Looking Backward from the Tricentennial

Chapter Twenty-Five (part 2)

Julian stared at the suitcase's contents. It was stuffed with cash. "Del, what's this?" he managed.

Delroy was beaming as he replanted himself on the couch. "Federal Reserve Notes, all 2023 or earlier," he said. "You never told me where the money came from last time around, but this is for you. Close to one hundred grand. If you bring this with you, things will be different. Money means options."

"Is this my commission? For recruiting Reverend Shaver?" He closed the case, shaking his head in amazement.

With an audible wheeze, Delroy settled himself back into the couch. "What kind of treasurer would I have been if I was writing checks to a popsicle? Sorry, brother, that all stayed with the PAC. You did earn it, in a way," he said. "Most of the cash is our reparations money, mine and Minnie's. You know about Treasury Dollar Bills?" Delroy slapped his knee. "Of course you do! Reparations were in Federal Reserve Notes, and we socked ours away for you. Paying it forward." He scratched his chin. "Or backward."

Julian recalled Teara Harper mentioning Treasury Dollar Bills. "I was told they're base money. Which means the Treasury created them instead of banks borrowing dollars into existence—bank money?"

Delroy nodded. "Julian, you ever hear of a guy who ran for president named Ross Perot?"

With a laugh, Julian shook his head. "No. Tell me about him."

"Take notes, so you can tell me," Delroy cackled. "It was in the '90s, and he campaigned on balancing the budget. He convinced everyone that the federal government should only spend as much as it brought in in taxes."

"That's not right," Julian said. "If the economy and the population are growing, the money supply has to expand too. That means someone has to spend more dollars into circulation."

"You called it the Ross Perot fallacy," Delroy told him. "But he got a big chunk of votes, and after that, the Republicans and Democrats worked together to balance the budget."

"I was just learning about this," Julian said. "That's what happens if a third party gets traction: one of the parties absorbs their popular policies, so they fade away. They sting like a bee, then die."

"Well, in this case, both parties did," Delroy continued. "So no one seriously questioned the Ross Perot fallacy until the American Union Jobs Program came along and proposed exactly what you said: don't balance the budget."

"What was it like, Del? When everyone got their American Union Job?"

Delroy replanted himself on the couch and scratched his chin. "It's hard to remember what it was like that far back. Good jobs around here were scarce. I was keeping the books for Deacon's Garage and some other businesses, but the AI—artificial intelligence—tax software was cutting me out.

"Minnie would do some gig work sometimes, Uber, DoorDash, like that, depending on if Alba was in school. One of her friends had opened a little bakery, and she'd help there a few hours a week. We'd fight over money. It wasn't good, Julian."

"I told Idabee the whole neighborhood was permeated with poverty."

"We spent 2024 working on the American Union as our side hustle, but after the election, everyone kind of faded away. They were hunkering down for four more years of partisan fighting; the 2026 election was too far off." Delroy scrutinized the other man. "Are you sure you want to hear all this?" Julian nodded, and he continued, "You got depressed when it didn't succeed in 2024. We didn't talk as much, and you stopped coming around. Minnie was worried about you, and eventually we came to visit. Do you remember that?"

"I do!" Julian said enthusiastically. "I hadn't seen you for years, and then there you were at my door." He looked embarrassed. "I was a little messed up, though."