Chapter Two

The Grays

The next day I was alone as usual. Raven had her own life, with which she was loath to share details, and I went back to work. By “work” I mean not commuting to an office. I was in business for myself. I opened windows on all of my three computers and had at it as a daytrader.

Stocks rose and fell, I sold and bought, waiting for just that right moment, that little bump to give enough of a profit to sell the stock, and then I moved on to the next. Some days I lost money, but more often made enough to not have to worry about finding a job on the cube farm. I did alright, in fact, more than alright. I could have bought a house, a nice one, and living where I did in New England it sure wouldn’t have been cheap. But instead I chose to save my money, so I rented a one bedroom apartment and rarely left my place at the computers. I had heard that dedicated computer gamers did the same thing. They lost track of time, never went out, and I had gone down that same road. But then, one morning (or night, I didn’t know which at that time, I couldn’t tell anymore because I had hung heavy drapes at the windows to cut down on any daytime distractions) I caught a look at myself in the mirror. What I saw was a guy that, although still young, looked way older than he should have. The paleness of my skin, the rings under my eyes, the unshaven face told me that I was on the edge. If I didn’t change my ways I would have been sucked right into my motherboard and never be seen again.

I had locked myself away, and it wasn’t due anymore to the pursuit of money. The money was nice (hell, it was great!), but it was the hunt that kept me hooked, the thrill of buying low, selling high, and making a killing while everyone else flailed about. So I took a step back from the mirror, stumbled outside and squinted into what I thought was bright sunlight although the day was overcast. I even shouted at a passing neighbor just to say hello and hear the sound of my own voice. They didn’t answer back, probably thinking I was some addict coming off a crash from my latest high. Well, I was an addict, only not the kind that took drugs. That day I knew I needed a change, any kind of a change. So I shut down the computers, went out and joined a gym to replace the just starting flab with some solid muscle and, for good measure, bought a motorcycle.

I rode for weeks, not going anywhere, always coming back to the apartment at night. I cut my time on the computers way way down, turning away after three or four hours in the morning and going out in the late afternoon, early evening. On one of my wanderings I stopped at a little bar, somewhere in the Berkshires between here and wherever. I guess what attracted me to the place was another motorcycle, kind of like mine, that was already parked there.

It turned out to be Raven’s. It was obvious it was hers because when I strode inside a helmet sat on her bo