The Nothingness Stood Revealed

Albert Einstein waited patiently in line at the bank. It was crowded today. The bank was always busy on Thursdays. People with their paychecks. The mood at the bank was usually good on Thursdays. Tellers and customers alike laughed and chatted in a relaxed manner. People were at ease with each other, it seemed. Einstein had learned an American slang word, “chipper” that described the general deportment of the people in the bank that day.

A short, stiff-legged security guard named Adolph Hitler stood by the door. He seemed bored and lost in thought. Einstein chuckled to himself. Would he be alert enough to foil a robbery if one were to (God forbid!) occur? It was hard to imagine Hitler suddenly springing into action. He wore a pistol on his hip. His boots shined. His uniform was immaculate. But mentally, he was a million miles away…

The woman ahead of Einstein stepped to the window and he advanced forward. He was next. He fiddled with the bills in his coat pocket. He’d sold several theoretical physics equations on the Flemish black market in Brussels and was now flush with cash. Those Flemish theoreticians couldn’t resist a compelling cosmological model. They were like morphine addicts for physics equations. Sometimes he felt guilty for taking advantage of their unquenchable thirst for thermodynamic answers.  

Hitler covered a yawn with his hand and Einstein chuckled again. Sleepy Hitler was in danger of nodding off on the job!

Then Hitler suddenly snapped to attention and looked directly at Einstein, who still wore a bemused smile. Einstein acknowledged him with a polite nod and widened his smile.

Hitler returned the nod but didn’t reciprocate the grin. Friendliness was probably frowned upon according to the security guard code of behavior, Einstein theorized. 

Einstein turned away from the intense little man. He felt absurdly guilty, as if Hitler suspected him of larcenous intent. He assured himself that he was being needlessly paranoid. After all, he was an innocent, law-abiding citizen! A respected scientist! He had nothing to fear from that stern little man with the Charlie Chaplin mustache guarding the bank. Lording over his little dominion like a demented emperor. 

Einstein would not be shot when he reached the window. He would not be arrested when he pulled the liberal sheaf of banknotes from his pocket. He would never cause a furor in a public place. He prided himself on his impeccable manners and gentle character.

The woman ahead of him finished her business and walked away. 

Einstein approached the window, already anticipating a problem. He resisted the urge to glance back at Hitler and greeted the teller with a pleasant, “Guten Morgen!”   

The teller was a stolid, balding man named Hans. He wore a straw boater with the top cut out. He gave Einstein an officious smile and said, “Hallo, Sir. Wie kann ich Ihnen helfen?”

Einstein removed the money from his coat pocket and slid the bills toward the teller.

“Konvertieren und einzahlen?” he asked.

“Ja, natürlich,” Hans replied. He counted the cash, expertly snapping the bills with fast practiced hands.

Einstein couldn’t resist glancing back at the menacing security guard.

Hitler was still staring at him. He seemed to be seething. Had Einstein done something to offend him? Did he suspect him of a crime? The man’s scowling countenance had turned an alarming beet-red shade.  

Einstein felt afraid. He turned back to the window. The teller wrote out a deposit receipt for 500 Belgian francs, as well as the currency exchange fee to convert the francs to Reichsmarks. 

“Danke, guten tag,” Einstein anxiously said, then he turned away to escape this goddamn intimidating place. 

He directed his gaze to the floor, avoiding further eye contact with the armed guard. He couldn’t help noticing Hitler’s tall boots. They were so fiercely polished they seemed to absorb light like a black vacuum.

After Einstein walked beyond Hitler, he placed his unpinched fedora back on his head. As he passed he glimpsed Hitler and realized they were the same height. 

Strange—from a distance he’d seemed so much smaller.

And then he was staring down at the pebbled sidewalk. He was outside now. He looked back at the bank. Hitler hadn’t followed him and he felt a strange, misplaced relief. Why should he feel this way? He was guilty of nothing! He had nothing to fear from that stern, glowering guard! It was ridiculous to think he would follow him or accost him! Nothing could be more absurd!

Einstein suddenly felt peckish. He hired a quick rickshaw to drag his ravenous ass to Paco’s Taco Stand and there he devoured three taco supremes, washing them down with a frozen margarita. Mariachi music streamed from a tinny little speaker behind the stand. A pretty young woman in a blue suit was nibbling discreetly at a single pot of spicy Mexican Borscht and she gifted him with a warm yet coquettish smile.

Whoa baby! Einstein smiled back and gave her a sexy wink, already catching a mellow, margarita buzz. A couple puffs of reefer would really hit the spot but his supplier, Adam, had split to hit the ski slopes in the Alps. Lucky bugger.

Adolph Hitler’s menacing mien and bizarre behavior at the bank were already forgotten, diminished in Einstein’s memory by distance and time.

All considered, Albert Einstein was having a pretty good fucken day.       

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