Free Dumb Luck by Lesley Choyce Page B

your father has explained to me about the business you two will be starting. I assume you’re okay with all this?”
    I think I hesitated for just a second. Then I looked at my dad. He was looking straight at me. “Sure,” I finally said. What was the point in owning up to any doubts now?
    â€œAnd the loan?”
    I looked at my dad. He’d mentioned the loan but we hadn’t really discussed it, and I didn’t exactly know why I was part of it. My dad saw the confusion on my face.
    â€œThe loan,” he began. “I need more than $60,000 to start the business properly, Brandon.”
    â€œThen why didn’t you just ask for all the money?” I blurted out. Not that I really wanted to be any deeper into this. I just didn’t know why he needed even more money.
    â€œWell,” he said. “Because it is your money. You’re putting up enough. We borrow the rest from the bank.”
    â€œAnd your investments,” Cranmore added as he leaned in my direction, “will act as collateral for the loan.”
    I didn’t understand the word “collateral” but decided not to show off my ignorance.
    â€œI didn’t want to use the house for that,” my dad added.
    I wondered why this hadn’t been fully discussed. I was thinking now of those lottery disaster stories now. Some of those winners had borrowed money—despite the fact that they had millions. Why were we borrowing money?
    â€œHow much is the loan?” I asked Cranmore instead of my dad.
    â€œA hundred,” he said.
    â€œA hundred?”
    â€œThousand,” my dad added, looking at my uncertainty.
    Cranmore cleared his throat and looked at me. “You’ll have to sign for withdrawal of the sixty and then on the loan for the hundred. And then we’re going to talk about how you begin to make money on your money. That’s the fun part.”
    The fun part? I knew I was in way over my head and was pissed at my father for not fully explaining what this was all about. But I had to trust him, right? He was my father. And I didn’t want to embarrass him or me—showing off my lack of knowledge. And this was a reputable bank, right? It wasn’t like we were borrowing from a loan shark. And I didn’t want to use my home as—what was it?—collateral.
    â€œIf he ... or we ... can’t pay back the loan, then what?” I asked.
    â€œThat won’t happen, Brandon,” my dad said.
    â€œBut suppose it did?” I asked Len.
    â€œThen the bank would accept some of your investments to cover it.”
    â€œAccept” seemed like the wrong word. But I got the point.
    â€œAnd we pay the bank interest on what’s borrowed?”
    â€œThat’s correct,” Cranmore said. “But because you are one of our preferred clients, we can give you just two points over prime.”
    Two points over prime? He made it sound like “the bank” was doing us a huge favor.
    I felt a little like I did at school so often, when I’d be taking a test in something and I’d read the question and didn’t have the slightest clue as to what it was asking. It was like that. I sensed a wave of panic rising up in me and then I looked at my father.
    He looked at me, nervous and hopeful. This was his dream. His big break. He’d been talking about “getting lucky” all my life. I couldn’t back down now.
    â€œI’m good with all that,” I said.
    â€œGreat,” Cranmore said. “Here’s the paperwork for you to sign. You can take it home first and read it if you want.”
    I turned to my dad, “You’ve already read all this?”
    He sheepishly nodded, yes.
    â€œThen I’m cool.” And I signed everything—four copies of each. One for me. One for my dad. Two for the bank. Cranmore seemed pretty happy about everything.
    â€œNow for the fun part,” he said.
    I was wondering if there would