Liquid Bank - Chapter 2
A Megacosm Novelette
Chapter 2 - Economically Viable
“I’m sorry Mr. Spark, but there is nothing we can do for you,” the bank manager said.
Matthew sat on the other side of the plain wood desk, dressed in a dark, ill-fitting suit- the only inheritance from his estranged father.
“Do you mind telling me why?” Matthew asked. His voice remained calm since he had heard the same refrain from the five previous banks he had applied.
The reply always played out the same. The bank manager shuffled the papers before him, pretending to go over each one again with a lick of his index finger. Matthew watched him, and waited to hear the two words that became a common refrain, as if they all read from the same prepared script.
The bank manager cleared his throat while pushing up his glasses. “Well, from our research Mr. Spark, it seems you are not economically viable,” he replied.
Matthew smiled, hearing the magic words. After he had heard the term the first time, Matthew found out that being called not economically viable was the banks’ way of saying they did not believe his revenue would be equal or be greater than his planned expenditures. In other words, a poor gamble.
Yet, draining his savings by consulting with accountants and business management firms said otherwise.
“But my business model is sound,” Matthew said in an even tone. “Even your man, Sam, said so before I applied.”
“Sam,” the bank manager repeated, smiling to himself. “Well, Sam is an advisor, not an underwriter. Our research takes in all accounts, and not just a business plan.”
“Your research,” Matthew said. “What did you find?”
The bank manager cleared his throat again, finger fiddling with his collar. “To be frank Mr. Spark, your education level is subpar --,”
“Subpar,” Matthew repeated.
“Yes,” the bank manager replied. “And we also found disturbing social media posts on the accounts you didn’t disclose to us.”
“Am I not allowed to have an opinion?” Matthew asked.
“You are,” the manager replied.
“But you don’t like them, so you won’t give me a loan,” Matthew replied.
“Like or dislike is not a consequence here,” the bank manager said, his voice attempting to sound impartial. “We must assess whether your comments would affect your business were they to come to light. We assess they will.”
“The Mega’s are a menace,” Matthew replied, leaning forward. “Someone has to say so. But that has nothing to do with my business plan. We plan --,”
“Mr. Spark, Mr. Spark,” the bank manager interrupted with a chuckle, waving his hands. “No need to get political here.”
“But this is political,” Matthew said, jaw flexing. “I have a constitutional right to express my opinion.”
The bank manager breathed through his nose. “We’re sorry Mr. Spark, there is nothing we can do for you,” he stood, putting out his hand. “If you have an issue with our decision, I suggest you reach out to our customer service representative in person or online.”
Matthew stood, shaking the bank manger’s hand and looking him in the eyes. “You have a good day sir,” he replied, before exiting the office.
*****
The door to Matthew’s apartment creaked closed as he flung his keys on the kitchen counter with a rattle. Moving to the refrigerator, the pale light illuminated the four beers inside. With a sigh, he cracked open a can with a burst of suds bubbling over the top from the warmth.
Walking into the living room, he pushed on the television knob, tuning into one of the local channels he was able to connect to through the antenna on the roof.
“One man was killed in what appears to be a home invasion,” the reporter on the news said, gaining Matthew’s attention as he sipped his beer and loosened his tie. “It is speculated that decorated Green Beret, Henry Collins, attacked the Mark family, gaining entrance through their loft. A gun fight ensued with the husband, an ex-Army Ranger whose full name is being withheld, before Collins was seemingly killed by the wife, the object of his obsession.”
“Yeah right,” Matthew muttered as he walked toward his couch, “nearly get killed for your country, and they still paint you as a lunatic when you come back with a screw loose.”
The springs in the couch groaned as Matthew sat, sinking deep into the worn cushion. Having had his cellphone turned off months ago, he leaned over and pushed on the answering machine that sat on the end table that was plugged into his landline.
The tape whirled inside then beeped to life.
“Hey, Matthew baby!” The voice rang out. “Call me when you’re home after being turned down from another loan.”
The voice laughed and Matthew shook his head while finishing off the last of his beer.
“You need to get back to me because I have that job for you, and this is a great opportunity,” the voice on the machine continued. “Call me back buddy. You want in on this.”
“Yeah, another great opportunity,” Matthew said as he stood and walked towards the kitchen, “working with one of them.”
Below the kitchen table that was littered with liquid-soiled envelopes stamped with red letters, the trashcan was a simple black plastic bag crumpled on the floor where Matthew tossed the empty can. Looking up, on the far wall was a framed picture of his daughter, sitting in a field with the sunlight highlighting the brown strands in her hair from behind. Her smile was full and sincere, saved only for her father. It was the last time Matthew was able to afford to take her out, which was months ago to his recollection.
He needed a job. Taking down her picture, he walked back to the phone as he studied the image. Holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder, Matthew heard the shuffling on the other side of someone fumbling as they answered.
“Hey, this is Matthew,” he said once the voice picked up. “Yeah, just calling you back. Yeah, I got turned down again. Look, you don’t have to take so much pleasure in it, you prick.”
He turned, looking down at the framed picture in his hand.
“Yeah, well, I had to try, right? Now, about that job,” he said, rubbing a thumb over the cheek of his daughter’s picture. “Is it still available?”
Novelette
“Writing a novelette allows the writer to create all that supporting information to back up a short story. Whether a short story is meant as a scene in a larger story, or simply as a story by itself, it will always be taking part in a larger world.” -ThisIsWriting
If this chapter of Liquid Bank intrigued you, check out my book The Mark for 99c that began the street level stories inside the Megacosm.
Plot:
"A chance encounter introduces Linda Mark to Henry Collins, a recently discharged Green Beret. Used to dealing with war veterans because of her husband Shawn, a former Army Ranger, they quickly strike up a friendship."
"Yet, events spiral out of control, and Linda and Shawn struggle to survive as Henry’s affection for Linda turns into a deadly obsession."
You can find The Mark at these online stories: