Must Read: The Promise Keeper - Season 1 - Episode 8

7 years ago

Must Read: The Promise Keeper - Season 1 - Episode 8

[]Okay…this is really personal
“People do not get married planning to divorce. Divorce is the result of a lack of preparation for marriage and the failure to learn the skills of working together as teammates in an intimate relationship.”
― Gary Chapman, Things I Wish I’d Known Before We Got Married
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The next morning started the same as the first in all but one respect. Shade was smiling when she opened the door. The books must be an absolute disaster. I took a shower, which I now appreciated greatly, and met Hassan. He was a shy younger man who was to replace me. We shared the dryer. Not unexpectedly, there were two of everything waiting for use. Two towels, two toothbrushes and two shampoos and soaps.
Shade never prepared more than necessary.

Exactly what was needed and nothing more, but it was always exactly what was needed.
Shade took me into a small office connected to the kitchen. It looked as clean and organized as the rest of the building. There were three four-drawer black file cabinets labelled by year, plus a small desk with an old computer and small printer. A stack of folders, each labelled with a month and year, were piled next to the keyboard.
“These are this year’s receipts.” Shade pointed to the stack of folders, “I hope you are familiar with the accounting system of NGOs.” She logged into Microsoft Money I was quite familiar with. I nodded my head. So far so good. “Can you make sure it is all correct? Nothing can be wrong.” I looked at her worried expression. All of this seemed too neat and orderly to be worrisome. “You just want me to audit the books?” I asked, the surprise evident in my tone.
“Please, it’s important.” Shade left before I sat down. She never even doubted I would do it, but I did note she used the word ‘please.’
I made myself familiar with Shade’s chart of accounts and printed off a balance sheet as of the first of the year. With that starting point, I began matching receipts to journal entries. Her record keeping was meticulous. I had very little trouble reconstructing what she had done.

There were no journal entries without supporting documentation and each receipt corresponded to an entry. I was impressed. It is rare to find such perfect record keeping. I ended with printing a current balance sheet and income statement. Everything was perfect to the penny. It had only taken me four hours to complete.
“What’s the verdict?” Shade asked as I walked into the kitchen with my notes. She seemed apprehensive and I couldn’t understand where it was coming from. There was no way she could think her books were bad.
“All good,” I responded confidently, “you expensed some things as repairs that I probably would have capitalized, but you did it consistently. There is nothing wrong that I could find. In fact, they are very accurate and well done.” Shade visibly let out the breath she had been holding.
“Do you think you could look at the three previous years?” It began to make sense.
“You’re getting audited,” I stated. Only the FIRS could make someone like Shade fidget. She waved me back into the office.
“Yes,” Shade answered once we were alone. She pulled an envelope from a drawer and handed me the letter inside. The FIRS was auditing her last three tax returns and wanted to examine her supporting documentation.

There was a paragraph about providing necessary documentary support to maintain her charitable status. The letter seemed to be worded a bit differently than a standard audit letter. The amount of money involved usually didn’t generate FIRS flags and certainly didn’t warrant an audit this deep for an NGO only M&E would have sufficed.
“This seems a bit heavy-handed,” I offered when I handed back the letter.
“Will you look at the last three years?”
“Sure,” I answered, with some fight in my words. I never did like it when the FIRS picked on the innocent. Frankly, Shade was doing the world a favour. I had only known her for three days and I could tell the city needed her. “It will take a few days and I’ll need the tax returns.”
“Each year has its own drawer.” Shade hastily pointed toward the file cabinets, “The first folder contains the tax returns.” “It will be alright,” I said, trying to calm her nervousness. “They can only go after fraud. I’ve seen nothing coming close to that. If your tax returns reflect your financials, this will be nothing but an annoyance.” Shade looked slightly more relieved and even gave me half a smile.
“Thanks.” Shade left the office for a moment then poked her head back in. “What are you doing here?” I guess my skills didn’t make sense with my homelessness.
“Nothing criminal, I assure you,” I said in all honesty. Of course, if I was a criminal, I would have said the same thing. Shade seemed to size me up and accept me at my word. Either that, or I was the only one convenient to trust. I was busy putting this year’s files into their proper drawer as she returned to work.

Hassan and I were in the front of the line when ‘I Need An Angel’ came over the speakers. It seems auditors gain the same rights and privileges as prep cooks. Felicia winked at me and gave me a slightly larger portion. I winked back in a friendly way and waited for Fabio again.
“I owe you,” Fabio said with a mouth full of food. I wished I could live day to day like he could. He seemed to have no concerns beyond the present. I envied the freedom he had built in his own mind. My mind was still lost in the past. My precious Dolapo was gone and I was forgetting her face. I could imagine her touch and her voice. It was her face that was fading.

The rest would follow. My mind was too weak to hold on.
“You owe me nothing but good company,” I said. Fabio laughed and told me about the boat he saw get caught among the pilings under the bridge earlier. It took the better part of the day and two more boats to get it free. To him, it was quality TV. I laughed when he told me how one guy was trying to rig a pull line while straddling both boats. They invariably pulled apart and sent the guy into the river. To Fabio, the incident was as good as soap opera. For me, a moment not lost in the past.
“Good evening, Fabio.” Shade had snuck up on us again. “Why don’t you show Frank how get a warm bed tonight.”
“Shade, a man lives where he wants,” Fabio stated firmly. It was funny watching him consolidate behind his beliefs. I was strangely flattered. Shade rolled her eyes, reached into the pocket of her blue flowered skirt and placed a foil-wrapped fish on his tray. Fabio smiled and I stared dumbfounded at Shade. “But a man ought to know all the options,” Fabio retracted quickly.
“Thank you, Fabio.” Shade never really looked at me. She just headed back to monitor the line.
“You’re the best thing I ever pulled out of the river,” Fabio said slowly as he unwrapped his precious fish.
“Did you tell Shade how you found me?”
“That’s for you to say.” Fabio took a small bite of the fish, obviously trying to make it last. “Sometimes it is best not to say – leave it in the past.” That I had to agree with.