By Rosemarie DiCristo
Gramps never did like paying taxes. But that didn’t mean he should abolish the IRS.
“Never have I used the word ‘abolish,’” he protested to Grandma, as he’d done every April for each of the thirteen years I’d lived with them. “But what’s wrong with invisible-izing myself?”
He meant really invisible-izing, as in, all records of his existence, his work history, his bank statements… non-existent, as far as the world was concerned.
He had that power.
“Plenty,” Grandma replied as she did every April for those thirteen years, “because it’s both unethical and illegal, and if everyone did what you did, the IRS could very well be abolished.”
“Small loss,” Gramps muttered.
I quipped, “But only firstborn, red-headed males in our family have that power, Grams, and there’s only two of them, so the IRS is safe.”
“Don’t you go admiring him, Bobby,” she warned. “Your grandfather’s a rapscallion and a scoundrel.”
They’re totally, deeply in love. Really. Grandma had won over Gramps with her “contrarian” act during their days as childhood sweethearts. She charmed him by bucking his every whim, even stringing him along with his own second cousin, Walt. Pretending to prefer Walt up to and during the wedding ceremony kept the excitement alive in their relationship.
“Darned if she wasn’t making googly-eyes at Walt as she walked down the aisle,” Gramps grumbled whenever Grandma got particularly obstreperous. Which was often. “Didn’t know until the priest said I could kiss her if she was intending to back out on me.”
Walt was an even more sore subject in our house than taxes.
Taxes.
I’d heard versions of Gramps’s “invisible-ize” speech since the day he and Grandma took me in. My folks died in 1963 when I was six, but Gramps had been cheating on—er, invisible-izing—his taxes since 1956. That’s the year he refused to sell one-third of his farm to the government through eminent domain. Mostly I supported him silently—power to the people and all that—but in 1976 everything changed.
Gramps grunted as he lowered himself onto the sofa beside me and placed a wrinkled hand on my knee. “Now that you’re working, Bobby, I can deal you in on the invisible-izing.”
“Cool,” I said.
Grandma groaned.
Okay, I don’t really buy into Gramps’s belligerence toward the government. But money suddenly becomes precious when you have to earn it, and things get crazy-expensive when you have to buy them on your own.
Corvette convertibles, for instance. Season tickets to the Knicks.
Besides, I had a girlfriend.
“It’s not like I’ll stay invisible-ized forever,” I said, mostly to appease Grandma. “Like, when I’m earning lots of money, I’ll pay my fair share. But for now… How fast can you invisible-ize me, Gramps?”
He moved his lips without speaking, did a swirly thing with his left hand, then said, “Done!”
On April 16, our doorbell rang.
You don’t often get a personal visit from the IRS. But when it’s your own second cousin, who’s always had his dagger out for you…
“Oh.” Gramps’s voice was flatter than an uncooked pancake. “Walt.”
Walt made a sweeping, sarcastic bow. “The one and only. And the only person on Earth able to deduce what you’re up to.”
Walt had The Power, too.
“Took you long enough,” drawled Gramps.
“I was waitin’ for you to dig yourself a deep enough hole.” Then his face grew serious. “And I don’t want you takin’ the young feller here with you.”
I shifted uncomfortably under Walt’s steely glare.
“Ha,” Gramps said, “but you’d bring me down fast enough.”
“Like lightning,” Walt agreed.
Gramps chewed on his lip for a bit. Since it was Walt who’d discovered him, there was absolutely no way out. “So, what’s the verdict? A hefty fine?”
Walt snorted. “I’m thinkin’ jail time. Lots and lots of jail time.”
“Just for skimping on a few years—”
“Try decades.”
“—of taxes?”
“Yessir. We got a regulation promisin’ one year of jail for each year of unpaid taxes.” Walt’s smile was shark-like. “There’s also all them other things that never got tooken out of your salary these twenty-odd years.”
“You’ll never do it.” Gramps sounded smug. “You’d reveal our power.”
“Ah, I got plenty of ways of doin’ it. I can visible-ize everything, easy-peasy, and then pretend our crackerjack new computers revealed your wrongdoing to me.”
“Don’t think you got a snowball’s chance in that hot place with me while my Freddie’s in the clinker,” Grandma thundered at Walt, wrapping her arms around Gramps.
“Wouldn’t expect it,” Walt replied. “Sometimes, revenge is the sweetest dish on the table.”
“Is jail necessary, Cousin Walt?” I asked.
“Well…” He drawled the word out for nearly fifteen seconds while he scratched behind an ear. “Considering how Fred tried to abolish—”
“I never—”
“Hush! Abolish the IRS… mebbe it’s only right that we abolish him.”
Gramps’s eyes resembled ping-pong balls. “You mean there’s a death penalty for…?”
Walt smirked. “Abolish your reputation.”
We stared blankly at him.
“I’m thinkin’ articles in the local papers tellin’ what you done, with headlines, oh, say, three inches high. TV coverage, too.”
Gramps hooted. “That’s it?”
“Nope. There’s also that hefty fine. And surely you know you gotta pay back what you owe, after which the IRS will be plenty forgiving.” Walt’s smirk got smirkier. “If you need help financin’ your debt, I’d gladly buy some of your land. Done?”
Gramps scowled as fiercely as if Walt had threatened to take his wife instead of his land. Which pretty much was what Walt had said. Gramps sighed. “Done.”
Before he left, Walt patted my shoulder. “I’ll visible-ize your records, young Bobby,” he said kindly. “First offense and all that. Easy come, easy go, no harm done.”
I tried to look chastened. “Yeah, no, Cousin Walt; scout’s honor, I’ll never invisible-ize myself from the IRS again.”
Luckily, so far no one’s noticed that, in 1977, Gramps invisible-ized both of us from that jury duty thing.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Loved this!🤣 Probably everyone has a wayward Gramps in the family!
BAHAHAHA! I was waiting for that last line zinger! Love it!
Just like Pam, I knew a zinger would come. I.love your stories. Keep ’em comin’!
Thanks everyone; I really had a lot of fun writing this one!
Good job, especially on that zinger at the end!
Hahaha this is a great story for the month! Thank you for sharing :)
Fun stuff!