"So how come you're not rich, dad?" I asked.
"Because I chose to be a schoolteacher. Schoolteachers really don't think about being rich. We just like to teach. I wish I could help you,
cheap newport cigarettes, but I really don't know how to make money."
Mike and I turned and continued our clean up.
"I know," said my dad. "If you boys want to learn how to be rich, don't ask me. Talk to your dad, Mike."
"My dad?" asked Mike with a scrunched up face.
"Yeah, your dad," repeated my dad with a smile. "Your dad and I have the same banker, and he raves about your father. He's told me several times that your father is brilliant when it comes to making money."
"My dad?" Mike asked again in disbelief. "Then how come we don't have a nice car and a nice house like the rich kids at school?"
"A nice car and a nice house does not necessarily mean you're rich or you know how to make money," my dad replied. "Jimmy's dad works for the sugar plantation. He's not much different from me.
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