Tito Perdue's THE NODE - Excerpt #3

He had other possessions, including most especially a .357 magnum revolver that held eight shells. He used to take this out sometimes at night and play with it, yearning for someone to launch an attack on him. He knew the effect of those cartridges, if not on flesh, on watermelons and cantaloupes at any rate. He had two suits, one of them mildewed and the other obsolete. He had a third that fit real well. Had a frying pan, a pocket knife and an outboard motor. But all these fell away into entire inconsequentiality when compared to his most prominent, most expensive, and proudest article of all.
One final book he had, a thing in golden covers that he had bought for its aesthetic appeal. And although he could read no word of it, and although it were far from his “proudest possession,” (being illiterate in Persian), he used to carry this around as well. He had no further books.
His investments, to bring this to an end, were negligent but diversified. Every share of stock was hedged by an option, and every option by some stock. He had invested equally in futures and the past. But mostly he had put his money into the so-called “moral dereliction” coupons, granting certain rights. The wisest thing he had ever done, these had quickly been folded into some of the country’s best performing mutual funds.
Funds, alimony, coupons and strawberries, he was able by age of 37 to retire to his remaining acres, six of them. Here, shut off from the business (and busyness) of the outer world, he shortly lost account of what was happening. Did they still wear trousers, new style girls, and the nineteen petroleum producing nations, had they been subdued by now? He really didn’t know.
Followed then six years in silence.