TWO STORIES

Number 1 : One Good turn deserves another

He was at his wit’s end. He had run out of options. The letter in his hand was not good news at all. He looked at his wife sleeping in the bed and pondered deeply. She was going to lose it all in a few days’ time. A beautiful compound in the middle of the city. A bungalow. Five bedrooms. Spacious. The house was going to be sold off by the bank. He had fallen into some hard times and couldn’t make the payments on his mortgage.

He hardly slept that night 

Rrrrrriiiiiinnnngggggggg   Rrrriiiiinnnnnggg

He dragged himself out of bed. He could smell the aroma of fried eggs from the kitchen. His wife had always been an early bird. Beautiful. loyal. Hardworking. She knew nothing so she was humming away to the radio in the Kitchen.

Rrrrrriiiiinnnggggg  Rrrrrriiinngggg

8.30 a.m.

He had hardly slept due to the worry worry. The house was going.

Hello?

Good Morning Sir. My name is blah blah blah from the Bank of …..

I am going through your paperwork at my desk and would like you to come by for a small chat

Blah blah blah

He wondered what else the bank had to say. Were they kicking him out earlier?

Sssshhhhhhh……. The sound of frying in the kitchen

More humming in the kitchen

He adjusted his necktie and run his hand through his unkempt beard one more time. A quick glance at the mirror. The receeding hairline was no welcome sight especially in this times. The children were away at the University.

Coat adjusted. Necktie strengthened again. He breathes in and walks to the kitchen.

'I am going out briefly' he murmurs to his wife.

‘Your breakfast !’ she shouts as he shuts the door behind him

She makes some more remarks behind his back but his mind is too clogged to listen

More shouting? He walks on

...........

The young man at the bank - Smart Pants we shall call him- had a sly smile on his face. His eyes were cheeky and he wanted to make small talk. Our Mr. Depressed is in no mood. Smart Pants was all over the place making small talk. Mr Depressed sits still. Uninterested. Depressed! He could only envisage the sight of his property being thrown out of his home. The cries of his wife. The faces of the neighbours. He slumps furthe rin the seat dejected. The eyes itch and grow wet. The soft leather chairs of the bank were no comfort at this moment. ‘Calm down and do not make a scene’ he tells himself. His tongue was dry and he waited the bad news.

So, Mr……. (Smart Pants begins)

Like I said on the phone…Well, let me start by telling you story ...

Mouth dry no mood for stories but well…. Mr Depressed thought.

Smart pants continues

At age seven, my father called a meeting one early morning to tell us that our home was going to be sold by the bank. I recall the look on my father’s face as he spoke. At that young age, my face sunk as he narrated what that meant. The next day however, Dad returned with a bright smile. He mentioned that a certain kind man whose name was (at this point the young banker reveals Mr Depressed’s name) had so graciously refused to sell the house.

Mr. Depressed tries to remember the name of Smart Pant’s father. His eyes widen just a bit as he recalls the surname. It was that jittery Deputy City Clerk he remembered. He had begged for an extension of his mortgage when hard time had come to bite. Mr. Depressed had given him a fresh lease of life. The house had been saved.

So Smart Pants was now saying some exciting words. The words were like water to the drought struck plant called Mr. Depressed.

‘I have never forgotten your name Sir. I would like to repay the favour too.’ I am giving you an extension with no pressure. Pay as and when you are able. The bank Management has agreed with me that you are too valuable a customer to lose’

Hand shakes

Hugs

Mr. Depressed was depressed no more

Now, that fried egg Madam was preparing. I also have a story for her

There was a bounce in his step that morning as he left the bank

One good turn deserves another

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