The Year Money Grew on Trees - Aaron Hawkins [74]
"So just give me a few days to get everything straightened out," I concluded.
"You got it," Michael whispered again. I had the feeling, however, that he would be bugging me constantly until he got some money.
***
The next day I saw Brother Brown in Sunday school. He gave a lesson on the Good Samaritan, and it sounded very deep and almost emotional. I was trying to figure out what he was doing differently that day when I turned to look at everyone else in the class. They were all looking down or out the window as usual. I glared around the room. When Brother Brown paused a little in what he was saying, I spoke up loudly, "Hey, why aren't you guys paying attention?"
The other kids in the class flinched. Instead of looking at Brother Brown, though, they spent the rest of the time staring at me.
When it was over, I hung around again until the other kids had gone.
"I don't know how to thank you for everything. I couldn't have done any of it without your help," I said, looking at him.
He kept his head down and stared at his shoes. "Don't mention it," he mumbled.
"If you ever need any kind of help from me, just ask. I don't really know much about anything, but I'm willing to try and work hard."
He kept looking down and moved toward the door. As he brushed past me, he stopped and grabbed my arm right under the shoulder. He gave me an awkward shake and then kept walking. I felt a kind of electricity shoot through my body as he touched me with his weathered hand.
"See you next week," I called after him.
After church my sisters and I worked on my mom until she agreed to take me to the bank in Farmington after school the next day. Lisa volunteered to come too, but I told her she better not neglect her homework and extra reading anymore. She readily agreed.
I had Lisa put all the money into little brown paper bags grouped by denomination. She found some rubber bands and counted out groups of $100 and put the rubber bands around them. The little bags were then placed in a big grocery bag. We kept all the quarters, dimes, and nickels we had in a large jar, and I put that in a grocery bag too.
***
I hurried my mom out the door as fast as I could on Monday so I would have as much time as possible at the bank. We rode in silence, and she didn't ask what was inside my bags. She dropped me off at Citizens Bank at four o'clock and said she would be at the supermarket and would pick me back up at five.
I walked uneasily into the bank and stood in a short line of people waiting to see tellers, holding the money very close to me. There were four tellers helping people and three people in front of me. I looked over the tellers nervously, trying to guess which one would end up helping me. By the time I got to the front of the line, I had gotten a good look at all of them except the one on my far right. A large man was standing in front of that spot, blocking my view. He moved away suddenly and I heard a female voice call, "Next, please."
I moved cautiously to my right and got my first look at the face behind the voice. She was young and very pretty, with bright green eyes and golden brown hair. I could feel myself turning red as I moved more slowly toward her.
"What can I do for you today?" she said smiling.
"I uh ... uh..." I kept staring at her teeth, which were very white and straight.
"Do you have something in the bag you need help with?"
"It's money," I said obviously. "I was hoping to get it counted and change it for some larger bills."
"That sounds easy enough. How much do you have?"
I didn't really want to say, so I started pulling out the little sacks that had been marked with the kind of bills they contained. The teller looked inside a few very cautiously.
"Wow, there's quite a bit here. Where did you get all this?"
She asked in such a friendly and sincere way, I felt that it was best to explain the whole story. I left out select parts like the manure and the dump boxes, but painted a pretty complete picture of the rest. She made for a good audience, too, even looking amazed at certain