It was siesta time at work. I was lying back drinking a cold pineapple Jarritos when Alejandro, the most ambitious and longest-surviving member of my crew, sat down next to me.
“Hey, Desperado. You want to go with me to a seminar tonight?”
“What kind of seminar?”
“It’s the Master Wealth seminar.” He looked at me seriously. “I’m not going to be cutting rich people’s lawns forever. Someday someone will be cutting mine.”
“Amen,” I said. “How much is it?”
“It’s free.”
I looked at him skeptically. “Nothing’s free.”
“It’s free to get in. But then they sell packages and books, things you have to pay for. Like real estate coaching, stuff like that.”
“What happens if you don’t buy anything?”
“Nothing.”
I thought it over. “Yeah, I’ll go with you. What time?”
“It starts at nine. We should leave at eight. It’s going to be crowded.”
“I won’t be late.”
The Master Wealth seminar was held in the grand ballroom at the LAX Marriott. Alejandro and I walked in to heart-pounding loud music. The room was full of people, more than five hundred I guessed, most of them nicely dressed in business attire. There was more energy there than at a discotheque. I had never experienced anything like it before and was easily swept up into it. The place looked, to me, like success.
The event was a combination of religious revival, political rally, and self-improvement seminar all channeled to one objective, ostensibly to make us all unspeakably rich for the good of the planet.
The presenter that night was a man I’d never heard of before but seemed to be well known by the audience: McKay Benson. I was taken with him immediately. He was a tall, charismatic, fiftyish man dressed immaculately in a dark-blue suit with a crisp, starched white shirt and bright-red silk tie with a matching handkerchief peeking from his breast pocket. He had thick salt-and-pepper hair and a voice that rose and fell in timbre like an old-time evangelist’s.
He controlled the stage like a master, keeping the audience engaged and mesmerized, as much with his delivery as with his message. He told us how, as a fourteen-year-old, he was left to care for his mother and two siblings when his father abandoned the family. He shared the story with such pathos that many around me, women and men, were crying.
“There’s an ancient Chinese saying,” he said. “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. I was ready. I was hungry.” He looked out over the audience. “Is anyone else out there hungry?”
“Yes!” everyone shouted.
“Are you sure?”
The room echoed with a still louder response. “Yes!”
“Starving!” a man next to me shouted.
“That’s right where I was,” McKay said. “I was hungry and ready and the teacher appeared—someone I never expected. A kindly multimillionaire who taught me the secrets to wealth. Who here wants to know those secrets? The secrets that made me the multimillionaire I am today!”
The room roared.
“As much as I’d like to, I don’t have time to sit down with each one of you and teach you. It took me months to learn these secrets and years to perfect them. And besides,” he said, grinning, “you couldn’t afford my one-on-one time. But what you can afford is the supercharged Wealth Master course I’ve created to teach you those timeless principles of wealth.”
He crouched down at the edge of the stage to speak to someone far from where I sat. I could only see the back of the man’s head.
“You there. Yes, you. Let me ask you a question. If there were a safe right here on this stage, with a million dollars inside, what would you pay for the combination?” McKay held the microphone out to the guy. “Speak into the mic, please.”
“Whatever you want,” the man answered. Everyone laughed.
“Wrong answer,” McKay said. “The correct answer is, ‘As little as you’ll take to give it to me.’ ” He stood. “That’s what I’ve done for you. The millions are there waiting for you. I alone hold the combination. So the question is, How little can I charge you?”
“You’re probably thinking somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty thousand. It would be worth it, right? Fifty thousand to get a million dollars? You’d be a fool to not jump on that. But I’m not asking for fifty thousand. I’m not asking for twenty-five thousand. I’m not even asking for ten thousand.
“Now, some of you might be wondering why I would be willing to let this information, the combination to the safe, go for so little. Lest you discount the value of my gift, I’ll tell you why.” His voice softened with sincerity. “Twenty years ago I made a promise to my teacher—that dying millionaire who taught me these lessons. He said, ‘McKay, all I ask in return is that once you get to the top, promise me that you’ll throw the ladder back down for those still down below. Just like I did.’ ”
McKay looked at the audience with the tenderness of a loving father. “So that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m throwing down that ladder. It’s my gift. My offering. Are you going to take it? Or are you going to just keep living the same desperation you have for your whole life? You know what they say about insanity? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result. Is that you? Or are you ready to take the ladder?”
“Throw us the ladder,” someone shouted.
“Take my money already!” came another voice.
McKay laughed. “Smart,” he said. “Smart. I thought you looked smart when I walked in tonight.” He looked down at his microphone for a moment, then slowly looked back up. “How many of you are ready to name it and claim it!”
The crowd roared their approval.
“Repeat after me,” McKay said. “Name it and claim it!”
“Name it and claim it!” they shouted.
“Stand up now and shout it. Name it and claim it!”
“Name it and claim it!” came the echo.
McKay grinned. “All right. All right. You got it. You got it. I knew you were smart.”
Honestly, I had come to the seminar curious but skeptical—I think that was true of many in the room—but I had never before experienced the power of group persuasion. It would be years before I would fully understand how well planned and scientific the pitch I was hearing was, how expertly we were being manipulated and maneuvered. Before long I was on my feet shouting with the crowd.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” McKay said, sounding remarkably magnanimous. “Up here, in this corner of the hall, I have reserved exactly one hundred chairs for VIPs. Just one hundred of you. No, don’t go yet. In just one minute I’ll tell you how you can be one of the lucky ones in these chairs.”
He walked to the other side of the stage. “How much is the ladder I’m offering? You know what it’s worth. It’s a bargain at almost any price. But today, it’s just four thousand, nine hundred ninety-five dollars.” All around me people started to stand. “Hold on, not yet. I’m not through. Like I said, it’s just four thousand, nine hundred ninety-five dollars. But for the first one hundred VIPs in these chairs, I will sell the ladder for just nineteen hundred ninety-five—that’s a three-thousand-dollar savings! You may now take the chairs.”
People didn’t walk to the VIP chairs, they stampeded. Two professional-looking people collided in the aisle next to me and were sent sprawling on the floor. People who weren’t fast enough to get the chairs threw their wallets and credit cards on stage. They couldn’t give their money to this man fast enough. I did the math—one hundred chairs, two thousand each. Two hundred thousand dollars in an hour. Incredible.
For the second time in my life I was truly starstruck. More than that, I felt I had finally found the path to my dream. This is what I had been waiting for. If I wanted to be rich and famous, this was a man who knew the way. I didn’t care about the information for wealth he was selling, I wanted what he was demonstrating. I wanted to learn how he handled people the wa
y he did. Best of all, this man had made it on his own. His childhood was like mine, and still he made it. McKay Benson was my new role model.
Alejandro was less impressed. “Man, it’s nineteen hundred ninety-five for the starter kit. They want three thousand dollars for their Premier Wealth Package. If I had three thousand dollars, I wouldn’t need their frickin’ wealth package. Let’s get out of here, bro.”
“I’m not leaving yet,” I said. “I have to meet this guy.”
“Why?”
I looked at him seriously. “Because the dude is magic.”
An hour later, after the mob had lightened some, I approached McKay. Before I got to him he turned to me, his eyes blazing with energy. “What do you need, son?”
The question itself was powerful, throwing me off balance. “You were amazing. You are the greatest salesman in the world.”
“Thank you.”
“How did you do that?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“What you did from the stage. People were throwing credit cards. It was like . . . sorcery. I want to learn to do what you do.”
He looked both surprised and pleased. Then he raised his hands and turned back to speak to the small group that still surrounded him. “God asked King Solomon if he wanted wealth or wisdom. Solomon chose wisdom and the wealth came on its own. We have a Solomon here today.”
“Is it something you were born with?” I asked. “Or can it be learned?”
“A very wise question,” he said. “When I started doing this, I couldn’t sell a cup of ice water to a thirsty millionaire crawling through Death Valley. Then I read a book that changed everything.”
“What book?”
“Now why would I tell you that? Would you ask the chairman of Coca-Cola for the recipe for Coke?”
“No, sir.”
“Then don’t ask me.”
“I’ll work for you for free.”
“So I can train my future competition?”
“I could never be your competition,” I said. “I would work for you.”
“Until you don’t,” he said. “In the end, everyone’s out for themselves.”
“I’m different,” I said. “I had a tough childhood like yours. My dad used to take me to the Dumpsters every Saturday morning so we could pick through them.”
Something about what I said seemed to affect him. He looked at me with sudden interest. “What’s your name?”
“Charles James.”
“James like the author?”
“Like the outlaw,” I said. “Jesse James was my great-great-great-grandfather.”
McKay smiled. “That’s good. You’ll want to use that.” He looked at me as if he had X-ray vision. “What are you currently doing with your life, Mr. James?”
“I do yard work in Beverly Hills. I plan to go to college next year.”
“College,” he said derisively. “College is for people who can’t think for themselves. What do you plan to study?” Before I could answer he said, “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Unless you’re studying engineering or medicine, it’s all a waste of time. So you have ambition, do you?”
“I always have,” I said. “I want to learn what you do. I want to be like you.”
He suddenly turned to the crowd. “Excuse me for a moment. I’ll be right back.” McKay put his hand on my shoulder and took me aside from the group. “Where do you live?”
“In Culver City.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s near downtown L.A.”
He nodded. “Good. Over the next four weeks we have sixteen seminars in L.A. and Southern California. Can you make them?”
“Are they at night?”
“Wrong answer,” he said.
“Yes,” I said. “I can make them.”
“Right answer. After my presentation, did you see my people walking through the crowd collecting contracts?”
“Yes, sir.”
“They’re called contract runners. That’s what I want you to do. After each presentation, you go out and gather the sheep and take their credit cards. That’s how it works. From the moment I leave the stage every second delayed makes them less likely to open their wallets. It takes a confident and enthusiastic personality to be a contract runner. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very good.”
“Does it pay?”
His eyebrows rose. “I thought you said you wanted to work for free. Did I hear you wrong?”
“No, sir.”
“Then I’d be a fool to pay you, wouldn’t I?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Does college pay?”
“No, sir. It costs.”
“See, you’re already learning. Be glad that I’m not charging you to work for me. Now I need to get back to working. I’ll see you at the next seminar.” He turned back to his eager crowd.
I went home that night a changed man. It was my epiphany, my Mount of Transfiguration. That night I told Monica that I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
For hundreds of years, people have unsuccessfully practiced alchemy, seeking to turn lead into gold. They were just using the wrong gray matter as a base.
—CHARLES JAMES’S DIARY
I spent the next four weeks following McKay as he toured Southern California. I still worked my day job but four evenings a week, after work, I went home and cleaned up and then, even before Monica got home, drove off to the next seminar, driving as far south as San Diego and Oceanside.
Even though it was McKay’s show, there were other presenters, each hawking a different product. I took notes during each of the presentations, studying the presenters’ styles and pitches. Not surprisingly, McKay was by far the best of them all and the crowd favorite.
Then, as the presentations began to wind up, I’d check in with McKay’s staff and help them collect contracts and credit cards.
Everywhere McKay went, people responded the same. It didn’t matter their race, gender, or education. I’ve heard critics say that he preyed on the uneducated, but that wasn’t the case—in fact the opposite seemed to be true. The more educated the people were, the more likely they were to lay down their money. McKay had created the ultimate business model. It’s like he just turned on a faucet and money poured out.
Even though I was exhausted from my double work life, I was hooked. When it was time for the Master Wealth seminars to move out of California, I had to find a way to stay with them, which would mean that I’d have to quit my job.
I went to McKay to explain my situation. I hadn’t even finished when he said, “I like you, James. You’ve proven yourself. I’ll bring you on full-time. Go find Claudia and get your W-four.”
I couldn’t wait to tell Monica when I got home. She was brushing her teeth at the bathroom sink.
“I did it. I’ve been offered a paid position with the Master Wealth seminars.”
“Congratulations,” she said. “How much does it pay?”
“It’s mostly commission at first. But they give me a daily stipend of fifty bucks and an extra fifty dollars a show plus two percent commissions on all contracts I bring in. One of the guys there is making more than ten thousand a month.”
“Ten thousand a month?” she said. “What do you sell?”
“Dreams.”
She rinsed out her mouth and then said, “What do you mean?”
“We sell educational packages that teach people how to be rich. McKay has a whole line of DVD and CD packages with workbooks that go with his seminar. They run from two to ten thousand dollars.”
She turned to me. “You’d have to be rich to afford that.”
“Most people just take out loans.”
“That sounds risky.”
“Life is risky,” I said. “And you don’t make money without spending a little.”
“Did they teach you to say that?”
“Yeah. Did I sound stupid?”
“No. You were pretty convincing. When do you start?”
“Next Monday. We have a show in San Francisco, then we head up to Seattle, Spokane, and Portland.”
She looked stunned. “You’re traveling out of state with them?”
“Of course. All the shows are on the road.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Three weeks at a time, give or take a few days.”
Monica looked at me as if I’d just told her that her father had died.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“We’ve never been apart that long. I’ve liked how we’ve been.”
I put my arms around her. “Me too. But I won’t be gone long. And this is the answer to our dreams.”
She kissed me. “Not mine,” she said, looking into my eyes. “I already have mine.”
Chapter Thirty
I have proposed to the love of my life.
—CHARLES JAMES’S DIARY
As much as I missed Monica, it was exciting to be on the road with the show and the rest of the crew. I rose quickly up the Master Wealth ranks. Within three months I was their number two salesman. Two months later I was number one—an achievement that earned me a thousand-dollar-a-week bonus. I was making bank. I made more in one month than my father sometimes made in a year.
For the first time in my life I discovered the invisible gifts of my horrific childhood. Spending Saturday mornings in Dumpsters gave me an ineradicable hunger for success that sheer ego or ambition could never provide. Life had backed me into a corner and forced me to fight. It made me different from the other salespeople. For me success wasn’t about ego or prestige, it was life or death. It was the fear of going back to where I came from. Success was keeping out of the Dumpster.