Must Read: The Promise Keeper - Season 1 - Episode 14

7 years ago

Must Read: The Promise Keeper - Season 1 - Episode 14

The City Kitchen’s fundraising banquet was a week prior to the new audit. The pressure mounting on Shade showed in her face. She couldn’t stop the banquet, its proceeds are necessary to keep the kitchen running.
“They’re going to ruin me,” Shade said with surprisingly calm, “maybe this was all meant to end.” I saw the signs of depression setting in. I knew them well.
“Only if you let them.” I avoided the word ‘we.’ It was hard not to try to make it our problem. It felt like it was ours.
“I’m going to need you if I fight,” Shade said as she stopped slicing onion and looked up at me. I tied off the garbage bag I had just pulled it out of the can and smiled with confidence. She needed the support.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I watched her lips curve into a malicious grin as she went back to the onion. The knife moved with blazing speed. I think she was imagining FIRS fingers as she cut.

Shade woke me early the next morning. She handed me the morning paper. There was a small article in the bottom right of the front page. ‘Promise Keeper Alive?’ was the heading.
“They say there were movements in your accounts,” Shade said quietly. There was no one else here so I wasn’t sure why she was almost whispering. “They are requesting you come forward.”
“I made a donation yesterday,” I whispered back. It was contagious, the whispering. “I guess they were monitoring the accounts.” I read the article and, as Shade had said, a detective Bakare was asking me to come forward and claim my wallet. “I’m not ready to go back. Not with that singing thing.” For some reason, I didn’t like being forced back into society. I was planning to drift back slowly.

Shade sat on the edge of the camp bed.
“You can hide as long as you need.” She took the newspaper back. “Forever if you need to.” Dolapo would have loved Shade.

Dolapo never let the world tell her what to do.

She made up her own mind and then steered the world to it. I saw a lot of that drive in Shade.

I just needed to get the FIRS out of her way so she could live her life, her way.
“Thank you,” I responded, and meant it.

Shade’s eyes sparkled as she rose.
“We have work to do,” Shade stated. It wasn’t lost on me that she used the word ‘we.’ I jumped out of bed. There were people to feed and an FIRS audit to thwart.

A week before the banquet, my beard had finally come into its own. Shade hated it, but endured it for my anonymity. She gave me a battery operated trimmer so I would at least keep it groomed. I had spent countless hours going over Shade’s tax returns. There were no glaring errors. Nothing that would even hint at fraud. I was confident the witch hunt would end the next week. The FIRS has a lot of power, but would still have to defend themselves in court if need be.

Unfortunately, I was not prepared for the next bomb to drop. Shade and I were standing at the head of the line, monitoring the dining hall when a fat gentleman in jeans, red shirt and papa’s cap pushed his way to the front.

Shade moved quickly, her glare set to dagger mode.
“You must be new.” Shade stated the obvious and moved to block the man from moving forward. I moved in next to her, thinking she looked awfully small next the man.
“Shade Aiyeto?” the man asked with little politeness.
“Yes, and your name?” Shade responded with an equal lack of charm. The man handed her an envelope.
“You’ve been served.” The man smiled and headed out the door. Shade’s shoulders slumped, then her back straightened again. She moved back to allow the rest of the line through, gritting her teeth.
“Can you keep your eyes on things, Frank?” Shade asked with false calm. I nodded and she headed off to the office. She didn’t return.

When the meal ended I started the clean-up process without Shade. When everyone was assigned a task I went to the office, my temporary home, looking for her. I found her asleep on the camp bed. Shade’s eye sockets were blushed red and sunken. I quietly moved to the desk where a stapled set of papers lay.

The top sheet had a few small crinkled spots where wetness had dried. Tears.

I picked up the papers and read. I felt my throat knot at the first few paragraphs. A class action lawsuit filed by a donor claiming fraud. There were twenty seven pages of legal language and the citing of precedents. Both the City Kitchen and Shade were at risk. These people, whoever they were, were not going to stop with a fraudulent FIRS audit. Shade was right, they were going to ruin her.

I sat on the floor and watched Shade sleep. I wanted to wake her and tell her it was going to be okay, but that would only make it worse for her. In the end, she was innocent and would prevail. I just didn’t know when the end would arrive. The lawyers she needed to hire would most likely charge enough to send everything into a financial ruin.

I rose, opened the file cabinet and retrieved the donor book for three years ago. I turned to the page with Dolapo’s name and ran my finger across it. Dolapo saw something in this place, something in need of support. There was no way I was going to let Dolapo or Shade down, not while I was breathing. Defense was no longer an option.

I left Shade sleeping, and quietly left the room.

She needed the sleep, and I needed to think. I cleaned and inspected, letting the helpers go once everything was to Shade’s standards. I locked up and sat in the main hall, thinking. The rudiments of a plan developed, I knew the lawsuit wasn’t the end. The timing was deliberate. They meant to kill the banquet and destroy the City Kitchen’s funding. Things would get worse before they got better. I would need help, and, to get it, I had to come out of hiding.