Mythology 101 by Jody Lynn Nye

Author:Jody Lynn Nye [Nye, Jody Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, General
Publisher: WordFire Press
Published: 1990-12-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

The new Accounts officer at the Midwestern Trust Bank explained the whole system again patiently to the eager red-haired teenager. He looked as though he had been explaining the same thing to dim customers for the past sixty years or more. “If you want a business checking account, you have to maintain a balance of a thousand dollars, or there’s an eight dollar service fee each month. If you want my advice, young man, just open a personal checking account. The bank doesn’t care what name and address you have printed on the checks.”

“Fine,” Keith said, appearing to understand at last. “That’s what I want.”

“Good,” the man said, passing a hand over what was left of the thin brown hair on his head. His round face folded into the semblance of a Parker House roll as he smiled at Keith. “Now, if you’ll just fill out these forms, we’ll get you your temporary checks.” The man swept Keith’s three deposit checks away, and took them over to a teller’s window. In a few minutes, he was back with an important-looking slip striped in blue and tan. “Here’s your new account number.” Keith looked up from it at him.

“Um, I want my nephew to be a co-signer on this account, but he hasn’t got a Social Security number yet. He’s twelve.”

“That’s no problem,” the banker said. “Only one of you needs to have one. I assume you do. What’s the account for, if I may ask? Boy Scouts?”

“Junior Achievement,” Keith said.

O O O

Three days later, two boxes arrived for Keith from the student Print Shop. Cackling happily over the contents, he hurried down to the elf village, the cardboard boxes cradled in his arms. The stone door opened for him, showing him that some changes had been put into operation since he was there last. He smiled and greeted everyone, but didn’t explain his presence until he reached Holl’s hut. Holl lived alone at the edge of Curran’s clan. Like the other cottages, it was built of odd pieces of wood, but they seemed to be arranged in a handsome and subtle pattern that used both color and texture as motifs; most appropriate for a woodworker and the son of a woodworker. The sloping roof was incised with a pattern of rounded slates. There was no need to keep out weather, so its builders could concentrate on form rather than function. Its door stood open.

The young elf was at home, poring over a thick leather-bound book with print so small that Keith couldn’t read any of it from three feet above the pages. A carved shelf was fastened to the wall just underneath the glass-less window. It was full of books, all borrowed from the library upstairs. Beyond a partition wall from which a curtain was drawn back lay a simple frame bed spread with a patchwork quilt and pillow, and a chest with the lid thrown open. The windows were hung with curtains in a film-thin red and blue weave through which the village’s curious lighting shone almost unabated.

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