THE BALLAD OF THE MEME STOCK TRADER - PART 2
A police siren wailed somewhere in the night waking Maria up from her troubled dream, in which the whole of New York City was submerged in water as she swam past the tops of aqueous looking sky scrapers, struggling to find a way to break the surface which appeared forever beyond her reach.
The relief she felt waking up was palpable as she went to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of triple-filtered water, dehydrated no doubt from her subconscious swim.
As she returned to her bedroom, she saw a flickering light through her son’s bedroom door.
“You should be asleep!”
Nuno, pretending to be asleep, let his phone slip from his hand onto the carpeted floor.
“If I see anymore light coming through this crack, then I’ll be confiscating that phone for the rest of the month.”
Nuno faked a light snoring sound so as to further convince his mother of his sleeping, but unconvinced she left his door further ajar, leaving him paranoid that she might see the flash of his LED screen should it be reactivated.
When she finally returned to her bed, she gazed upon her partner fast asleep. She enjoyed studying his perfectly sculpted face as he remained in peaceful repose.
She felt compelled to kiss him, but thought better of it. Anthony didn’t like to be disturbed by the unexpected. He was a man who liked to control things and he expected those around him to understand that. A few years previously, she had arranged a surprise birthday party for him. Needless to say it was a disaster and one that nearly killed off their relationship as suddenly as one of the burst balloons that Anthony assumed was an assassination attempt on his own life as he stepped through his apartment door. His political status wasn’t quite at the assassination stage of priority but he’d always jumped the gun when it came to his own self-importance.
Under this controlled environment, it was therefore understandable that Maria might have the occasional anxiety fuelled dream. She had little way to break free of the restrictive lifestyle she felt she had to maintain for him. As Anthony's career ambitions grew bigger, the less free she began to feel. She almost yearned for simpler days when her partner wasn’t embroiled in some legislative controversy or tabloid scoop.
“What’s the matter? You can’t sleep?” Anthony said quietly with his deep, baritone voice.
“I had a bad dream.”
“Well. You’re awake now and so you know it was just a dream. You gonna be able to get some more rest?”
“I’ll try.”
He gave her shoulder a perfunctory brush with his hand and turned on his side.
As she lay there perfectly still, with her mind racing, Maria suddenly felt profoundly alone.
The morning had finally arrived in the Bronx and brought with it the first falling leaves of autumn which were softly making their cascading descent to the sidewalk.
Lucio woke up from his sleep, covered by a twenty inch pizza box across his chest and the sound of Puccini’s Nessun Dorma alarm tone ringing from the right hand pocket of his sweat pants.
Emerging slowly off his couch, he brushed off the remaining crumbs of pizza crust from his tee-shirt and stood up, stretching his arms toward the ceiling which was decorated in damp patches
Emptying his bladder while checking the endless notifications on his phone, Lucio felt a little flat.
The promise of the MOASS (Mother Of All Short Squeezes) had left summer for dead and Lucio’s plans for both his and his followers financial freedom with it.
He hated to admit it to himself, but he was feeling a creeping sense of pessimism pervade his overall state of being. It was becoming harder and harder to keep his spirits high, especially with the knowledge that seventy thousand followers had now come to see him as their “unofficial” leader, their Robin Hood or Pedro Campos and only the appearance of his resolute determination on camera was keeping them all from losing their minds.
The reality was he was simply a guy with a calculator who'd made hundreds of videos about a "million to one" unique market play. Yes, he had lived several incarnations in the financial world over the past few decades with all its many iterations, but where he was now, after returning from jail was nowhere pretty much.
"I'm just a guy looking out for his one lucky star," he muttered to himself after pressing the flush on his toilet.
As much as he repeated his worked out figures to his ever growing audience and the predicted near-certain outcome of the short squeeze, he had a persistent nagging voice in his head that told him he had to reassure all seventy thousand of his followers day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute and that brought upon him increasing anxiety which he usually cured with pizza and coke.
It wasn’t that he didn’t believe it would happen. It was more because he knew the way the market worked with all of its many sleights of hand. It was rare for investors to make big money returns in such a compressed period of time, but this was as close to a sure thing as was possible in this age of such 'known unknowns' or volatile variables as he liked to call them.
After grabbing a coffee from his favourite cafe, Lucio headed to the park so he could clear his pizza hangover.
Watching the deserted looking Wollman ice rink which he always remembered so fondly, he saw a couple of huge looking rats, the size of small dogs, running across where the young children and couples used to skate.
Before the melancholy had time to bite, Lucio was distracted by a loud voice a short way from where he was sitting on the bench.
“Hey Lucio pal! I watch you on you tube!”
A stocky looking Italian-American man approached Lucio, looking like a heavy from an old school gangster movie.
“Oh yeah?”
“My wife is always telling me I should have married you instead of her. She thinks I’m obsessed with you, which I kinda am.”
“Well, you don’t want to marry me pal. I snore louder than my late mother. God rest her soul.”
Lucio did the sign of the cross as the heavy set guy edged closer toward him.
“Name’s Paulie. Good to finally meet you O genie of the lamp.”
Lucio and Paulie shook hands.
“It’s official now. We’re best friends.”
Lucio was dwarfed by the man's considerable dimensions.
“So, what’s your story? You a park dweller just like me then?
Paulie blew on his takeaway coffee to cool it down.
“I do security up at City Hall.”
“I thought they had A I doing all that now, what with all the cameras everywhere and them jumping robots.”
“No, they still need a few of these ham fists to keep out the trouble makers.”
Paulie showed off his giant pair of hands to Lucio, tightening them into fists and then punching the air a la Rocky.
“I wouldn’t mind more politicians being able to defend themselves rather than using others as their human shield. But we all know they’re spineless,” Lucio mused philosophically.
“They’d run a mile at the sight of a flying fist.”
Lucio smiled at his natural affinity with Paulie. This was the best of New York right here.
“So, anyway, are we still set for the big squeeze?”
“Does the Pope wear a funny hat?”
“Alright then. It’s gonna be a good Christmas. Mink furs all round.”
“Fake mink. You’ll be castrated if you wear animal fur in this city.”
“Alright brother, I’m just glad you’re looking out for us meat heads. God knows, I don’t have a clue about half the stuff you talk about. But if this sends me into an early retirement then it’ll all be worth it.”
Paulie gave Lucio another squeeze of the hands before leaving him.
"It's like touching the cloth. I should do the sign of the cross or something."
Lucio waved him off, both flattered and embarrassed at the jocular adulation.
“Just so long as the market doesn’t completely crash or an asteroid takes us out, we should be alright for that Christmas bonus.”
Lucio crossed his fingers and looked to the skies above.
"See you in Vegas for New Year then," said Paulie, with a grin on his face as wide as a pizza peel.
It was only just after Paulie began to walk away that Lucio had a thought pop into his head.
“Hey Paulie! Wait a moment would ya?”
Paulie turned round to face Lucio.
“Yeah brother, what is it?”
“You ever see much of that DeFazio guy?”
Paulie replied without hesitation.
“DeFazio? You mean old pencil face? Yeah sure. He’s putting himself about everywhere these days. Why?”
“No reason. Just see him climbing further up that greasy pole.”
“He’s certainly no saint the way he makes out, that’s for sure.”
Lou’s interest was piqued.
“Oh no?”
“His wife looks long suffering is all I’m gonna say about that.”
Paulie shot his coffee cup into a nearby waste bin with the accuracy of a professional basketball player.
“That’s not his wife. They’re not married,” Lucio felt he needed to clarify this technicality.
“Maybe he’s still ironing out the pre-nups. He doesn’t want her to get all his AMC shares maybe?”
Lucio smiled, but he couldn't help feeling defensive of Maria even though he understood that Paulie had no idea who she really was and why she meant so much to him.
“Well, tell you what. You ever need security when you get swamped by all your legion of followers, give me a call.”
Paulie handed Lucio his business card and with that the two men parted ways.
It was now getting on for lunchtime, and Lucio had a meeting with some of his financial contacts before he would do a live on his YouTube channel, updating everyone on the state of play.
With just one degree of separation between him and Maria now, thanks to his chance encounter with Paulie, he had a skip in his step for the rest of the day.
He even christened a pair of passing ducks Lucio and Maria as a harbinger of positive future outcomes.
Later that evening, on the upper west side, Nuno was preparing to meet some of his mates.
Asking his mother for some change, Anthony snapped back before she could even respond, “What do you need change for? You’ve got your own card. Everything’s contactless now anyway.”
“I need it for the bacon bomb sandwich we all plan on getting. It’s cash only.”
Anthony looks aggrieved by the thought of local businesses still operating with hard cash.
“Why do you need more money to buy that rubbish with? I thought we transferred you some money just a few days ago.”
Nuno looked sheepish. “I went and bought some more AMC shares.”
“AMC? The cinema chain? They’re dying! What are you wasting your money on that rubbish for?”
At which point, Maria intervened.
“He’s learning how to invest. If he makes mistakes with the money, he learns even harder.”
Anthony looks frustrated.
“There’s some notes in the change jar. But just remember. Cash is dirty. Especially in these disease ridden times of ours.”
Nuno thought it best to say nothing, and quickly got the cash he needed before heading off to meet his pals.
“I'm telling you Maria. That boy is gonna end up on fentanyl or some other opioids if we don’t get him into a proper school soon. You buying that bacon bomb bullshit?”
Maria shrugged her shoulders. She believed her son, but could see that Anthony was especially angst ridden lately and appeared keen to see the negative in everything around him that wasn’t assisting his political career ascension.
“You want me to cook something? Or shall we go out?”
“I’ll grab something while I’m out. I’ve got to meet someone shortly.”
“Who is it?”
“Someone from the senate who is helping me plan my mayoral strategy. Is that okay with you?”
“So I’ll just cook for myself then?”
“Order yourself something to be brought here. Carmine’s will put together something decent for you. They love me in there."
The increasing sense of loneliness combined with claustrophobia of the city was become accentuated by the minute for Maria.
She needed something to help her break out of this constrained feeling or otherwise she would scream the place down.
“Maybe try the calamari. Or the spicy scarpariello wings?”
Maria said nothing in response to his suggestion but a volcano was eurpting inside.
He turned to look at her.
“What? Why you looking at me like that? You don’t like seafood, what?”
“I’m just tired is all.”
Never one to empathise much with other people’s feelings, Anthony returned to his mobile phone where he continued to scroll through mindless posts on his social media.
“AMC. What a waste!” he muttered to himself, under his breath.
Later that night, in bed, Maria was restless.
Although Nuno had returned home safely, Anthony was still out somewhere, supposedly ‘schmoozing” with his "contact".
Searching on her phone for something to distract her busy mind, a moment of destiny struck her or perhaps it was algorithmic serendipity. Either way her phone had brought something to her attention that immediately broke her out of her latest funk.
On the suggested video that came up on her list, she saw the familiar face of Lucio with the title “the moon ain’t going anywhere.”
She had to refocus her eyes for a moment to be sure it was him.
She then took a quick intake of breath before clicking on it.
When Anthony finally returned to his bed in the wee small hours, he saw that Maria was sleeping soundly.
As he stripped of his clothes to take a shower, he wondered what she was dreaming about and why she had a half formed smile across her face.
“Night Maria! Our ship’s coming in baby! I wouldn’t lie to you.”