Walking out of time (Part II)

The school was only ten minutes away, and the person Emma was supposed to meet was taking twice that time. She only had to take the money from the person in question and drive off to school and pick up her children. They were young, but Emma felt she was growing old by the minute, looking at her watch, tapping her foot impatiently, trying not to frighten the commuters and consumers walking up and down Burton Street on this Tuesday afternoon. It was breezy with many clouds in the sky, but there were rays of sun still making their way through the clouds.

She looked here and there, around the street, at every passer by, while checking the photo on her phone, and seeing if she will be able to recognise the person if she saw him. Her manager had asked her to pick up a sum of money from someone he’d sent in his place; Emma evidently didn’t know this person so her manager messaged her a photo of him, in order to be able to recognise him. Emma peered at the photo on her phone. The image showed a young man, maybe a student, judging by his eager eyes and warm smile. He was probably not burdened with the responsibility of looking after two children and managing a household. She shook her head. Whoever he may be, he probably had his own set of problems if he had to be borrowing money from other people- including her manager. Especially her manager. Emma prayed he would not get into her manager’s bad graces. Though her manager was renowned for having a big heart, he was equally known for having a bad temper. The young man had presumably done well so far, if the manager was trusting him with money to be delivered. Then, where was he? Did he not know the nature of the manager? And, Emma did not want to think about this, but what would happen to the student if he failed to return the money? Emma furiously brushed the thought away.

Moreover, Emma had the problem of picking up her children on time. The school would end in roughly fifteen minutes, leaving her five minutes to spare before she had to rush off. Her children, seven and five years old, were going to be desolate. It was unfair for them to have to wait after everyone else has left to be picked up. She fervently prayed for their classes to be let out late. Emma could not risk her manager’s wrath by abandoning the young man and his package: she had her children to look after, and if she lost her job, in the heat of her manager’s anger, or at the very least suffered a cut to her salary, what would happen to them? No, she could not let that happen. Not under any circumstance.

She refrained from slapping her forehand with her hand in exasperation. This was a huge predicament. Two futures hung in the balance, that of the young man, and her own. And time was running out.

-

William finally dragged himself to Burton Street with whatever ounce of courage he had left. With his heart in his throat, he scanned the place to find the moneylender. Oh, how he wanted to rake his eyes out! His morals were screaming at him- how could he borrow so much money from someone he did not know, only to not be able to return the sum? He had needed the money to pay his rent, but now he may as well not have a roof to live under anymore.