Millie is Gone

Gold is real, its a commodity.
It has value, you can trust that, it has since we started digging it out of the ground.

Not since we started pretending paper was the same thing as gold has the world been the same, although I get the idea. I even understand that Bitcoin lottery, I’m not stupid. I read the papers. I know what the world is like today. So here I am standing in line at the bank; don’t trust them either but you do what you gotta do I suppose. Waiting to put some of my gold in my safety deposit box there. See I keep some at home for emergencies and some at the the bank just in case. I’m wearing my money belt tight and my pistol even tighter in my boot. Like I said don’t see the good in nobody no more.

At least not since Millie died on that hot sidewalk waiting for aide. I wonder how many people walked past her and our frozen food melting before someone stopped and called 911. It keeps me up. I stop at the counter and fill out my form carefully and move up one in the line. It took the ambulance 9 minutes to get there, heart attack,but how long had she been down? She was unconscious, she couldn’t answer their questions. I didn’t even know where she was until the nurses went through her purse at the hospital and someone called. I had come home to an empty house NO MILLIE, and immediately panicked. I move up one in line. That’s a busy street. Lots of traffic and pedestrians. I shake my head everytime I drive past the spot. Maybe a car was blocking her view from the road that day.

When the hospital did call they were terse, unsympathetic. Just said that she had been admitted and to please hurry. When I got there I found out she had died on that sidewalk. Never even made it to the hospital. Died alone. In the heat, carrying our groceries home from the corner market. Where were the groceries I asked, the nurse shrugged she said she didn’t know. So they hadn’t even picked up her things for her. Guess I’m lucky I got her purse back. It’s my turn with the teller now and I am in a sour mood, she sees my slip and smiles sweetly then asks to see my key so I dangle it at her. She simpers and says “the manager will help you at that desk right there.” She points to an empty desk in the lobby. More waiting. She gets on the phone and I saunter over to the empty desk.

This is the worst part of the trip having people know I have something of value on me and not being ushered immediately inside the vault. People will act in their own best interest in a robbery, not play hero. Hell I’d probably lay down and die too. That made me chuckle to myself for a minute; come packing to a bank then plan on giving up your gold replicas of the 50 states rather than get shot. Lost in that reverie I am surprised by the bank manager who is stupid enough to ask how my wife is, I say “still dead” everytime just to see the look on his face. I suppose its my own fault I haven’t taken her name off of the checkbook yet. I can’t bear to.

We walk over to the vault and allows me to enter first. I seat myself at the table while he the uses the two sets of keys to remove my box from the wall then ooffs when realizes how heavy it is. He places it in front of me and I wait for him to leave. At last locked inside a bank’s vault with a gun and a bunch of gold I finally feel safe. If only I had rations for a month I’d move in. I open my box and remove all the contents; checking them one by one against my list. Then I add the 50 state replicas from the Franklin Mint and their value and wrap everything up and return it. I get little joy from this, I am not a collector like that, its my bottom line and retirement that I look at. Millie and I weren’t that old, we could have had years left. I sigh heavily, I’m no good alone. I close the box and walk out, Nodding at the manager who will of course replace it for me.

The sunlight of the day is blinding and for a moment I pause to get my bearings. It was a beautiful day like this that Millie died, kinda makes you think don’t it.

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