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They once lived in harmony and were like yin and yang. She gave and gave and gave while he took and took and took it seemed like a perfect balance.
Aren't they a great couple, said the butcher on the corner. The baker nodded, as did the milkman, who hoped that he would also meet such a fine woman as Mrs. Credit, the bank of Loans that the entire village talked about daily.
If one felt cornered, had financial problems, they visited her. In time, Mrs. Credit had more admirers than the doctor and even the school psychologist Mister Thirteen.
How does she do that, how does she manage to do that again and again, asked the captain of the women's football team, we are in need every week and barely make it to the end of the month.
Indeed, she never runs out of cash, perhaps she has planted a money tree in the garden or she has a rich sugar daddy, noted Anet who just enjoyed her 13th sandwich with mustard and mayonnaise and a pickle on top thanks to the efforts of Mrs. Credit, who, without any doubt, had saved her from starvation.
Oh well, life is rarely what one sees.
Mister Loans was upset about the situation. He was what you call incorrigible and on top an ungrateful dog. For his perpetual lack of money, he blamed his wife. It was she who filled his coffers and settled his gambling debts, and he increasingly resented her for that.
At night at house number 13, no one knew, Mrs. Credit couldn't sleep, not for a few hours but the entire night it was that she was awake. She worried and wondered how she was going to make her ends meet. It was true that she gave endlessly, after all, she was the bank of Loans, but she had never received anything in return, let alone with interest, not even once they had paid her a cent back.
It didn't matter whether she referred to the contract and pointed at the thirteen rules her debtors signed, or if she asked nicely, prayed or begged. Each one of them just smiled kindly and ignored her when she asked when she could expect their payment but all that money she had given had long since been spent.
Is Loans right, Credit wondered as she thought about how she always picked the shortest straw out of the thirteen offered. Would anyone ever pay her back or was their immoral behaviour the norm and a bad habit that she had not only kept alive but even encouraged?
The next day, on Friday the 13th, Mrs. Credit had learned her lesson and the bank of Loans was closed and with that, the villagers had lost their beloved Mrs. Credit.
From that moment on, the unfortunate couple worried sick, about money, together. And if they didn't worry they counted sheep during their sleepless nights but at least they had saved their marriage.
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23-2-2024
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