"Don't count your chips before they stack."
——————
"Fear and greed…" Dominic said.
He was sitting on a waiting bench inside a luxurious office space. His crisp navy blue suit harmonized with the leather briefcase lying in his lap, creating the illusion of a successful middle-aged businessman in queue to discuss banking matters.
*Tap* *Tap*
His fingers tapped on the suitcase in slow casual rhythm. It was like a percussion drum, creating a score to the scene before him. A story was being told. Each tap helped bring the story to life for a certain viewer, while also causing a ripple in the illusion, helping the viewer understand an important thing—this was no longer reality. The dozen people in the office were actors in a mirage. The only difference between any of them was if they knew it.
Joey sat next to Dominic. His short legs swung in the air underneath the bench, coordinating with the rhythm of the tapping, adding an extra layer of dancers to the musical in his head.
Dominic spoke. "Everyone's weaknesses can be boiled down to fear and greed. First, it starts with somethin' they want. When that want becomes too strong, it becomes a need. But a need is dangerous. A need has consequences. If you don't get that need…somethin' snaps."
He pointed to a middle-aged obese man in an expensive suit, who sat at the visitor's side of an antique mahogany desk. Across from him was a posh older fellow with glasses, the manager of this establishment. They were in the middle of laughing, carefree and arrogant, as if they were the only two people around.
*Tap* *Tap* Dominic's fingers pulsed as if moving to the rhythm of that obese man's speech and body motions, as if they were attached to strings, as if he was a puppeteer.
Dominic continued. "That man there…he believes he needs somethin'. Food, water, shelter, he ain't lackin'. So he doesn't think about 'em. He's elevated what his basic needs are, you see. This new need, it's all he thinks about, the center of his world, everything. If he doesn't get it…"
Dominic shook his head. "The cost of not gettin' that, it consumes him, stabbin' at the back of his mind all day like a woodpecker. He thinks about it like you would think about air if someone held you down underwater. He'll drown without that need. That's fear, you see..."
Joey watched the obese man as sweat developed on his forehead. His laughter carried nervous undertones, the stink of impatience.
Dominic's face became solemn. "He's afraid now, panicked. He's felt that fear before. He feels it often...because when he gets some of that need, he becomes even more afraid. What if he loses it? It's become so important to him. So he needs more…as much as he can…to feel safe…to appease that beast."
Dominic looked at Joey. "He's doesn't realize he's fed that need, helping it grow. He gave it claws and fangs and terrifying eyes. Yet it lives inside him. He's locked himself in a cage with it...That's greed, you see."
Joey grinned as he stared at Dominic with rapt attention. He enjoyed when his dad told him stories like this.
Dominic smiled, returning his glance to the obese man. "…He's become a slave to that need. He can't lose it, and he can't get enough either. That need has become his fear, his greed, his god…"
*Tap* *Tap* *Tap*
The pace of Dominic's fingers sped up. "The man is no longer a man. He can't think. He doesn't see himself for what he is. He doesn't see reality, even when it's crumblin' around him."
The obese man at the desk was raving with laughter. He lifted a briefcase by his chair and placed it onto the desk as the old man watched with poise. The obese man couldn't wait to open it, unlocking it with urgency and turning it to face the old man, like an eager puppy seeking his master's approval.
There was nothing more important than this deal to the obese man. The returns! He couldn't stop dreaming about those amazing returns! His last two deposits with this agency had given him a taste he'd become addicted to. He could no longer restrain himself. What if this opportunity disappeared? What if someone else took his place? He'd done the calculations. The returns equaled 10 years' worth of income! There was no time for hesitation! He would invest it all!
*Tap* *Tap* *Tap* *Tap*
The old man browsed over the inside of the suitcase in a calm manner. He nodded and made a phone call while handing over documents to the obese man to sign.
The obese man's hands shook as he signed the papers at record speed. He gave the occasional impatient glimpse to the old man, who was laughing with the speaker at the other end of the phone, as if this deal was a trifling matter. Finished, the obese man panted with a tense smile as he stared at the old man, waiting for him to finish his call.
*Tap* *Tap* *Tap* *Tap* *Tap*
When the old man put down the phone, the obese man pushed the contract over, gulping in eager anticipation. The old man reviewed the documents, before looking the obese man in the eyes, offering him a million dollar smile, and nodding with confidence. They stood up and shook hands, once again filling the room with uproarious laughter. The old man walked him to the front of the building, feeding him promises and fairy tales.
*Tap*
Dominic's hand stopped tapping. The show was over. "Fear and greed Joey boy. Find 'em, create 'em, fan the flames, then use 'em to get what you want. But don't ever be dumb enough to believe that thing you want…is a thing you need."
Several minutes later, the old man returned inside, shutting the front door behind him. As soon as he did, the office became a scramble. The dozen people inside took off their attire, removing items and documents at a fevered pace. Joey waited on the bench as he watched Dominic shake hands with the old man, before the two of them entered a private office with the obese man's briefcase.
Five minutes later, the vast bustling office space was empty, as if it had always been from the beginning.
***
Joey awoke from his memory.
*Tap* *Tap*
He took a deep breath as he felt his senses become more attuned to the rhythmic tapping. That sound was the voice of the chips…colliding under the control of the hands of the players--the musicians of this orchestra. Joey heard another tapping in his mind as well, from another place--the hands of the conductor.
Joey peered at the drunk tourist. '…Puppetmaster…I see you.'