Chương 3: A Second Beginning III

Arc 1 – A Second Beginning October 12, 1970 Monday mornings in Manhattan always seemed to move faster than the rest of the week. The streets filled before sunrise. Office workers hurried toward subway entrances carrying briefcases. Delivery trucks fought for space with yellow taxis. Street vendors had already begun selling coffee, bagels, and newspapers before seven o'clock. Inside the Lombardi apartment on East Street, the smell of toasted bread drifted from the kitchen.

James entered wearing his elementary school uniform. White shirt.

Dark blue sweater. Gray trousers. A small leather satchel rested over his shoulder. Enzo looked up from the newspaper while sipping his morning coffee.

"Good morning."

"Morning, Grandpa."

"You sleep well?" James nodded.

"Better than yesterday."

"Good." Enzo folded one page of the newspaper before noticing James's eyes lingering on it.

"You've been looking at this thing every morning." James smiled sheepishly.

"I've become curious."

"Oh?"

"About the world." Enzo chuckled.

"When I was ten, I was curious about football." James laughed.

"I'm curious about both."

"Wahaha!"

"There is hope for you yet." Enzo slid the newspaper across the table.

"Go ahead." James tried not to appear too eager. He unfolded the newspaper carefully. His eyes immediately skipped the sports section. Instead... Politics. Business. International affairs. The Vietnam War. Inflation. Manufacturing. Labor unions. Oil. One article caught his attention. Steel production had increased again. James paused. Steel... His fingers lightly tapped the page.. He remembered studying it years ago. But what? He closed his eyes. Nothing came.

"Damn..."

"What?" Enzo looked up. James immediately smiled.

"I mean..."

"Darn."

"I can't remember something." Enzo laughed.

"You sound like an old professor." James nearly choked on his milk. Well... technically... He quickly changed the subject.

"This article says manufacturing costs are rising." Enzo looked surprised.

"You actually read that?" James nodded.

"It seemed interesting." Enzo leaned over.

"Hm."

"They're talking about higher transportation costs." James nodded again.

"They'll probably keep increasing." Enzo looked at him.

"Why do you think that?" James shrugged.

"Just a feeling." Enzo smiled.

"Sometimes feelings are worth listening to." James silently memorized the article before folding the newspaper. He didn't remember the entire future. Far from it. But reading the news awakened memories little by little. It was like opening an old photo album. Some pages remained blank. Others suddenly became crystal clear. That meant one thing. From now on... Every newspaper mattered.

An hour later... James sat inside his classroom. The room smelled faintly of chalk and freshly sharpened pencils. Sunlight streamed through tall windows overlooking the schoolyard. Children chatted excitedly while waiting for class to begin. To James... The noise was almost overwhelming. He hadn't sat inside an elementary classroom in over half a century. His teacher, Mrs. Eleanor Parker, entered carrying several books.

"Good morning, class."

"Good morning, Mrs. Parker." James immediately recognized her. She retired years later. She had always been patient. Kind. Strict when necessary. One of the reasons he had developed a love for learning. Today's lesson focused on American history. Mrs. Parker asked,"Can anyone tell me why industrialization changed our country?" Several hands shot into the air. James deliberately kept his down. Don't answer everything. You're ten. Eventually another student answered. The response wasn't entirely correct.

James instinctively wanted to elaborate. Instead... He remained silent. Mrs. Parker smiled gently before expanding on the answer herself. Throughout the lesson, James forced himself to blend in. Not because he lacked knowledge. Because he possessed far too much. When mathematics began, however... Things became more difficult. The problems were... Simple. Painfully simple. He finished the worksheet in barely three minutes. Then spent the next twenty pretending to check his work repeatedly. Mrs. Parker noticed.

She walked over quietly.

"Already finished?" James nodded. She reviewed his paper. Every answer was correct. Her eyebrows rose.

"Very impressive." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. James smiled modestly.

"I checked them twice." She patted his shoulder.

"Good habit." As she walked away, James exhaled slowly. Careful... He couldn't become the mysterious genius overnight. Not yet. There would be time for that. For now... Patience remained his greatest ally.

During recess, James sat alone beneath a large oak tree instead of joining the children playing baseball. From his satchel, he quietly pulled out that morning's newspaper. One headline after another. He wasn't really reading anymore. He was searching. Searching for forgotten memories. Searching for opportunities. Searching for clues hidden inside his own past. And somewhere among the ink-covered pages... History had begun whispering back to him.

☆☆☆☆☆☆ Arc 1: A Second Beginning October 12, 1970 The crisp autumn breeze carried fallen leaves across the schoolyard. Children laughed as they chased one another between the swings and monkey bars. A group of boys argued loudly over whether they should play baseball or football. Nearby, several girls sat together beneath another tree, trading sandwiches and stories about their weekend. James barely noticed any of it. The newspaper rested across his lap. He wasn't reading every article. He was hunting.

One headline after another. One date after another.

One familiar name after another.

"Congress debates additional defense spending..."

"Automobile manufacturers report slowing sales..."

"Consumer prices continue gradual rise..." James underlined nothing. He couldn't. Someone might see. Instead, he committed the information to memory. Defense spending... Inflation... Automobiles... These weren't opportunities by themselves. They were puzzle pieces. He simply needed enough pieces before the picture became clear.

"... James?" He looked up. A boy with sandy blond hair stood before him holding a baseball.

"You coming?" James searched his memories. Daniel...? No... David...? Then it clicked. Michael Henderson. One of his classmates.

"To play?" Michael nodded.

"We need one more." James smiled apologetically.

"Maybe tomorrow." Michael looked at the newspaper.

"My dad reads that." James chuckled.

"I know."

"My grandpa lets me read it too." Michael shrugged.

"My dad says newspapers are boring." James laughed.

"They usually are."

"So why are you reading it?" James paused. He couldn't exactly answer, Because I'm searching for investment opportunities thirty years before they happen.

"I like knowing what's happening." Michael stared at him for a second before scratching his head.

"... You're weird." James burst into laughter.

"I've heard worse." Michael laughed as well before running back toward the baseball field. James watched him leave. Children. Their world was wonderfully simple. For a fleeting moment... He almost envied them.

The afternoon classes passed quickly. Science. Reading. Penmanship. Nothing challenged him intellectually. Yet... He enjoyed being there. Not because of the lessons. Because of normalcy. In his previous life, adulthood had arrived too quickly. His parents' deaths had stolen much of his childhood. Now... He had the chance to experience it again. Even if only from behind the eyes of a sixty-four-year-old man.

The final bell rang. Students rushed from the classroom like birds escaping a cage. Outside the school gates... Enzo waited beside his crimson Maranello Cavallo V12. Several parents couldn't help glancing toward the beautiful sports car. One father even nudged another.

"One day..."

"I'll own something like that." His friend laughed.

"You better win the lottery first." Enzo noticed James approaching and smiled broadly.

"There is my scholar." James climbed into the passenger seat.

"How was school?"

"Good."

"Did you make any trouble?" James looked horrified.

"Grandpa..." Enzo laughed loudly.

"I am joking." The engine roared to life. As they pulled away from the curb, James glanced back toward the school building. Strange. He had once believed he would never miss school. Now... He appreciated every ordinary day.

Instead of driving directly home, Enzo turned onto another avenue. James looked around.

"This isn't the way home."

"No."

"I need to stop by Empire National Bank." James's interest immediately sharpened.

"The bank?"

"Mhm."

"They're handling a few documents for the company." James nodded casually while his thoughts raced. Empire National Bank... The largest financial institution Thompson Manufacturing dealt with. One day... That relationship would become extremely important.

The bank occupied an impressive granite building. Tall marble columns framed its entrance. Inside, polished brass fixtures reflected the afternoon sunlight. Employees greeted Enzo immediately.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Lombardi."

"Afternoon." James quietly followed as Enzo approached one of the private service desks. A banker in his forties stood to greet them.

"Chairman Lombardi."

"It's always a pleasure."

"You as well, Mr. Whitmore." James silently observed. Professional. Respectful. The banker clearly knew Enzo well. While the two discussed routine corporate matters, James wandered only a few steps away. A display board listed several financial figures. Savings interest rates. Commercial lending rates. Corporate investment certificates. He studied them carefully. Not because they were immediately useful... But because understanding the financial climate of 1970 would help him make better decisions later.

Knowledge wasn't just about remembering the future. It was about understanding the present.

The drive home was quieter. The afternoon sun slowly descended toward the skyline. After dinner... James carried a small portable radio into the living room. Enzo looked over curiously.

"You usually watch cartoons." James smiled.

"I wanted to hear the news first."

"The news?"

"Mhm." Enzo shrugged.

"Suit yourself." He settled into his favorite armchair with a magazine dedicated to boxing. The radio crackled before a deep voice filled the room.

"... continuing coverage of the conflict in Vietnam..." James listened carefully. Names. Locations. Political figures. Economic reports. Every few minutes... Another forgotten memory surfaced. Not complete memories. Fragments. A corporation. A future merger. A recession. A commodity shortage. He couldn't always place them. Yet every fragment was valuable. When the broadcast ended, Enzo looked toward him.

"Interesting?" James nodded.

"Very." Enzo smiled.

"I still don't understand why a ten-year-old likes the evening news." James laughed.

"I don't understand it either." That answer made Enzo laugh as well.

Later that night... James returned to his bedroom. He locked the door. Opened his notebook. Beneath the heading Recovered Memories, he began writing. • Rising inflation through the decade. • Manufacturing costs likely to continue increasing. • Watch steel and oil industries closely. He stopped. His pencil hovered over the page. Then... A memory suddenly struck him. So abruptly that he almost dropped the pencil. The image was faint. A logo. Golden arches. Fast food. Rapid expansion. James's eyes widened.

"... No way." He quickly wrote another line. • Fast-food franchises will explode during the 1970s. Investigate major regional chains. He leaned back. His heart raced. It worked. The more information he absorbed... The more memories returned. Not perfectly. Not instantly. But steadily. He smiled to himself. The future wasn't a completed book. It was a library whose shelves he was slowly rediscovering. And every newspaper... Every radio broadcast... Every television report... Would unlock another chapter.

James carefully closed the notebook. He looked toward the calendar hanging above his desk. October 12. Three days remained. Three days until he would make the proposal that could change the fate of Thompson Manufacturing forever. He smiled confidently. Everything was unfolding exactly as he intended. ☆☆☆☆☆☆ Arc 1: A Second Beginning October 13, 1970 The sound of rain tapping against the apartment windows woke James before dawn. He lay still beneath his blankets, listening.

There was something oddly peaceful about rainy mornings. In his previous life, he had often enjoyed listening to rain while grading assignments or preparing lectures for his university classes. Now... He was ten again. Yet his habits remained unchanged. He got out of bed, dressed quietly, and made his way toward the kitchen. Enzo was already there. As expected.

The old Italian stood by the stove humming an Italian folk song while preparing breakfast.

"You wake earlier every day." James smiled.

"I guess I'm getting used to the schedule." Enzo looked at the clock.

"It is barely six."

"You'll make me look lazy." James laughed.

"I don't think that's possible."

"Wahaha!"

"You flatter your old grandpa." Breakfast was quiet. Outside, the rain continued falling steadily. Enzo unfolded the morning edition of the New York Herald—one of the city's major newspapers—and immediately began reading. Before he could finish the front page, James asked,"Can I read the business section after you?" Enzo slowly lowered the newspaper.

"The business section?" James nodded.

"I've been curious." Enzo stared for several seconds before smiling.

"I suppose curiosity isn't a bad thing." He folded the newspaper and handed it over after finishing the front page.

"There."

"But if I ask you what any of those words mean..."

"You better have an answer." James grinned.

"I'll do my best."

On the subway ride to school, James sat beside the window with the folded newspaper resting on his lap. He turned directly to the financial pages. One article discussed the growing popularity of synthetic fabrics. His eyes narrowed. Nylon... Polyester... The words stirred something deep within his memory. Outdoor clothing. Lighter materials. Camping equipment. His mind suddenly connected those memories to the conversation he intended to have with Enzo in two days. Good. That would strengthen his argument.

He mentally noted another point.

"Outdoor equipment should gradually adopt synthetic fabrics where practical." He smiled faintly. Every article is becoming another piece of the puzzle.

School passed much like the previous day. Mrs. Parker announced a surprise spelling quiz. Most of the class groaned. James nearly laughed. He had spent decades writing academic papers and business analyses. A fifth-grade spelling test wasn't exactly intimidating. Still... He intentionally misspelled one word. Deliberately. Not because he couldn't spell it. Because scoring one hundred percent on everything would eventually draw attention. When Mrs. Parker returned the quizzes that afternoon, she smiled.

"Excellent work, James."

"Ninety-eight."

"Keep it up." James thanked her politely. One of his classmates leaned over.

"You missed one?" James nodded.

"I guess." The boy grinned triumphantly.

"I got ninety-six."

"So I almost beat you." James laughed.

"You'll get me next time." The boy pumped his fist proudly. Mrs. Parker couldn't help smiling at the exchange. Children should compete. Not dominate. James understood that better than anyone.

After school, the rain had stopped. The sidewalks still glistened beneath the afternoon sun. As James approached Enzo's car, he noticed his grandfather speaking with a newspaper vendor. The elderly vendor handed Enzo an evening edition. James's eyes immediately lit up. Evening papers. More information. More opportunities. As soon as they got inside the car, Enzo noticed the expression on his grandson's face.

"You really like newspapers now." James laughed.

"I guess I do."

"Hmm..." Enzo handed him the freshly printed edition.

"Then tell me something interesting." James carefully opened it. One article discussed rising consumer demand for recreational travel. He paused. Camping... National parks... Outdoor recreation... Another memory surfaced. Not complete. But clearer than before. During the 1970s... Americans would increasingly spend money on recreational outdoor activities. Exactly the market James intended Thompson Manufacturing to enter. He looked toward Enzo.

"I think..."

"Hm?"

"I think people are going to spend more time outdoors." Enzo glanced at him briefly before returning his attention to the road.

"What makes you think that?" James shrugged.

"They're earning more money than before."

"And when people have extra money..."

"They spend it." Enzo nodded slowly.

"Not a bad observation." James continued.

"If more families go camping..."

"They'll need equipment." Enzo smiled.

"You're still thinking about business." James scratched the back of his head.

"Maybe."

"Wahaha!"

"I should put you on the payroll."

That evening, after dinner, the two watched the nightly news together. The family television was a modest black-and-white set sitting in the corner of the living room. The news anchor spoke in a calm, authoritative voice. Reports covered Vietnam. Congress. The economy. Sports. Then... A brief segment appeared about the automobile industry. A manufacturer announced plans to experiment with improved fuel efficiency. James's heartbeat quickened. Fuel... Oil... His memories stirred violently.

Not a complete recollection. Just a feeling. A major oil-related event. Soon. Very soon. He couldn't remember the exact year. Or the cause. Only the consequences. Fuel prices... Queues at gas stations... Manufacturers scrambling to adapt... He frowned. Think... Come on... The memory slipped away before he could grasp it. Enzo noticed.

"What is it?" James shook his head.

"Nothing."

"I just thought I remembered something."

"You've been saying that often lately." James smiled.

"I know."

Late that night, James sat once more at his desk. His notebook now contained several pages of observations. He carefully organized them. Instead of writing randomly, he divided the notebook into sections. Economic Events Business Opportunities Future Companies Potential Risks People to Remember He paused. Then opened to a fresh page. At the top, he wrote: Thompson Manufacturing Below it, he began drafting ideas. Strengths Excellent reputation. Loyal workforce. Military-grade textile experience.

Strong financial reserves. Experienced leadership. Weaknesses Heavy dependence on government contracts. Aging machinery in some departments. Limited civilian product line. He continued writing for nearly an hour. This wasn't merely a list. It was the beginning of a strategic roadmap. A roadmap that would eventually reshape the company. When he finally closed the notebook, he glanced at the calendar. October 13. Only two days remained. Everything was nearly in place. All that was left...

Was convincing the one man whose decision would determine whether history changed. Enzo Lombardi. James smiled.

"Grandpa..."

"I hope you're ready." ☆☆☆☆☆☆ Arc 1: A Second Beginning October 14, 1970 The city awakened beneath clear autumn skies. The rain from the previous day had washed the streets clean, leaving Manhattan bathed in crisp October sunlight. James stood by his bedroom window for several moments before getting dressed. Tomorrow. Everything would begin tomorrow. He wasn't nervous about making the bet. He was nervous about what came after. Enzo wasn't an ordinary grandfather.

He was a businessman who had spent thirty years building one of New York's most respected textile manufacturers.

He had negotiated with banks. Government officials. Military procurement officers. Union representatives. Suppliers from across the country. Changing the mind of someone like Enzo... Would require more than passion. It would require logic. Facts. Timing. Fortunately... James had all three.

Breakfast proceeded as usual. Enzo was reading the newspaper while drinking espresso. James noticed that his grandfather had already finished the front page and was now reading the sports section. A wide smile stretched across the old Italian's face.

"What happened?" James asked. Enzo turned the newspaper around.

"There." James looked. The headline covered the heavyweight boxing division. One article discussed rumors surrounding former heavyweight champion Malik King. Sports commentators continued speculating whether he would ever return to professional boxing after years away from the ring. Some believed he was finished. Others insisted he was training in secret. No one knew for certain. James carefully kept his face neutral. Five more days... Enzo folded the page.

"A shame."

"What is?"

"Boxing."

"It isn't the same without Malik." James nodded.

"He was your favorite."

"He still is." Enzo pointed a finger toward him.

"One day..."

"I'll show you one of his old fights." James smiled.

"I'd like that." In truth... James had already watched nearly every one of them during his first lifetime.

Before leaving for school, James asked,"Grandpa?"

"Hm?"

"Could I keep today's newspaper?" Enzo looked surprised.

"The whole thing?" James nodded.

"I want to reread some articles." Enzo chuckled.

"You really have become an old man." James almost laughed out loud. If only you knew...

"You can keep it."

"Thanks."

School felt shorter than usual. Mrs. Parker announced that Friday afternoon would include a current events discussion.

"I'd like each of you to bring one newspaper article tomorrow." Several students groaned. One boy whispered,"My dad only reads the comics." Laughter spread across the classroom. Mrs. Parker smiled patiently.

"The comics don't count." More groans followed. James, however, found the assignment unexpectedly useful. Current events. That meant he could naturally talk about newspapers without seeming unusual. Sometimes... Opportunity arrived in the simplest ways.

During lunch break, James found himself surrounded by three classmates. Michael Henderson sat beside him. Across from them sat Sarah Collins, one of the brightest students in class, and Robert Miller, who was more interested in baseball than homework. Michael pointed toward James's folded newspaper.

"You actually brought one." James nodded.

"Mrs. Parker asked us to."

"She asked for tomorrow."

"I know." Michael shook his head dramatically.

"See?"

"You're weird." Sarah giggled.

"I think it's nice." Robert reached over.

"What's in it?" James unfolded the paper.

"There are articles about the economy..." Robert interrupted.

"Boring."

"... sports." Robert immediately became interested.

"Now we're talking." James smiled. He turned to the sports pages. The conversation quickly shifted toward baseball standings and boxing. When Malik King's name appeared once again, Michael sighed.

"My dad says he'll never fight again." Robert agreed.

"They took everything from him." James remained silent. He knew better.

That afternoon, Mrs. Parker noticed James reading quietly after finishing another assignment early.

"What are you reading?" She asked.

"The newspaper." She smiled.

"Learning about current events?" James nodded.

"I think it's important." Mrs. Parker looked genuinely pleased.

"It is."

"The world doesn't stop outside these classroom walls." James appreciated that statement. Perhaps... That was another reason he had respected her as a child. She encouraged curiosity. Not just memorization.

School ended shortly after three o'clock. Instead of driving directly home, Enzo surprised James.

"How about we stop somewhere?" James looked over.

"Where?"

"You'll see." Twenty minutes later... The Maranello Cavallo pulled into the parking lot of a large bookstore. James's eyes widened. He hadn't visited this place in decades. The bookstore occupied two floors. Its windows displayed everything from novels to engineering manuals. Enzo smiled.

"You've been reading so much lately."

"I figured..."

"You might enjoy this more than another toy." James genuinely smiled.

"I would." They stepped inside. The scent of fresh paper immediately filled the air. Shelves stretched in every direction. History. Science. Literature. Business. Travel. James felt like a starving man entering a banquet hall. He forced himself to head toward the children's section first. After all... He was still supposed to be ten. Enzo wandered elsewhere while James browsed. Eventually... His curiosity got the better of him. He drifted toward the history shelves. Then... Toward economics.

He reached for a thick book titled: The Rise of American Industry His fingers stopped just short of pulling it from the shelf.

"... A little advanced for your age." James turned. A middle-aged employee smiled kindly. James quickly smiled back.

"I was just looking." The employee nodded.

"No harm in that." He pointed toward another shelf.

"There are some excellent history books written for younger readers."

"Thanks." James accepted the suggestion without argument. No need to stand out. Not yet.

Before leaving, Enzo purchased three books for him. An illustrated encyclopedia. A book on American history. And a collection of world geography. James looked at the stack.

"You really bought all of these?" Enzo shrugged.

"They're cheaper than replacing toys every few weeks." James laughed.

"I suppose that's true." As they walked back toward the car, Enzo glanced sideways at him.

"You know..."

"Hm?"

"I like seeing you interested in learning again." James looked ahead quietly. After his parents' deaths... He had withdrawn into himself. Books had become little more than school assignments. Now... That curiosity had returned. Only this time... It was fueled by experience.

"I enjoy it." James answered honestly. Enzo smiled.

"I'm glad."

That evening, James spent nearly three hours reading. Not because he expected the books to teach him things he didn't already know. Rather... They refreshed details. Dates. Names. Historical context. Every chapter sparked another forgotten memory. Sometimes only a sentence. Sometimes an entire event. Before going to bed, he opened his notebook once more. Below everything he had written over the past few days, he added a final line. October 15. Objective: Convince Grandpa to think beyond military contracts.

James stared at those words. Tomorrow evening... Everything would change. The bet. The conversation. The first true divergence from his previous life. He closed the notebook carefully. Then looked toward the dark Manhattan skyline outside his window. Tomorrow... History would take its first different step.