The Mitternacht Bank: Page 3
For a second, the bank-lady had no clue of what he was talking about. She then glanced over to the direction Desya was looking, and of course, it was her giant piles of paper work. The bank-lady smiled and then giggled.
"Eh...zoze? Heh, zat iz my pepperr worrk to zign. All ye needz to do iz zign juzt ziz few," she replied, shaking the small packet of papers in her hand. "Now...I know ziz may zeem unferr to ye...but vhen zomevone knew comez to ziz bank, zey ztarrt out vith ze ehziezt (easiest) job firrzt, and zen vork zeirr vay up in orrder to get a heigherr rrenking. Zo, ye zhell firrzt heve ze job of jenitor. Jenitor just clean up mezzez arround building end meke zurre ell doorrz ere locked efterr clozing. End jenitor iz very ehsy (easy). Ye don't even heve to worrk durring ze deytime! Ye juzt needz to come durring ze efternoon, cleen up till no vone arround, lock ell benk doorz, and yer off! End yer begining pay vill be 1000 yen* an houver. Iz ell of zat okay okey?" she finished.
*((1000 yen is about $8.45 in U.S.))
((what the bank-lady is talking about is all Desya needs to do is come to the bank in the afternoon, clean up the place until after dark [
and the bank is pretty big so it gonna take him awhile], and then once the bank is closed, he just needs to lock the place up and he's done for the day. And with $8.45 dollars an hour, that seems pretty good when ya add et all up.))
Desya struggled with what the woman was telling him, trying to look like he understood it all. he just nodded every few words. he was somewhat confused on his payment though, and didn't know if the woman was pronouncing it oddly or if it was just a foreign thing he didnt know, "ah. . . what is. . y-yen? dis is ah. . . monay. . . ?"
The bank-lady's eyes sparkled and she laughed. "Oui (yes)! Yen iz monay! Ha ha...uzally, I ned to tell people ze definizion of zat vord. Ha, ye iz a very zmart boy, ye vill be perrfect!" she cries. The bank-lady then clears her throat and shows Desya three pieces of paper. "Nowv," she started, "zeze zrree pepperrs arre vhat iz keeping ye frrom yer job. All ye needz to do iz zign yer neme on zem, end ye iz done!" She then reached into her pocket and handed Desya a pen and waited.
Desya stared hard at the paper and pen, he picked up the pen and made a few timid attempts at marking the paper. he didn't want to seem stupid, but he didn't know if the squiggly lines he were making had any relation to a known language, "uh. . i ssorry. . . b-but. . . ah. . . how. . .??"
his brow creased with frustration at himself.
The bank-lady seemed to at first have no idea why Desya was hesitating at signing. She noticed that the squiggles he was making didn't seem to even resemble those of letters she knew. But realization finally came to and she started to panic, "Oh, oh ma bonté! Je suis si désolé! Je n'avait pas d'idée que vous ne pourriez pas écrire ou pourrait lire! Oh, je me sens si stupide!" She then stopped, and tried to translate, "I..I mean , I neverr knew zat ye coold not reed! Uh...vell, juust zign yer namme rright here." The bank-lady pointed to the line at the bottom of the paper.
Desya tensed noticably at the lady's use of foreign language, and seemed to shrink noticably when she told him what to do, "ah. . . i sorry, but. . . i. . i donn know how.. ."
The bank-lady thought for a moment. "Vell, vhat iz yer herritage? Iz ye Gzerman? Rruzzian? I might be eble to zpell out yer namme and ye can jzust copee et." she said.
Desya's brow nitted, "uh. . . my. . . my mozzer wass Raassian, aand mine fasser wass . . . breetish?"
he shook his head, looking at the floor, "ah. . . luuk. i donn sthink sthis will werk. i besser at sthings warr i donn havv to sthink? musiik aand aacting is oll i am guud aat. . ."
laughing sheepishly, he gave a bow, and skiddishly began backing away in the direction they came. "sorrry for waishtink your time. . . ?"
after this he turned and tensly scurried back to the lobby, red-faced.
Gregory was talking to Angela when suddenly he saw Desya burst out of the office, looking like he was on the verge of tears. He immediately went over to him. "Wot happened back there? Did they refuse to hire you? If they were mean to you in any way..." He glares in the direction of the office.
Angela looked at Gregory, surprised and slightly amused.
Man, he's really got a thing for this kid... it's been a while since this sort of thing happened. Hope it works out. That last time really shook him up... She flipped her hair back and pushed the unpleasant memories out of her mind.
Desya shook his head, still looking at the floor, "no. . . no. . . sthe laddy vass very nice. . . i jusst, i donn . . . i cann nott . . . ai, uh. . . i sorry."
he shook a bit and stood very still, he was ashamed with himself.
he couldn't read, he couldn't write, he couldn't speak, he didn't want to be a banker, he didn't want to be a monk . . . he couldn't even say 'no' because he didn't want something, he had to wait until there was an obvious reason, and that wasted other peoples time. . .
all these throughts swirled throughtout his head for a while, and then he looked up, still quite red, forcing a smile that came out lopsided, "sso. . . waat happenss naw?"
Gregory heaved a huge sigh, looked around, and noticed Angela lighting another cigarrette. When she caught his eye, she started to put it out, but Gregory grabbed it and took a long drag. He ran his fingers through his hair, as if composing himself. Then he looked at Desya and said, "Now, my good chap, we go get some coffee." He clapped Desya on the shoulder and led the way out of the bank, with Angela ambling along a ways behind, puffing the cigarrette.
The bank lady watched silently as Desya and his friends (and a candy-gobbling Ao) quietly leave the office, remembering the man's face who glared at her. Right before they disappeared behind a wall, she yelled out, "Ye iz alveys velcome to come beck!"
"Coffee? What in the world is that?! Is that nasty brown, liquid stuff that Adéläd is always drinking?! Bleh!" Ao announced loudly.
Desya followed in silence, slowly returning to normal color, but still tense as always.
Gregory eyed Ao oddly and chuckled. "Well yes, I suppose that's what I'm talking about. But you'd probably like their Chai... come on then!" They walked a few more blocks and then Gregory led the way into the coffee shop.
[
Bri, this is where you makes us a nice link and a pretty new page... domo arigato! ^_^]
[
Uh...okay o_o. Everyone in this RP is now switching over to the link below this comment...uh, yeah.]
Where's My Coffee?!
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