I called Norton in the morning. He was still "mad" at me. Which I found funny, but bit my tongue. As soon as I said "road trip" he perked right up. Then he wouldn't stop jabbering. I had a sinking feeling that this would be a lot more fun for him than it would be for me. I asked him to come over around noon, because I had a bunch of things I needed help getting sorted and loaded into the Fargo. He promised he'd be over with bells on.
He wasn't kidding. At noon I got a knock on the door, and there he was standing in the doorway wearing a jesters cap complete with bells. When he walked through the kitchen the tinkling must have sounded like a kitty toy, because Clarence 1 who likes to sit on top of the fridge, launched himself at Norton's head. For a couple of seconds I stood there laughing while Norton tried to remove 18 pounds of purring calico cat (mental note, time to trim Clarence's claws).
After showing Norton the various boxes, and lists of things I had to pack and sort. He waved me off saying (and I quote) "I got it buddy, you head off and do your stuff, I got this."
This was as good a time as any to head in to see Vernon. Vernon is my book keeper. He likes to think he's my accountant because he took a semester of accounting at community college. He is a whiz with numbers and probably knows more about the ins and outs of finances better than most, and I trust him. His dad Vernon Sr. was a Rotarian, not to mention a Paul Harris Fellow (a big deal apparently), and the apple didn't fall far from the tree.
Vernon is an odd duck. He's one part Floyd the Barber (his voice) and one part Count Floyd (his hair) and every time we get together he plays the part. Last time I went to see him a plastic spider fell on me and I just about crapped myself, and Vernon laughed so hard he almost fell off his chair. Anyway, I arrived at his office and went in looking for him. I called his name a couple of times but he didn't answer.
It's not unheard of for Vernon to step out and leave the office open. I went to hang my coat in the closet, as I reached in to get a hanger an arm shot out and grabbed my hand followed by a loud "BOO!" I think I spotted myself at both ends. Vernon came out of the closet (don't go there) practically jumping up and down, "Oh man. Oh man," he said in his Floyd the Barber lisp "I got you. I got YOU."
After drinking a glass of water, and checking my pants, Vernon and I got down to business. It took about an hour and a half. The short story was I was making money and keeping up with my invoicing and payables, but somehow there was an unexplained gap between my income and expenses, and Vernon was stumped. I admitted that it was a head scratcher and that I'd have to look into it some more after the weekend. Vernon walked me to the door, and patted me on the back as I left. Thankfully I found the "kick me" sign before I got to the car.
When I got home Norton was gone, and there was a note on the fridge. "Just about done. The truck's loaded, and I'll be back tomorrow to finish up." This was almost too good to be true. I went to the shop, and sure enough all of my stuff was gone, and the check lists were on a table with check marks and scribbles beside all of the tasks.
Maybe I'd been too hard on the kid.
Anyway, it was getting late, and I was getting hungry. I gave Margaret a call and asked her what she was doing for dinner. She invited me over (yes!) for dinner. We spent the evening just chatting and hanging out. It was nice.
Oh yeah, Clarence 2, is starting to look a lot better. I guess getting outside really helped. All of them looked like the cat who swallowed the proverbial canary all day.
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