Taking Stock

"I think I figured out when and where I am," I said.


"That's good," Roland said. "But first things first: do you have any new stock tips?"


The others - Roland, Mona, and Bally - all looked at me with anticipation. The stock market was how we made our money mostly. If we found ourselves in the past and we were able to scrounge up some cash, we could invest in stuff we remembered; most of the time, it wasn't very much, but sometimes we were lucky. Roland, early on, managed to get a tip from his future self that turned out to be very lucrative. We've basically been living off of that for a while.


"Sorry, guys," I said. "I'm only from about a year from now. And I actually came straight from 1983."


"Really?" Bally asked. "How was it?"


"All ponytails and legwarmers," I said. "I did get to see Thriller in theater, though."


"Fine, fine," Roland said. "So where are you now?"


"Los Angeles, 1968. The Ambassador Hotel."


"That's weird," Roland said. "Isn't that where Robert Kennedy was killed?"


"Not while I was there," I said. "Anyway, you guys go to LA. I think I'm due to show up there in a few days."


As Roland went to pack, Bally turned back to me. "Is there anything you can tell us about the future?" she asked.


I took a sip of coffee. "Yeah," I said. "Buy a new coffee maker."


"Is the old one going to break?"


"No," I said. "It just tastes like crap."