In Tregabov's novel The Shiva
, the main character Mooney finds himself in a psychiatric ward after experiencing problems in his marriage and his business. As luck would have it, he meets Dennis, an Indian seer (psychic) at the casino and Dennis promises to help Mooney.
Dennis is a rez Indian, from around Winnipeg, just like Mooney. He's also a stock picker. It's early 2008 and he sees the sub-prime mortgage crash coming. So he brings together some friends from North End Winnipeg to invest their savings in an attempt to cash in on the inevitable crash.
Excerpt from Chapter 5 of The Shiva:
Dennis, in his mid-fifties, was over six feet tall, with a magnificent head. He was barrel-chested with an impressive belly: one could always find action betting on when Dennis's jeans would finally fall down, as he wore them just under his belly, while clinging miraculously to a flat ass in the back. Yet he was a nimble dancer, and looked elegant in a tuxedo, as Mooney remembered, having watched him once do the cha-cha-cha at a benefit dance for inner-city kids.
Dennis' eyes were so brown it was hard to see his pupils, so you didn't know whether he was looking at you or not. He had a radiant melancholy, but his manner was always earnest, almost vehement.
He was famous for his response to Suddy, when he had asked Dennis what it was like to be an Indian.
- Very conspicuous, said Dennis.
- Indian is not the correct locution these days, Suddy, said Oz.
Sammy and Dennis had just gotten back from playing pai gow, where they both lost about fifteen bucks each. They were now all sitting in a leatherette booth around a table, their table, having coffee and danishes and fries, and they hadn't seen Mooney for a long time. They shoved over in friendly unison as soon as he sat down.
- Dennis, you know something about stock picking, don't you? asked Mooney.
- His reputation precedes him, said Suddy.
- That's what reputations are for, said Oz.
- How come your brother Dave never invited me to the briss? asked Suddy.
- You'll have to ask Dave, Suddy.
- You look different, Mooney.
- It's the eyelashes.
- He's on the same medicine as me. Thickens the eyelashes, Sammy said.
- Oz, you look like crap, said Dennis.
- That's exactly what my last doctor told me, and we planted him last week.
- Dr. Schwartz?
- Him we buried years ago. No, another one, an Indian from India. No offense, Dennis.
- None taken.
- Dr. Patel?
- So you know something about picking stocks, Dennis, or not?
Yes, Dennis knew something about stocks; he was something of a hotshot day-trading stock picker. In fact, Oz called him the Equities Rabbi.
Mooney looked at Dennis, his face expectant.
- Two words, Mooney, first word: big, second word: short, Dennis said. That's all I need to say.
- Oh, yeah.
- Short the bastards, Dennis said. Get ready for it.