First State Community College offered four main campuses in Delaware. The one Ishiguro Go attended in Wilmington. It looked clean and austere. Different angles added to the design and nothing appeared superfluous or if the architect had made a mistake and embellished. Inside, Go tapped away at his laptop. Quiet, though he may have been, his fingers glided over the keyboard and it seemed as if he completed a concerto. He wore a FSCC gray and orange hoody with blue jeans. This early December day felt unseasonably warm at a balmy seventy-seven degrees Fahrenheit.

“Mr. Go,” Professor Ingrid Hollen called, “You don’t have to be here.”

“Professor Hollen, I know. All I’m doing is––”

“All you’re doing is disrupting the class with your incessant antics. It’s your future,” she reminded him. Her appearance called to mind a fading supermodel. Blank blue eyes beamed from her skull and held a bit of sadness in them. Her cheeks had been pumped and raised. A false mole had been applied to her face. Blonde and gray hair mixed on her head. She wore a gold blouse with burgundy slacks. 

Go gathered his gear and as he walked out, he offered a farewell salute to his fellow classmates.

“I hope you all pay good money for education and that it goes far. You’re here to learn. Never mind what is being taught. Always remember to educate yourselves,” he remarked.

“Thank you, Mr. Go,” she announced, a little peeved at his last statement. Go exited and never returned to classes at FSCC. He ventured to the library a few blocks up the road. He could’ve entered the library on campus, but he thought he should get even more out of the expansive yet  dated building. It didn’t matter, he yearned for access to more books and WiFi.

The Wilmington International Library boasted no futuristic signs. It looked like any other Greek-inspired building with columns, triangles, and lintels. Go, nevertheless, embarked on the rest of his life behind the facade of marble. He found a chair and sat at a desk away from the patrons. In the late morning, he just kept tapping away with fervor and intent. Every keystroke produced something even more beautiful than he could imagine. This, he discovered, would be his platinum and diamond ticket from obscure college student to worldwide fame. But he didn’t do it for fame. Now, money on the other hand, he could do it for that. What was it? He had been tinkering on a site to facilitate newcomers into the realm of cryptocurrency.

By designing this site, he became more aware of his time on the Earth. He looked at his smartwatch. It now neared two o’clock. With his foray into the blockchain and setting up his multiple accounts, he had disrupted the fabric of the online business of trading. His central goal had originally been to create a haven for hustlers like himself to carve out fortunes. Such money could be used for anything, but he pushed himself to build wealth that would be used for good. The shadiness and the misconceptions around crypto rankled him. 

To come to conclusions, make U-turns, reverse conclusions, and make the site clearer and cleaner, Go focused on giving his best effort to becoming legendary. A reddish brown skinned young lady sat at a table adjacent to his. She observed his keen demeanor. She was about nineteen and looked like she just stepped off a set from a Bollywood film shoot. Her huge eyes dazzled in the light. She wore blue jeans and a green blouse. A pencil fell from her backpack. She cleared her throat trying to get Go’s attention. He didn’t even know she existed. Not once did he look up from his work. 

She smiled and politely got up and picked up the pencil. Go noticed her movement. He removed headphones blaring metal. 

“No, I’m fine now.” Go slammed his notebook. He reached out a hand. 

“I know who you are. How can anyone miss the infamous Ishiguro Go?”

He looked perplexed. “I never knew I’d been so famous on campus. What’s your name?”

“I’m Chanda. And you are still a student, right?” she replied.

“I’m done with formal learning at a degree granting institution of higher learning.”

“What about four year schools? Weren’t you going to matriculate?”

Go sighed. “I had originally planned to, but this….” He thrust his hands signalling his notebook.

“I know that, what about it made you the ‘big man on campus’?”

She shrugged and her eyes widened. A look of intrigue and undeniable wonder washed over her face. Go opened up his notebook and beckoned for her to see the panoply of trades going on in real time.

“I don’t normally show people my work,” he admitted and admonished.

“Your secrets are safe with me,” Chanda committed to him almost like a scout’s honor.

He showed her the space where billions of dollars had been pumped into the system. Chanda ate all of this in like manna. She took her pencil and jotted down notes, or tried to do so, anyway.

“No notes, please. I’m still in Beta mode. I know you’ll keep the ingredients to the sauce, but I can’t risk anyone taking your notes and using them against me.”

She whipped out her own computer and began setting up the mic.

“I assure you, I will not share this information with anyone. My word is my bond.”

Go sighed. He then discussed the basics and, with a feeling of joy at being able to display his knowledge, went deeper into the annals of digital money-making. The time stretched into the late evening and the two remained there. Go looked into Chanda’s eyes.

“And that is the space I’ve been making for myself over the past year.”

“Wow,” Chanda observed. “That’s intense.” 

“Yes, but with just some understanding, only a slight bit, you can master an entire universe,” Go replied with glee.

“Why don’t we break and snatch a Billie?” she suggested.

Once they had reached the sandwich shop, they began to look at the walls of the establishment. The place boasted laurels for its delightful sandwiches. The Billie or “Christmas on a roll” featured ham, swiss, turkey, roasted potatoes and gravy.  Signs blasted “Greatest in Delaware five years in a row!” They peered into each other’s eyes between bites. They finished their meal with some sparkling cider.

“I’ve never let anyone into my inner sanctum like that,” Go confessed.

“Yes, you are,” Go acknowledged. They both laughed. Mirthful and enriching, they chortled with bliss.

“I know you’re going to be even bigger than at school. I’m just saying that you might want to get a degree as a––”

“Way to fall back on? As a safety net? Now you sound like my mom.”

“I wasn’t trying to––” she sipped quickly, thinking of some way to change the subject from parents to their current situation.

“It’s okay. I’ve been hearing it for years.”

“I’d imagine she didn’t originate from this country.”

“You’d be right. I’m the first born Japanese-American in my family. My two sisters immigrated but they were born in the old country.”

“Same here. I mean my brother was born in India and I was born in Dover, Delaware.”

“So what, if this cryptocurrency––”

 this site is built. I won’t have to worry about money. It will be abundantly clear that I will be able to manage on my own.”

Chanda smiled. “You say it with such conviction. I can’t drop out. I’m going to be a nurse.”

“You definitely need schooling for that,” Go felt amused at his own words.

“Are you looking down on nurses?” Chanda challenged.

“No, no, no. It’s just that there are certain professions that require a degree. I’m not in one of them. But I champion you for endeavoring into a field full of purpose.”

Chanda looked at the wall with all the accolades. “If I were to stop with my schooling, my parents would go nuclear on me.”

“If you do it your way, then you can go to school or choose to side with me.”

“What do you mean? I recorded over an hour of you explaining wonderfully the rudiments and complexities of something I know nothing about.”

“With the money I’m going to make, I’m going to open a skate shop. We’ll sell boards and other merchandise.”

“That’s something I’m into, as well. I’ll get my nursing––”

“Forget your parents. Get out of school and come help me build this project from nothing.” Chanda sipped and shook her head as she placed the cup on the table.

“I know my mom and dad. They didn’t even want me to go to community college. I said it would be the fastest way to get into my career. Plus, I could always go to NSU and get my bachelors and masters degrees. So, the answer is no.”

It sounded like a thunderclap. The ‘no’ bounced back between Go’s ears.

“I’m going to convince you. You’re going to be making money alongside me. You can learn more about the––”

Go felt stunned. He then canted his chin and made a valiant effort to persuade her once more.

“If you don’t want to go on this adventure, I can understand that. Just don’t be so final. Be flexible. Say, ‘I’ll think about it’ or something a human would say.”

Chanda’s eyes widened once more and a smile streaked across her face.

“Well, do,” she replied. “I’m not human because I don’t want to delve into the world of an unstable market and toss away my chances at becoming a servant to the people?”

“By the time I finish my work, they’re going to name halls after me in that school. Honorary degrees will come pouring into my lap.”

Chanda finished off her cider. “I do enjoy your ambition, however, I must stay the course.”

“You can get your degree. I’m not suggesting that you just stop your learning, like you said, you can always go back and pick up the advanced degrees, too. I’m just saying that you can run the shop and reap the benefits.”

“Okay. If I do this….” Chanda started.

Chanda smirked. It was a knowing, warm little grin sliding across her face. She shifted gears.“That name of yours is beautiful, but you should find something more appropriate for what you do. Something catchier….”

“Yes,” she answered. “It’s an anagram for Go Invest.”

Go’s eyes turned to saucers. The “a-ha” moment never evaded him.

“I’ll file the online petition for an official name change tomorrow.”

“I like the skate shop idea, though. It is captivating. Really cool. With your idea off the ground, I’ll see if you can truly shape the world in your own image.”

“That’s all I’m trying to do. There’s billions on the floor. I’m just here to scoop it all up,” he assured.

“If we can work on this together with the knowledge you have and my own expertise, we can build empires….”

The thought swished around in Chanda’s brain. She envisioned the two of them struggling in an apartment somewhere, he at his notebook observing and engaging in the blockchain and she on her own studying the cardiovascular system. She made it make sense. 

“Okay,” Chanda burst through the moment of rumination. “We start this plan and we see through it. No stopping. We continue to put our time in and seek out a way to bring together crypto, nursing, and skateboards.”

“Yes!” Go lit up like birthday candles. Chanda continued.

“You drop out, I go to school, and we can make this work.”

“I’ll be able to do everything I can to bring together all of the necessary tools and I’m sure I will be more than capable of paying for your schooling.”

“Your aims know no bounds, huh?” Chanda asked coyly.

“It’s all I’ve ever had since I was a kid. My mom wanted me to go to a four- year school, too. But I knew for the right price, FSCC was the best place to learn computing. Once crypto came along, I became enamored in the wonders of markets, software and online platforms. I think we’ll bring our brains together on this journey of joy.”

Chintan Jani

Smartystan

Keen Demeanor

First State Community College offered four main campuses in Delaware. The one Ishiguro Go attended in Wilmington. It looked clean and austere. Different angles added to the design and nothing appeared superfluous or if the architect had made a mistake and embellished. Inside, Go tapped away at his laptop. Quiet, though he may have been, his fingers glided over the keyboard and it seemed as if he completed a concerto. He wore a FSCC gray and orange hoody with blue jeans. This early December day felt unseasonably warm at a balmy seventy-seven degrees Fahrenheit.



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