"If you invest in these mixture of stocks and bonds," says Jason Treborn, sitting behind his desk at American Pride Financial Services, "it will have a solid growth rate, enough for your retirement by 2011."
"Uh, thank you," says the woman sitting in the office.
"And if you two have any children, I'll recommend college funds. American Pride offers a lot of products."
"You sure you can make our money grow?" asks the man. "I mean, we had double-digit inflation for a couple of years, and now there's this recession. I might get laid off by the company."
"Sir, with proper planning, you can weather the storms ahead," says Jason. "I spent years studying investments and trend analysis so you won't have to. And with a diversified portfolio, you won't have to worry your heart out if the up-and-coming company you invested in tanks – you'd still have bonds which would provide steady income, and other investments may be doing well."
"Thank you," says the woman.
Jason offers his business card to the couple. "Either of you have any questions, call the office for an appointment."
The two clients leave the office. Jason looks at the time; it is about 5:20 P.M. He looks at his appointment calendar; there are ten appointments the rest of the week. He looks at another file. It contains notes about future stock prices, commodity prices, and interest rates.
He had built quite a reputation for himself in the company. Even during his internship, he had a knack for investment analysis that was literally predicting the future. For example, back in 1979, a few months after he started his internship, he argued that the price of silver would collapse in early 1980 because too many people were speculating. American Pride dumped its silver holdings in December of 1979. The price of silver began to slide; on March 27, 1980, the price of silver went down 50. Jason received praise not just from his immediate supervisor, Mr. Bright, but the general manager for the White Plains branch and even a vice president from American Pride's Manhattan headquarters. Jason had been immediately offered a financial advisor position upon his graduation from the university.
Jason brings his attention to the present. The day is over; he might as well go home.
And so he does, driving his '78 Toyota Corolla to the home in Harrison, New York, that he and Andrea had purchased just a month ago. It is a typical home, having been built there as part of an encroaching residential development in 1980.
It is a typical evening home, with Jason and Andrea having dinner. After dinner, Jason watches reruns on the Sony color television in the living room.
Finally, as night falls all over New York, Jason goes to bed with his wife. The two of them snuggle up together, enjoying the warmth of their bodies.
"I have something to tell you," says Andrea, stroking her husband's hair.
"What is it?" asks Jason. "You want some?"
"I'm pregnant."
Jason takes almost a minute before absorbing these words. Andrea is pregnant. In her own body his child is attached and growing.
"How…how far along are you?"
"I haven't had my period since the wedding; as long as two months."
"This is great." Jason takes a couple of deep breaths, knowing what will happen in a few months. He strokes her brown hair. "You…you know, I think we should do an encore."
Less than a minute later, he goes in unto her.
Oooooooooooooo
October 14, 1981
"Everything seems to be going fine, Mrs. Treborn," says Dr. Ronald L. Hubbard, standing in the examination room in a medical center in Rye, New York. "The baby's growing typically for someone at eighteen to nineteen weeks."
Andrea Treborn looks at the ultrasound photograph which is pinned to the white plaster wall. She can clearly see the image of the fetus. She looks down at her belly, which is visibly swollen, rubbing her left hand over it.
She smiles at the image. The image does have a strong resemblance to a human. No longer can her child be viewed as an abstract. The image makes the baby inside her seem more real.
Ooooooooooo
January 6, 1982
"You sure have grown," says Jason as he sees his wife emerge from the bathroom.
"Oh please," replies Andrea, her hugely pregnant belly now the dominating feature of her body. "I wonder if I'll lose this weight."
"From what my mom told me, chasing kids around can provide a lot of exercise – she had three of them, you know." Jason opens the closet door, looking at the clothes hanging from the rack, including three sets of nice business suits. "Time to get dressed for work."
"I need to buy new shoes; my feet are so big I probably need two additional shoe sizes."
"Don't worry; I make a lot of money. I might even go down to the city to buy some from Bloomingdale's." Jason buttons his white shirt. "You'd better come along so they can measure your foot."
"I'm probably a size 13 now."
Jason glances at the bedroom window, which is frosted on the other side due to the typical temperatures of upstate New York at this time of year. He kisses his wife. "Have a wonderful day, sweetie."
As Jason looks, Andrea looks down at her swollen belly.
Two more months, and then the real fun begins.
Oooooooooooooo
March 5, 1982
Andrea feels something trickling down the inside of her left thigh as she sits on the couch. She rubs her finger on the thigh, feeling the wetness.
Here we go.
After changing her amniotic-fluid soaked panties for dry ones, she picks up the telephone and dials the number for her husband's office.
"American Pride Financial," says a female voice.
"Is Jason Treborn there?" asks Andrea.
"Mr. Treborn is meeting with a client, ma'am."
"I'm his wife and this is an emergency."
Ooooooooooo
"Don't You Want Me" by Human League plays on the solid-state radio in the white Toyota Corolla as Jason Treborn pulls up the driveway of his home. Entering, he meets Andrea sitting in the living room.
"Let's get going," says his wife as she waddles towards him.
"Labor takes up to twenty hours," her husband says. "Take it easy."
After getting something from the house, he leads her to the passenger seat of the Corolla, with "Don't You Want Me" still playing on the radio. Jason puts the car in gear and drives towards the medical center where Andrea had her checkups during most of her pregnancy.
The song "Keep on Loving You" by REO Speedwagon is interrupted by an inhuman scream.
"Jason, the baby's gonna be born soon!" yells Andrea.
"How could this be?" asks Jason, gripping the steering wheel as he passes an Oldsmobile. "Your water broke less than an hour ago, right?"
Andrea feels her entire lower half imploding. "Why is it taking so long to get there?"
Jason pulls near the emergency room entrance just as "Any Way You Want It" by Journey plays on the radio. An orderly from the hospital, clad in blue, arrives.
"I'm having a baby!" yells Andrea.
She is strapped to a gurney and flails her arms around as she is rolled down a corridor, knocking another patient's IV bottle against a wall. The twenty-five-year-old woman is taken to the maternity ward.
Just nine months after Andrea's wedding, one and a half hours after breaking her water, and ten minutes after reaching the hospital, she delivers a baby boy.
Oooooooooooo
Jason looks through the viewfinder of the Kodak Super 8 motion picture camera as he aims it towards his wife, lying down in the recovery room, as well as his newborn son, being held by his mother.
"This is Evan Lionel Treborn," says Andrea. He was born at 2:25 PM on March 5, 1982. He was named after my grandfather, and his middle name was after Jason's grandfather."
She smiles, placing him in the small crib. Jason makes sure to have a close up shot of his son.
I'm a father.
Ooooooooooooo
March 10, 1982
The doorbell rings, and Jason walks to the front door and peeps through the peephole. Opening the door, he is greeted by his parents and fifteen-year-old younger sister.
"Hi, Jason," says his father Chris.
"Dad," replies Jason. "They're in the bedroom."
Chris, his wife Lucinda, and daughter Meaghan follow Jason into the master bedroom. There, Andrea lies in bed. In a wooden crib lies an infant boy, swaddled in blue.
"This is Evan," says Jason.
"Hi there," says Lucinda, looking at her newest grandson.
"He's so small," says Meaghan. "He's the smallest of them."
"You were only eleven when Chrissy was born," says her mother. "It is you who have grown since then."
"Oh, by the way," says Andrea, "what about Scott and his wife?"
"We told Scott and Dana Sunday morning," replies Chris. "They still have to make travel arrangements. You know they have a two-year-old boy as well as a four-year-old girl, and travel can be stressing for children that age."
"I'm sure they'll be here before Evan graduates high school," says Jason.
"What about your parents?" asks Lucinda.
"They said they'll come over Saturday," replies Andrea. "They are excited. I mean, my mom is so excited about the idea of another grandkid; Evan's not her first."
The three visitors look at baby Evan, still sleeping.
Oooooooooooooo
April 19, 1982
Eating his lunch of a pastrami sandwich, French fries, and a Coke, Jason sees a man in a sport coat sit down, holding a cardboard tray with a hot dog drenched in mustard and relish.
"So you're a daddy now," says longtime friend Neil Cross. "Congratulations."
"Thanks," replies Jason. "Maybe you can stop by and see him later."
The two of them sit inside this café catering to people working in the nearby office buildings. The place is frequently packed. In Jason's opinion, the café serves better food than the Burger King down the street.
"It's so amazing, Jason. I mean, you're twenty-two and you're already married and have a baby and have this high-paying job. Look at me; I'm between jobs because of this fucking recession."
"I can help you manage your finances and even provide hints as to what industries and companies to invest in."
"You sure think of work a lot," comments Neil.
"Are you kidding?" asks Jason, sipping some Coke. "I mean it was nice to be off for a week after Evan was born, but then I have to go meet with all my clients and do research and shit, you know. And I have to finish lunch in fifteen minutes, if I don't want to be late with meeting with this important client. And three days last week I worked late."
"Is Andrea doing fine?"
"The baby's keeping her company; some of the neighbors come to visit. A lot of young families on our block. I bet we'll all grow up together."
Ooooooooooooo
June 5, 1983
The sun shines clearly on this playground in Harrison, not far from the Treborn home. Andrea holds the Kodak Super 8 camera, looking at Jason place their one-year-old son on a swing. It is a rare day, as Jason has time off from his job at American Pride. It is also their two-year anniversary. They will have dinner at the restaurant where Jason first proposed to her back in 1980.
Evan makes a noise as he is gently swung.
"So how do you like this?" asks Jason. "We're gonna ride in an airplane next month. We're gonna see your Uncle Scott and Aunt Dana where they live. You like them?"
Andrea puts down the motion picture camera. "I'm getting a hang of your hobby here," says Andrea. "We're gonna run out of room if we keep all these home movies."
"I can easily afford a new shelf," replies her twenty-three-year-old husband.
"No, we'll need a new house to make room for all your films."
"We'll have a new house someday." Jason carries Evan. "Did you like the swing?"
The three of them walk towards a black Lincoln Continental purchased just two months ago.