The Bank

John Harper woke to the cold of the room. This didn’t use to bother him, but after living far longer than was useful, time had caught up with him. Arthritis in both hands on any given day, a bum leg from the war, and gray hair down to his shoulders, he was a sight.
“Damn cold,” he muttered as he sat up and started pulling on his long johns and socks. He didn’t bother with a light just yet, finding everything had become old shoe in the last seventy years.
Dressed for the morning, he headed downstairs to the kitchen. He forgot, again, to program the coffee pot and had to make the coffee himself.
“Damn shit,” he muttered while measuring coffee. He also wanted to pack a small lunch for the day. He got hungry down at the bank. ‘Peanut butter and jelly were easier to chew’ he thought, going to the pantry. Grape jelly was his favorite so of course he was out.
“Shit fire,” he said to himself as he used the strawberry instead. Sandwiches made and the coffee smelling heavenly, John grabbed the old silver Thermos off the top shelf and took a pork chop and two ice teas out of the icebox putting them on the counter. He went back to the pantry and opened the box of cupcakes he got last week, in town. All they had were the pink ones and he had had to endure the snickers of the young punk at the register. ‘What the Hell was the kid doing with blue hair and earrings in his lip?’ he thought while putting the cupcakes with the rest of the food.
“Damn kids” he spoke to no one.
Saying that, he thought of Jimmy. Jimmy had been gone now going on to twenty five

years. Vietnam had taken him and a lot of other good boys.

“Damn War” he mumbled.

John had been married way back when but she had left him without a word; she had also

left him Jimmy. Times then were hard. Working the farm and raising the boy but he

somehow managed. Why, he and Jimmy had made the trip to the bank loads of times.

It was his job to pack everything while John tended the livestock.

Shaking his head and having everything he needed for the day, John headed for the door.

On the way out he grabbed his hat off the antler, then he stopped. ‘What are you missing’

he checked. ‘Keys in my pocket, food in the bag, coffee, pork chop yep, everything’ he

finished. He locked the door and turned down the walk.

Dog was waiting, as John had known he would be. John never had bothered naming the

stray and now Dog answering

to Dog seemed to work just fine. Dog wagged his tail and licked john’s hand, ready for

the day.

“C’mon Dog”, he said as he headed out.

He enjoyed walking to the bank and at this time of year the leaves were all different

colors. The sky was just getting that red tinge at the horizon and there was a scattered

frost on the ground when he hit the main road. He picked up his pace having worked out

the stiffness coming down the drive. Dog was having a grand time sniffing everything as

if he hadn’t ever made the trip before. John used to have to drive this road five days a

week to work after the farm played out. John didn’t drive as much as he used to. Hell, he

didn’t do a lot of things he used to. No more bars at night, no more working till sunset

every day, well, some of the things he didn’t do he didn’t miss.

Dog scared up a rabbit and took off barking and had made John jump.
“Damn dog,” he muttered.
John had been walking this road to the bank forever, and could have walked blindfolded. He knew where to stop and sit on a stump if he got tired. He knew where to pick the best black berries. Hell, he knew this road like he knew the farm. And like the farm, this road had changed. He remembered a time when only one or two cars ever came down this road. Not any more. Ever since the new subdivision a couple of miles away was put in, there was actually traffic. “But not this time of day, no sir,” he thought.
No sooner had John thought those words that he saw headlights coming up the road. He stopped and stood on the side of the road to let the car pass. Dog also heard the car and came running. John followed the lights until it occurred to him that they would be almighty close to him. He backed up a step and tripped on a beer can. As he was falling, the car clipped his Thermos in his hand spun him around. The last thing John saw was the brake lights coming on.
“Damn cars,” he mumbled and passed out.
He came to some minutes later with some kid shaking his shoulder.
“Hey, old man, you alright?”
John felt himself and apart from being sore in the hindquarters, everything seemed all right. He started to sit up and had to push Dog away because Dog was right worried about him. The kid helped him by picking up his pack and Thermos.
“Man oh man, am I going to get in trouble or what,” cried the kid.
John looked again at the kid in the light from the car. For a moment he thought it was Jimmy. John was about to say something when he saw the blue hair. It was that damn kid from the grocery, except he couldn’t see the lip rings. Closing his eyes to get rid of the image of Jimmy, he said loudly
“What you thinking speeding down this road”. He was over getting bumped into the ditch and now he was just plain mad.
“I didn’t see you in the dark Old man,” replied the kid, also loudly.
“What’s your problem, I’m the one got tagged” John said.
“I was on my way home from my job at the all night drive-in. I can’t lose that job because it helps the family” came the reply. “Besides, you should be more careful about walking on the road”.
“What’s your name, boy?” asked John.
“Richard, but everybody calls me Scooter” answered the kid.
“Well Scooter, it’s your lucky day. You can carry my stuff to the bank for me this fine morning” John said with just a little anger left in his voice.
“Not today old man, I gotta go home” Scooter told him while walking back to his car.
“Well, you just watch for me in the mornings you hear” called John as Scooter drove off.
“Damn kids” he muttered as he started to pick his things up off the ground.
John made the trip to the bank several more times that week and saw Scooter drive by just about every morning. One morning Scooter stopped, got out of the car still wearing his work apron and hair net, and waited for John.
“Hey old man, where are you going at this time of day anyway” he asked.
“I’m headed to the bank” John answered “if it’s any of your damn business”.
John thought a second and added “Come along and I’ll show you, Scooter”.
Scooter went and parked his car on the side of the road. He threw the apron and net in the back seat and came back to John who handed him some of the stuff he had packed that morning.
“Ain’t you wonderin about the bank boy” asked John.
“No, I figure I’ll see soon enough,” said Scooter.
“I have seen you at the store though” continued Scooter, shifting the stuff around in his arms.
“Pink cupcakes for an old man was funny a couple weeks ago,” John mumbled under his breath.
“What?” asked Scooter.
“Nothin boy” John said. “We turn here,” he indicated. There was a trail on the right, heading down a small hill.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. John was sure Scooter was wondering about the trail but said nothing. To John, the trail was well lit, but it was pretty dark in the surrounding woods.
“Old man, where exactly are we going” asked Scooter a minute later. “There ain’t no bank here in these woods”.
Instead of answering the boy, John kept walking and Dog kept running ahead. Dog was fairly excited by now, as they were close. They came out into a small meadow and just on the other side was a lake. It glistened almost black in the early morning light. John stopped by an old cottonwood tree and picked up two poles, a folding chair, and an old burlap bag. He went to the bank and set up the chair and sat down. He put the ice teas in the burlap, dropped the bag into the water, and tied it to a stick jutting up out of the bank.
“I never knew this was here”, said Scooter.
“You got to slow down boy,” replied John. “There ain’t enough days to go speeding off all the time”.
John handed one of the poles to Scooter, and started to bait his own. As he cast his out into the lake, he looked again at the kid.
“You ever fished before?” asked John.
“Once before daddy ran off, we fished over on the river.”
“Well, I come here every morning at the same time as you well know, barreling down the road like you do. What say we meet here and fish sometimes?” John asked.
“That sounds like a deal but I have to ask Ma” said Scooter. He stood there a second more and asked “Old man, can I ask you your name?”
“You can call me John, boy, and you had better bring your own chair as I don’t share mine”.
John’s bobber went under and John yanked up on his pole. He knew he had a good one on the line.
“John, you got one.” Exclaimed Scooter, watching John fight in the fish to the bank.
John said nothing but pulled the fish out of the water. It was a small-mouthed Bass. John thought it went three or maybe four pounds.
“You take this home with you and you tell your Ma there’s more where that come from” John said, handing the fish to the kid.
“Thanks John, I will and I’ll ask Ma about fishing here with you” said Scooter.
As Scooter walked back up the hill to his car, John watched him go. Upon losing sight of the kid, he turned back around to do some more fishing. Dog came over to the bank and licked his hand. John opened his pack and threw Dog the pork chop and muttered “Damn Dog”.