Free Medicine Wheel by Ron Schwab Page B

approved of the little side agreement, and he likely would have shot some holes in it. Thad didn’t feel right about the subterfuge, but he owed confidentiality to Kirsten. He admitted to himself this could be part excuse.
    From the way he was looking at Thad it was evident that Uncle El thought he wasn’t getting the whole story, but he wasn’t the snooping kind. He certainly must have wondered where his nephew had come up with the cash for half of the purchase price.
    “It’s a big chunk of land to take on,” Uncle El said, “but you’ve got nice equity to start with. The price is probably top of market, but by the time you’re my age the value will triple or more. And when it comes to land, they don’t make any more of it and it’s always there . . . not going to run away from you.” He looked at Aunt Nancy, and there was some silent communication between them.
    She nodded and said, “It would be fine with me, El.”
    El said, “We’d loan you a thousand, if you’d let us.”
    “I couldn’t—“
    “Nan and I had talked about this a week ago. Times have been good and we’ve set aside some money. I’m done buying land, and we agreed that if you came up with a use for it at the right place we’d offer a loan. I think this is the right place. We’d charge you one percent interest and take a second mortgage on the land . . . after the bank’s lien.”
    “I don’t know what to say.”
    “Yes and thank you,” Nancy teased. She was sitting beside Thad and reached over and gave him a hug.
    “Yes and thank you. I’ll only need a third from the bank. I don’t see how they’d turn me down for a loan on the balance.”

17

    T HAD STAYED FOR lunch with his aunt and uncle and then rode in to town to talk with a loan officer at the bank. When he got to the bank and entered the small lobby, he was pleased to see that both of the loan officers were available. He preferred to deal with Corbett Avery, one of the Manhattan Bank’s junior vice-presidents. Avery had been with the institution only a little over a year but had always been congenial to work with. Nigel Baker, the other junior vice-president, a slight man with slicked-back black hair and a thin mustache, had a slightly longer tenure with the bank, but Thad had always found him a bit standoffish, if not unfriendly, although he had never tried to do serious business with the man. Baker nodded at him, though, as Thad walked past him toward Avery’s desk, and he returned the nod.
    Avery got up to greet Thad as he stood in front of his desk. He had a round, cherubic face with a ruddy complexion and was a man of average height who packed extra pounds about his mid-section, but he was not obese. He was a man who could quickly put a stranger at ease and he reached out his hand and gave Thad’s a firm grip. “Good afternoon, Thaddeus,” he said, “sit down. You look a bit grim. I hope I can help with that.”
    Thad supposed he did look a little grim. He had procured a number of loans, several from Corbett Avery, who was only a few years older than himself, but borrowing money was never a casual occasion from his standpoint. He knew loaning money was the bank’s business and that the directors were always looking for good loans, but he still hated asking for money and had not yet become comfortable with debt. He doubted he ever would. “I’d like to speak with you about a real estate loan,” he said.
    Once again, Thad selectively told his story. Kirsten’s money was some he’d saved up. He didn’t have to lie about the money he was getting from Uncle El and Aunt Nancy, but he felt like something of a criminal. Of course, as long as the bank held a first mortgage to secure its loan, the source of the remaining funds was none of the lender’s concern.
    “You could have paid off your other real estate loan with the money you’d set aside,” the banker observed. “Would have saved some interest.”
    “Yes, I suppose I could have.”
    “You