Bail Up!

December 6, 2000
Issue 

SHORT STORY BY CRAIG CORMICK

I went down to my local bank the other day — only to find it had been closed down. A large "For Lease" sign hung in the window and a small card on the door informed me where the closest branch not yet closed down could be found. It was in a nearby shopping mall.

I grumbled a little and hopped into my car. It took a while to get a park, and longer wandering around the mall trying to find the bank. I found it and looked for the automatic teller machine — "Out of order"!. I grumbled a little more and went into the bank and joined the long queue.

I stood impatiently watching the clock on the wall moving slowly ever onwards as I moved just as slowly to the front of the line. Finally it was my turn. I stepped up to the teller's window — and was surprised to see the young man there was wearing a Ned Kelly helmet.

"Bail up!", he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Bail up!", he said again.

I wasn't sure what to say. "What does that mean?", I asked.

"It's just something I have to say", he said. "A directive from Central Office."

I looked carefully down the line of tellers to see if I had found the one screwball in the bank, but they were all wearing Kelly helmets. I looked back at him.

"Bail up!", he said again.

I sighed. "Okay, why the Ned Kelly helmets? Is it some special Ned Kelly anniversary that I'm unaware of?"

"A new promotion", he replied.

"Must have cost a bit?", I asked, wondering if my bank fees would be paying for all this.

"Not really", he said. "I believe they were all bought up cheap after the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games."

I stared at him again, wondering if he was smiling at me inside the helmet. "I want to withdraw $20."

"Nothing more?", he asked.

"No. Why?"

"We're supposed to encourage the withdrawal of higher amounts."

"Why?" As soon as I'd asked I realised what he was going to answer.

"It's a Central Office directive", he said.

"No, just $20", I said and passed him my card. He picked it up and began punching keys on the keyboard, tilting his head back and forward as he did so.

"Can you see clearly there?", I asked

"Just about", he said.

He fumbled in a drawer, pulled out a $20 note and a small computer print-out slip. He slid them across the counter. "Better check your statement", he said.

"Why?", I asked.

"Just in case", he replied.

"In case of what?"

He didn't say anything. I looked at the receipt. It stated that I had withdrawn $200! I slid the form back to him. "Look at this!", I said. "Are you trying to rob me?"

He looked at the slip a moment without answering. "Sorry sir", he said. "Let me fix that." He took back the slip and the money, tapped at the keyboard and slid me back the $20, and a new slip.

"Should I check this too?", I asked.

He said nothing for a moment and then, "Well, it is Central Office policy that we recommend it to you."

I held up the slip and read it carefully. "Hey, wait a minute", I said. "What's this extra $15 deduction?"

"That's the new bank charge for withdrawing small sums of money", he said.

"How small?", I asked.

"Under $200."

"That's robbery", I said.

He didn't know what to say for a moment, and his helmet tilted a little bit to the left and right, as if he was searching for the right reply.

He looked back at me and said, "Bail up!".

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