THE CURE

CHAPTER FOUR

BY DAVID LAWRENCE CADE

Saturday, December 13, 2008 had begun with Louis and Larry getting up before dawn to prepare for a busy day of shopping together and a drive along the Potomac searching for homes for sale.

Friday had been windy, with cold weather in the 30’s, dry leaves blown into brown, crimson, and tan piles alongside garage doors and fencing.

A drive along the gently winding older city streets in affluent sections of the larger cities such as Alexandria and Richmond would have seen the occasional professional man outside his house raking leaves or tending to some landscape issue, most of the gracious stately homes on 1/3 or ¼ acre, impeccably kept with holiday wreaths on custom front doors, English Tudor inspired, Victorian, Mediterranean, Colonial inspired, and even art deco two and three story homes in neighborhoods considered quite desirable by the capital area elite - whether government, financial, legal, medical, business - homes often with just ten or twelve feet separating the exterior walls of the adjacent structures, proud American-inspired architecture, the prices of lots so high as to make building on more than one small lot too expensive even for the successful homeowners who have achieved this lifestyle.

An afternoon drive on that Saturday morning would seen a few couples - usually a man and a woman and often with a dog - out for a walk in the brisk air, the man in sweat pants or jeans, a vinyl jacket, the wife in warmer clothing, greeting the rare homeowner who happened to be outside his house checking on the shrubs or the mail or putting up Christmas lights.

The rare vacant lot that came available due to tearing down an older home in the most expensive northern Virginia towns was priced so high that architects were in need of fitting every possible square foot into every corner of the lot within the easements, so that, above the privacy fencing of custom design - wrought iron headings, cedar, and sometimes the newest white vinyl fencing - residents could open their second floor windows and, if the screens were down, use far less than a ten foot pole to touch their neighbors bedroom shutters, with street after street in historical sections built before 1950 providing all the security that the American dream appeared to have offered, even with a global financial crisis leaving some sleepless wondering if they would awake not quite so rich as the year before.

As he and Larry finished up with housework so as not to have “a mess” to clean up when they returned, Louis was thinking of how the world had come to find some of its public and private sector legends to have feet of clay, with another fraud on Wall Street beckoning to outdistance the worst known up to that day.

Where is the world tending? he thought. Have these people no sense of God, other than a God who will forgive their every sin, so what matter if they sin? Is that the rationale of modern business practices around the world, perhaps?

Louis began wondering about all the pilgrimages of time. How men and women in centuries past had journeyed to Jerusalem from around the world, or to Mecca, the temples and mosques drawing the devout and faithful to travel in caravans and by ship in a quest for resolution. Was that it? Louis wondered. An inner resolution? A sense that they are touched by God, by the holy, by the holiest of human sanctuaries? What did they find within themselves, or believe they would find, to undertake a pilgrimage from one corner of the earth to the Middle East, or Lourdes, or Rome, and in times when travel was only by land or sea?

He looked outside to see if the mail had come and noticed a girl sitting on the front landing of a house across the street, in her case a grandchild visiting her grandparents, with a large white dog of mixed breed sitting beside the seven-year old girl with one paw over her left shoulder as if consoling her, the girl with one hand under her chin pouting a bit as the two looked out at the world, the street, not much going on that Louis could see, wondering how many times girls in an introspective mood had sat with the family dog on just such a cold wintry morning and what artist could capture it and do it justice.

“Let’s go to the square,” Larry called out, meaning an exclusive outdoor shopping square with over seventy fashionable boutiques, upscale clothing stores, fine jewelry, at least one or two shops with a regional chain going out of business; Louis had driven past the square the previous afternoon on his way home from the university and seen a hapless young man in winter clothing and a stocking cap standing near one of the entrances to the square from the main thoroughfares, the young man holding up a painted sign taller than he was announcing the closing of one long-standing clothing store where Louis had liked to shop, the young man at the curb obliged to stand in the harsh wind, ignoring as best he could the constant flow of traffic, the smells of car engines, diesel, the whole time wrestling with the large sign with its beckoning of “50% off everything” as the wind flipped the sign about and Louis had wondered how much they paid the sign holder. Was he a student, a store clerk assigned the task, a young man out of funds and unable to find anyone else who would pay him for less arduous effort?

There was a large aerobics center at the square - among the more expensive in the area - one that Larry could easily have afforded but that he and Louis had only visited once, impressed with the interiors, the gleaming metal machines, the facilities, the goodwill of the members, but unsure they should part with that much money given the free facilities they enjoyed at the capital and the university.

Larry, however, had said they should consider a membership now, given the convenience to where they lived and that he would no longer be working for the government. Next to the gym which had large art deco lettering on its sign was a ladies salon and spa where the female elite of the area could go to improve their image.

Louis began thinking of how crowded the square would be that morning, a fact that made holiday shopping on weekends less than appealing to him.

“It‘s getting close to Christmas,” Larry said, humming a famous secular holiday song.

Louis looked out at the cold clear sky. Just right for getting around. We won’t need much coaxing to walk quickly to get around everywhere.

“I wonder if we should go real early, like right now,” Louis said, “to avoid the crowds. It could be hectic.”

“I know. But we might as well try it,” Larry said. “We’re young. We can move fast.”

“So long as we don’t get run over.”

The square had mostly women’s high fashion clothing stores, far fewer men’s shops, two upscale department stores, clothing boutiques for both sexes, numerous high-end gift shops, a bookstore, and considerable walking for anyone who wanted to see much of what was for sale.

“We could go to the mall if you prefer, but let’s do something,” Larry said.

“No, let’s go to the square. I know I’ll enjoy it once we get there.”

“There you go,” Larry said.

Louis thought a while about the markets of bygone eras, early twentieth century, Revolutionary period, in America, Europe, the informality, the chaos that must have been common on market days, an entire countryside of villages converging to trade, barter, defraud no doubt, cheat, swindle, beg perhaps, offer and sell to the highest bidder goods the would appear most humble in the year 2008 with its pinnacle of material affluence available worldwide but from which a cautious humanity peered concerned that not even greed could stop at least a tumble down a ways from such an auspicious height as that to which merchants and suppliers had climbed seeking the public’s money.

“The clerks are so nice in all those stores anyway,” Louis said as he and Larry finished dressing and prepared for the drive.

“They’re paid to be nice,” Larry said, heaving his huge chest a bit, grasping Louis’s shoulders and kissing him warmly. “We ought to start a fad and kiss in public at the square, see if anyone notices.”

“Oh they’ll notice,” Louis said. “You can hug and kiss me anywhere you want, you know that.”

“I can?”

Who would go aground on the sands, the hidden reefs of the economic swirl into which America had sailed? At times, as one after another institution proved less of a modern miracle of nautical craftsmanship and more of a worn struggling throwback to the earliest days of human financial explorations - and so many had begun to flounder - the urge to escape to the protective custody of government intervention felt less and less like a surrender to failure, even if those who had preached belief in “free market forces” during the previous eight years were still disdainful of those who could not make a profit in the world to which they had shepherded America and its bank accounts.
They used Larry’s SUV, a blue 2006 model in need of a light washing, the interior windows a big fogged until the heating system cleared them up. It was just after ten a.m. when they arrived at the square.

It was already quite crowded as far as parking, but they found a space not too far from their favorite spots and walked to a luxury jewelry store. Inside, there were gleaming counters with diamond jewels, sterling silver necklaces, watches, about six sales people, mostly women dressed stylishly asking if they could help every time Louis or Larry looked up.

“Can I help you?” one young woman asked.

“Thanks,” Larry said. “Just browsing.”

A thirty-year-old man, a salesman, was sitting at a counter on the phone taking someone’s credit card information. There was one elderly man with his wife at a counter looking at pearls. Most of the customers were women, fashionably dressed, some with children. There was a faint odor of food, like lunch had been cooked somewhere in a back office, but it was only 10:30 a.m.

There was a uniformed security guard, a man in his early sixties, standing to one corner, walking about at times, watching the entrance. The prices seemed reasonable to Larry, who had been looking for something rare for his mother for Christmas.

“She loves black pearls,” Larry said, asking a saleswoman to show him a necklace.

“We do have a thirty-day return policy,” she said.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t want to return this,” Larry said.

They looked at the one and two carat diamond rings, then some custom-made hammered silver pendants on sterling silver chains. Without buying anything, they left, zipping up their jackets. “I think I’ll get that necklace, but not until we’re about to leave for the day. Don’t want to leave it sitting in the car.”

They walked over to a large two-story branch of a New York City fashion store with men’s and women’s clothing and jewelry.

“You never buy anything here,” Louis said as they went through the first of the glass doors.

“I know,” Larry said. “It’s too expensive. But my dad wants a golf shirt that they only carry here.”

The prices of some of the men’s clothing included blue jeans by an little-known brand with price tags of $175, rather thin fabric on dress shirts priced at $150, and the golf knit shirts priced at $160.

One careless move and this will rip to shreds, but then it’s silk, Louis thought as Larry looked over the shirts, selected one, and paid at the register. He had it gift-wrapped, during which time they looked at the jewelry cases, a man in suit and tie helping them, asking if they were looking for something for a Christmas gift.

After making the rounds to a couple other men’s specialty stores, Larry said, “Let’s go back to the jewelry store. I’m going to get that black pearl necklace.” Which he did, and when they got back to the SUV, he suggested,

“You know, let’s try the home improvement center.”

“It’ll be crowded this time Saturday morning,” Louis said.

“I know, but there are things I think we should check out for the house.”

It was another ten minutes drive before they got there.

Across America, some were having anxious moments waiting to see if they would be among the hundreds of thousands that corporate America was ready to reject in the next round. For those who still had homes and at least the illusion of stability, their focus - as in the best of times - tended to be whether they would find exactly what they were looking for at all the stores - the predominant retailing mandate of the time: “Did you find what you were looking for?”

At the home center, Louis wondered on seeing some of the older men and women dressed in their company vests announcing that they were ready -“How can I help you?” being blazoned in white letters on the backs of their issued dress - at how tired they appeared, how fatigue showed on their faces, resigned to another day’s struggle at times, walking about in tennis shoes on the concrete floors of the huge warehouse of modern conveniences, their manner not unlike a poor workhorse pushed to its limits in the cold of winter, its owner knowing that it cannot last much longer, determined to get as much out of the hapless animal as its bones and hoofs can withstand.

The cart man was busy pushing an array of empty carts outside for customers to grab before entering the store; other men were heaving to get a few remaining riding lawn mowers out the main entrance from where the machines had been stored overnight. Up and down the aisles (Louis noticed much of the holiday merchandise was gone, but the poinsettias were in abundance with no price reductions so far) lone men - mostly men alone that morning, many looking quite successful, others looking like down-and-out struggling contractors with criminal records who would never pass the background checks the store required of its employees and with little idea how they would pay for what they needed to complete some client’s less-than-urgent project - the miracles of modern technology were showcased. The latest florescent bulbs to replace the old standard incandescent that the energy-conscious consumers of the day shunned like out-of-fashion clearance clothes from a bargain basement; the most machine-perfect gadgets, drills, screwdrivers, power tools of the most ingenious making; ceramic tiles in all shades, samples of marble in luxurious variety for those willing to pay for its permanence and quality in their entry halls and foyers.

Oversized bilingual signs hung everywhere, saying that America had arrived at a intersection with language history.

Along the doorways, at the entrances to each aisle and section, one after another - thanking the customers, describing each display, alerting the buyer to the latest bargain, English with Spanish translations underneath.

FLOORING

PISOS

DECORATIVE LIGHTING

- LUCES DECORATIVA

CUSTOMER SERVICE

SERVICIO AL CLIENTE

Larry headed first to the appliance section, where they found gleaming stainless steel French double door refrigerators starting at $2,500, computerized as were most of the stoves, dishwashers, ovens, washers and dryers.

“What did you think we need?” Louis asked as Larry studied some quartz surface countertops, the textures with names like Sapporo, Oahu, Palermo, Odessa, Santiago, Vienna, Oro Noir, Tenerife.

“This is better than granite,” Larry said, nodding in approval as he put his hands on the showroom samples.

“I don’t mind the aqua ceramic tiles we have,” Louis said.

“But this quartz stuff would be much easier to keep up. Why don’t we get a completely new kitchen?” Larry asked.

“If you’re paying for it.”

Before long, a tanned salesman in t-shirt, the company vest, and knee-length shorts as was the customary outfit for many of the sales and customer service employees throughout the center, even on cold days, came over and introduced himself.

Larry began asking how much per square foot, how much for installation, how soon it could be delivered, how heavy, the guarantees, the warranty, the entire time with Louis looking somewhat taken aback wondering how their lives would be disrupted with workmen in the kitchen ripping out the old counter installing the new.

Larry asked Louis to talk with him in private a moment so they walked around to an area with samples of custom cabinets.

“Wouldn’t you like something new in the kitchen?”

“I’d love it, but who will be home when these guys install everything?”

“Good point,” Larry said.

“What if the NSA recruits one of their installers and he pokes through our library when we’re gone. That guy said it would be a two day job and we’d have to move everything.”

“Okay, buddy,” Larry said. “Let’s slow down. You’re saying it’s not the best idea for now.”

“You could say that, yes,” Louis said, feeling much younger than just four years Larry’s junior. “You’re quite a lawyer, you know. You could have had your way in this if you’d wanted.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. So it’s not the time for the emotional and practical appeal of quartz countertops manufactured from quartz crystals with ten-year limited warranty in the McIntire and O‘Connor residence, huh?”

“Yes. I mean no. You’re sure in a good mood today.”

Larry shrugged his shoulders and proceeded to find the same salesman and within fifteen minutes had purchased a double door French refrigerator, new energy-efficient stainless steel oven, and new high-end washer and gas dryer, almost before Louis could blink, who did nod in agreement each time Larry said the prices were right and why not update and store the older appliances in the garage for now. “We’ve gotta get this, Lou, okay?”

“Okay, okay, okay.”

“We’ve got to this too, Lou, okay?”

“Okay okay.”

Larry paid for it all with an instore Project Credit Card, the salesman saying that it would all be delivered the following morning, and that it should not take more than an hour to get it all in place, with the delivery men also to move the old models to the garage or to dispose of them at no extra cost.

“We’re modernized,” Larry said.

“So we are,” Louis said, still feeling rather dazed as they drove back home for lunch. “Why?”

“Updating will greatly improve the chances of getting a good price when we sell the house, mon ami,” Larry said. “No long drawn-out remodel with workmen messing around for two days, just in and out with super efficient, the very latest in everything.”

“I thought we were just looking for a place on the river. I mean just looking. Are we going to move soon or something?”

“Wait until you see the place I read about this afternoon.”

On the drive back home, Louis asked Larry if he minded listening to the noon broadcast of Hudson Elsmere Pembroke.

“He’s rather off center you know,” Larry said.

“I know that, but he’s got lots worth hearing,” Louis said.

“Okay, you might as well turn him on.”

The broadcast had already been on several minutes as Pembroke continued:

It was a time when common sense dictated not throwing in one’s shoes and giving up, whether in politics, warmongering, or finding electricity on a cold winter’s night.

Louis noticed Larry frowning. “I could listen using the earphones if you’d like,” Louis said.

“No. That’s okay.”

Pembroke continued. Someone’s not playing with a full deck as in impeach the halls with calls for holly ole blogger himself to falla the leader and do like Elliott the spit in your face.

“Are you sure this guy doesn’t have a hole in his head?” Larry asked smiling.

“I wish he wouldn’t get carried away like that, I know,” Lois said.

Hey, do we really want America like a barefoot maiden in the peasant days of yore, warily fording a stream carrying her little bundle of joy, the American economy, on her shoulder as she tries to make it to town on market day to sell the little cameo the landlord gave her as a present? All this while the fat and sassy wine tasters who own most of the world approve the contents of the barrel and I don’t mean the barrel of aging vintage claret.

“Definitely original,” Larry said as he pulled into their driveway, the automatic garage door coming up. He pulled in beside one of Louis’s two cars and they went inside to lunch.

A search on the Internet had shown Larry two major things about Potomac real estate: first, that a large house on acreage along the river might be listed at over $10,000,000, such as one with over 11,000 square feet - a contemporary design with the following amenities:

Remarks: Prime close-in location just across the bridge from DC. Fabulous one of a kind river front property on McLean's Gold Coast. 6.5 acres on two lots of breathtakingly beautiful views.

11, 000 sq ft. contemporary residence

Stories: 2

Year Built: 1968

Exterior: Shingle

Roofing: Cedar/Shake

Windows/Doors: Screens, Six Panel Doors, Sliding Glass Dr,

Wood Frame Walls/Ceilings: Beamed Ceilings, Cathedral Ceilings, Plaster Walls, 9'+ Ceilings, 2 Story Ceilings

Outbuildings: Above Grade

Garage Description: 2 Car Garage, Attached Parking: Garage Roads: City/County Heat Type: Electric Heat Source: Baseboard Air Conditioning: Electric Central A/C

Hot Water: Electric

Lake Name: POTOMAC RIVER

Body of Water: POTOMAC RIVER

Water Features: Navigable Water, Property Against Water, Water View

Water: Public Sewer: Septic Acres: 6.52

Lot Description: Landscaping, Lot Premium, Trees/Wooded, Water Access, Water Front, Water View Zoning: 110

FEATURES & AMENITIES: Fireplace: Y

Exterior Features: Balcony, Deck, Hot Tub, Udrgrd Lwn Sprnklr, Patio, Pool (In-Ground), Tennis Court(s),

Terrace Amenities: Auto Gar Dr Opn, Bidet, Built-in Bookcases, Cedar Closet, Drapery Rods, Drapes/Curtains, Entry Lvl BR, FP Mantels, MBA/Sep Shwr, MBA/Sep Tub, MBR-BA Full, Sauna, Shades/Blinds, Walk-in Closet(s), Wet Bar/Bar, Wood Floors, Wpool Jets, W/W Carpeting Appliances: Dishwasher, Disposal, Dryer, Exhaust Fan, Oven-Double, Oven-Wall, Refrigerator, Trash Compactor, Washer Handicap:

Other, Ramp-Main Lvl

Property Against Water: Yes

Tv/Cable/Comm: CATV/Dwelling, Multiple Phone Lines Virtual Yes

ROOM INFORMATION: Main Entrance: Foyer Total Full Baths: 8 Total 1/2 Baths: 4

Other Rooms: Den/Stdy/Lib, 2nd Family Room, Game/Exer Rm, In-Law/auPair/Ste, Laundry-BR Lvl, Laundry-Kit Lvl, Lndry-Sep Rm, MBR w/Sit Rm, Maids Rm/Quart, Main Lvl BR, Recreation Room, Storage Room, Utility Room

Lower Floor - Baths: 1

Lower Floor - Bedrooms: 3

Main Floor Baths: 5

Main Floor Bedrooms: 7

Main Floor Half Baths:

FINANCIAL INFORMATION: Listing Price: $13,500,000 Annual Taxes: $78,416

Ownership: Fee Simple

Tax Year: 2007

The taxes would run somewhat less than Larry’s annual salary had been working with the Congressman.

“That much and only a two-car garage?” Louis had remarked.

“We could add on,” Larry said.

Fifteen million dollars would get the purchaser 9 bedrooms and 9 baths with 30,000 square feet, including these amenities:

Stately 30, 000 square foot English Tudor Manor home overlooking the James River is carefully situated on 56+ acres and nestled among rolling lawns and English gardens. Quality detailed construction featuring historic wood and stone appointments dating to the 1600's and a Concrete Tiled Roof. Other notable features include a spectacular grand hall, tavern area, an elevator, library, multi-car gar

Property Type: Residential - Detached Listing Status: Active Style: Tudor Stories: 2 Year Built: 1995 Exterior: Stone, Wood Roofing: Composite, Rubber Windows/Doors: Bay/Bow Windows, Six Panel Doors Walls/Ceilings: 2 Story Ceilings, Beamed Ceilings, Plaster Walls, Vaulted Ceilings Garage Description: 4 Car, Garage, Attached Parking: Covered Parking, DW - Circular, Garage Roads: Concrete Heat Type: Electric Heat Source: Heat Pump(s), Zoned Air Conditioning: Electric Heat Pump(s), Zoned Hot Water: Electric, Multi-tank Lake Name: JAMES RIVER Body of Water: JAMES RIVER Water Features: Navigable Water, Property Against Water, Water Access, Water View Water: Well Sewer: Septic Acres: 46.28 Lot Description: Landscaping, Trees/Wooded, Water Access, Water View Zoning: A2 FEATURES & AMENITIES: Fireplace: Y Exterior Features: Balcony, Stone Retaining Walls, Terrace, Udrgrd Lwn Sprnklr, Underground Utilities, Water Fountains Amenities: Attic-Floored, Auto Gar Dr Opn, Built-in Bookcases, Crown Molding, Fireplace Equip., FP Mantels, MBA/Sep Shwr, MBA/Sep Tub, MBR-BA Full, Master Walk-in Closet, Sauna, Walk-in Closet(s), Washer/Dryer Hookup, Wet Bar/Bar, Wood Floors Appliances: Dishwasher, Disposal, Dryer, Freezer, Humidifier, Icemaker, Microwave, Other, Oven/Range-Gas, Refrigerator, Six burner stove, Stove Handicap: 32"+ wide doors, 36"+ wide Halls

Parking Included in List Price: Y

Property Against Water: Yes

Madeline and Augustus were sitting on the kitchen counter waiting for their lunch. Louis opened a can of cat food - salmon flavor - and put a few spoonfuls onto their plastic bowls. He sat down to glance at the mail, which Larry had brought in, including bulk mail from a car dealer, another ad from a retirement center.

Louis checked his email on his cell phone and noticed a message from Calvin Benderman, a young playwright who had met Louis in Boston in 2004 due to their mutual efforts opposing the war in Iraq.

Calvin had married Mark Alexander, one of the organizers of the peaceforiraq.net coalition influential in the Northeast anti-war movement. With a chance to be a playwright-in-residence at a renowned Worcester area repertory theatre, Calvin and Mark had moved there in 2007.

Calvin’s email began.

“Greetings for the holidays and the New Year. We have much underway, both in the theatre and in Mark’s new work with a non-profit group helping war refugees relocate to the U.S.

“Regards, Calvin.”

Oh that’s rough, Louis thought. No power in all that cold. I’ll have to send him an answer right away. Sad, strange with all that sort of suffering in the world, how the fraudsters and war criminals and child molesters can live with themselves and their sins.”

He went into the library, calling out to Larry that Mark and Calvin were among those with no power, and sat down at his computer with ergonomic wireless keyboard - with new gull wing design featuring a 14-degree gable, a natural arc, and a curved key bed bringing the keys closer to his fingers, thus reducing reach and unnecessary motion, also equipped with an optional palm lift for a seven-degree reverse slope and a cushioned wrist rest - and typed a reply.

“Dear Calvin,

Larry came in saying that lunch was ready.

“Lawrence,” Louis said.

“Lawrence? This must be serious.”

“Is there something we could do for the organization Mark is working with?”

“You mean another contribution?”

“Yes.”

“I’d be glad too. You’re thinking it will boost Mark’s spirits while they’re struggling without power.”

“Something like that.

“Sure, only you didn’t need to ask me like it was an imposition,” Larry said.

“I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I didn’t think you’d object.“

“How much?” Larry asked.

“Could you give them a thousand? I can donate two hundred.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

“I hope New England Power gets the lights back on for them soon too,” Larry said.

“It’s something else. Worst ice storm in New England in ten years.”

They went into lunch, with Louis mentioning that he had heard from another anti-war activist living in Tulsa, Patrick Conway, earlier that year, about the ice storm that had shut down most of Tulsa for several days in December 2007, leaving even the airport without power and all flights cancelled. “He said it was literally like a war zone, or a tsunami had hit. The ugliest mess all over Tulsa he had ever seen, wretched trees split in half but the weight of all that ice, a tremendous amount of ice, months before it was all cleared away, street curbs laden with huge limbs, the tree trimming services working nonstop for days.”

Larry then mentioned that, “I talked with one guy with Homeland Security last Christmas who said his family lived in Tulsa and that he was flying home and that they told him to be prepared as it was quite a shock how such a beautiful city could be ravaged, and that it looked like a war zone.”

As they prepared their lunches, having let the cats outside for exercise, Dimitrije was arriving on his motorcycle at the Free Language Institute. He parked it in the lot and walked inside, dressed in his dark vinyl jacket, jeans, and a long-sleeve green pullover of acrylic and cotton.

“Dobar dan,” he called out the greeting of good afternoon in Serbian to the receptionist.

“Dobar dan,” she said smiling. “Your class is meeting in Room D.”

“Hvala,” he said walking on down the hall. Thank you in Serbian.

Inside room D, there were about ten other immigrants, mostly from Eastern Europe including one new student, a dark-haired man about thirty-one years of age, rather burly, about six feet two inches tall, a few tattoos on his arms visible as he was wearing a golden tan knit shirt and black slacks, black shoes. He smelt of cigarette odor and Dimitrije thought his look rather cold, although courteous in manner with everyone.

Yvonne, the teacher, a woman in her mid-forties with light blonde hair, trim figure, a mother of three who worked full-time at the institute and who lived in southern Maryland, greeted the class warmly.

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

“Good afternoon,” most of them said in response, one in Roumanian, another in Polish.

“I know how excited you all are so let’s have some fun. You’ll find handouts at each of your seats for today’s lesson. And aren’t you all getting a fast track to the American dream with today’s lesson?”

“Fast track?” a young woman from Bulgaria asked.

“Quick and easy,” Dimitrije said.

“Exactly,” Yvonne said.

“So if you’ll read along with me, we’re learning more today about the command tense in English. All right? Everyone aloud now, and with energy since when you’re talking money in America, we really mean it.”

“We mean it in Poland,” another young man said.

“Show me the money. Show him the money. Show us the money. Show them the money. Show her the money. Show the money to me. Show the money to him. Show the money to us…..”

She went on to explain the indirect object pronoun could also be used with “to….”

“Invest your money wisely. Invest your money now. Invest with ethical advisers only. Invest after checking out the alternatives.

“Now, Dimitrije promised to tell us something about how they talk about money in Serbian. Are you ready, Dimitrije?”