Trip to the Bank

<center>"A Trip to the Bank," by Elizabeth Vail [email protected] - (780) 902-5961</center> You step into the bank, out of the rain. You immediately feel out of place. This is the kind of bank where old money goes to retire. Everywhere you look, you see gilt and green felt and marble statues of gods wrestling presumably-poorer gods. Even the pens chained to the desks look like they cost more than your waterlogged shoes. You're only here for one reason. In your left pocket is the key to a safety deposit box. In your right pocket is the crumpled postcard your aunt sent you, two days before she died. It reads, "You're the only family I have left, so this is yours now. Box 375. Don't give it to anyone else. It belongs to YOU." The "YOU" was underlined so violently the pen scored a tear in the cardboard. A security guard spots you and saunters over, eying the growing puddle of rainwater you're leaving on the spotless marble floors. "Can I help you?" he asks. --- [["I'm good, thanks."]] [["Would you believe I've come into some money, recently?"]] [["I'm here to look at a safety deposit box."]] [["Mind your own damn business!"]]

The security guard raises an eyebrow, taking in your bedraggled appearance. "Are you?" Then he shrugs. "We close in fifteen minutes." His eyes follow you as you approach the line of bank tellers. (set: $securityguard to "neutral") --- [[Speak to the bank teller.]]

The security guard smirks, amused. "What a coincidence. I have a timeshare in Florida you might be interested in." "Well, once I clear things up with my financial advisor, I'll be sure to give you a ring." The guard relaxes. "Just remember we close in fifteen minutes," he says. You can hear him chuckling behind you as you head to the line of tellers.(set: $securityguard to "positive") --- [[Speak to the bank teller.]]

You take the key out of your pocket and show it to him. "See?" The security guard's eyes zero in on the key. "Is that yours?" You remember, belatedly, the warning in your aunt's message. "Uh, yeah, it's where I store all my vintage baseball cards..." "I don't need to know your life story," he says, scratching at the side of his neck. "Just remember we close in fifteen minutes." But you feel the security guard's eyes on your back as you approach the line of bank tellers.(set: $securityguard to "suspicious") --- [[Speak to the bank teller.]]

The security guard towers over you. "If you make trouble, then it becomes my business. Do what you came to do, and then get lost. We close in fifteen." He glowers at you as you head to the line of bank tellers.(set: $securityguard to "negative") --- [[Speak to the bank teller.]]

All but one of the tellers are busy. This one seems nice. Her hair's styled into a simple pixie cut and her cardigan looks like something you could reasonably dream of affording someday - depending on what's in that safety deposit box. And she smiles at you as if she hasn't noticed that your raincoat is held together with safety pins and one straining piece of duct tape. "How can I help you today?" she asks. --- [["I'm here for my safety deposit box - number 375?"]] [["I'm here for my safety deposit box - number, uh, 343?"]]

(set: $situation to "truth")The colour drains out of the teller's face. "Number 375?" Her gaze focuses on something behind you. You turn around. (if: $securityguard is "neutral")[The security guard is beginning to pull out the door barricades, and directing clients to the door.](if: $securityguard is "positive")[The security guard sees you looking, and waves.](if: $securityguard is "suspicious")[You catch the security guard staring at you. He looks away quickly, too quickly.](if: $securityguard is "negative")[The security guard is glaring at you. You don't like the look in his eye.] "Um, that's right," you say, turning back to the teller. "That's the number that's on the key, anyway." "Right." The teller straightens the pearl buttons on her almost-affordable cardigan. "If you'll come with me?" --- [[Follow the bank teller.]]

(set: $situation to "lie")The tone of your aunt's last message makes you cautious, which is why you offer the false number. You hold up the key with your thumb blocking the "375." "Certainly!" the bank teller says. "If you'll follow me?" You glance behind you. (if: $securityguard is "neutral")[The security guard is pulling out the barricades and directing clients to the door. Maybe you're just being paranoid.](if: $securityguard is "positive")[The security guard sees you looking, and waves. Looks like you're in the clear.](if: $securityguard is "suspicious")[You catch the security guard staring at you. He looks away quickly, too quickly. A chill races down your spine.](if: $securityguard is "negative")[The security guard is glowering at you. You don't like the look in his eye. You'll have to be careful.] --- [[Follow the bank teller.]]

The teller leads you deeper into the bank, towards a locked vault. She enters in the passcode, twists the combination on the lock, and opens the vault for you. It's a bare room, walled in rows and rows of boxes, with a table in the middle. (if: $situation is "truth")[As you stare at the rows of boxes, the bank teller says, all in a rush, "Technically, I was supposed to trip an alarm when I heard what box you were here for." "What?" "I didn't! But I'll have to." Her hands trace her little pearl cardigan buttons again. "You aren't what I expected. I can give you about three minutes before I flip the switch." Before you can ask any questions, the bank teller rushes out of the room.](if: $situation is "lie")["Here you are!" she says cheerfully. "I'll step out to give you some privacy. Just remember, we close in ten minutes!"] That doesn't leave you with much time. You track down the small box marked "375" and place it on the table. --- [[You turn the key and open the box.]]

Inside, you find a mirror. It's about four inches across, round, with no handle. You pick it up carefully between thumb and forefinger. The back appears to be ivory, carved into a series of conflicting, intricate designs, like a celtic knot. Staring at it makes your head hurt. *That's it?* you wonder. It might bring a pretty penny at a pawn shop, but not enough to make much of a dent in your money troubles. Still, it's better than nothing. You tuck it into your purse and replace the box. --- [[Exit the vault.]]

You walk out of the vault just as the bank is closing. (if: $situation is "truth")[Except something doesn't seem right. All the tellers are gone - except for the one you met. The security guard is barring the door. Beyond that, the only other people in the bank are three near-identical men in black, pin-striped suits. Something tells you these men aren't bankers.](if: $situation is "lie")[The last of the customers are filing out the door, and the tellers are busy packing up their desks. (if: $securityguard is "neutral")[The security guard is taking out his keys and saying goodbye to the last of the customers.](if: $securityguard is "positive")[The security guard is jingling his keys. He catches your eye. "All done?" he asks.](if: $securityguard is "suspicious")[The security guard is jingling his keys, but he's not watching the departing customers. He's watching *you*. His eyes dart to your purse.](if: $securityguard is "negative")[The security guard comes up to you, his eyes narrowing. "Time's up."]] That's when the mirror in your purse starts to hum. --- [[Ignore the humming.]] [[Take out the mirror.]]

(set: $mirror to "broken")(if: $situation is "truth")[You shrug. "Sorry. Thought my phone was on silent." The first of the three suited men pulls out a gun. "Put your purse on the floor," he says. "And slide it over to us. Nice and easy." You comply. The first man plucks the humming purse up by its strap, then nods to the others. "Take her." "I'm sorry," the teller whispers. "I gave you my bag," you protest. "This?" The leader shakes the purse. "Just a keepsake. But it proves you're the one we're after--"](if: $situation is "lie")[(if: $securityguard is "neutral")[The security guard's eyes narrow. "What's in the bag?" *Don't give it to anyone else. It belongs to YOU,* the postcard said. You start moving towards the door. "Uh, just my phone. Sorry! Thought it was on silent." But the security guard's eyes are locked on the purse. When he next looks at you, he asks, "Were you here for a safety deposit box?" You press your lips together, but that's answer enough for him. "You're one of them." He pulls out a strange telescoping billie club from his belt. "The Directors warned me that someone would come for it. I'm not supposed to let you leave." "Hold on!" you say. "I'm not who you think I am." "I know exactly what you are." Blue sparks zap from the tip of his club. "Hand over the bag, and come along quietly." In a split-second decision, you try to run for it, but the security guard is fast. Too fast. He grabs for the purse, tilting it, and --](if: $securityguard is "positive")["What's in the bag?" he asks curiously. *Don't give it to anyone else. It belongs to YOU,* the postcard said. You start moving towards the door. "Uh, just my phone. Sorry! Thought it was on silent." But the security guard's eyes are locked on the purse. "I think I need to check your bag." "It's just a phone!" "Take it out then," he says. "Someone from that timeshare in Florida might be calling." He even sounds a little sympathetic as he starts moving towards you, his hand moving to his belt. "I don't know what you think you're doing..." "Just hand over the mirror and come with me," the guard tells you. He pulls out a strange telescoping billie club, but he keeps it loose and at his side. "The Directors told me you would be coming. They just want to have a little talk." In a split-second decision, you try to run for it, but the security guard is fast. Too fast. He grabs for the purse, tilting it, and --](if: $securityguard is "suspicious")[The security guard hones in on you like a hound finding a scent. "Drop the bag!" he orders. "But..." "I knew it," he says. "I knew someone would come for it." He pulls out a strange telescoping billie club from his belt. What kind of a security guard uses a weapon like that? "Look, I don't know what's going on," you say. "The Directors do, and that's all that matters," the guard says, almost as if to himself. Sweat beading on his forehead, he hefts the strange club, and blue sparks actually shoot out from the tip. "Drop the bag and come with me." "But--" "DROP IT!" You drop the bag, and --](if: $securityguard is "negative")[The security guard zeroes in on me. "Well, well, well. What've you got there?" You gulp. What sort of mirror makes a humming sound? "Sorry, I thought I put my phone on silent..." "Like hell you did. Open the bag, and none of your tricks - they taught me how to handle your kind." *What the hell?* "I don't know what you're talking about." He pulls out a strange telescoping billie club from out of his belt. "I'm talking about giving me the bag and coming along quietly. Or not. The Directors want to have a little talk - you're not gonna need all your teeth for that." In a split-second decision, you try to run for it, but the security guard is fast. Too fast. He grabs for the purse, tilting it, and --]] --- [[--the mirror falls out of the bag and shatters.]]

You lift it out of the purse. The mirror *thrums* in your hand, sending a sizzle of energy up your arm. (set: $mirror to "fine") (if: $situation is "truth")[Everyone - the men, the security guard, even the pretty bank teller - flinches back. "Let's not be hasty!" The first of the suited men says. "Surely we can come to some sort of agreement." "You want the mirror?" you ask. "We want to talk." You hold the mirror out, and they cringe back. "Maybe I don't want to talk." You start to edge toward the door. The second suited man pipes up. "Be smart. Your kind can't hide. We'll find you eventually and you won't have that little bauble forever." *My kind? What have I gotten myself into?* You stare into the mirror, and that sizzle of energy turns into a wild bolt that courses through you. You glance at the frozen security guard and the bank teller cowering behind her desk. They haven't hurt you - in fact, the teller tried to warn you. But could those men really track you down? You don't have the resources to disappear.](if: $situation is "lie")[(if: $securityguard is "neutral")[The security guard's mouth falls open in shock. "It's *you*?" he says. "You're the one? But you look - you look *normal*!" "I am normal," you say, but now it feels like a lie. "Call the Directors!" the guard shouts. He pulls out a strange telescoping billie club from his belt. What kind of a security guard uses a weapon like that?](if: $securityguard is "positive")[The security guard's face collapses into a dismayed sort of sympathy. "Well ain't that a kick in the head." He pulls out a strange telescoping billie club from his belt. "Is that really necessary?" You have no idea what he's talking about, but your mirror is throbbing. "Maybe not. They led me to believe your kind was a lot bigger - and a lot meaner." "My kind?" you squeak. "We don't have to make this messy." He actually does seem sorry. "We're not here to hurt you. The Directors just want the mirror, and to have a little talk."](if: $securityguard is "suspicious")[The security guard actually smiles. "I *knew* it. Call the Directors!" he shouts. He pulls out a strange telescoping billie club from his belt. What kind of a security guard uses a weapon like that? "Flashing that key around - not exactly the brightest bulb, are you? Your kind never are," he says. He waves the club. "Why don't you make the smart choice and surrender? Calm down? Have a little chat?"](if: $securityguard is "negative")["Why am I not surprised?" the security guard growls. "They told me your kind likes to make trouble." My *kind*? He pulls out a strange telescoping billie club from his belt. What kind of a security guard uses a weapon like that? "It's funny. I was expecting someone a lot bigger - and a lot meaner." He grins. "You could always surrender quietly - but I'd rather you didn't. You won't need all your teeth to answer the Directors' questions."] There are still a few people remaining in the bank, but you don't have a lot of options. There's no way you can overpower a security guard in his prime, especially considering your last meal was the handful of cracker packets you swiped from Sally's Soups on the way here.](set: $mirror to "fine") --- [[Use the mirror.]] [[Flee.]]

(if: $situation is "truth")[Everyone in the bank collapses as a high, unearthly wail rends the air. The suited men curl into balls like sickly beetles. The security guard drums his fists on the floor. The bank teller screams as tears of blood ooze out of her eyes. The noise hurts your ears, but not to the same extent. You could still get away - they tried to kill you, or at least capture you. Maybe this is what they deserve.](if: $situation is "lie")[Everyone in the bank collapses as a high, unearthly wail rends the air. The security guard claps his hands over his ears, to no avail. The bank tellers scream from behind their desks. The noise hurts your ears, but not to the same extent. You could still get away. You're not the one who dropped the mirror. None of this weirdness has anything to do with you.] --- [[Stay to help.]] [[Flee.]]

You hold out the mirror, a little uncertainly. The energy courses up and down your arm like a current. Following a strange instinct, you focus on that energy and *push* it back into the mirror. The mirror erupts in a shower of sparks. Crackling tendrils of lightning lash out and wrap themselves around the security guard(if: $situation is "truth")[, the suited men, and the bank teller.](if: $situation is "lie")[ and the helpless bank tellers.] A sharp *crack* of thunder nearly throws you off your feet, and a flash of light blinds you. When your eyesight clears, the room is empty, except for a light dusting of ash on the ground. --- [[Well, shit. Now what?]]

(if: $situation is "lie")[(if: $mirror is "fine")[You dash for the door - as the security guard bears down on you, you waggle the mirror in his face and he actually hops back several feet like a spooked horse. As you burst out of the bank, you hear him shout, "This isn't over!"]](if: $situation is "truth")[(if: $mirror is "fine")[You dash for the door - and a shot rings out. It misses you, but one of the suited men shouts, "Don't break the mirror! We can track her down later!" You burst out of the bank.]](if: $mirror is "broken")[You burst out of the bank, clamping your hands over your ears to drown out the mirror's noise and the fading sounds of screams. (set: $shards to "donthave")] By now, the clouds have parted and the rain's stopped. You weave around sidewalks lined with silvery puddles(if: $mirror is "fine")[, as the mirror vibrates in the palm of your hand.] You pull out your aunt's postcard. (if: $mirror is "broken")[It doesn't say much, but it does have a return address for a shabby hotel downtown. Even though your aunt's gone, someone ought to know something about her, and about you, and about why you're suddenly public enemy number one. But maybe it's better not to know. You've done just fine on your own. Okay, not exactly fine, but you still managed to get by without inciting strangers to attack you in banks.](if: $mirror is "fine")[As you do so, something flashes across the glass of the mirror. Additional words, written in a shakier script, shift and materialize onto the reflection of the postcard. *You've found the mirror,* the wobbly letters read. Your aunt probably had to write this backwards. *This is who you are. This is why you were hidden. Come to the Eagle's Wit on 32nd street. Ask for Mac.* *What the hell is going on?* This is beyond all your understanding. Your aunt never sent you so much as a five-dollar bill in her life. You owe her nothing. But you still feel a niggle of curiosity. Maybe life could be more than dead-end jobs and scraping by. But is it worth (if: $situation is "lie")[being a target for obsessed security personnel?](if: $situation is "truth")[the weird men in suits coming after you?] (set: $aunt to "eagle")] --- [[Follow the postcard.]] [[Throw the postcard away.]]

You dive for the broken shards of mirror and try to sweep them together. Maybe that will stop the wailing. (set: $shards to "have") With each piece you collect, the deadly noise fades. Despite the wickedly pointed shards, none of the glass seems to cut you, and soon you have a tidy pile. The people in the bank stagger to their feet as you scoop the shards into the pockets of your raincoat. (if: $situation is "truth")["The mirror is useless," the third of the suited men says. His voice wavers. "Why didn't you just leave?" "Kindness really shocks you, doesn't it?" you shoot back. "Hey, we're the good guys here," says the second of the suited men. "Not from where I'm standing," you reply. "Are you going to let me leave?" The first of the suited men clears his throat. "We can ... delay our report by a few days. But if you want some advice - whatever rock you crawled out from under has protected you for your whole life. If I were you, I would crawl right back under it and forget all this. There's more at stake than you realize."](if: $situation is "lie")[The strange club falls from the security guard's fingers. "No mercy," he rasps. "That's what they told me. Your people have no mercy." "What? So I should have just left?" (if: $securityguard is "neutral")[He grimaces. "Didn't say that. But it might be better if you leave now."](if: $securityguard is "positive")["Maybe," he admits. "But I'm glad you didn't." He takes off his hat. "Thank you, and ... I'm sorry." "Whatever," you say, uncomfortable.](If: $securityguard is "suspicious")["You should never have come here in the first place." Reluctantly, he adds, "I'll wait until you're gone before calling for reinforcements."](if: $securityguard is "negative")["This doesn't change anything," he growls. "Your kind and ours don't play nice. If you get going now, you just might have a head start." You decide not to test him.]] You hike your purse back higher onto your shoulder and [[leave through the front door.]]

Panicking, you fumble in the right-hand pocket of your raincoat for your aunt's postcard and instructions. Maybe you missed something. As you lift out the postcard in one hand, something flashes across the glass of the mirror in your other hand. Additional words, written in a shakier script, shift and materialize onto the reflection of the postcard. *You've found the mirror,* the wobbly letters read. Your aunt probably had to write this backwards. *This is who you are. This is why you were hidden. Come to the Eagle's Wit on 32nd street. Ask for Mac.* *What the hell is going on?* This is beyond all your understanding. Your aunt never sent you so much as a five-dollar bill in her life. You owe her nothing. But you still feel a niggle of curiosity. Maybe life could be more than dead-end jobs and scraping by. But is it worth (if: $situation is "lie")[being a target for obsessed security personnel?](if: $situation is "truth")[the weird men in suits coming after you?] --- [[Follow the postcard.]] [[Throw the postcard away.]]

This is ridiculous. This is your life. It's not much, but it's yours. And *you* decide what to do with it - not your aunt, not (if: $situation is "lie")[ some crazed rent-a-cop.](if: $situation is "truth")[ some weird banker cult.] You took a brief ride on the crazy train, but now it's time to get off. You crumple the postcard in your fist and throw it into the nearest garbage can and head back to your rathole apartment. You even feel like you have a little perspective now - you'll take bedbugs, leaky pipes, and inconsistent heating over being attacked by delusional strangers any day. You're not special - and for once, that's a relief. But you can't quite bring yourself to stop looking over your shoulder every block or so.(if: $mirror is "fine")[ And you hold onto the mirror.] END

The clouds have parted by the time you exit, and the rain's stopped. You weave around sidewalks lined with silvery puddles, as the mirror's shards jangle in your pocket. You pull out your aunt's postcard. It doesn't say much, but it does have a return address for a shabby hotel downtown. Even though your aunt's gone, someone ought to know something about her, and about you, and about why you're suddenly public enemy number one. But maybe it's better not to know. You've done just fine on your own. Okay, not exactly fine, but you still managed to get by without inciting strangers to attack you in banks. --- [[Follow the postcard.]] [[Throw the postcard away.]]

(if: $mirror is "broken")[You track the return address to the Hotel Chateau. Yeah, that's the actual name - chosen by someone who was clearly unable to afford a French dictionary after spending their entire budget on the extravagant gold-lettered sign out front. Could this place have the answers to the thousands of questions you now have? Who are you? *What* are you? (if: $shards is "have")[And is there a way to fix your aunt's mirror?](if: $shards is "donthave")[And what's going to happen now that your aunt's mirror is broken?] There's only one way to find out. You push the door open, and step inside.](if: $mirror is "fine")[You head down to 32nd street. The Eagle's Wit is an old English-style pub advertised by a hand-painted wooden shingle sign depicting an eagle soaring over an open book. It looks like it was plucked from a different century and deposited here in the middle of a modern metropolis. Could this place have the answers to the thousands of questions you now have? Who are you? *What* are you? And what are you supposed to do with your mirror? There's only one way to find out. You push the door open, and step inside.] END