$25

Meredith held the $5 note between her forefinger and thumb with a mix of disgust and attachment. It seemed that half her motion wanted to impel the banknote into the waiting piggy bank, while the other half clung to it for dear life. It was unclear which half was involuntary motion and which was dictated by a deep sense of conviction one way or the other.

Meredith pushed the $5 bill through the slot and held onto the tin with a distant solemn look on her young face. She tried to calculate quickly in her head how many more coffees she would have to forego before she could afford the great oak dining table she knew she’d one day want to buy. Few people of her age calculated quite like Meredith. She lived with a sort of defiant purposefulness.

Fionnuala tied her hair back – pulling each strand into that tight dancer’s bun. She fiddled with the bobby pins while trying to pull her jacket off the hook on the back of the door, slip into her tennis shoes, and reach for the bran muffin on the table. She was running late again. The door slammed shut behind her. But no sooner had the sound been swallowed by the high-ceilinged apartment when the door flung open again and the young dancer vaulted toward the dresser to grab the $5 bill sitting camouflaged between a few stray crumpled papers. She owed her $5 and wasn’t about to forget to pay her back yet again. She tucked it into her ballet bag and slammed the door shut once again.

Gavin Casey sat in his armchair for a very long time before he stirred. He was seated in semi-darkness by the time 4 o’clock came and late-autumn brought early night. He arose from his chair, went over to turn on the lamp, and stood by the old bookcase where he began to leaf through a few old albums. He stood for a while looking for the one from their trip to America. Maire and he had been married but a short while when the young couple had crossed the sea to America for three months. He now held the album of souvenirs in his oldish hands. There were train ticket stubs, and stamps, postcards, and this $5 bill. He would give it to his granddaughter now, he thought, for her voyage across the same sea.

Eli Schechter sat in the window of Katz’s Delicatessen on the Lower East Side. He sat eating his traditional Katz’s Knobelwurst and gazed somewhat distantly out the window onto the sidewalk of East Houston Street – and all that lay beyond. A crisp new $5 bill and some change sat next to his lunch and as he reached for another bite, he saw the crispness and thought about how the design had evolved since his first visit to Katz’s. He also thought about how much the prices had gone up. He was far back in thought now – probably 60 years or more. He was remembering another young man and his wife – fresh off the boat from Ireland – and how their first stop had been Katz’s. Eli remembered breaking a $10 bill for the man – with two 5s – and how he had explained the currency to the face as fresh as that of Abe Lincoln’s on the new banknote.

1923 and Abraham Lincoln first appeared on the $5 bill. Avi Schechter walked to the bank – eager to be among the first to withdraw the new note. He would get two – one for himself and one for his young son. He would sit him down and explain to him about the history and about trade and savings. There was almost a bounce in Avi’s step as he rounded the corner and stood before the great Bank of New York’s grand façade.