account here. You told me that that fine print was just a formality, required by the
state banking act, but that you personally assured me that any time I wanted my
money, I could have it.’
‘And so you can. Let’s change that three weeks to three days. Just go home and write
us a written notice of intent, and three business days later you can close your
account’
Nelson stood up, put his hands flat on Mr Smaterine’s desk. ‘Now just one moment,’
he drawled loudly, `did you or did you not tell Mrs Smith that she could have her
money any rime she wanted it?’
`Sit down, Mr Johnson. And lower your voice. After all, you are not a customer here.
You don’t belong here.’
Nelson did not sit down, did not lower his voice. `Just answer yes or no.’
`I could have you evicted.’
`Try it, just try it. My partner, Mr Brian Smith, this lady’s husband, asked me to
come with Mrs Smith’ – Brian had not -‘because he had heard that your bank was just
a leetle bit reluctant -‘
`That’s slander! That’s criminal slander!’
`- to be as polite to ladies as you are to businessmen. Now – Do you keep your
promise to her? Right now? Or three days from now?’
Mr Smaterine was not smiling. `Wimple! Let’s have a cheque for Mrs Smith’s account’
We all kept quiet while it was made out; Mr Smaterine signed it, handed it to me.
‘Please see that it is correct. Check it against your passbook.’
I agreed that it was correct.
‘Very well. Just take that to your new bank and deposit it. You will have your money
as soon as it clears. Say about ten days.’ He smiled again, but there was no mirth
in it.
‘You said I could have my money now.’
`You have it. There’s our cheque.’
I looked at it, turned it over, endorsed it, handed it to him. ‘I’ll take it now.’
He stopped smiling. ‘Wimple!’
They started counting out banknotes. ‘No,’ I said, ‘I want cash. Not paper issued by
some other bank.’
‘You are hard to please, Madam. This is legal tender.’
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‘But I deposited real money, every time. Not bank notes.’ And I had nickels and
dimes and quarters and sometimes pennies. Once in a while a silver cartwheel. `I
want to be paid back in real money. Can’t you pay me in real money?’
`Of course we can,’ Mr Smaterine answered stiffly. ‘But you will find, ah, over
twenty-five pounds of silver dollars quite cumbersome. That’s why bank certificates
are used for most transactions.’
`Can’t you pay me in gold? Doesn’t a great big bank like this one carry any gold in
its vaults? Fifteen double eagles would be ever so much easier to carry than would
be three hundred cartwheels,’ I raised my voice a little and projected it. `Can’t
you pay me in gold? If not, where can I take this to change it for gold?’
They paid in gold, with the odd change in silver.
Once we were headed south Nelson said, `Whew! What bank, out south do you want?
Troost Avenue Bank? Or Southeast State?’
‘Nellie, I want to take it home and ask Brian to take care of it.’
‘Huh? I mean, yes, Ma’am. Right away:
`Dear, something about this reminds me of 1893. What do you remember about that
year?’
`Eighteen ninety-three… Let me see. I was nine and just beginning to notice that
girls are different. Uh, you and Uncle Ira went to the Chicago Fair. When you got
back I noticed that you smelled good. But it took another five years to get you to
notice me, and I had to slide a pie under you to manage it?
‘You always were a bad boy. Never mind my folly in ’98; what happened in ’93?’
`Hmm… Mr Cleveland started his second term. Then banks started to fail and
everybody blamed it on him. Seems a bit unfair to me – it was too soon after he was
sworn in. The Panic of’93, they called it’
`So they did and my father did not lose anything in it, for reasons he described as