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Guardian
Looking back, I should have known there was something different. I remember feeling as if something completely out of the ordinary was about to happen. I ignored it and laughed off the strangeness for exactly what it was; strangeness. I couldn’t really explain it to you, except to say that I had the oddest dream the night before, and, everything went right the following morning and afternoon. I mean everything. That never happens. Never. I won’t bore you with the past details. Suffice it to say that when I try to do something, sometimes the most ordinary task, I end up having to do it two, three times. Something a bit more difficult might require me going broke before I get it right. It’s not that I’m an idiot. Truth is some would say I’m down right brilliant. At times, I figure I’m distracted by something else. Most of the other times, I would say, and those that know me would probably agree, that I think too much. Over-think. Everything. Then, when something is presented that might actually require over-thinking, I might brush over it. That’s probably what could have happened here. I would gloss over the strange feeling and give it no more thought. Sometimes; sometimes, I get the feeling someone’s screwing with me. Besides that, my brilliance tells me I can be an idiot, but hell, you decide. A conundrum if you will. Let me tell you what happened.
We’ll start with the simple stuff. Making coffee. I have to have my coffee before I look at the stock markets. The strainer for the coffee grinds cleaned up easily. I pounded it into the garbage to remove the old grinds and almost all of it came right out. Rinsing it under the sink easily removed the last remnants. It was spotless. Not a big deal, to you, but it was to me. I know; you think I’m a cheap date, easy to please. Here was the biggie in the coffee story. I didn’t spill the water when I filled the canister. Not a drop. That also never happens.
I worked out a bit, pushups and sit-ups, and felt the burn pretty good, like I was supposed to feel it. I usually do, so maybe I shouldn’t have said that. I went to check on the markets and they were down. Way down. That was good, because I was short the market. One of the indices was approaching a level of support I had predicted a week before, which made me smile. I like to make money. Unfortunately, I don’t make it very often. I get the feeling that there’s one trader out there funding his children’s education on my speculation. I shot over to my home office, pulled up my account and entered the exit position. One reason I’m still alive in the game is that I never get greedy. Click, two seconds, the trade was confirmed!! It usually takes anywhere from ten seconds to a minute or two, I don’t care what the commercials say about ten second execution; they lie.
It was a nice payday. More smiles and the best news was that coffee was ready. Down into the kitchen I pulled out my favorite cup and poured some Columbian into the porcelain. Man, that smelled good. Guess what? I didn’t spill the coffee either. What is it with those coffee pots? The coffee swirls around the lid and dribbles right down the face of the pot onto your kitchen counter, instead of what your aiming at; the middle of your freakin’ cup. Half and half, sugar, a taste, mmmmmm, nicey-nice. Can you tell? I love my coffee
My cigarettes were on the opposite counter and lo and behold the lighter was there, with the ashtray, right where they were supposed to be. I lit one and there was another guttural sound emanating from my body. Drugs in the morning, a Maxwell house morning, with a bit of RJ Reynolds for after taste. More mmmmm’s, just like Mom used to make.
Anyway, you’re getting the feeling that this is pretty simple stuff, right? I realize that. What I’m saying is that as simple as they are, it’s always a bit of a struggle and something always happens, even as small as spilling something on the counter. That’s it. Well, the trade wasn’t simple, but everything else was. Key element here is that I noticed it. Things were smooth so far. It made me think, even for a moment. And there it is, over-thinking. Well, that’s what I do, so get over it. You either love me or hate me, and most hate me. The good news is that I don’t really care what other people think or that they hate me. Which is probably why I don’t have many friends. But the one’s I do have are good ones.
Okay, the morning is smooth, too smooth, and I’ve taken notice of its creamy consistency. I take my coffee and smokes up to my office and think about it. Why? What’s different that everything is clicking along so nicely so far today. No answers come forth to bow before me, so, I don’t give it another thought. I check a few equities, make some choices, and look at the whole market, general conditions and what not. It’s just not a good time to be long, even though things are already relatively low. It’s a difficult thing to short a bear market, more difficult than you might think. This is something I don’t need to think about. Too much. Around 10:00, the market reverses direction, moving higher. It’s looking to fill the gap it created with its lower opening. I watch and wait, letting the market tell me she’s tired, or she has more steam to power higher. Once the gap was filled, the market hesitated. The moment of truth, at least for the next two hours of trading. Most jump in right now, making their bets, biting their nails, promising God they won’t covet anyone’s wife ever again. Instead of seeing the actual movement, they want to bet on it’s direction. Nothing to be done about it, human nature is what it is; we need to beat the unbeatable, and then bitch about what we already knew, or should know. We can’t beat her, we can only steal from her. Better to see the line and travel its course than bet on it before it is visible. It’s not fool-proof but it works better than straight betting.
Alright, that’s not the real point. The truth is that everything was working out beautifully. The market in fact reversed direction again and falls, making its way to its earlier lows. I short the indices heavily, and watch the paper profits grow. It looks like my original downside targets are going to be broken. It hesitates at that point again, spikes higher, then continues descending. I’ve already picked the next level of support, which is a full two points lower. I short again, in effect, doubling my short positions, and wait. It is now 11:00 AM.
I check through my emails, at home and work. Nothing of interest or urgency. I check the activity on the indices. Sure enough, they are motoring down to the next target. A small spike up, a larger one down, stepping its way methodically to my targets. The NASDAQ 100 is now 75 points lower than yesterday’s close. Another 5 and we are good to go. A bit of buying pressure comes into the market and now she’s down 65. My hands are hovering, trying to decide if it’s had enough. I almost made up my mind, and blink, she’s down 80, 85,90, 95 onto and through a 100 points down. There are no buyers anywhere near the market at the moment. But a lot of sellers. I always buy into a seller’s market and that’s what needed doing now. I threw the whole position into the market and watched it getting eaten up. I was out in less than a minute at a whopping profit of 3 points averaged! It was 12:00PM and I had cleared enough to pay my bills for a year. I was done on the short side. It was reminiscent of a bear spike that signals the end of the downward movement. I was looking long now. Whether it was today, tomorrow or next week, it was coming. Ah, we are so fickle. No loyalties, except to being right, long or short, I just want to be right.
It wasn’t time to make a decision. Again, the markets have to tell me they have reversed direction. It was very likely that it would happen today, but I didn’t know for sure. It could wait. I closed everything down, made my entries in my books, and went outside. It was beautifully warm and sunny for an early March day. And I was feeling good. I thought, ‘Hmmm, golf”? Without another thought, I went back in, changed, got my equipment and headed over to the golf course nearby. It was nice out, with the slightest breeze. It made it a little colder, but bearable. There was no wait. The starter pointed me to the first tee, where another guy was warming up. I usually prefer some short game practice, putting and chipping, but I wasn’t there to shoot a score. I simply wanted to enjoy the day, hopefully hit a couple of good shots and enjoy being away from work. I introduced myself, and he did the same. It turns out Jerry was a decent golfer, who had the same opportunity, to be away from work on a nice March day, and play some golf. He gave me some time to stretch and practice swing. I quieted down and watched him sail a ball 250 yards with a slight draw square in the middle of the fairway. Nice shot. I teed up my ball, got behind, swung slowly twice, picked my spot, took my stance and pulled the trigger. One of the sweetest tee shots I have ever hit. The ball rocketed past Jerry’s on the fly and bounded down the hill. The ball must have traveled 350 yards, with the help of the hill that no one ever hits. Jerry looked at me as I came back to my bag. “Somebody came to play today”, he said lightly. I smiled sheepishly as we made our way down the fairway.
The day on the course went like that. Sweet tee shot, 17 of 18 greens in regulation, 29 putts, 8 under for the day (I saved the green I didn’t hit). It could have been better. At least four other birdie putts lipped out. It was an amazing performance. Jerry was chiding me by the turn, saying stuff like, “I didn’t realize they had ringers on this course”. I smiled, spoke little, was very encouraging to my ball and to Jerry’s. We had a good time. He shot his best score ever, a 75, and gave me the credit. I told him he played great and deserved it. He smiled and said he hoped to see me again. We shook hands. I made my to the car, left my golf shoes on, threw the bag in the back, and started her up. While I waited for the car to warm-up, I thought about my game. Don’t misunderstand me, I’m an accomplished golfer, playing to a zero, but this was weird. Anyone who plays the game, knows it’s one of practice, reiteration, concentration and relaxation. The only thing I had were the last two. The last time I had struck a ball was a month earlier, before that was five months earlier, in October of last year. New York and winter simply don’t lend themselves to a steady regimen of practice and play. I didn’t understand how I did what I did today.
The smoothness of the day came back at me. It was like I had the golden touch. And that scared me. Here’s why. The last time I had this feeling was ten years ago. It was back when I had just finished one of my degrees, was getting married, and had started trading futures at the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. In a matter of months, I had made a small fortune, sticking to what I knew, pursuing my methods religiously, and listening to know one else. There I was, on the beaches of St. Martin during my honeymoon, saying the one thing no one should ever say. Right out loud to my wife, “Honey, I can’t do any wrong. It’s like I have the golden touch”. Wouldn’t you know it, and you probably do because you’re smarter than me, that was the beginning of the end. Right at that moment. At that very freakin’ moment, a sneaky thought came creeping into my head, “Oooooh, you shouldn’t have said that, at least not out loud, hell, not even ‘in loud’. I didn’t say anything to my wife about my after-thought.
Sure enough, the next year was pitiful, the year after that was worse, and when it was all over, I was broke. I didn’t stick to my plan, made mistakes, couldn’t figure out what was wrong, tried, failed, kept trading, and kept losing money. It never occurred to me to stop and reflect. The key here is stop; trading that is. Reflect, think, work it out from a third-person point of view. Oh no, I had to try to be as smart as I thought I was and heck, everyone told me I was smart. I should be able to figure this out. Yeah, well I did. But only when I was broke and couldn’t trade anymore. Over-think when I shouldn’t, and not think when I need to. A terrible pattern. No wonder I was scratching to rebuild my accounts.
I spent years recovering from that, financially and psychologically. My wife tried very hard to be supportive, but I was simply too hard on myself. During those years, every time I started to think I was smart, I told myself, “Shut up, stupid. Fuckin’ moron”. Don’t tell me I’m smart, intelligent, etc. I’m not. I know better. I’m not pounding myself, just being realistic.
Okay, so here I am in my car almost ten years later, and that same thought comes into my head. My whole body goes rigid with the audacity of the thought. “Don’t say it out loud”, comes wailing out of my head. I started laughing at myself. I must have looked ridiculous. I had clamped my hand over my mouth to avoid the ‘ultimate sin’. I caught sight of myself in the rearview mirror, eyes all wide, hand over mouth, shaking my head ‘no’, like there was someone there to see.
I took my hand away, lit a cigarette, threw on some pounding guitar music, and leaned back. I tried to enjoy everything, the events of the day, but it was nagging at me. The fact that I even thought it, “I have the golden touch”, was bothering me. I know better. I have the farthest thing from a golden touch it isn’t even funny. It’s more like everything I touch turns to crap. Trust me, I know. So I laugh at myself again, put my seat up, put the car in gear, and drive home.
On the way, I stopped at the 7-11 around the corner from my house. I wanted more coffee, get off my back. I go in, take care of the coffee and get to the counter to pay. This nice looking lady ahead of me is paying for coffee of her own. I wait patiently, checking on the latest gum that the kids are buying, some stretchy stuff that looks like it would end up as a permanent decoration in my hair if I tried it. The lady finished up and I flipped the guy behind the counter two bucks for my coffee. He gave me my change, thanked him and walked back to my car.
“Hi, I couldn’t help notice you in the store”, the lady was waiting for me by her car, which was parked next to mine.
I said, “Hi, that’s okay, I couldn’t help it. I noticed you too”.
“Oh, that’s good. Listen I’d ask you to buy me a cup of coffee, but …”, as she looked down at our coffees.
“That’s really nice, and I would, but I’m married. You’ll excuse me ma’am, but I want to get home”.
“Okay, I mean, listen, I don’t care, if you’re married I mean, I just said I noticed you”.
I looked at her and couldn’t figure it. She was a good-looking woman, thirty or so, powerful body, long black hair, about 5’4”. Most guys would kill someone to be talking to a woman like this. I’m a good looking guy, at least people tell me so, but I’m getting on in years and look at least five years older than I am. Why is she talking to me?
“Alright, I’m sorry. I mistook your meaning. Listen, it’s nice meeting you. I have to go”. I made to get into the car.
She talks to me again, “Hi. Listen. I did mean it that way. Can we go somewhere and talk”?
I didn’t know what to say to her, except what I said before. “No, ma’am, I can’t. Married, have to go, bye”.
“How’s your day? Going really good I’ll bet”. This as I was just getting into my car. I stopped half way and looked at her. “What did you say”? My dream was coming back to me in full force.
“Oh, you heard me. How does it feel, Richard? To be in control again, to win again, to have the focus. How does it feel”?
“Who are you, and how do you know my name”?
“A guardian angel, your guardian angel”.
My eyes kind of squinted at her, giving her the distinct impression that I was convinced she was loony. “Really”?
“Richard, don’t put me off so easily”.
“Right, a guardian angel who wants to screw my brains out. Listen lady, I don’t know your game, but if you knew me, you’d know well enough that right now you are going to be seriously ignored or in serious trouble. Take your pick. I don’t play games so get to the punch line so I can get out of here”.
She looked right at me and smiled. There was something that could soften the hardest bastard on the planet and it was that smile. I caught myself losing my guard. I’m usually better at keeping myself together.
“You see, you don’t want to be mad at me. And I’ve always admired the way you speak your mind, no matter who you talk to. Come on, let’s go and talk, just for a little while”, her voice was like silk
I shook my head no, because I was losing my desire to control myself. “I have to go”. She grabbed my arm. Suddenly, just like last night, my entire life was before me, rolling on super high speed, different times, different events, all sequential. Kindergarten, 1st grade through high school, meaningful events that impacted me. College, work, different jobs, different women, marriage, everything that made me who I am today. It took a moment and then she let go. I was stunned and physically shaken. Half of my coffee had spilled onto the black pavement of the parking lot.
“Who are you”?
“I told you, your guardian angel”.
“Okay, fine, why are you making yourself evident to me. Now, all of a sudden”.
“For the last ten years, even longer, I’ve watched you berate yourself for your failures. You worked hard, studied hard, tried hard, made brave decisions, bold ones, watched you take smart chances, and still you would get punished time and again. I’ve watched you learn a ton of new things and apply your knowledge with incredible results. No one ever gave you credit. No one really noticed. You didn’t mind. You knew you would make it on your own. The hell with what everyone thought. But it still hurt. I know. I saw. I felt it for you. How’s that for a start”.
I was floored.
“The big man gave me the okay to turn the tables for you. I talked with him time and again, but he wanted to see how you persevered”.
“You are telling me I passed His test, and now I’m to be rewarded”.
“Well, that ‘s putting it simply, but in a nutshell, yes”.
“So now what. Anything I do is going to work”?
“No. You still have to put the time in, make good decisions, study your problems and come up with solutions. What I’m allowed to do is provide inspiration, a whisper, a reminder. Basically, I’m now allowed to do my job one hundred percent”.
I was getting angry. If this was true, somebody, this angel, Him, whoever, had been working things against me. I thought back to how many decisions I thought were sound and should be fine, should even have had great results, all turned into, you guessed it, “Crap”. I looked hard at her.
“You’re telling me that I went broke to be tested”?
“Umhmm, yes, unfortunately, that was part of it. It wasn’t malicious. It was to see more of your substance, your resiliency, your inner strength. I have to tell you, most of us were very impressed. Most people would have killed themselves by now”.
This was not helping. She continued.
“Killing yourself is a truly terrible thing to do, to your soul and to your ever-life. What you call Limbo is a terrible punishment. You spend the rest of your existence pondering those same things that threw you over the edge. Punishing yourself eternally. With no hope of ever gaining salvation, I might add. Simply awful. Honestly, Hell would be better. At least you know why you are there, with some hope of interaction, though admittedly, it is painful”.
I just stared at her.
“You did well to avoid Limbo. Better yet, your perseverance has earned you the ability to pursue intelligent courses of action without fear of biased intervention”.
I sipped the remnants of my coffee and grabbed for a cigarette. I lit it and blew smoke at my ‘guardian angel’. The wind whipped up and blew it back in my face.
“Richard, I know you are angry, but see the larger issues. You are free to run. You have the rest of your life to become who you wish to be”. She smiled largely at me. She was very happy. I was not, though maybe I should have been. It was tough to swallow that everything behind me was a misdirection.
“Listen, lady. I had that ability before. You are telling me that you and whoever else, has been fucking with me all this time, making me doubt my goddamned sanity, and you want me to be happy because now you won’t interfere anymore. Oooh, and just as an added bonus I’ll fuck your brains out. As if, maybe that’ll soften the freakin’ blow. Are you out of your fucking mind. What in the world is the matter with you”?
She just stared at me. We held each other’s gaze for a moment and then she looked away. She spoke up finally.
“I wasn’t going to fuck your brains out, you know. I just wanted to talk to you. Let you know what has been happening. Though I might have if you were a bit nicer”.
“Ha, a bit nicer. Lady, you got bigger balls than me. Listen, and listen good. You take your little bullshit ass and fly back to whatever hell you belong to because you don’t belong to me”.
“Now, now, Richard. Is that any way to speak to your guardian angel”?
“No it’s not. That’s why I’m telling you to move the fuck out of the way”.
“Richard, this is your last chance. Be nice”.
“Lady, listen to my lips say, ‘fuck you, bye, you are not welcome’”. I turned away from her, threw my cup at her, and flicked the last of my cigarette at her, too. I started the car and roared out of the parking lot. I saw her in my rearview mirror, standing by her car, staring after me as I drove away. I pulled into my driveway, opened the garage door and threw my keys on the table. I looked up and said hi.
“It’s about time you got back”.
“I know, I got delayed at the store”.
“I know. I was watching. You did well”.
“Thank you.
“How do you feel”?
“Not bad, though a bit angry. The boy downstairs is a smooth operator. I’d have been fooled if you didn’t talk to me last night”.
“We knew something was up, that’s why I came. Aren’t you surprised to see me here”?
“After last night, today, and this little meeting I had at the store? What makes you think anything could surprise me”?
“No, I suppose not”.
My real guardian angel was sitting at my dinette table, enjoying a cigarette.
I asked her, “So why are you here”?
“We thought it prudent to follow up with you after your meeting today. A personal meeting was in order. Sometimes dreams are just not enough. A question, though. What tells you I’m the real thing versus the angel you met today”?
“Well, let’s start with the sex thing. I’m pretty sure that’s not how you and your buddies operate”.
“Actually, we indulge when it strikes our fancy”.
That stopped me cold. I was pretty certain that I was right before this.
“What’s the matter? You find it hard to believe that we would find humans attractive or desirable. Why is that? And where did all of you get this notion from? What, you think God himself impregnated the Holy Mother. Please, don’t be so naïve”.
I was starting to over-think. One thing I was certain of, though. This day was not turning out so well. I thought real hard, inside my heart and my soul, asking anyone of true faith for help. Please help me to know the truth. And Christ, that was a wild thing to say to me.
I looked at my angel, eerily similar to the other one from 7-11. Different, yet the same. There was a bit of a glow to the one in front of me. I couldn’t tell if it was coming from her or the light from the window behind her. It was translucent, yellowish-white, and very becoming. “Can you prove to me that you are who you said you were last night”.
“No. I cannot and will not. You must have faith and decide for yourself”.
“What do you want with me”?
“Not much. Simple acceptance. Your life will be vastly different with that acceptance”.
“What do I have to do? There has to be a catch”.
“No. No catch. Just accept and we’re good”.
It was too easy. Don’t you think? I begged again for help. All I had was blue smoke, a good looking angel, and indecision.
“I can’t. I just don’t have enough information. I mean, give me something to work with. You want me to accept you are my guardian angel, that you have sex, that we’re good as long as I accept what you tell me as truth, and my life will be different. You know, this doesn’t sound too different from the conversation I had earlier”.
She didn’t say a word. She blew another cloud of thick, blue smoke, a devious smile on her face and she was gone.
My heart sank. I could feel the difference. I could feel the loss. The emptiness. I was standing there, my chin down on my chest, feeling helpless and dejected.
“Who were you talking too, hon”?
My wife was looking at me a bit oddly. “No one, just my self. You know me, always trying to work something out, even if it means you think I’m nuts”.
She nodded at me, gave me a funny look and went back inside.
Something way down deep told me I was right. I consoled myself with that thought. I was also thirsty. I stepped up into the kitchen, took a glass down and put it into the water dispenser of the fridge. The glass broke, cutting my right hand slightly. I cursed, put the glass in the sink, and raised the wound to my mouth. I looked up, I looked down, a rueful smile on my face the whole time.
Great. Here we go again.
***
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