Ghost Memory

Ghost Memory Part 3

Ghost Memory - Part 3

by Maer Wilson

“That was before someone realized there was money in this house. Who knows when they might decide to come back and look for more? Do you really want to take that chance?” I asked gently.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Quinn, but Fi is right. You should have your money in a bank.” Thulu immediately backed me up.

Mr. Quinn sighed heavily, “I suppose you’re right. I have a small savings account, but mostly I use my checking account. Peter and I always saved up for whatever we needed and usually paid cash.” He paused thoughtfully. “Won’t the bank want to know where I got this money?”

“Yeah, probably. The documentation should help, but I have an idea,” I said. I explained about Thulu’s cousin, Evan, the family accountant, and said he might be able to smooth the way. Mr. Quinn and Thulu agreed it would probably help things. A large deposit of that kind of cash had to have some kind of red tape. I pulled out my cell phone and called Thulu’s cousin, Evan, our family accountant.

Evan knew exactly what Thulu and I could do as far as our abilities were concerned. He was used to odd requests from us. A huge chunk of cash certainly wasn’t the oddest thing we’d asked for help with over the years. It was reassuring when Evan had our backs, and his excellent reputation would make explaining the situation a lot easier. I quickly gave him a rundown of our case.

“Evan, is there a way to handle that kind of money with as little attention and fuss as possible?” I asked.

Evan asked me if Mr. Quinn would consider using our family’s bank as he knew people there and could get things handled with a minimum of attention. I relayed the question.

Mr. Quinn thought for a moment. “That will be fine. I’m not exactly attached to my bank anyway.”

We made arrangements to meet Evan twenty minutes later at the bank where all of our large family kept our numerous accounts.

We helped Mr. Quinn get all of the money into a few envelopes.

“Do the two of you mind helping me lock up?” asked Mr. Quinn.

“We’re happy to,” I replied. I went down a long hallway to secure the back door. It led to a screened-in porch. Stepping out onto the porch, I saw a lovely garden in the backyard. I didn’t take the time to admire it, though. I made sure the porch door was latched, and bolted the back door on my way back in.

I met the other two at the front door, where the three of us donned our coats and made our way outside. The sun was weak and did little to warm us up as we walked to our car. Traffic was starting to get heavy as we drove to the bank, which wasn’t very far, but we still made it there before Evan did.

He arrived a few minutes after we did and met us in the lobby. Thulu and I waited while Evan took Mr. Quinn to see the bank manager.

I figured we’d be there a while, so I made myself comfortable in the lobby. I pulled out my tablet and read a book while we waited. Thulu watched the people coming and going, something he liked to do. He found people interesting and liked to guess about their lives. I humored him and played the people game sometimes, but I wasn’t as fond of it as he was.

I hadn’t always been stand-offish. Before my parents died, I was very outgoing. After the fiery crash that killed them and their subsequent appearance to me at age ten, I withdrew from people. The looks of pity from other kids when they found out my folks were dead had only irritated me. I didn’t want pity. I wanted my mom and dad back.