MGA/USD. They were dirt cheap. I took a closer look, watching the numbers flicker.

Oh, what the heck. Why not? I probably won’t last another week here.

I hit “buy at market”, spun around, and walked off to get more coffee.

When I made it to the break room, I found my favorite little mechanical legal drug dispenser. I reached into the box next to it and grabbed a pod to load into the machine.

Dark roast. That’ll do.

I put the cup under the spout and waited. The machine growled and shook for a moment before slowly spurting out coffee. I kept my eyes on the cup as it filled. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I just wanted to get my coffee and go to my desk.

“Derek!”

A hand slapped my shoulder. Ed. I took a deep breath.

“Hey Ed.”

“Boy, you wouldn’t believe it! Someone should put me in the circus because I’m catching all these falling knives without a scratch on me. Folks around the office are starting to call me the Oracle of California.”

“Catchy.”

“By the way, how’re your trades going? I heard you got burned pretty bad last week trying to ride that trend. You know you can always stop by my neck of the woods, and I’d be happy to give you some pointers.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

The coffee finally filled the cup, and I felt a sense of relief wash over me.

“I should get back to work.”

I grabbed my coffee and nodded toward Ed. He had a smug look on his face as I walked past him. He called out behind me.

“Good luck today Derek! You’re gonna need it!”

What a prick.

I made my way back to the desk and logged onto my computer. The familiar chart displayed in front of me, except for one major difference. There was an enormous green bar.

No way.

I checked my call options. All of them were in the money, big time. For the first time in months, I was not just green, I was American front lawn green. All day it went up and up. Everyone else jumped on the bandwagon with me, even the old Oracle of California. I glanced over at the crystal again. My monitor was distorted in it, upside down as usual. A pressure built up in the middle of my forehead. Probably the combination of adrenaline mixed with coffee, and a dash of sleep deprivation. My mind began wandering again. I watched the chart in the clear orb, and it seemed to flatten out and dip. It was a deep ravine, a valley of death for anyone who might have made a trade at the high point from earlier.

For some reason, I could picture people panicking around the office. It made me laugh to see Ed the Oracle wiping the sweat off his brow. He was turning so red I thought he might have been having a heart attack. I closed my eyes again, and once more I felt the world around me come back into existence. These daydreams were something else, but I got it right last time. Why not see if lightning can strike twice? I sold all of my call options and bought put options. I transformed from a bull to a bear in a flash.

Grr. Watch out.

Call it superstition, but I decided to do exactly what I did earlier. I locked my computer, calmly walked to the break room, and grabbed another cup of coffee. To my disappointment, Ed was there, waiting.

“Nice call on MGA, what’s your secret, big guy?”

“I have a magic crystal ball.”

Ed erupted into laughter that was way too hard.

“Nice one, sport. Keep your secrets then. At least tell me this: how long are you thinking of holding?”

“I already sold.”

Ed's eyes widened.

“We’re practically printing money on this, and just like that you’re out?”

“Yup.”

In that moment, a ping went off on Ed’s phone, and he looked down.

“Oh no. Oh no no no no no.”

He immediately ran out of the room, and I wished I could have seen the look on his face, but I figured I already had, in my crystal ball. Maybe there was something to my new paperweight after all.

That night I stayed late, brushing off my coworkers' attempts to buy me drinks at the bar. Something that hadn’t ever happened since the time I started working with them. They treated relationships the same way they treated trading. They stayed in as long as it benefited them and left the moment it didn’t.

Jerks.

I stayed late this time, not because of work. I stayed to thank Yolanda and catch up with her on this crystal ball. However, to my surprise, someone else was working. A young guy in his twenties. He reeked of marijuana. So much so that I was suddenly feeling very hungry.

“Excuse me, do you know what happened to the lady that usually comes in?”

He pulled out an earbud I hadn't noticed the first time I asked.

“Huh?”

I took a breath and started feeling lightheaded.

“What happened to the lady that used to come in? The other janitor?”

He shrugged. I stared at him.

“Nevermind.”

He put his earbud back in and went back to what he was doing. I sighed, slowly turning back to my desk. The crystal ball sat there, like a black orb in the dark. Then, it dawned on me. The CV. I reached over and read the information off the top.

“Bobby Gonzales.”

Below his name was a phone number. I pulled out my cell phone. It was already eight. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too late to call and ask about his grandma. I punched in the numbers and waited. It rang, once, twice, and then—

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Bobby Gonzales?”

“Yeah…” he sounded unsure.

“Hey, my name is Derek Fullman. I’m a friend of your grandmother, Yolanda.”

Maybe “friend” was too generous, but it would have to do.

“Oh, really? You knew my abuela?”

Abuela was grandmother, I figured.

“Yeah, I met her at work. Sweet lady. Anyway, I was wondering if you could put me in touch with her? I need to ask her something.”

“Ask her something? Are you sure you have the right guy?”

“You’re Bobby…” I looked down at the CV for his address, “On 445 Maple right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“And Yolanda is your grandmother, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay, so, what’s the issue?”

“Well man, you might want to try a Ouija board.”

“Ouija board?”

“She died six months ago.”

I pulled the phone back to look at it. Did I have the wrong number after all? Was I contact high from that janitor?

“What do you mean she died? I just talked to her.”

“Whoa bro, that’s some spooky stuff right there. But, I gotta be honest, I’m not surprised.”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“Abuela was big time into Santeria. You know? Like magic and stuff. There was always weird crap going on when I would visit. Actually, now I’m really curious, how did you get my info?”

“Well… she gave it to me.”

“Dang! Oh shoot!” He yelled into the phone, and I pulled it away from my ear a little bit.

“Yeah, she said you were trying to get into college. She was concerned about how you were going to pay for it. I said I knew someone and I would send your CV. The next day I found it on my desk with a clear crystal paperweight sitting on top of it. It had a note from her.”

I started digging for the note, but to my surprise, it was nowhere to be found.

I thought I left it on my desk…

“That’s crazy, bro. I think I know what you’re talking about. She used to have a crystal ball in her house. That thing used to trip me out. She would be looking at it all day. When I was a kid, she always seemed to know when I was getting into trouble. I swear she could see the future or something.”

“No kidding…”

I looked over to the crystal ball. A pressure formed on my forehead again, and I felt lightheaded. I could see a young Hispanic guy wearing a graduation cap and gown with a gold sash that read UC Santa Barbara.

I closed my eyes and found myself back on the phone in my cubicle.

“…Hello? Mr. Derek?”

I blinked several times.

“Hey, sorry, I zoned out for a second. So, about college, are you interested in UCSB?”

“Heck yeah, man. I mean mister.”

“I don’t want to freak you out, but she mentioned that. I’m going to talk to someone and see if we can get you in.”

“NO WAY!”

I smiled.

“It’s the least I can do. Your grandma saved my job.”

I picked up the crystal and stared.