Gelt Without Guilt
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AMAZON REVIEW: “I loved this book. Richard Brumer, who is the author of beautifully written novels such as The Chemist's Shop, Meeting Max and The Last Sunrise, has changed course with this hysterical romp about two elderly gentlemen who invent a new way to get rich. Jack and David believe there has to be more to life than sitting on the beach and watching pretty girls while lamenting their lost youth. Can having more money buy them happiness?” Original and hugely funny—$2.99
Richard Brumer
A freelance writer of novellas and short stories
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Gelt Without Guilt - Richard Brumer
Gelt without Guilt
Copyright 2013 Richard Brumer
All rights reserved
Gelt without Guilt
Richard Brumer
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
Gelt without Guilt
is a work of fiction. All characters, places and incidents are used fictionally, and are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, businesses, companies, events, locales is coincidental.
No animals were harmed in the writing of this book.
For my wife
The Story of Noah?
The main point is, did God tell him to make a boat, or did Noah just use his captain common sense?
Cause there are a number of us, if we were somewhere where it was raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining, and we had a big pile of wood, some of us might put two and two together and go, I’m gonna make a bloody boat!
Others might go, I’m gonna make a hairdresser’s
, I’m gonna build a monkey emporium.
, I’m gonna build a big pair of wooden shoes, that would fit a giant.
But he made a boat.
Oh, he was quite sensible! And what did he put on the boat? His family. What else? Animals. Which animals? Any he could find. Did he put two of every animal in the world on the boat? No! How can I be so sure? Try it!"
- Eddie Izzard-
Table of Contents
Chapter One…Two Old Guys on the Beach
Chapter Two…Meeting Finklestein the Atheist
Chapter Three…The plot thickens
Chapter Four…The Closer
Chapter Five…Hong Kong
Chaoter Six…Eating and drinking Champagne
Chapter Seven…Top of the Mountain
Chapter Eight…The Riviera
Chapter Nine…Florida
Chapter One
Two Old Guys at the Beach
Small waves splashed across their bare feet as Jack and David walked along the beach and talked about how they would solve the world’s problems. They grew up as best friends in the Bronx, or as it was called by its inhabitants, Da Bronx. Everyone was Jewish and crime hadn’t been invented yet. They didn’t have computers, or color TV—didn’t have black and white TV either. In fact, they didn’t have any TV. Television as a word in those days was only known to a select few.
They did have radio, their imaginations, and above all, they had their friends. Now they lived in Florida.
Jack and David walked back to their beach chairs as the wet sand stuck to their feet like cement. They sat and talked.
Yeah, those were better days,
Jack said as he swept away some of the sand in front of him and put his feet in cooler territory. Our political system is broken, we’re involved in unnecessary wars, and we don’t stick together as a nation. We’re divided. Either you’re in the red camp or the blue one, and you and I are too old to do anything about it. Let’s face it, Jack said,
we’re closer to the end than the beginning."
Hey, we’re still breathing,
David replied, that’s exciting enough. In and out in and out."
Stop with the sex talk,
Jack said with a wide grin. It gets me excited. I could use a little sex in my life.
"At your age, a little could be too much."
Why do you say that?
"Sex could kill you."
"Oy vey, what a way to go. It would take me straight to heaven."
Jack, do you really want to have sex with your wife again? Maybe Millie feels she’s beyond that point. I mean you’re eighty-one.
"It’s been awhile, I know. What we shared happened so long ago that I forgot what Millie and I did together. Not only that, but I forgot that I had forgotten it. I could use a little shtupping."
So, what’s stopping you?
Millie wouldn’t allow it. She said I should get a job, earn some money, and stop thinking about feeling her. She reminded me we only have Social Security to live on. It’s all you have too David. It ain’t easy. But I’m still breathing, and my eyes work,
Jack said as his gaze drifted toward a slim young thing gyrating her way toward her beach towel.
We have to think of something to get our minds going again,
David said, as rubbing the whiskers on his chin. "Social Security doesn’t cut it, and our bodies—forget about them. Shriveling is more like it. But between the two of us, we have one good brain—well one brain anyway. We have to make some money, Jack. Not just some money but a lot of it, and we still have time to do it before we wither away. Any ideas?"
"Wait, don’t say nothing. I have an image of Millie in my mind from long ago. She looked a lot better when we got married. Sixty years could make a difference. She was my ideal woman, and had the two qualities I wanted.
What?
David asked.
Not too smart and drop dead gorgeous.
Come back to earth, Jack. That was then and this is now. She doesn’t need your dried, wrinkled sandpaper hands all over her. I’m serious, we’re not dead yet, but I’d like us to have a ton of money and live like kings before we’re off to the other world.
You’re right, David. We do need a few more bucks. I’m ready. I know you have something in mind, tell me.
We need a new religion.
You’re crazy. Let’s get back to sex,
Jack said, his eyes glued on the sweet young thing who had stripped down to her string bikini, lay face down on her towel, and unclasped her top.
"We’ve already covered sex," David said.
"Uncovering is what we should be talking about," carving a shape of a woman’s figure in the air with his hands.
Okay, one more time,
David said, heaving a deep breath. Let’s talk about sex from Millie’s point of view and put it behind us so we can go on to other things. Think about it. First, you’re almost bald. Second, you have a huge potbelly. Third, you can’t see or hear that well. Fourth, your skin is wrinkled and looks like crap. Fifth, you have a heart condition, and you’re on your fourth pacemaker. Sixth, you take nitroglycerin so you can’t use Viagra, and seventh, Millie has had six kids and enough sex. Does that sum it up?
"I’m not that bald."
True, the few white strands you meticulously comb over your forehead are still noticeable—but only when you get close.
But a new religion, David?
What are you thinking? Am I in the middle of some kind of Seinfeld episode? An entirely new religion? Why? I’m a Jew. I’m happy with the little religion I have in my life. I’m not going to change. Let’s go back to sex."
David took a deep breath. Forget sex, it’s not going to happen. It’s over—finished. Let’s not talk about the impossible—even if you did want to risk it with Viagra, some things just stay limp and never return. Did you ever hear of software?
"I’m only eighty-one years old, Jack replied with a shrug. That’s not too old. I still have a few sexy dreams. Does that count for the real thing?
In your case, yes! Be happy with it. It’s more than dead people have. Remember our friend, Handsome Harry? The girls loved him. They wore him out. But he’s dead at the present time. He’s got nothing. You told me that you still get a fleeting glimpse of Millie coming out of the shower. I’m sure that excites you. Be happy for small things.
Was that a joke? Small things?
Sorry, I wasn’t thinking about you that way,
David said. "But I don’t mean we should create