I sat there in the plastic chair, holding my grandfather’s worn passbook in my hands. The same passbook my father had ripped away from me five years ago at my wedding. The same passbook everyone had laughed at, the same passbook I had kept in my nightstand drawer for half a decade because I could not bring myself to throw away the last gift my grandfather ever gave me.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No, sir. Nothing is wrong. I just… I need to get my manager. Please wait here.”
She practically ran to the back of the bank. I looked down at the passbook again. It was old, yellowed, the cover worn soft from decades of handling. First Cleveland Savings and Loan was printed on the front in faded blue letters, a bank that had not existed under that name since 1987. Inside, the first entry was dated March 15th, 1971. A deposit of $8,000. My grandfather’s handwriting, neat and careful in the space where customers used to record their own transactions. My father had said this passbook was worthless. My mother had said I should not embarrass myself. My brother had laughed and said there were probably fifty cents in the account, if the account even still existed. But I had come anyway because my grandfather had asked me to. Because twelve years of Sunday visits had taught me to trust him. Because the look in his eyes when he handed me this passbook at my wedding was not the look of a senile old man. It was the look of someone giving away something precious. I should have come sooner, but life gets in the way and doubt creeps in. And when everyone you know tells you something is worthless, you start to believe them. I wish I had not believed them.
The manager appeared from the back, a middle-aged woman in a gray suit with a name tag that said Patricia Holloway, Branch Manager. She was followed by another man, older, wearing a more expensive suit. He had the look of someone who had been interrupted from something important.
“Mr. Mercer?” Patricia asked, approaching my chair. “I am Patricia Holloway. This is David Chun, our regional director. He happened to be visiting our branch today.”
“Is there a problem with the account?”
Patricia and David exchanged a look. Then David pulled up a chair and sat down across from me.
