Chapter 5
Word of it must have made it up the coast, because a few days later, a thin old man crept carefully into the bank. Security kept an eye on him. He didn't seem threatening. They were more concerned on who they would have to call to come get the old codger if he didn't remember why he had come or where to go from there.
One of the account advisers finally went out to ask him, slowly and loudly, if he had been helped. He had pulled the corners of his lips up in a sad, sad smile.
"I'm meeting someone," he said. "Do you mind if I sit?"
She faltered, but didn't have the heart to say no. He pulled one of the waiting chairs over near the door and settled down on it. He didn't bother anybody, but he did keep glancing at the door as if he expected to see someone coming in. The manager had an elderly grandfather at home and declared that he could sit there as long as he didn't make a disturbance. If no one had come for him by closing time, then they would call someone to collect him.
The old man didn't make any fuss. He just sat there, watching the repairs on the old revolving door so hopefully that even the staff who thought he must be senile hoped someone he knew would come in. A few were angry on his behalf, muttering that somebody should've been taking care of him. He sat so quietly that they got back to their work and forgot about him.
No one was watching when he finally jerked a little and leaned forward to whisper.
"There you are," he said, reaching out a hand. "Why didn't you ever come to me? Are you trapped? Don't be trapped. Come with me. I'm trapped too, but if you come with me, we can be trapped together. It won't be so bad if you're with me."
The repairmen both gave him a look, but went on with their work.
"Why do you stay?" he asked next. "What keeps you here?" He crowded into the doorway, eyes busy over all the workings.
"Sir," one of the workers grated. The damn door was driving him crazy and he had just enough manners left to sound really irritated. "Can we help you somehow?"
"That," the old man said, pointing at the seam in the tiles. "I need that." They both looked and there was a penny stuck in the crack. It had probably been there fifty years, since that was the last time the door had been removed from the frame. They dug it out and he snatched it before they could even wipe off the crusty stain on it.
"That's all that's left of you, isn't it?" the old man told the penny. "If I take it with me, maybe you can come too." Clutching the penny like it was precious, the old man hurried out. The repairmen sighed and got back to work. You didn't last long in this town without being able to deal with weird, after all, and the last few days had been doozies.