Part 3:
***
I watched the sun creep up around the trees and the buildings of the small town. Slowly (or quickly in the grand scheme of things) people began to shuffle about, eager to be on their day's business. I had stopped to rest on a park bench. There was a particularly brilliant Fir tree about 20 feet in front of it. I spent the last couple hours of the morning watching. Tree-watching right? I know. But you're not just watching the tree. Squirrels scamper up and down it, birds fly in and out of it. It was quite exciting when compared to the tedium of the mountaintop. It was about ten o'clock when I finally stretched and stood up to make my way to the bank. I could have left earlier, but I figured most people would be working at this time so the bank would be less crowded. After 50 years of solitude, I wasn't sure how well I would blend with people.
As I was walking to the store, I young man rolled past me on a small wooden board with four wheels. It was bent up at the ends and had what appeared to be roofing tile on top, but it was all one piece. The young man saw me looking at him.
"Whatchu lookin' at Hoss?"
"Hoss?" I replied. I raised an eyebrow and watched as he rolled by. He glared until he was past me.
"Hoss?" I repeated to myself. Obviously there was a lot that I would have to catch up on before I began to fit back in with people.
I steadily made my way to the bank. It didn't take all that long given the size of the town. Fifteen minutes later I was stepping through the door. At first I was startled. This bank looked nothing like the banks I remember. Back in the 50s there was a gigantic door to a safe room in every big bank. This looked more like an office than a bank.
A man in a suit walked by. "Hello! Welcome to Chase!" He smiled and then continued on. As I looked around I noticed there were what seemed to be television set mounted on the walls. I wasn't too surprised though. I understood that technology was bound to advance in leaps and bounds. I walked through the main thoroughfare of the bank and snaked my way through the velvet ropes and stopped when a sign said to do so.
A pretty, young woman behind the counter smiled at me, "Welcome to Chase! How may I help you?"
I smiled back, silently wishing I had taken a bit more care shaving. "Hello! Um, this may seem like a strange question, but my grandfather opened an account with Chase National back in the 50s. I'm his only living descendant, so he left me the account number and password for the account. I don't suppose you could help me find it?"
The young woman blinked quizzically for a moment, obviously trying to think of how to respond. "Um, Sir, our accounts don't have passwords, but if you give me the account number I can see if I can look it up for you?"
"Ah, I see, yes, the account number is twenty-seven, forty-three, eighty-two, one hundred twenty-six."
The young woman typed the numbers into what appeared to be a typewriter with a cord coming out of it.
"Ah, yes, this is a very old account. May I have the name on the account please?"
"My grandfather's name was Dominic Watson."
"There we go," she typed in the name and stopped suddenly. "Sir, it appears there is a password on the account. I've never heard of such a thing. May I have the password please?" She blushed awkwardly.
I smiled back at her, "Of course, the password is 654185134896184." She stopped typing halfway through. Perhaps I should have gone slower. "Apologies. 654, 185, 134, 896, 184."
She blushed again, but smiled gratefully. "There we go. And what is your name Sir?"
I smiled, "Dominic Watson, the third." I grinned a silly grin and she grinned back.
"I've set you as the main account holder. Normally there would have needed to be paperwork done, but there's a note here saying that if the password is known, it is enough." She moved a small plastic tool with a cord around on a piece of cloth. She clicked it a few times. "Alright, everything is set, and now to see the account bala-" She cut herself off.
"Is there a problem?"
"No, no problem. it's just..." she paused.
"My grandfather invested in gold back in the 50s. I didn't really understand what was written in the will, but it went something along the lines of getting rid of a traditional interest rate for his money and instead basing it off of an equivalent amount of gold... or something like that."
"Oh, I've never heard of that." She seemed to have regained her composure. "Your account balance is $313,841,324.20."
Even I was taken aback by the amount. I had never imagined that the gold I dug with my own hands so long ago would be worth this much money. As I thought about it, I remembered that this was only half of what I had dug. "Oh my. Um, might I withdraw $1,000? I have to travel for a little bit."
"Sure! We can do that, how would you like it?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Do you want it in bills, a cashier's check, a money order?"
"Oh, bills will be fine. Hundreds should suffice."
"Alright, just a second then."
After a few more clicks of the strange plastic tools, a drawer opened and she pulled out ten $100 bills. She then counted them onto the counter in front of me.
"Thank you very much," I said.
"And thank you for stopping at Chase! have a wonderful day Sir!"
I smiled and pocketed the money. I turned and walked out of the bank. I smiled to myself and made my way to a clothing store. After all, there was no better way to stand out than to be out of fashion.
***
Can you imagine going into the bank to discover you had hundreds of millions of dollars? Crazy.
***
I watched the sun creep up around the trees and the buildings of the small town. Slowly (or quickly in the grand scheme of things) people began to shuffle about, eager to be on their day's business. I had stopped to rest on a park bench. There was a particularly brilliant Fir tree about 20 feet in front of it. I spent the last couple hours of the morning watching. Tree-watching right? I know. But you're not just watching the tree. Squirrels scamper up and down it, birds fly in and out of it. It was quite exciting when compared to the tedium of the mountaintop. It was about ten o'clock when I finally stretched and stood up to make my way to the bank. I could have left earlier, but I figured most people would be working at this time so the bank would be less crowded. After 50 years of solitude, I wasn't sure how well I would blend with people.
As I was walking to the store, I young man rolled past me on a small wooden board with four wheels. It was bent up at the ends and had what appeared to be roofing tile on top, but it was all one piece. The young man saw me looking at him.
"Whatchu lookin' at Hoss?"
"Hoss?" I replied. I raised an eyebrow and watched as he rolled by. He glared until he was past me.
"Hoss?" I repeated to myself. Obviously there was a lot that I would have to catch up on before I began to fit back in with people.
I steadily made my way to the bank. It didn't take all that long given the size of the town. Fifteen minutes later I was stepping through the door. At first I was startled. This bank looked nothing like the banks I remember. Back in the 50s there was a gigantic door to a safe room in every big bank. This looked more like an office than a bank.
A man in a suit walked by. "Hello! Welcome to Chase!" He smiled and then continued on. As I looked around I noticed there were what seemed to be television set mounted on the walls. I wasn't too surprised though. I understood that technology was bound to advance in leaps and bounds. I walked through the main thoroughfare of the bank and snaked my way through the velvet ropes and stopped when a sign said to do so.
A pretty, young woman behind the counter smiled at me, "Welcome to Chase! How may I help you?"
I smiled back, silently wishing I had taken a bit more care shaving. "Hello! Um, this may seem like a strange question, but my grandfather opened an account with Chase National back in the 50s. I'm his only living descendant, so he left me the account number and password for the account. I don't suppose you could help me find it?"
The young woman blinked quizzically for a moment, obviously trying to think of how to respond. "Um, Sir, our accounts don't have passwords, but if you give me the account number I can see if I can look it up for you?"
"Ah, I see, yes, the account number is twenty-seven, forty-three, eighty-two, one hundred twenty-six."
The young woman typed the numbers into what appeared to be a typewriter with a cord coming out of it.
"Ah, yes, this is a very old account. May I have the name on the account please?"
"My grandfather's name was Dominic Watson."
"There we go," she typed in the name and stopped suddenly. "Sir, it appears there is a password on the account. I've never heard of such a thing. May I have the password please?" She blushed awkwardly.
I smiled back at her, "Of course, the password is 654185134896184." She stopped typing halfway through. Perhaps I should have gone slower. "Apologies. 654, 185, 134, 896, 184."
She blushed again, but smiled gratefully. "There we go. And what is your name Sir?"
I smiled, "Dominic Watson, the third." I grinned a silly grin and she grinned back.
"I've set you as the main account holder. Normally there would have needed to be paperwork done, but there's a note here saying that if the password is known, it is enough." She moved a small plastic tool with a cord around on a piece of cloth. She clicked it a few times. "Alright, everything is set, and now to see the account bala-" She cut herself off.
"Is there a problem?"
"No, no problem. it's just..." she paused.
"My grandfather invested in gold back in the 50s. I didn't really understand what was written in the will, but it went something along the lines of getting rid of a traditional interest rate for his money and instead basing it off of an equivalent amount of gold... or something like that."
"Oh, I've never heard of that." She seemed to have regained her composure. "Your account balance is $313,841,324.20."
Even I was taken aback by the amount. I had never imagined that the gold I dug with my own hands so long ago would be worth this much money. As I thought about it, I remembered that this was only half of what I had dug. "Oh my. Um, might I withdraw $1,000? I have to travel for a little bit."
"Sure! We can do that, how would you like it?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Do you want it in bills, a cashier's check, a money order?"
"Oh, bills will be fine. Hundreds should suffice."
"Alright, just a second then."
After a few more clicks of the strange plastic tools, a drawer opened and she pulled out ten $100 bills. She then counted them onto the counter in front of me.
"Thank you very much," I said.
"And thank you for stopping at Chase! have a wonderful day Sir!"
I smiled and pocketed the money. I turned and walked out of the bank. I smiled to myself and made my way to a clothing store. After all, there was no better way to stand out than to be out of fashion.
***
Can you imagine going into the bank to discover you had hundreds of millions of dollars? Crazy.