The Lifetime Community Bank

“Damn!” sputtered Danny as he threw the local paper onto the table. “Another one gone!”

“What are you talking about?” Emma called from the kitchen.

“Banks. All they care about is money, not people. We’ve lost two in this town in the last two years, and now the only one left is closing as well. And, just like the others, they will be removing their automatic teller machines.” Danny frowned. “They want everyone to go cashless.”

Tea towel in hand, Emma leaned against the door frame. “So, there won’t be any way of depositing or withdrawing cash?”

Danny nodded. “Yep. And no local bank manager to see about getting a loan to makeover the bathroom. This article says everyone is comfortable with doing online transactions now, from the convenience of their own home. I know I’ve got the banking app, but sometimes things need to be organised in the branch, especially if there’s a problem. Plenty of people get hacked. Now, we’re supposed to travel to Burnport for any major bank dealings, including new card activation.”

Emma groaned. “That is so unfair. Burnport is a one and half hour's drive from here. How will the elderly folk and those with disabilities manage?”

“That’s what makes me mad,” Danny replied. “At least you and I can drive there, but it’s dammed inconvenient for others.” He scowled. “Comfortable! I’ll show them. We still have the community bank in town. I’ll pay them a visit tomorrow and find out what’s involved in setting up a new account.” He picked up the newspaper again. “Here’s their ad. It says ‘Lifetime Community Bank. Run by citizens, for the citizens.’ All the townsfolk here in Smithtown should get together and close their major bank accounts. That would send a message to these corporations.”

“Good idea,” his wife replied. “The community bank might have some competitive options.”

                                                           ***

Danny glanced around the foyer of the Lifetime Community Bank and observed a distinct lack of promotional material. There was only one service counter, which looked like it had been designed as an aeroplane wing, silver with tiny orange lights across the front.

He approached the tall assistant behind the counter. He was young, tanned and flashed a broad smile, revealing impossibly bright white and perfect teeth. He was dressed in a black slimline suit, with a narrow white collar band that appeared to sparkle slightly under the fluorescent lights. His gold name badge read Neila Doogon.

“Good morning, sir,” he greeted. “How may I help you today?”

“I’d like to enquire about setting up a new savings account and applying for a loan to redo our bathroom,” Danny replied.

“Certainly sir,” Neila answered, before flashing his teeth again. “We can talk in the office.”

Danny leaned back in the uncomfortable vinyl chair in front of the desk. The office was a simple, slick affair of pale glossy walls lined with dark glass.  A beige filing cabinet stood in one corner, devoid of any keylocks.

Neila sat in the oversized black leather chair behind the desk and pulled the computer screen closer.

“Now, Mr…” he looked up and waited.

“Martin,” Danny replied. “Daniel Martin. Your name is unusual,” Danny continued. “I don’t know any Doogons in town.”

Neila flashed his teeth again.

“You wouldn’t. The corporation moved me here from the mainland.”

“Corporation?” Danny questioned. “I thought this was a community bank.”

“Indubitably, but even citizen-run banks are answerable to a major owner. Now, to your requirements.” Neila removed a small, slim chrome and glass device from his top pocket.

“What’s that?” asked Danny.

“An UltraMaxiePhone. Does everything required for business applications. Haven’t heard of it?”

Danny shook his head. “Well, no I haven’t. It’s awfully small.”

“Yes,” said Neila. “But multi-powerful. Now, I see from your current card you have a balance of fifteen thousand dollars in your account.” His eyes scanned the computer screen. “You also have a credit card limit of seven thousand dollars, with an outstanding amount of one hundred and fifty dollars.”

Martin was stunned. He hadn’t even taken his wallet out of his pocket. “How do you know that?”

“Ah,” Neila responded. “The device picks up card and account details remotely. I also see your wife Emma is on the existing accounts.”

Danny’s face burned and his heart fluttered. “Hold on, I only came for some information, not necessarily to open an account today. I need to discuss things with my wife first. Don’t you have some leaflets on accounts and loans?”

Neila was unfazed. “Sure. I’ll just get them for you.” He strode over to the filing cabinet and waved his hand in front of the top drawer. It slid open and closed again silently. He returned with two glossy A5 double-sided brochures and laid them on the desk. As Martin reached for them, Neila slapped his bony, elongated hand down first.

“Not yet, Mr Martin,” he uttered in a silvery tone. “I just need some more details.”

Danny’s heart raced even more. “Details? What sort of details?”

Neila silvered on. “How much money you are planning to spend on your makeover, and whether the savings account would be owned fifty per cent each by yourself and Emma. It determines the interest rate charged.”

Warning bells rang in Danny’s head. The word scam flitted across his mind. “What? I’ve never heard of such a thing,” he sputtered. “How does this community bank operate?”

Neila flashed his teeth again before replying. “We offer the best rates and service. It’s a lifelong guarantee, that’s why we are the Lifetime Community Bank.”

Danny was uncomfortable. “We’ll probably need a loan of around ten thousand dollars,” he replied. “And yes, the savings account would be 50-50 in our names. But as I said, I need to discuss this with my wife. Just how does that determine the loan rate here?”

Neila removed his hand and pushed the leaflets across to Danny. “Each case is individual and the rates are variable. Just one more thing. Please sign this document to say that we have talked today, and I have given you the required information.” Out of nowhere, he produced an A4 piece of paper. “It’s required by the corporation to assess my performance.”

Danny stared at the page as Neila handed him a starry, slimline gold pen. ‘I, the undersigned, agree that I have been provided with the necessary paperwork relevant to my enquiry today by Neila Doogon,’ he read. He scrawled his name and date on the line underneath and stood to leave.

“Talk to your wife and I will be in touch,” Neila said.

Danny snatched the leaflets and shook his head. “No, I’ll contact you after we read through this information, if we are still interested. Good day.”

Neila didn’t bother offering his elongated hand for a shake. Danny left the office and strolled up the hill to his house. Nothing felt right, and he was less than impressed with Doogon’s performance. He paused as a new thought struck. I didn’t give him any contact details, so how will he follow up?

“How did you go, love?” Emma enquired.  

“I’m not sure,” Danny replied, as he sat at the kitchen table. “Everything seemed really strange, and the bank branch itself was, well, kind of weird. I’ll just have a look at these leaflets. The young man there didn’t give me any definitive answers to my questions about interest rates or how to set up an account.”

He was further puzzled by the lack of information on the printed material. “I can’t work this out,” he said, “it’s….” Ding! Danny picked up his phone. “What’s this?” he muttered as he opened the screen.

“Confirmation of account setup,” the message read. “Fifteen thousand dollars in joint names of Daniel and Emma Martin.”  Another ding followed. “Confirmation of loan in the amount of ten thousand dollars in joint names of Daniel and Emma Martin. Subject to terms and conditions of the Lifetime Community Bank. First repayment of five hundred dollars due in one calendar month.” One more ding. “Credit card account confirmation. Seven-thousand-dollar limit. Current balance six-thousand, eight hundred and fifty dollars.”

Danny was stumped. “Huh?”

“What is it?” Emma asked. Danny turned the screen around for her to read.

“I thought you said they didn’t give you any answers?”

Danny closed the message and stared at his phone. A Lifetime Community Bank app had appeared on his home screen.

The colour drained from Danny’s face as he looked again at the first leaflet. In tiny print at the bottom was written: “Lifetime Community Bank. Your lifetime is our lifetime. Your money is our money.” 

“They didn’t,” he replied flatly. “Dammit! Scammed! I need to get back there asap.” He looked at the time on his phone. “It’s after three and they’ll be closed now. I could try reporting it to the police, but there’s probably not much they can do to help.”

                                                           ***

Danny rushed out of the door at nine a.m. the following day, after a sleepless night. He waited impatiently as two people in front of him used the auto-tellers at the bank. One became available and he inserted his savings card, punched in his PIN number and requested an account balance. The readout came back as zero. Fingers trembling, he retrieved the card and inserted his credit card. The screen was blank. He replaced the cards in his wallet and headed across the road. As he did, another ding sounded on his phone. ‘Savings card account keeping fee,’ the message said. ‘One thousand dollars.’ Another ding. ‘Credit card account fee one thousand dollars.’

Danny’s head was about to burst. He stormed the two blocks to the community bank branch and tried to enter through the glass sliding door. Except that it didn’t open. He pounded on the door to no avail. Frustrated, he looked for another way in. Everything was in darkness inside, and there was no other door. He wandered along the window and stopped at a sign posted on the glass. ‘Building for sale. Expressions of interest to A.L. Slater and Co.’

He stormed back up the hill and slammed his front door open. “Our money’s gone!” he cried as Emma appeared. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“They’ve cleaned us out and closed the community bank. Nothing in our old accounts.” He sat on the edge of a kitchen chair, head in hands. “I don’t know what to do,” he groaned. “What happens now?”

“Backtrack,” Emma quipped. “Open the app. Maybe there are some numbers attached to give you access to those accounts.”

Danny opened his wallet to retrieve his cards and a slip of paper fell out from a small fold in the leather. “Do not be overwhelmed by evil. Overcome evil with good,” it read. Danny scratched his head trying to recall where it had come from. Then he remembered. His mother had given it to him for encouragement thirty years before when he was eighteen, struggling to find his way in the world. His brain whirred, processing word association.

“Good….Dogood….Doogon?”

“Huh?” said Emma.

Danny opened the Lifetime bank app. He clicked on ‘Accounts,’ then ‘Password.’ A series of dashes appeared. He clicked his teeth and chose the drop-down menu. ‘Activate password,’ glowed in red.

“Right,” Danny asserted, as he furiously hit the Captcha on the screen with his finger. “I’m.Not.A. Robot,” he thumped out. neiladogoon#25685 flashed in a wavy line across the screen. Danny hit the activate button just in time before the words disappeared. “Now,” he growled through gritted teeth,  “Give.me. access.to.my.account.”

Another drop-down menu asked, ‘What would you like to do today?’ Danny chose the ‘manage account’ menu, then ‘change password.’ He grabbed a pen and wrote on the bottom of the slip of paper. Quick as a flash, he entered a new password and then confirmed it. Another option appeared.  ‘Transfer Funds’. Danny set himself up as a new payee and chose ‘interbank transfer.’ He punched in his former account’s bank branch number and account details and hit the ‘transfer’ button.

 In an instant, the balance on the screen dropped to zero. He repeated the steps with the credit card. It showed ‘Account balance, zero.’ Clicking out of the app he opened his regular bank app and signed in. He smiled and sat back. The new balance in the old savings account was $25,000, and the $6,850 was restored to the credit card.

He returned to the Lifetime Bank app, closed and then deleted it. He snickered with satisfaction. “I’m free. I’M FREE! We’re free! They’re not getting our lifetime savings!”

“What just happened?” asked a puzzled Emma.

“I thought about how to reverse everything,” Danny replied. “I started with the password, which came up as neiladoogon#25685. That’s the name of the guy I saw in the community bank. So, I chose the manage and change password settings. I typed it in reverse: 58652#nogoodalien. See what it is?”

Emma stared at the slip of paper. “You’re kidding,” she said. “No good alien?”

“Yep,” Danny replied. “Aliens. They’ve been spying on our human activities. Well, the opposite of no good is good. I fought back and reversed evil. And we now have not only our money but also their ten thousand in return. Bam! That’ll teach them to try and get the better of us earthlings. Ha ha! “

“Well, that’s a relief! But we still don’t have a solution to our banking situation,” Emma reminded him. Her face fell. “What if they still have our details stored?”

Danny sighed. “True. I guess it’s a trip to Burnport now, to set up some new accounts with the current bank. If we need cash at any time, the local supermarket gives cash out with a purchase. But today, I’m free. I win.” His face erupted in a wide grin, followed by a deep belly laugh. He turned to Emma and gestured. “Grab your handbag, honey.”

He whistled as he picked up the car keys and headed to the front door. Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, he made a wry comment. “I love it when the underdog can beat a scam attack and come out on top.” He thought for a moment. “It’s all good. And I feel good, too. Let’s go.”

Rays of sunlight beamed through the clouds. “Ha,ha,ha,” Danny said as he zoomed down the highway. “Martin one, scammers nil. Take that!” And everything was good.