[Short Story] - Black Market

“Really, Tom? You’ve got trillions of dollars and you can’t even spare five thousand for your own brother? Shame on you!” My brother, Josh, yelled at me in the middle of the traditional family reunion.

He had been broke since forever and had been begging us, his family, for money for as long as I can remember. He was younger than me and as spoiled as one can be. He was used to getting what he wanted without even asking for it first. Hell, even I had to please him all the time and do all the work around the house instead of him. He wasn’t stupid by any means, though, only lazy and uninterested in anything that required more than 5 minutes of his attention, and very bad with money.

“We talked about this, Josh. Several times. I offered you to come work for me, and you denied every time. For the last time, I’m not going to just give you money. I’m not going to fuel your laziness and your mindless shopping,” I pointed at his designer shirt that he bought not long ago when he could’ve saved that money, or used it to buy something he actually needed. “You can come work for me and I’ll pay you well but I’m not giving you money just like that.”

“I don’t want to work for you. Or anyone else!” He got very irritated. “I want my own business and other people to work for me,” he cooled down in an instant and lowered his head first, then his voice. “I want what you have.”

“Well,” I chuckled. I had to try very hard not to burst out laughing and ridicule him. “It’s not that hard. You only need three things, really. Hard work, courage, and an idea. Do you see yourself as courageous and hardworking?” I didn’t want to kill his dreams, but also didn’t want to give him false hope.

“Not at the moment, no, but I am determined to improve.” My jaw dropped when I heard him say that, and I couldn’t help myself but only stare at him. “But an idea… I don’t really have a good idea. I try to pursue everything all at once and as a result don’t do anything the way I should. If only I knew what to focus on.” I kept staring at him still–it was as if it wasn’t my brother speaking. “Do you have an idea I could use? I’d take that over working for you.”

I needed a while to gather myself again. The way he spoke was exactly the way I spoke 24 years ago when I started my first business.

I decided to let him in on some information that has changed my life and held the potential to change his as well. “Okay, listen.” I could hardly speak with the excitement of what I was going to tell him. Of what doors I was to unlock for him. “You said you want an idea, right?” I waited for him to nod, then continued. “What if I told you that you can buy it?”

“Seriously?” He raised his voice again. “You’re trying to sell me an idea, not even give it to me? Way to milk your brother of his last cents, Tom.”

“No, no, you got me all wrong.” I grabbed him by the hand just as he was about to leave. “Listen. You know me. You know all my ideas suck. And they always sucked. Right? I didn’t come up with my business using my ideas, Josh. Be honest with me, do you really think it was my idea to start a car wash? And do you really think it was my idea to start a washing machine business after that, just a couple months before the great Washpool made a critical error and went bankrupt? Washing machines, Josh!” I grabbed him by his shoulders and shook him. “Washing machines! Would you ever have thought washing machines were a good idea? No! And neither would I! That’s because it wasn’t my idea in the first place–I bought it! ”

“Wait, wait, wait. You lost me. What do you mean you bought it?” He was just as dumbfounded as I was mere moments ago when he reminded me of my younger self.

“There’s a market not many know about. A black market.” I lowered my voice to a hush and told him to follow me inside so nobody could hear us. “It’s not the one where you can buy guns or drugs, but one where you can buy ideas. See, when somebody dies, all their unachieved dreams and ideas go to the black market for others to purchase. That’s how the people who we believe to be the greatest minds in human history got their ideas. They bought them.” I could see he was in complete shock, just staring at me. “Look, anyone can come up with a great idea, but where these people mostly fail is courage and hard work. They don’t have the balls to pursue those ideas or the discipline to work hard for them. The greatest scientists and businessmen of the world, Josh, are dumb. Like me. We have the courage and are willing to work hard, but we lack imagination.” By the expression on his face I could tell he kind of understood the concept, so I continued. “And better still, the price tells you how great an idea is. The better the idea, the higher the price. Easy. That’s how you always know you’re chasing the right thing. Want to know how much I spent for the washing machine idea? One million. One million dollars. Yeah, let that sink in. I took the biggest loan I could and I went with it. I put everything I had on it. Everything. I could’ve ended on the streets if it went wrong, but I went with it and made millions and millions of dollars. Why? Courage and hard work, Josh, courage and hard work.”

“But who sets the price?” He asked after having vacantly stared at me in silence for almost half a minute.

“Nobody knows,” I chuckled. “But it’s never wrong. At least it wasn’t with me and the people I know.”

“Okay…” I could tell he was both interested and hesitant. “What exactly do you know about the idea before you purchase it? Do you at least know the category it belongs in?”

“Yeah. You know the category, so you know if you’re buying something related to physics, economy, outer space, … You also know who owned the idea before and who came up with it, but that rarely matters. Oh, a fun fact. You know who’s really behind all the illegal business? It’s not the mafia like you’ve been led to believe, but the government institutions. They need funding outside of the government funds to be able to afford ideas from the black market because they can’t spend the country’s money there. Pretty awesome, right?”

“How much did the car wash idea cost you?” He shot out before I could tell him another fun fact. With that question he made it clear he was interested.

“Fifteen thousand. I took a loan for that one too.” I chuckled again.

“Damn! You really do have the balls. Are you saving up for any new purchases?”

“Yep. The biggest one there is. It’s in the life category, and I think part of its price comes from the fact so many people have already purchased it but haven’t fulfilled it.”

“Oh, wow, who is it from?”

“That’s the greatest mystery there is. It’s the only idea nobody knows who it is from. What we do know, though, is who had already had it, and that’s the most interesting part. Near all of the greatest minds in history had bought it, but apparently didn’t make anything of it before they died.” I realized then I might’ve told him too much of my intentions. It was information not to be trusted to anyone, not even my brother. “Anyway, I can take you there if you want.” I changed the subject as fast as I could.

“Yes, please! I’d love that!” I could see a fire light up in his eyes.

“Next Saturday, and make sure you suit up, okay?” I waited until he nodded. “Now let’s head back to the party and have ourselves a drink.”

I took him to the black market next Saturday as I promised, and he loved it. He had brought $1.000 with him–which was all he had had–and because I couldn’t help but be ecstatic about it myself, I gave him another $14.000 and helped him purchase an idea worth $15.000–the same value of my first purchase.

Judging by his mood on the way back, he liked what he got and was determined to make it come true. I was overjoyed to see my brother with such enthusiasm about work for the first time in his life–so determined to make his life better.

We talked some more about his future, and the potential partnership between our businesses at some point in time, then went separate ways and didn’t hear from each other for half a year–it was usual for us to only hear from each other on family meetings, and I also wanted to give him some time alone to work on his newly obtained idea.

In that half a year we didn’t communicate I had bought the most expensive of all ideas, and loved it. It was as challenging as can be, yet at the same time very simple. Something you’d think anyone could think of, but with a twist just big enough to be out of everyone’s reach.

When the date was exactly half a year after we last spoke, I decided to call him and arrange a meeting. He was very formal when we spoke and I couldn’t help but feel proud–he was out of his financial debt at last, and running his own business. We agreed to meet the next day.

I took a taxi to his house and brought three bottles of the finest champagne I could find. I wanted to celebrate the occasion. I finally had the brother I had always wanted.

When I arrived, though, his house looked exactly the same as it did half a year ago. I thought to myself that by then he’d at least have cleaned the place up, but he didn’t. I brushed it off as him just being too busy with his business.

He invited me inside and sat me down on his couch while he went to get the glasses for us and some ice for the champagne–at least that was what he told me. In reality, however, he went to the kitchen to retrieve his pistol that he pointed at me the moment he returned.

I knew immediately what it was all about. It was about the mistake I had made half a year ago when I mentioned to him I wanted to purchase the greatest of all ideas.

It was common practice for the people who bought it to be executed just so it would return to the black market for another person to be able to purchase it. Millions of dollars given to the person that knew who bought the said idea, and millions of dollars for the person who’d kill them. Even I was willing to pay good money to get the idea back to the black market if someone had snatched it before me.

“I see. I see.” I shook my head. “I bet Johnny Woods promised you a couple million if you shoot me after you told him I bought the idea. Well, guess what! I didn’t! Someone bought it a week before I could!” I tried lying my way out of it.

“No matter. I’m still getting half, even if it wasn’t you.”

“I’ll give you five times his money then! Name your price!” I would’ve said anything at that point. I knew he truly would go as far as shooting his own brother for money.

“Too late. It’s a high enough number for me to live happily for the rest of my life.”

“Look at you! Just look at you! Again looking for the fast way out, you lazy prick. You think Johnny will just let you walk away after you’re done with me here? Just how stupid are you?” At that point I knew I was practically already dead. Any further attempt wouldn’t have changed my brother’s mind. If money didn’t, nothing would.

“Oh, shut up already. You’ve had your chance to help me.”

“But I did help yo–”

The last thing I remember is closing my eyes and hearing the ringing in my ears.