“So why’s she calling me there?”
“How the hell should you know?”
Wednesday put on a pair of faded pink earmuffs. He closed the trunk. Snowflakes settled on his dark blue cap, and on his earmuffs.
“How do I look?” he asked.
“Ludicrous,” said Shadow.
“Ludicrous?”
“Or goofy, maybe,” said Shadow.
“Mm. Goofy and ludicrous. That’s good “Wednesday smiled. The earmuffs made him appear, at the same time, reassuring, amusing, and, ultimately, lovable. He strode across the street and walked along the block to the bank building, while Shadow walked into the supermarket hall and watched.
Wednesday taped a large red out-of-order notice to the ATM. He put a red ribbon across the night deposit slot, and he taped a photocopied sign up above it. Shadow read it with amusement.
FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE, it Said, WE ARE WORKING TO MAKE ONGOING IMPROVEMENT’S. WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE TEMPORARY INCONVENIENCE.
Then Wednesday turned around and faced the street. He looked cold and put-upon. A young woman came over to use the ATM. Wednesday shook his head, explained that it was out of order. She cursed, apologized for cursing, and ran off.
A car drew up, and a man got out holding a small gray sack and a key. Shadow watched as Wednesday apologized to the man, then made him sign the clipboard, checked his deposit slip, painstakingly wrote nun out a receipt and puzzled over which copy to keep, and, finally, opened his big black metal case and put the man’s sack inside.
The man shivered hi the snow, stamping his feet, waiting for the old security guard to be done with this administrative nonsense, so he could leave his takings and get out of the cold and be on his way, then he took his receipt and got back into his warm car and drove off.
Wednesday walked across the street carrying the metal case, and bought himself a coffee at the supermarket.
“Afternoon, young man,” he said, with an avuncular chuckle, as he passed Shadow. “Cold enough for you?”
He walked back across the street and took gray sacks and envelopes from people coming to deposit their earnings or their takings on this Saturday afternoon, a fine old security man in his funny pink earmuffs.
Shadow bought some things to read—Turkey Hunting, People, and, because the cover picture of Bigfoot was so endearing, the Weekly World News—and stared out of the window.
“Anything I can do to help?” asked a middle-aged black man with a white mustache. He seemed to be the manager.
“Thanks, man, but no. I’m waiting for a phone call. My girlfriend’s car broke down.”
“Probably the battery,” said the man. “People forget those things only last three, maybe four years. It’s not like they cost a fortune.”
‘Tell me about it,” said Shadow.
“Hang in there, big guy,” said the manager, and he went back into the supermarket. The snow had turned the street scene into the interior of a snow globe, perfect in all its details.
Shadow watched, impressed. Unable to hear the conversations across the street, he felt it was like watching a fine silent movie performance, all pantomime and expression: the old security guard was gruff, earnest—a little bumbling perhaps, but enormously well-meaning. Everyone who gave him their money walked away a little happier from having met him.
And then the cops drew up outside the bank, and Shadow’s heart sank. Wednesday tipped his cap to them, and ambled over to the police car. He said his hellos and shook hands through the open window, and nodded, then hunted through his pockets until he found a business card and a letter, and passed them through the window of the car. Then he sipped his coffee.
The telephone rang. Shadow picked up the handpiece and did his best to sound bored. “Al Security Services,” he said.
“Can I speak to A. Haddock?” asked the cop across the street.. !
“This is Andy Haddock speaking,” said Shadow.
“Yeah, Mister Haddock, this is the police,” said the cop in the car across the street. “You’ve got a man at the First Illinois Bank on the corner of Market and Second.”
“Uh, yeah. That’s right. Jimmy O’German. And what seems to be the problem, officer? Jim behaving himself? He’s not been drinking?”
“No problem, sir. Your man is just fine, sir. Just wanted to make certain everything was in order.”
“You tell Jim that if he’s caught drinking again, officer, he’s fired. You got that? Out of a job. Out on his ass. We have zero tolerance at Al Security.”