Smartystan

All of the reports and finances had been accounted for…she thought. Belinda made herself haggard by looking for all of the digital forms that constituted her tax return for the year. She knew that she didn’t have to pay them. She knew that it was not a necessity, punishable by law with threats to garnish wages, fine, and even throw her in jail. Despite all that, she actually enjoyed paying her taxes. The thrill of knowing that warriors, cops, and judges supported and defended and settled for her was enough for her to pay millions of dollars to the government.

“I’ve tried that already,” Belinda reminded her accountant.

“I know, Miss Gummer, but I’ve checked everywhere as well. There’s simply no other digital documents––”

“Wait, my phone!”

“You keep your records on your phone?” Certified Public Accountant Gabriel Forente asked. He was about five foot seven inches and looked like a diplomat or some kind of dignitary. He didn’t stand on his toes but he never slouched which made him look inches taller.

“Sure. I like to keep my numbers close.”

“Alright, let’s look at it.”

Belinda swiped open her phone with a bat of her eye. She opened an app and peered at the numbers on the page.

“Got it!” she showed it to Forente.

“Those are from two years ago, darling,” Forente asserted.

“I know that. This is the app that shows from the time I started recording all of my assets, losses, and liabilities on my mobile device.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s look and see on this one.”

Belinda and Forente looked at the phone. They didn’t show any of last year’s figures.

“Two years ago like I said, Miss Gummer.”

“Did I have physical copies?”

“You haven’t had digital copies since…I can’t even remember,” Forente attempted to recall.

“That’s alright. They’re probably in the Cloud. Everything is in the Cloud.”

Belinda flew through the atmosphere, looking to have a Cloud shower her with documents that would allow her to pay her taxes.

“This is your fault,” Belinda said with a sly grin.

“My fault?!” Forente played along.

“You stopped looking at my expenditures and even taught me how to do my own taxes. IF you hadn’t been such a good teacher––”

“And you such a terrible record keeper––”

“Shut up!” she giggled. “Seriously, though, I used to have you and about nine other accountants combing through the business records and my personal finances.

“I did enjoy looking at all your receipts from your purchases of shoes in Milan.”

“Those were fun times…but we must focus. We have to look at the entire series of documents that we handled last year.”

“We? Remember, this is all you. I’m just here to see you through all of the legalese again.”

“Thanks, again, for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Alright, we’re on the right track. We’re in the Cloud now. It’s issuing forth all kinds of documents and spreadsheets. This is the turning point. I can feel it!”

“Don’t allow your enthusiasm to get the best of you, Miss Gummer. You still have to find each one. I’ll be happy to throw this one on the house.”

“No, I’m paying my own way. I’ve been a student of financial records ever since grade school. I just called for all you CPAs because I knew you could probably do an even better job than myself.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, we can see how many documents there are in this Cloud. It looks like…fourteen…hundred.”

“Search for the previous year.”

Belinda did what she was told. Error messages kept coming up over and over again.

“I can’t believe this. All of this just to get to the taxes I want to pay. I’m just considering the irony. I remember the entrepreneurs looking for loopholes in tax collection companies and stressing about paying them. At this point, I’m trying to find records so I can actually offer up my ‘fair share’ for my selfish lifestyle.”

“You’ve certainly lived the life of ten women,” Forente remarked.

“Awww, thanks, Gabe.”

“I’m not even here.”

The two of them looked through her phone to discover what she had on it. They started poking around with a word processor. Then, a spreadsheet.

“I think I’m onto something here,” Belinda said with a sing-song voice. It

It had everything. Her hundred dollar drinks she sipped at the Mercier restaurant; it showed her multimillion-dollar donations to children's hospitals; it showed the summer home she just purchased for a cool ten million dollars. Everything. Belinda sighed.

“I just knew that I wouldn’t be able to achieve this feat. Now, I know what to do.”

“Do you still need me?” Forente asked.

“No, your services are no longer required,” she remarked.

Forente turned to leave.

“Oh, but just another thing….” Belinda suggested.

“How am I supposed to send out this whole thing? I mean it's got a lot of data on it.”

“Goodbye, Miss Gummer,” Forente said drolly.

Belinda blocked his pathway.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” he said.

“C’mon, Gabe. Just watch me work. I can do this by myself, but it wouldn’t be half as fun. What do you say?”

Forente gave her a stern look, then…relented.

“Alright, I have time to check your work. But only to check it. You wanted to do your taxes alone, you're going to do them. I’ll just correct your mistakes.”

“There won’t be any mistakes. I am well-equipped at the art of numbers and how to use them and what they can do.”

“Manipulate them?”

“No, not at all. Just employ them to show the truth. Yes I bought that dress. And yes I purchased those stilettos. All of it is here. Not to mention my income payment for governmental services.”

“Ah, yes. You have to be excited about the fact that you will once again be paying for all of this. That’s the power of the dollar. For filing by yourself, you know that you are actually doing the work that the ten of us could be doing. But you chose independence. There is no bonus for such a choice but it is nevertheless just as admirable.”

“Thank you.”