Credit: Google Images |
I wrote this story many
years ago. So I have dug it out from my dusty archives to share here with you
guys. Here goes:
Richard kept blinking at the figures
before him and shaking his head to dislodge the fuzzy feeling. Tears sprang to his
eyes and blurred his vision. The digits tilted and wavered, then steadied
again. Three Million Naira!
He would have screamed, but his throat
had gone dry. He could only swallow hard. Gradually, very gradually, he
regained a bit of his composure. Fortunately, the dainty Customer Care lady did
not appear to notice his hormonal calisthenics and had already turned to the
next person on the queue. Murmuring his thanks, Richard stepped past the door
and fled the bank.
Back at his shanty, he tore out the
booklet again. Apart from the slight blot created by his perspiring palms, the
figures remained constant. Three Million
Naira! The world started spinning and he gave his head a more vigorous
shake.
Minutes earlier, he had stepped into
the bank to evacuate the remaining funds from his Savings Account; about four
thousand odd Naira. He had stopped to confirm his balance and presented his
booklet. It was handed bank to him stating that his account balance was Three
Million Naira! He asked the curt desk Personnel to confirm, and she handed the
booklet back nodding absently while muttering “It is correct, Three Million
Naira”.
What could have yielded this jackpot
for this unemployed law graduate still living on rapidly dwindling goodwill of
his remaining friends? His head scanned possibilities: an anonymous rich
relative? No, his pedigree contrasted sharply with such testamentary largesse. Could
it be those Internet pop-ups at shady sites announcing one to be the lucky
winner of fantastic sums?
There must be a mistake, mistake…the word struggled to the fore
of his subconscious but was smothered by a more frantic whisper: I’m rich, I’m rich!
He grew light-headed again and there
was a ringing in his ears. The world spun faster and swiveled him on to a
lethargic haze.
In this dim state of half-sleep; two
apparitions tumbled out into his room in a puff of smoke and stood before him.
Too bemused to scream, he stared wildly.
The apparitions were miniature men,
about three feet in height, and they both bore an uncanny likeness to him in
both countenance and mannerism. They were similarly clad in the robes and wigs
of lawyers, but the resemblance ended there.
One was good-looking. A reflection of
what Richard always wished he looked like: open-faced and fresh coloured. The
other apparition however possessed all the gnarled and wizened features of
Richard’s nightmares of neglected old age. It also had wise eyes glittering
with cunning.
This apparition addressed him first: “Quick boy, what are you waiting for? The
cash is all yours. Well, all yours less the tiny ten-percent you should hand me
as legal fee” The other apparition cut in- “Pay him no heed son, that sum is not yours legally. It was occasioned
by the perfunctory errors of an overworked Teller. Return it, please”
“Ha!
Listen to that!” Gnarled Face piped. “Overworked!
You walk the streets everyday under a belligerent sun searching for jobs, while
she sits pretty under the air-conditioner…and
she complains of overwork! Be smart boy, to the bank!”
“Just
a minute” Open-Faced apparition pleaded. “Yes,
she loused up, no doubts, but you can still cure the defect. Picture what she
stands to face at the cold hands of the Capitalists she serves. She may be
jailed. Do you wish that to sit on your conscience?”
“Conscience
is an over-rated concept” Gnarled Face hissed.
Open-Faced apparition wagged a finger “son, for every minute the truth is put off,
the wounds of the conscience fester”
“What
wound cuts deeper than the life of deprivation you presently endure? The servitude,
the ridicule, the maddening frustration?” Gnarled Face contorted further with the fury of his
words.
“The after-life
son, of course you believe in it” Open-faced apparition gently warned.
“Wrong!”
shrieked Gnarled Face. “There has
to be a life first before an after-life. This is your chance to go get a life.
Now, not a minute more to waste, to the bank!”
“Not
so fast” Open-Face held out a hand. “Do you
need to sacrifice another life to get your own life then?”
“But
of course!” Gnarled Face cooed. “For life to be fair on one being, it must darken its glow on another.
It is a world of eat or be eaten. Her loss, your gain...”
“What
gains...?” Open-Face began, but Gnarled Face swept in: “Did you not always wish to set up your own Practice? You can afford
that now. For another ten percent fee, I can work on reserving a few good names
for your Firm and scouting ideal office spaces. Life is brief; and you’ve earned
the right to enjoy it!”
Open-Face shook his head. “You wish to build your Practice on blood? Stand by and watch a poor
lady pay with pints of hers? Do the honest thing, give the money back!”
“Honesty
is the excuse of the weak heart. And who is the ultimate winner if you return
the money? Does the Bank even notice the loss? Its eyes are on the mega billion
deals. Oh, do not fret over the poor lady. She had a duty; she broke the duty;
so she naturally suffers the consequent damage”. Our Laws on negligence are
clear on that.” Gnarled Face finished off with a smug smile.
“But
the Law will turn on you as well” Open Face studiously ignored Gnarled Face. “You are currently innocent, but if you
alter your position by spending the cash, guilt accrues”.
“You
are calling an innocent finder a thief now?” Gnarled Face turned on Open Face
with an expression of utter scorn. “Your
aptitude for the Law is suspect! The young man did not set out to steal! He merely
stumbled on a lost item which the Teller had misplaced in the maze of
electronic transfers!” In a softer voice he continued, “My boy, heed him not. Yes, the Law may investigate, but we can tarry
the process a little. Lose your SIM Card, relocate...”
“The
arms of the Law are very long, remember?” Open-Face chipped.
“Who
is scared of the Law?” Gnarled Face fumed. “What we have here is merely a detached and incidental beneficiary of a
mistake. Boy, when the Law comes snooping, we can acknowledge mere indebtedness
as opposed to active theft. For just another ten percent of the sum, I can work
out a convenient repayment plan and your Practice booms meanwhile.”
“The
hasty change of address and phone numbers, are they not suggestive of a guilty
mind?” Open-Face reminded.
“A
matter for the courts to establish, beyond reasonable doubt.” Gnarled Face
sang. “For another ten percent, I will
place a myriad doubts before them.”
Now,
you must hurry before the error is discovered and your account restricted. You
have little time, the banks close by four. And remember; separate withdrawals
from separate branches across town.”
There was a loud pop and the apparitions disappeared
in a cloud of smoke.
The fuzzy haze cleared and Richard sprang awake.
Clutching the Withdrawal Booklet, he stepped out the door, a resolute look on
his face.
Whither he was headed; to point out the error, or to
claim the cash; we may never know.
THE END