Episode 22: Seeing the Big Picture

From Under Dark Clouds

From Under Dark Clouds

'From Under Dark Clouds...' is a Gonzo fictionalisation of current events in Greece as seen through the eyes of our unnamed hero as he fumbles from paranoia to public office, under the mentorage of the shady Socrates.

I can’t say I understood what I saw on the screen but I sat mesmerised, dear blogees. Mike put his arm round my shoulder, stoked to be able to share this revelation with someone who really cared. We locked each other in a hearty bro-hug.

“So, I can do my tax declaration online now?”

Mike visibly deflated and shook his head woefully. What we were looking at was the tax department’s files. This is where they calculate what they they will make us pay at the end of the year and we could change that for anyone. We began looking through the files on people we knew shaving a few euros from those we liked and adding a few to those we didn’t.

I stopped the game, “Don’t they have paper files on all these people?”

Mike stopped, “Yeah, sure they do, but who reads them?”

I pointed out that they may start reading them if they had a problem, if people started to complain. Who would complain about paying less tax? People never think they’re paying too little and when they submit paper that doesn’t reconcile, they’ll start following the paper. Not to mention the tax inspectors looking for a backhander. They were always looking for someone to put the screws on and they were old-school. This made him think.

I told him to go into the Spyros the supermarketeer’s file. His total owed was enough to run town hall for months. His list of assets, apartments, land, businesses. I looked to Mike incredulously.

“He made all this from coffee and corn flakes?” I asked.

He looked at me and smiled at my naivety. I put the question again. I didn’t really expect an answer, I just couldn’t believe that such a miserable man could have all this and still complain when I didn’t have change at the till. But, I had made a deal with him and Mike now had a roof over his head. We shaved a sum that would have paid Mike’s salary for at least six months, still leaving a fairly hefty contribution to the city’s coffers.

Mike pulled out a half-drunk bottle of scotch and two glasses. “I think some celebration is in order!”

I shrugged and made my leave. I would have loved a drink and with Mike, one of my favourite people right now but I wanted to be back home.

The wife was asleep but her warm snoring body was uncomplicated and comforting.

The next day, I set about my obligations. Meeting with some people of importance from central government. I made a point about our staff wages. There was no funding and our credit line had dried up, if I wanted to pay them I would need to find money from other sectors, maybe schools or the health centre. Essential work on infrastructure was still long overdue. The water was leaking into the streets in some areas and a motorcyclist had ended up in the emergency ward after hitting an enormous pot hole that had opened on the high street. I should put more pressure on those who owed local taxes. I reminded them that they were being collected by central and the electricity company now, bypassing my office. This evoked a shrug and I was told to look at the big picture. I was trying, but the pixels just kept getting in the way.

I rode my Vespa from a car park full of cars, all shiny and German. The rest of the afternoon was spent signing pieces of paper before they went to be stamped. I did, however learn that some more of the residents of the basement had moved into Spiro’s apartments to make a home, however temporary. This was the highlight.

I hadn’t spent any time with Socrates in ages and I needed his stoic council. He had got me into this and I had never needed him more. The waiter came to our table and he ordered for both of us but I had to tell the waiter to simply bring me a coffee. Socrates looked visibly shocked. The doctor had me on some medication that didn’t play well with booze and I simply didn’t need my wife and kids finding me dumped out of the door of a cab again. I was a new man, at least that was my ambition.

I told Socrates about the tragic state of the town hall with its staff living in the basement and no money for their salaries. He ummed and ahhed, occasionally looking over his glasses from some papers he was reading.

“They told me to take it out of the school’s budget!”

His reply was an exhaled SO. I was not getting through to him. I needed help from the only man I trusted to give me advice and he was too preoccupied with whatever it was that held his attention. I needed to shock him into listening. I told him about hacking into the tax department. He looked up and held me in his gaze, he had scared the living crap out of me with this look before but at least I knew I had his attention. I told him about the deal with Spyros the supermarketeer, which met with a Hmm of approval. I told him I knew it was wrong but I had no other options. He rocked his head and the corners of his mouth lifted a little.

“How did it work for you?” Socrates asked.

I told him that it had worked very well, surprisingly well but would not have been necessary if we had proper funding, not to mention that the thieving bastard had more money than God. His tax bill alone could have paid a good number of my staff.

Socrates’s glasses dropped down his nose, almost on purpose so his greying blue eyes could hold me unhindered. “You know what? You lack vision.”

I stuttered, something had changed since we had last met, he was no longer the grumpy old grandpa figure, in fact he appeared younger, more vital. I floundered for a riposte, but none came.

“You need to see the big picture, son.”

I wanted to tell him about pixels and definition and clarity and shit. All I could say was something about the staff, something recycled that didn’t need fresh thought.

“Things will have to get much worse, my boy. If they are to change at all.”

I sipped my coffee wishing it to be Irish and me to be elsewhere. He pulled the folder that had kept his attention throughout our conversation, placed it on the table and slid it toward me. I opened it. It was a list of names and dates and numbers each followed by a sum of money.

“You will give this to our man Micheal, he will know what to do with it.” He said.

I asked if they were more favours. Socrates told me that they were. I smiled, there was a lot of favours here, enough to do some real good work. Not just for the staff but for the town as a whole. I shared this thought with Socrates.

“Things must get much worse before anything can change,” he said before leaving me with the bill.

Don't forget to Follow and share with a friend, they'll love you a little more for it.Click the social links or send me your experiences through comments or Mail