Day 7 – A Curse, Part 1

Percival bit his lip as the bank teller, Lucy, typed in the information for his savings account in the database. The serious look on her face plus the really fast typing she was doing gave him butterflies and made him rapidly tap his foot on the recently waxed floor. Lucy never looked over at him, not even to provide him a little reassurance. Surely she must be aware of the energy of anxiety oozing from his being, and know how to ease a customer’s worries.

The thing was that his mother, a woman taken to overindulging in spirits, as well as with slot machines and Texas Hold’em, was not to be trusted most of the time. He loved her, undoubtedly, but she had a way of guilt-tripping him into doing the most self-damaging things in order to get what she wanted. She would arrive at his apartment in the early hours of the morning, much before dawn, and ring his doorbell nonstop until he answered. Every time she did, his heart would sink into his stomach, for he knew exactly who it was. Her greed left no trust in his heart any other woman, and even if that wasn’t the case, he feared that she would leech from whatever woman was insane enough to be in his life, to eventually drive the woman out of it.

If it wasn’t for the fact that his mother had been eerily quiet for the last two months, he would not be standing in the bank at that moment. The longest she’d ever left him be was three weeks. He wasn’t quite sure how she would have gotten his bank account information, but he knew how she could get when she was desperate. Lucy’s eyebrows raised as she finished typing, then followed the brow raise with a deep breath.

“I’m just waiting on the system to finish loading, Mr. Goddard.” She glanced briefly at him above the rims of her tortoiseshell glasses.

Percival had over $50,000 saved up in that account. One might assume him to be quite foolish with his savings, wondering why he wouldn’t put it to good use in an investment account or real estate. He had many reasons, but the number one reason was his need for deep research. With his office job where he often worked overtime, it was near impossible to think of anything else besides work. He was a man of many excuses.
“Mr. Goddard, your account balance is…” Lucy pulled out a pen and paper and wrote it down. 


Percival’s whole body relaxed. He wanted to kiss Lucy and ask her if she was free that evening, but being Percival, he would never pull a stunt like that, no matter how relieved he was. 

“Thank you, thank you so much.” He told her instead. He took the piece of paper with his balance on it and neatly folded it into his pocket before he turned to walk out of the bank. He was curious though, where was his mother and why hadn’t she come around? 

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