Veinte Mil

For not the first time that day, and certainly not the last, Steve frowned at his bank statement. He’d been doing so, on this occasion, for the past five minutes at least. To all outward appearances his frown was drawn from great concentration – thoughts barrelling through his mind as he thrashed out some complex hypothetical matter, perhaps. Yet this was merely an illusion. Steve’s mind was curiously vacant of thought, despite the many rather pressing questions that the statement before him presented. Namely, why. Why was it how it was? He’d written off the likelihood of a transfer in error, as it seemed simply too deliberate. Which only left him more confused.

“Thk again 4 bk m8”

He knew what book. He’d suspected, then searched back through previous payments to confirm, yes, it was the same account paying him. That was strange enough. But the real alarm raiser was the $20,000 that sat to the far right of that subject line. More than Steve already had in his account. More than he’d managed to save in years.

20/02/19 “Thanks 4 book. Dave.” $35.00

Entirely expected. As agreed, paid promptly. But then:

3/05/19 “Thk again 4 bk m8” $20,000.00

His first instinct was to call the bloke. But then he hesitated, as sordid images of financial crime flashed through his mind – all drawn from the telly, of course. Which was the closest Steve had come to such things in his illustrious career as a salesman and, lately, waiter. A dull existence that perhaps inflated the absurdity of his suspicions. Was Dave a criminal, using him as some kind of deposit box? Steve had sold an old notebook to him at the start of the year, something from his high school days that he’d dug up and flogged off, being perpetually short on cash and discovering, to his surprise, that it was still circulating in the curriculum 15+ years on. $35.00 was what he’d settled on, given the fact it was ancient and not second-hand but second-second hand, possibly many times over. Certainly not $20,035, and not even $20,000. What are you meant to do when drawn into illegal rackets? Pretend you hadn’t noticed?

With his phone held in limbo before him, Steve frowned for the second time at the statement.

His next instinct: call the bank. But if Dave was indeed a criminal, and had somehow made Steve a fellow criminal, was this worse? What would the bank even do to help him? “Yes, hello, there’s $20,000 in my account, and I don’t think it belongs there.” “Not to worry, Mr. Thompson, we’ll take that off your hands.” And it pocket it ourselves. Or worse, freeze your entire account, and send the police to your door post-haste. Did the bank even know where he lived? Yes, you dolt, it’s written on the statement you’ve been staring at for the past however long. Was $20,000 that unusual an amount to receive in one transaction though? For him, definitely. Maybe he should just carry on and act like nothing unusual had occurred.

Except that he’d stress every time he logged on to check his balance, and yet be too afraid ever to touch a cent, which meant it would sit there taunting him for life.

Steve frowned at the statement for a third time.

Had there been some discussion between Dave and himself about a later payment? He’d sold the book so long ago, he could hardly recall…..seriously Steve? Of course there wasn’t, you’d bloody well remember closing a $20,000 deal on a bloody high school notebook!

Maybe he should call Sal. She usually told him what to do, whether he asked her advice or not, so she’d certainly have an opinion here. Except they’d had a massive row the night before and she’d told him not to call until he was ready to apologise and he’d be blown if it was his fault he’d been late again…no, not Sal.

Cue fourth frown.

Blow it, he’d have to call this Dave bloke. And if he was a criminal – should he try act like he knew what was up? Or do the opposite and act clueless, in the hope Dave decided to leave him alone? The phone was ringing, why had he pressed call so quick? He should think this through more, he needed a plan! Should he hang up? That might be worse, especially if Dave was watching the phone. He didn’t want them to see his name appear on the screen then quickly disappear, knowing that he’d chickened out–

“Yeah? Hello?”

Steve panicked.

“Erm, I think this is the wrong number,’ he blurted. No response. Blast. Something in him wouldn’t allow him to hang up, not without an acknowledgment from the other end that Dave was, indeed, aware he was about to hang up. Still silence. “Dave…?”

“Yeah?”

Right, he’d put his foot in it now. What does he say?? Hello, I noticed that you’ve funnelled money into my account and was wondering if you could at least let me know its origin and how long I can expect it to sit there before your recall it through the bank?

“Heeell-oo? Who is this?” Dave’s voice sang through the line, bludgeoning into Steve’s flustered thoughts.

“Oh, sorry Dave…I think I’ve got a bad line…couldn’t hear you.” He winced at his own ineptitude. “This is Steve.”

“Righto. Hey mate, how’s it going?”

“Good thanks. Yourself?”

“Yeah, not bad.” There was a brief pause. “Are we surfing together later or something?”

“Ah, no, not exactly.” Steve frowned, to himself this time. Dave didn’t much sound like a thug, if he was being frank. “I was actually calling about the deposit you made to me.”

“Huh?”

“The deposit…into my account?” Steve’s voice had grown inexplicably smaller, and he tried to clear his throat into his shoulder so that it wouldn’t carry down the line. “For – for the book?”

There was a moment of heavy silent before Dave’s voice exclaimed loudly into his ear,

“Ohhhhh, yeah, Steve! Yeah, you got it then? Cool, cool. I never sent that much money before, so I didn’t know if I was meant to check with the bank or something. Yeah, mad story! I bought the book for Spanish since the teacher said we needed it for homework, ‘cos apparently the textbook doesn’t have the homework questions or something and we needed it separate, but then when I turn up in class with it she says it’s the wrong book because it should have a purple cover but mine’s black or whatever, so I stole my friend Lacey’s and snuck mine into her bag just before home time and she was mad pissed with me, because she’s like, a suck, and does all the homework and she was abusing me over WhatsApp all night – I mean, I actually did do the homework for a change so she should’ve been proud, but whatever. Then in the morning I’m expecting her to come up and punch me and still be all pissy but instead she’s huddled in this big pack of all the girls in our class and they’re all squealing and like “omg!” so I wandered over to see what’s up, and Sharna’s like: “Dave, omg, it’s hers! Lady Gaga’s!” So I’m like, sweet, Lacey’s forgotten about the book, because they’re all excited about Lady Gaga for some reason. But then Lacey heard Sharna say my name and pushed her way through to grab me by the collar, so I’m thinking maybe she hasn’t forgotten and is still pissed, but then she’s hugging me and squealing too, so I’m hella confused by this point, then she opens up to book and points to the name at the top yelling “it’s her, it’s her!” And I’m like, who? And turns out it was Lady Gaga’s name, except her real name, whatever it was before it was Lady Gaga, I can’t remember what. But Haley her friend had recognized it because Lacey had gone to her house to use her book for the homework – such a suck – and while Lacey was ranting about me nicking her book Haley saw the name in mine and was like “omg!” because she’s obsessed with Lady Gaga and knew it was her, and so they DM’ed her on insta and she actually replied and said that she’d had it in school so it was hers, and then I think something about blessings and “it helping us the way it helped her”, I dunno I don’t have insta, and then Lacey’s flicking through and showing me all these little drawings and then a full-on song written at the end, still squealing and jumping, so I’m like “Does this mean you don’t want your book back?” and she gets all serious, like, so quick, and goes “no of course I want it back” but then asks to hold mine for just a little longer, then they all want to and they’re taking pictures of the song and I swear Haley nearly fainted. Anyway the bell went after a while so everyone had to go and Lacey like, would not let go of the book, and I’m like, if you want yours back then I need mine, and finally she let go and said to me “Dave, you’ve GOT to take care of that, it is sacred,” and there was no way I was gonna do that, and besides I needed the right Spanish book and this one had already cost me nearly fifty bucks, so I just chucked it on eBay and mentioned in the description that apparently Lady Gaga used to own it, hoping that might make it go quicker, then next minute I’m getting spammed by people demanding that I prove this, and how do we know this isn’t a fraud, so I got Lacey to send me the insta message and uploaded it and. My Dude. It went off. Like, people really love this lady. I had to just auction it in the end because people kept making me these ridiculous offers and I couldn’t keep up and it sold in the end for just under $200K which is like, a lot. I kinda wanted to message these people being like, do you know the kinda surfboard you dudes could get with this cash? But the bidding was so fast I couldn’t keep up with that either and then I was like, let them chase their dreams. If it’s this, well then I guess Lady Gaga will be happy since she said something about that in her message. Anyway, it’s so much money. I dunno what to do with it, it’s just sitting in my account. I felt kinda bad for you though because I only paid you $35.00 and I noticed you had a lotta random stuff for sale so thought you probably needed it. I hope you want it? I dunno. I dunno what to expect from people anymore, my mind is still blown that they’d pay that much for a book and not even be learning Spanish.”

Dave broke off into heavy silence as Steve gripped the phone, rendered immobile with the degree of information that had just poured into his ear.

“You there mate?”

Steve cleared his throat.

“Yes, yes I’m still here. So, er…you’re not money laundering then?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. I, erm. I don’t quite know what to say.”

“Me either, mate. The world’s cray.”

Steve laughed, a strange high-pitched and out-of-character laugh that he put down entirely to tension.

“Yes, indeed it is. Thank you, Dave – I’m very touched by your generosity.”

He cringed. He’s just been gifted 20 grand, purely out of goodwill, and he’s “touched,” is he? Twat.

“Nah man, you own that money. But hey, you don’t happen to have another copy with a purple cover do you? I still don’t have the right book for the homework.”