I looked out over the bay, squinting a little as the bright morning sun peeked above the horizon. The gulls were busy circling and swooping as the waves gently lapped at the rocky shore. From my vantage point at the helm of the Tycoon, I could see the small fishing boats tucked into every little cove I passed on my way out to sea.

How I loved the sea! It had been a long time since I had been out, and I had missed it dearly. Even so, it didn't completely erase the ache I still felt from leaving my recent life behind. Mercilessly, my mind leapt back to the day I met Darren, tall, lanky, and weathered by the sun, as he crossed the road to help me change the flat on my beat-up Ford.

"Flat as a pancake, ain't she, ma'am?" he drawled, as he reached into my trunk for the spare and jack. I didn't really need help with my tire, but I sure was happy to get some! I've never been sure just how much to tighten the lug nuts, and didn't really care for getting all the black stuff from the tire on my hands.

"I must have run over a nail or something. These tires are almost worn through, so it doesn't take much." I sighed. "They'll never pass inspection."

"Ma'am, this here spare is flat, too. If you want, I can carry you up to Mack's to get your tires fixed."

I sighed again. This was just my luck. Flat tire, flat spare, and flat broke. I couldn't see any alternative, so nodding acceptance, I followed the cowboy across the street and hopped into the pickup's passenger seat.

On the ride to the service station, I learned that "Darren" was a rancher, my older brother's age, single, and had been on his way to the feed store when he came across me "all broke down on the side of the road." When Darren offered to buy me a cup of coffee while Mack attended to my tires, I trotted along after him as he loped across the street to the diner. A bell on the door jingled tiredly over a yellowed sign which declared that "All Prices are Inclusive of Tax."

"Coffee, black," I said when the server came to take our order. With each sip, life and hope started seeping back into my body. Darren watched me as he drank his tall glass of cold milk.

"You ain't from around here, are you, Kelly?" he asked.

I paused, thinking of the life I'd left behind just two months ago, then offered, "I'm from back East. My family owns a fleet of fishing boats. We've been fishermen since before the Revolutionary War." I chuckled. "They say we have salt water instead of blood running through our veins."

"I reckon my family has milk running through our veins, then. My great, great, great, great granddaddy found gold in California, and when he come back here, he bought hisself a big old ranch and a herd of dairy cattle. We've been dairy ranchers ever since. I could milk a cow before I could walk, my mama always said."

We chatted a little longer, until Darren saw Mack signal from across the street that my car was ready. I thanked Darren profusely and watched as his truck bumped on down the street toward the feed store. I sighed once again, and headed into Mack's for my car.

A couple of weeks later, I was picking up some bread in the Piggly Wiggly, and looked up to see Darren's twinkly eyes looking my way over the bananas. I smiled and went over to say "hi". That conversation led to a date, and that date led to another date, until we were quite the couple.

One day, shortly after I moved in at his ranch, Darren came running to me, and said, "Hurry, Sadie is about to calve. You'll want to see this!" We got to the barn just as the calf's head appeared. In short order, with Darren's assistance, the new little baby was standing and nursing.

"It's like a miracle," I breathed. Such a wonder it was! I named the little calf Bennie, and watched over him proudly as he grew.

My days at the ranch were filled with wonder, joy, and hard work. Darren and I got along exceedingly well, and I grew to love him with all my heart. Even so, something was not right. I began to have trouble sleeping, and spent more and more time staring off into space. I became increasingly restless and wakeful. Darren would come to find me late at night, sitting in a rocker on the porch, staring out at something unseen.

My dreams were of the sea. I could practically smell the salty air, and felt the waves tugging at me, calling me home. I finally opened up to Darren in tears about my feelings. My heart was with Darren, but my soul was with the sea. Try as we could, there was no way to bridge the awful gap.

In the end, Darren needed the ranch as much as I needed the sea. The salt water and milk in our veins was too strong to deny, even for love. So here I was, back at the helm of the Tycoon, on my way out to the fishing waters that were part of my blood. The ache was still there, but the open sea was before me, and I willingly answered her beckoning call.

"Don't worry Jeremy. You can do this."

"No, I can't."

I tried not to smile at the look in Jeremy's eyes. My cousin is a sweet, intelligent guy - but right now, he looked more like a deer in headlights than a respected expert in neural networking.

"Yes, you can. You have a doctorate, for heaven's sake. If you can do that, you can handle a blind date."

"No, I can't. Something happens when I get around woman. Something very, very ugly.

I felt a moment of concern. "You get violent with women?"

His shocked expression put me at ease. "No! But my mind somehow short circuits. I try to give compliments or be romantic and the strangest things come out of my mouth." His faced calmed and he got a far-away look in his eyes. "I wonder if there's some research potential…"

"Earth to Jeremy. Come back, mad scientist."

He smiled at my old nickname for him.

"Now seriously, Jeremy. How bad could it be?"

"Well, one date got upset when we saw a very, very pregnant woman. Apparently saying 'Wow, she looks like she's about to calve' doesn't show the proper amount of respect for the sanctity of motherhood."

I cringed. "And I thought referring to it as a Buddha Belly was bad. That's OK, you have good intentions. My friend Linda will understand."

Jeremy threw up his hands in mock surrender. "I give in. But don't say I didn't warn you. I will not be held responsible if your friend never speaks to you again."

"Why don't we practice?"

To my surprise, red spots appeared on his cheeks.

"Seriously, Steph. I really can't talk to women, at least not on a social level. It's kind of embarrassing."

"More embarrassing than the time we were at the beach house and Stevie pulled down the wall of the outdoor shower - while you were in it?"

He laughed. "Do you remember the look on Aunt Irma's face? You're right, it couldn't be worse than that."

"Good. Now shut your eyes and pretend that I'm your date. We just sat down at the table. The server will be over shortly for our drink order and to tell us about the evening's specials. There lights are low and a small candle flickers in the middle of the table. Soft music is playing in the background. I give you an encouraging smile, waiting for you to say something."

Jeremy sat there. I loudly cleared my throat. "Waiting for you to say something…"

He started. "Oh. Yeah. Ummm…thanks for coming out with me tonight. I really appreciate it."

"How about something a little softer? Maybe a comment about the weather. That's always safe."

He tried again. "Did you see that tycoon that's getting ready to hit Hong Kong? I wonder how a city that size prepares for a storm of that magnitude."

I stifled a laugh. "A tycoon?

"What about a tycoon?"

"I'm pretty sure that a tycoon getting ready to hit Hong Kong won't be classified as a natural disaster."

Jeremy groaned. "Tycoon. Typhoon. See? My mind shorts out."

"Let's keep it simple. Stick to the local weather, like 'wasn't it a nice day today?' Let her carry the conversation."

"I can do that. Wasn't it nice out today?" He repeated the phrase a dozen times.

"You've chatted about the weather and the server has taken your order. Now you have a few minutes to get to know her better. What would you normally say?"

"A buddy once told me that if I get stuck, I should talk about a dream vacation. He said women love that."

"That's a good topic. Tell me about your dream vacation."

"I usually tell her that I want to go to a fancy place in the Caribbean, one of those all-inclusive places where you don't have to pay for anything once you get there."

"Nice, but it's lacking a little romance. How about 'I'd love to visit the Caribbean, taking someone special to a resort where we wouldn't have to worry about anything except whether we should lie on the beach, swim with the dolphins or just stay in our cabana all day."

Jeremy's eyes widened. "Wow. You're really good. A few more lines like that and I might get a second date."

I smiled at his enthusiasm. "What else would you like to practice?"

"How about a closer?"

Now it was my turn to be puzzled. "A closer?"

He blushed again. "You know, something to close the deal. If I really, really like her."

"Something like that needs to come from your heart."

His face fell.

"But you're a fast learner, I know you can do this. You've finished a delicious meal, maybe even shared a dessert, definitely something chocolate. The bill is paid - with a nice tip for the waiter, women notice a cheap tipper. Now what would you do?"

Jeremy closed his eyes. He stayed silent for so long that I thought he'd tired of our little game.

"I'd help her into the car, enjoying the feel of her soft skin under my fingers. When we were on our way, I'd turn on some quiet music. We might talk, or we might not. I'd like to think that, with the right woman, either way would be fine."

He paused, lost in his dream.

"What then?" I softly prompted.

"Once we were outside of her house, I'd ask if I could give her a good night kiss. I wouldn't need words then. My kiss would tell that I ached for her. Maybe, if I get that far, she'll feel the same way."

I was touched by his vision.

"Jeremy, that is so sweet. Any woman would be lucky to have you."

He gave me an impish grin. "Yep. She'll be begging to calve my baby in no time."

I groaned. "Good luck on that date. You'll need it."

Being that was Mother’s Day, I decided to take my mother out for dinner. Actually my girl friend decided for me, I figured I better follow her suggestion if I wanted her to continue being my girlfriend.

I called my mother, who sounded generally surprised to hear from me, especially when I didn’t need money, and invited her out to dine.

“What’s the occasion?” mom asked.

“Well Cindy said, er, I mean Mother’s Day of course. Commemoration of the day you calved me.”

“That makes me either a cow or a glacier, I am not sure which I would prefer to be known as, so where were you planning to take me, and did you make reservations?”

“Reservations?”

“You know, calling ahead to reserve space at a restaurant during their busiest holiday of the year.”

“Oh, those, yeah, well I know the proprietor personally, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Son, I am not so certain I want to eat at a place where you personally know anybody. Do they serve anything besides beer?”

Apparently my mother knew me well. “Now mom, I am taking you to a place where you will dine among royalty.”

“OK, as long as you read the menu to me in French, and I don’t have to wear any of those stupid cardboard crowns. So when are you coming to pick me up?”

Like I said, apparently she knew me too well these days. “Be there in twenty minutes.”

Half an hour later I pulled up at her house. She was standing in the driveway waiting for me.

“I just remembered, did you ever get your brakes fixed on that thing?”

“Well I pulled out some floorboards…”

“So you stop it with your feet like Fred Flintstone or something?”

“No, I find I can nudge the break linkage with my foot and it activates the brakes.”

“Park the thing in the street, we’re taking my car.”

I was happy to oblige since I was getting low on gas anyway, and today was likely to take up the rest of my spare change. I got in the car and we started to drive off.

“So how are you affording this little shindig?” mom asked.
“2-for-1 coupon,” I responded.

“My son the tycoon,” mom said, “So are we dining with the clown or the king, or are we going to a place with real silverware?”

“We are dining at Les Maison de la Roi, and they have silverware if you count the plastic coffee stirers” I replied.

“Burger King it is. I hope the pomme de terre are fresh,” mom said as she pulled into the parking lot.

We entered the restaurant and mom had a seat.

“Bon sois Madame, I am your server tonight, may I suggest the fish?”

“I don’t know, do you have any sushi?”

“No, but I can have the cook not thaw the Fillet O’ Fish for you.”

“If the price of the meal is inclusive of a stomach pump at the local hospital that might work.”

“Perhaps the prime rib then?”

“How about something green? Wait, wait, never mind, just get me a #2, maintenez les oignons.”

“What?”

“It’s French for ”˜hold the onions’. Your 101 class isn’t going so well I take it?”

“Er, we’ll talk about that later.”

“Just as well, my head is starting to ache and I haven’t even eaten yet.”

I went up to place our order and get the food. I devoured mine while mom picked at hers.

“You know, this has been an experience,” mom said as we finished, “no matter whose idea it was, thanks for inviting me out, I really enjoyed it.”

“Yes, we should do this again sometime,” I replied.

“Let’s not overdo it though. Once every 22 years is plenty,” mom concluded.

My name is Ralph Anchor. It may be hard to believe, but since I was just a little kid, I've been dreaming of becoming a really successful businessman, a tycoon. And a really great one, at that. “Mom, when I become rich and successful, I'll fix that sink, so it stops dripping” I kept saying as a young boy. And, when my mother answered; “Boy, not everyone can handle that much money”, then I would turn around, smile, and answer; “I'm sure I can handle it, if I just try”. And that's pretty much my childhood in a nutshell.

After some years, I realized I wasn't a little boy anymore, and that it was time to realize my dream. I'd gone to a decent college, taking subjects like finance and economy, I had the right education. I thought about it, long and hard, until there was no head behind my face, just a large, strong ache, throbbing, that wouldn't stop. But I found the answer; a tycoon of the future. A web-based business would be the best. That was my call, and to get started I needed two things: an idea and a server. I knew I'd have to get sponsored with a server when that time came, so I just needed an idea. I had to research what didn't exist on the internet yet. You probably think it sound hard, but it's even harder than you think. It is common belief that everything exists on the internet, and I was about to believe that.

One day, something happened, finally. A random incident that would change my life forever. The doorbell to my apartment rang, I was living in the city by then. When I opened, a man dressed in a green uniform stood there. Behind him was a truck that reeked of old, piled grass that a lawn-mower leaves behind. “R. Anchor? Is that you?” the man said with a south-eastern accent. “Well, yes. Ralph Anchor” I replied, wondering what was in the truck. “I've got your order, sir. Here, just sign this while I help her out of the back” he explained, and handed me a form. I wasn't sure if it was actually my name, the hand writing was completely incomprehensible. A three-digit number was written on the piece of paper, following a dollar-symbol, something that was really starting to worry me.

And out of the truck she came. Long, thin legs, innocent eyes and a puff of hair in her forehead. She could barely walk on her four legs, it seemed, though her tail was waving like a pendulum and she was chewing a lump of cud. The calf before me seemed very out of place on the pavement. “Here she is, sir, her mother calved only some months ago, and she's just started the ordinary diet” he explained. I looked down at the piece of paper again. “This must be a mistake, I haven't ordered any cows-” “I started. “Calf, sir. She's still a calf” he corrected.. “With all due respect sir, if you don't take her in, she'll end up as some pounds of fine steak, a pair of boots and a bowl of jelly. You don't want that, do you?” he asked. She was staring at me, and I still don't know how a cow could have such innocent eyes. I took her in, believe me or not, but refused to pay. I remember the truck as if it was in front of me yesterday. ASTA it said ”“ Agricultural Services of Transport, America. And, in lack of anything better, that's just what I called her. Asta.

My mind was suddenly occupied with something else; how to take care of a calf in a two-room apartment. The library couldn't help me, ASTA couldn't help me, not even the internet could help me. I searched everywhere, but there was no information or discussion on the matter. Only that the urban phenomena of having farm-animals as house-pets was actually getting more usual. Goats, pigs, you name it. But everyone else that had bought them seemed to know what they were doing.

Miraculously, as my ability to think about two things in parallel awoke, I knew what I would do with my life. I knew how I was going to be rich. I knew how I was going to become a tycoon. I even bought a web-address, really cheap, and put together a wonderful presentation. I was ready to conquer the companies, the ones who would support my very own business.

A mere week later, I took a cab, or rather a van, to InterMedia, a big company that I'd luckily managed to arrange a meeting with. Only two stories up, and there I was. Everything was in place.

“Hello everyone, I am Ralph Anchor, and I come to you with a great idea” I said, and clicked the remote, which changed the picture on the wall. “FarmTogether.com” I said, and a logo depicting a cow and a couch appeared over the slogan 'a living room or a ranch ”“ what's the difference?'. “Let me explain” I suggested, and they let me. I explained that urban homes were buying unusual pets like goats and cows, and that the phenomena would probably spread to ordinary households. I stated that there was no place on the internet, or anywhere else, that would let you find out about how to care for these 'exotic' pets. “A leading site for information and discussion on care of farm-critters. From households to industries inclusive”. They liked it, believe it or not. But they had one final question for me. “Who is going to organize all this?” they asked. I smiled, and answered: “I'm sure I can handle it” and thought for a moment. “If I just try”.