◊◊◊
On our trip home, I suggested we stop at the hospital and see Tim. It was hard to see a fellow athlete hurt as severely as he was. While Tim was upbeat and full of hope, his eyes told me he had some doubts. It would be a lot of work, but I knew that Tim would be back and ready to play next year.
The guys were quiet when we left. They all seemed to be lost in their own thoughts.
I got home and told my parents about my trip. I was surprised when Mom admitted that she and Dad were still having some problems, but they had worked on them this weekend. She told me they would probably not go to any more recruiting visits this year because they still had issues they needed to work out.
◊◊◊
I entered the lobby at Rigby, Thompson and Associates, walked up to the reception desk, and asked for Megan. Megan was a diminutive slip of a girl, barely over five feet tall, with black glasses but a sweet smile. The thought popped into my head that if ever there was a nickname for her, it would have to be ‘Mouse.’ She greeted me with a smile and a warm handshake.
“Hi, David, I’m Megan. I understand you need a new income statement for your bank.”
“Yeah, Kendal said you would get it for me.”
She led me back to her office and sat me down next to her in front of a computer with a giant monitor.
“Okay, let’s pull your information up and see what we have.”
Megan typed in a string of commands and up popped a bunch of rows and columns of numbers. I looked at her and shrugged my shoulders. I had no interest in bookkeeping and was more than happy to have them do this for me.
“I’m sure someone understands that, but I sure don’t,” I admitted.
“Just watch,” Megan said with a hint of a smile.
She typed in a few more commands, clicked on the mouse a few times, and all of a sudden there were a number of colored pie charts on the screen. I looked at it for a second and then turned to her with my eyebrows raised.
“Is that my information?” I asked.
“This shows your income from modeling and movies as well as expenses, both in hard numbers and as a percentage of total income. It’s also shown by quarters for the previous year and a half.”
I’m sure my jaw dropped. The charts made this much more understandable. Kendal had always shown my dad and me reports that were rows of numbers. With just a quick glance I could see where all my money came from. It was interesting to see how it had changed over time. Modeling had gone from my only income to one of the smaller portions. Two sections that surprised me were photo resales and revenue from the leads I had created for both Ford and Adrienne. I received an override on that business, and it seemed to grow over time. The farm had started to pay off. The recent harvest and the cattle sales had hit this quarter. It turned out I was flush with cash right now.
“Can I see a hard copy of that? It’s amazing,” I said.
“Sure!” she said. “Give me another moment.”
The mouse rolled and clicked away again merrily, and a very pretty document titled ‘Income Statement’ appeared. Megan clicked away again for a minute and then got up.
“Be right back! These documents can only be printed on one printer, and I have to go get the printouts.”
I watched her through her office glass as she went a couple of doors down, produced a key, and entered another room. Half a minute later she reappeared with some papers in her hand. She picked two out and handed them to me.
“There you go, a completely up-to-date income statement in five minutes,” Megan said with a smile.
“What are the other pages?” I asked.
“I just wanted to show you these, so you have an idea what we can do to help you understand your finances.”
She then showed me the printouts of the colorful pie charts. Megan took the time to talk me through them. She pointed out where the money came in and what I spent it on. Something became clear from the charts: for my long-term security, I needed to find other sources of income like the farm.
I got ready to leave.
“Not so fast, wait,” Megan said as she plucked the pie-chart sheets out of my hand. "These are confidential. See the coding at the bottom? Anything that comes out with this coding is considered confidential client information, and we don’t let hard copies out of the building without a signed release. The codes themselves show the date and time it was printed out and who’s doing the printing. It also shows how many pages of documents are being printed. See here, it says ‘page 4 of 8.’ You’re going to take two pages with you, and here’s the release to sign for them. The remaining six pages are going into the shredder.
“This is called a Document Management System. It protects you and us because it’s your information, not ours. So, please leave these six pages here, and I’ll shred them before you’ve made it out the door. We don’t even keep hard copies, and no one not working on your account has access to these files.”
“So, how did you get access?” I asked because she didn’t work with me.
She blushed.
“I had to call Mr. Rigby this morning and ask to be added, and I had to tell him why.”
I smiled and shook my head. I guessed this kind of security had to be important, or they wouldn’t have it.
“Thanks for the income statements, then. It was nice to meet you, but I have to go,” I said.
Megan smiled and waved me off. The sounds of her paper shredder doing its job followed me as I stepped into the hallway. I smiled as I walked down the hall. Mouse, indeed.
◊◊◊
Somehow my car found its way to Zoe and Roc’s place. I pulled into the farmyard and saw two horses saddled. Roc walked out of the barn.
“You’re late,” he accused me.
“What do you mean? I never said I was coming over.”
“My sister had to do her chores all by herself. She even had to saddle the horses. You’re usually here a couple of hours earlier.”
I just shook my head. I didn’t realize that Zoe expected me at any particular time. She came out of the barn and had a look of relief when she saw me.
“I wasn’t sure if you were coming or not,” she said.
“Well, there is this modern convenience called a phone. I know you have one because I’ve called the house before,” I teased.
She walked up to me shyly, and her head dropped.
“I wasn’t sure if I should,” Zoe said.
Roc snorted and was rewarded with a glare that told him to run. He laughed all the way to the house. I took her hand and led her to the horses. We didn’t say anything as we got on, and she led the way up the country road. Zoe and I rode for about twenty minutes while I told her about our trip to Michigan. Then I slowed down when we came upon a ‘for sale’ sign in front of a farm. Zoe noticed what I was looking at.
“The Nelsons are losing it to the bank. It was an egg farm, and they got hit with that bird flu,” she said.
An epidemic that had struck the egg industry. There was a time that the only eggs you could buy were free-range brown eggs because of the outbreak. Since then, egg prices had gotten ridiculous. I predicted that egg prices would remain high moving forward. Only the large farmers could afford to replace their birds and continue. I would ask my mom about this farm when I got a chance.
We rode a little farther until we came to an apple orchard. Zoe rode through the gate and took me to the back of the grove. There was a little clearing off to the side of a field next to a forested area. We got off the horses, and she took me to the edge of the clearing where there was a trail. Old walnut trees were scattered throughout the forest area. It felt like we had stepped back in time; this was what this area must have been like before it was all converted to farmland.