Now that Ms. Barbara had pointed him in the right direction, Ethan was determined to move forward.
When he got home, he ate the lunch Linda had made, then pulled out the California Yellow Pages and looked up a number.
After a few beeps, an emotionless female voice came on the line.
"This is the California Office of the United States Patent and Trademark Office."
"Hello, ma'am," Ethan said clearly. "I have an invention I'd like to patent. It's a personal application—a provisional one. What documents do I need to bring, and where do I go to apply?"
"Sir, we're glad to see citizens supporting our patent system," the voice replied politely. "The steps for filing a provisional patent as an individual are very simple. You just need to bring your invention's drawings and a written description to our local office. We're located at No. 26, Fourth Street, San Jose. Our office hours are 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., Monday through Friday. And just a reminder: the filing fee for a personal provisional application is seventy dollars."
Ethan hung up. "Seventy bucks? That's pretty steep."
His weekly wage at Magnavox had only been eighty dollars. All the materials for his Snake project—including the second-hand TV and joystick Evelyn had helped him get—had cost just four hundred in total.
And now the government wanted seventy dollars just to file a piece of paper?
"How can ordinary people afford this?" he muttered. "Classic capitalism—everything has a price tag."
Still, expensive or not, this was something he had to do.
Ethan got to work, following the instructions he'd been given. He copied Evelyn's arcade cabinet sketches by hand, focusing especially on the game concept—how the snake would move on its own when the game started, how it would change direction when the joystick was pushed, and so on.
He skipped technical schematics like the circuit diagrams. Barbara had told him that provisional applications weren't examined in detail. What mattered most was clearly stating what part of the invention he wanted legal protection for.
By the time he finished, it was already past one in the afternoon. Then he spent another twenty minutes walking the ten miles to San Jose and submitted his application at the Patent Office's California branch.
"Are you applying for a patent for the video game arcade machine Snake Game in the names of Evelyn Johnson and Ethan Jones?" the clerk asked.
"Yeah," Ethan nodded.
He and Evelyn had agreed beforehand that both their names would appear on the application.
"Alright, please wait a moment."
While people often criticized U.S. government offices for inefficiency, that usually applied to services involving payouts. When it came to collecting money, American agencies were always efficient.
The clerk made some copies, and within five minutes, Ethan was handed a receipt for the provisional application.
It listed the provisional patent number, filing date, title of the invention, and the names of the inventors.
The clerk added, "Mr. Jones, your provisional application is now complete. Within the next year, you may submit a formal application at any time. If you don't, the provisional application will expire exactly one year from today and be permanently archived. If you do submit, your provisional filing will be published with a priority claim."
"Got it. Thanks."
Ethan looked down at the receipt. It was a bit crude—just a slip of thermal paper—but it represented something real. Legal protection. Ownership And most importantly… money.
He hummed as he walked back to the car with a bounce in his step.
A glance at his watch showed it was only half past two. Still early.
So he turned the wheel and pulled over in front of a small video store in San Jose.
A promotional sign caught his eye. A large poster showed a blonde woman in a flowing red dress with the words:
"I Honestly Love You – Olivia Newton-John."
"Holy crap, this song's already out?" Ethan blinked in surprise.
He'd always liked the song—though in his past life, it was a male artist's cover version that stuck with him.
Muttering to himself, he pushed the thought aside and moved toward the store. A middle-aged white man with a round, pleasant face came jogging out.
"Sir, how can I help you today?"
"Do you have any new releases from Barbra Streisand?"
"Ah! You mean The Way We Were? That came out last year."
"Can I take a look at it?"
"Just a moment, sir."
The man disappeared inside and returned a minute later holding a palm-sized cassette. The plastic packaging featured Barbra Streisand in a dramatic black robe.
The album cover made Ethan's eyes light up. He nodded with certainty. "Yes, that's the one. Do you have a deluxe version? The one that comes with a poster?"
"Of course," the store owner replied, disappearing inside again.
When he came out a third time, he was carrying a box the size of a schoolbag.
"This is the vinyl edition. It includes the record, three posters, and a booklet on the album's production. It's fifteen dollars."
"Wrap it up for me. It's a gift."
"Ah, formal packaging? That'll be an extra dollar."
"No problem."
Ethan pulled sixteen dollars from his wallet and handed it over. A few minutes later, the owner returned with a beautifully wrapped gift box—pure white packaging with a soft pink ribbon. Ethan hadn't asked for such delicate touches.
He smiled in appreciation, then turned on the radio and headed for Stanford, the soothing music setting the mood.
Since he'd arrived early, Ethan reclined the driver's seat and stretched out, relaxing in the quiet comfort of the car.
He didn't know how long he'd drifted until a sudden knock on the window brought him back, along with a teasing voice:
"someone's in a good mood today~!"
Ethan blinked awake. Evelyn was already in the passenger seat, her face lit with amusement.
"Looks like everything went well?"
"Uh-huh," Ethan replied with a grin.
He pulled a folded sheet from his coat pocket and flicked it between two fingers. The crisp A4 paper made a satisfying snap as it unfolded.
Evelyn took it, scanned it, and smiled. "Ohh okay! Very impressive!"
"Of course. You helped me get everything prepared. If I couldn't even handle this part, I'd seriously need to find a wall and crash into it."
"what's going on with you today?" Evelyn laughed. "Did you drink a McDonald's milkshake or something?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Or… are you in such a good mood that you're about to thank me? If it's the first one, I'm filing a complaint with Linda—telling her you ate junk food again. And if it's the second... hmph, I don't accept verbal thanks!"
"Okay, okay, I get it."
Ethan pressed his hands together in mock surrender. "So I won't thank you with words."
He pointed to the back seat with his thumb. Evelyn, curious, turned her head—and spotted a carefully wrapped box tucked under a jacket. Without waiting, she reached back and scooped it up.
"For me?"
"Uh-huh."
"Can I open it?"
"Please."
She didn't wait for the sentence to finish. The ribbon was already coming undone.
A beat of silence passed—just one—and then the air exploded with her shriek of joy.
"The Way We Were—on vinyl?!?" She gasped. "Oh my God!!! This is the one I was writing about for you that day! No—wait—I wasn't even finished writing the letter!"
She looked up at him, eyes wide and overwhelmed. "Oh, Ethan! I love you so much!"
Notes:
① The Yellow Pages is a telephone directory first published in the U.S. in 1880, listing businesses by category.
② Walter Hunt was an American inventor best known for creating the safety pin and early versions of the sewing machine.
③ Olivia Newton-John was a singer and actress, famously co-starring with John Travolta in Grease.
④ I Honestly Love You was later covered by Leslie Cheung, among others.