May Moon’s Book of Choices
Sam Jam presents May Moon’s Book of Choices Illustrated by Jeffrey Yeh
May Moon’s Book of Choices Paperback ISBN: 978-962-7466-21-5 Text and illustrations © 2012 The Hong Kong Institute of Certified Public Accountants www.hkicpa.org.hk All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. The right of Nury Vittachi to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted, as have his moral rights with respect to the Work.
Dear readers, Welcome to the latest May Moon adventure! In this book, May learns a lot about how choices are made, and trust and respect gained, when it comes to money matters, or in the workplace. This is a really important subject because when it comes to work and money, it is very important for people to be able to trust each other. Hong Kong is known for its trustworthiness in matters of business, which is one of the reasons we are a successful financial centre. As certified public accountants whose work involves handling money, it is very important that other people can trust us. The accounting profession has a long history of working hard at earning and keeping other people’s trust. We gain trust by showing honesty, fairness, integrity and care in all that we do. CPAs or certified public accountants have a set of values to follow and when we make choices of dos and don’ts, we have to make them within the bounds of those values. During our years of training, CPAs learn to put those values to use for a lifetime, so we make the right choices as often as we can. Have a fun time reading May Moon’s Book of Choices and watching how May Moon learns money morals by making the right choices. (If you learn a little bit on the way, that will be a bonus!) Sincere regards, Hong Kong Institute of CPAs
May Moon’s book of choices 6
SAM JAM 7 Prologue It was a dark and stormy night. In fact, it was SO dark and stormy that even film directors who make scary movies were staying home, sitting on their sofas with their mothers. The street was deserted. Overhead, the sky was blueblack and starless, and only the tiniest sliver of new moon shone in one corner, shedding a ghostly light on a few leafless trees. At ground level, there was almost no light at all. The only house on this avenue was dark, silent and empty, as was the street. Or was it? No. A group of three people came into view and could be seen approaching the single old building. They walked steadily towards the closed door. But before they reached it, something else moved on the street, behind them. It was a woman, and she was clearly trying to stay out of sight. She kept hiding behind trees and lampposts, while keeping her eyes firmly on the trio in front of her. The group reached the door of the house. They opened it wide—and light shone from the doorway. Sounds could be heard, too: was there a party going on in the house? Maybe. It was hard to see past the new arrivals. They entered. The door shut behind them with a thud. Then the woman following in the shadows ran quickly up to the door. A sign on it said: “Ghost Club.” She did not knock. Instead, she reached for the door-
May Moon’s book of choices 8 handle and gently turned it. She swung the door open—and gasped. For now it opened straight onto a brick wall. For a moment, she didn’t know what to do. She just stood there with her mouth open. Then she tapped the wall. It was solid. Yet only seconds ago, she had seen people enter the building through this doorway. The woman sneaked around to the window and shone a flashlight into the room. It was empty and dusty, and looked like no one had been there for months, or maybe years. Where did those people go? She shook her head and said out loud to no one in particular: “I must be going crazy.”
SAM JAM 9 Chapter One Nine hours later, 68 and a half kilometres away, a sensible-looking woman wearing sensible glasses was eating a crumbly Danish pastry at a desk in a small bank. Brrrp-brrrp. Brrrp-brrrp. She snatched up the ringing phone efficiently with her left hand while using the other to wipe a napkin across her mouth. “Hello, Margaret Moon here.” She heard a low rumble in reply. Either an earthquake was phoning her—or it was her boss, Mr. Dreck, who had possibly the lowest voice in the world. “Congratulations,” Mr. Dreck’s voice growled like thunder. The woman sighed. “Hi, boss. Okay, what have I done now?” “Hey! Why so suspicious? I was being nice.” “Because you’re congratulating me, but my only achievement today has been to kill two cappuccinos, a Danish and my diet.” Mr. Dreck laughed, a sound like an all-timpani orchestra being sucked into a black hole. “Don’t be so negative, Margaret,” he said. “I have good news. You are being assigned to be head of banking at South Abbey Downs. It’s a big town, so it’s a promotion for you. You deserve congratulations.” The woman thought for a moment before replying. “South Abbey Downs? Isn’t Sammi Yeung the bank chief there? And isn’t that town going broke?” “Er, yes. But the place is too big for Sammi. We need
May Moon’s book of choices 10 someone who can get the job done. That’s you.” Margaret Moon rolled her eyes. “You mean you need someone too dumb to say NO to a tough assignment,” she said. “Same thing.” She laughed. At least he was being honest. “You accept the assignment? Good. I’ll send you full details in an email.” As she lowered the phone handset, Margaret Moon felt like a bus driver who had just been diverted onto a route with danger signals all over it. * * * That night, she broke the news to her daughter. “We’re moving house,” she said. “We’re going to a new town.” “Yippee,” said May, a spirited child with a big appetite for adventure. Her mother decided that encouraging positive expectations would probably be a bad thing at this stage. “Well, it may not be a ‘yippee’ thing, to be honest. The place we’re heading for may, er, take a bit of adjusting to.” “Oh,” said May, puzzled. “Are you saying we’re moving to, like, a HORRIBLE place? Why would we want to move somewhere bad?” Mrs. Moon sat down next to her daughter. “No, I’m not saying that it’s a bad place. It’s just that—well, it doesn’t have a reputation as a fun spot. We’re going to have to cheer it up a bit ourselves, I think.” May refused to be satisfied with this answer. She remembered the last time her mother tried to cover up something—and a few days later, they were in a panic, packing to leave town. “Okay, what happened? Did you do something wrong?”
SAM JAM 11 “No. I did something right. The bank has asked us to move, to say ‘thank you’ to me. I’m being promoted.” She took her daughter’s hand and looked her in the eye. “One of the things you learn when you grow up, Maisy-May, is that it’s not necessarily a bad thing when things get tougher. It could simply mean that you’ve been given a bigger challenge, because someone high up thinks you’re capable of greater things.” May was puzzled. Did she mean God or Mr. Dreck? Or both? She looked suspiciously at her mother. “If you do something right and you get sent somewhere bad, it feels like you’re being punished,” she said. “Well, that’s not true in this case,” Mrs. Moon said firmly. “Sometimes, being given a really tough road to travel is actually the biggest compliment you can get. And in such cases, getting to your destination leads to the greatest feeling of triumph ever.” She smiled at her daughter and hoped it was true. * * * Just before May turned off the light in her bedroom that night, she felt thirsty, and crept out of bed. Or perhaps the truth was that she was just too excited to sleep. Also, there was a lot of noise from the living room. Her mother’s book group was meeting, so half a dozen adults were talking at once. She slipped out of bed. As she approached the main room, she heard her mother talking to a friend about her new job. “My boss was really happy with what I did in the village. That’s why I’m being promoted to head of banking in a medium-sized town.” “What you did in this village was a miracle. What town are you moving to?” “South Abbey Downs.” The chattering stopped.
May Moon’s book of choices 12 After five seconds of silence, a voice asked: “Sadtown? You’re being posted to Sadtown?” May’s mother laughed—but it was a fake laugh, and no one else joined in. “Yes, I know that’s the nickname for it. But the real name is South Abbey Downs, and I think I’d rather call it that. But yes, you’re right. It’s the place that most people know as Sadtown.” “Er, good luck,” said two people at once. Their tone of voice suggested that she would really need it. May crept back to bed, worries creeping into her mind. Clearly, another awfully big adventure was coming up.
SAM JAM 13 Chapter Two A week later, May and her mother were packed and ready to go. Her father, a school principal, was busy setting up a school overseas, and wouldn’t be back until the end of term. May went from house to house in the village, saying goodbye to her best friends. She kept blinking to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes, but it was hard. They all promised to keep in touch, but she knew that she would lose some of them. Ten minutes later, as they were driving out of the village, May asked, “So, what’s this all about, Supermom? What’s the problem you have to fix at this place?” “I’ll tell you the truth, Maisybelle. Sadtown is the biggest problem town in the country. People say it’s turning into a ghost town. The community is shutting down, bit by bit, and no one really knows why. But you and I are going to find out what the trouble is—and we’re going to fix it.” * * * South Abbey Downs was much bigger than the village they had just left. It had thousands of inhabitants, and filled up a big chunk of the east side of a large valley in the south of the country. It was a big collection of houses and apartment blocks built on an old, disused quarry, so the land under the buildings was dusty and polluted, and it was all owned by the Valley Mining Corporation. They were greeted at a tea house in the main street by Sammi Yeung, one of Mrs. Moon’s old friends from
May Moon’s book of choices 14 her student days when she was studying accountancy. “I thought this was a new town, but it looks old,” said May, pointing to a boarded-up shop and an empty house with broken windows. “It’s a young town but a dying one,” said Sammi. “Everything’s disappearing: people, things, businesses, and worst of all, hope.” May put up her hand to ask a question, forgetting that she didn’t have to do that when she wasn’t in school. “What do you mean ‘disappearing’? Like a magician makes things disappear?” Her mother said: “I think she meant it as a figure of speech.” But Sammi shook her head. “No. Sometimes, things LITERALLY vanish. Stuff gets stolen all the time. People disappear too. Last week, people were seen going into a place on the edge of town called Ghost Club. Seconds later, they vanished—and so did the door they entered through, according to a witness.” Mrs. Moon said, “Was the witness sound of mind?” “The witness was ME,” said Sammi. “It was just weird. You may be right—I could be losing my mind. Comes from spending too much time in Sadtown, maybe.” May’s mother opened her mouth to say sorry. “Don’t apologize,” said Sammi. “It sounds crazy to me, too. That’s when I told the bank headquarters this place was too strange for me.” “So THAT’S why they called me,” Mrs. Moon said. Sammi smiled at her old friend. “If you fix this place, Margaret, you’ll be famous. It’ll make your career.” “And if we fail?” Sammi snapped her pencil in half. “Mr. Dreck will be MOST unhappy.” * * * May toured part of the town with a kid called Jeremy,
SAM JAM 15
May Moon’s book of choices 16 Sammi’s nephew. “There are lots of houses for sale,” he told her. “Lots of people want to leave. So do the kids. The town is really boring. There’s nothing to do. There’s no one in the park to play with, the school’s half empty and the youth club has closed.” They jumped onto a bus and went to the other side of town, which was filled with swampland. “This part used to be farmland, but it’s polluted and full of mosquitoes now,” Jeremy said. When he took May back to her mother, the girl waited until he was gone, and then said: “This place is like SO over. Let’s do whatever we have to do and get out, fast.” Mrs. Moon shook her head. “There are young people around. And that means it has potential. You never know what kids will achieve—isn’t that the truth, May?” After they had settled into a hotel, Mrs. Moon told her daughter that she had called a meeting of 10 town leaders for the following morning. They would come for coffee at the hotel.
SAM JAM 17 Chapter Three The next morning, Mrs. Moon bustled around, getting ready for her meeting. The mayor sent a note with his apologies, but the other nine people turned up on time. She greeted them politely. “I’m the new bank manager for this town,” she said. “And I know you’ve had money problems. But I know that if we work together, we can make things better for everyone.” A man with bags under his eyes put up his hand. “How? There are no jobs. The factories are disappearing. That means no one earns any money to buy anything. Which means that all the shops will eventually disappear. We just get poorer and poorer.” A woman with worry-lines on her forehead nodded. “Not only are the jobs going, but so are the people. All our young folk, as soon as they finish studying, move out of town.” A sad, bearded man interrupted. “The only people moving IN are ghosts. They gather at Ghost Club after midnight, I hear.” Mrs. Moon started to laugh, thinking he meant it as a joke, but the others shivered and nodded. She pretended she was just clearing her throat. “Ahem. Yes, the town has been shrinking lately, I did hear that,” she said. “But let’s remember—the biggest factor that affects your personal money situation is not your wage packet. It’s your attitude.” May, who was sitting at the next table doing some drawing, remembered that as an important lesson she
May Moon’s book of choices 18 had learned in her younger days. She interrupted with some wisdom of her own. “Being solvent has nothing to do with your income, and everything to do with your attitude,” she said. “Somebody famous said that, but I can’t remember who. And solvent, by the way, means not spending more than you have. That’s VERY important.” The adults turned to look curiously at the girl. Her mother smiled at her daughter and continued: “May’s right. And we’ll help you develop a mindset that will help to free you from money worries. I’ll offer a course which will give you advice on how to make your money grow. And my daughter will talk to your children about the same thing. She’s been on national television for her ability to teach money management skills to young people.” May leapt off her seat and bowed. The townsfolk didn’t clap or even smile. A man at the back said to Mrs. Moon: “You’re wasting your time. This town is history. I’m planning to move out myself, before the end of the year.” The conversation continued on the same lines for about half an hour. Then most of the townsfolk rose to their feet, ready to slouch gloomily out. Suddenly a man with white hair marched into the hotel coffee shop. “Ah, you’re all still here, good, good. I have some news,” he said. “Forgive me for interrupting your meeting, Mrs. Moon. I’m Ricardo Lee, the mayor of South Abbey Downs. We spoke on the phone yesterday. I finished my meeting and rushed here. I hope you won’t mind if I make an announcement. It’ll be something that will interest you, too, I think.” “Go right ahead,” said Mrs. Moon, who had run out of things to say to her miserable audience.
SAM JAM 19 “I have just been informed by the central government that a major grant from a corporation is available for a new arts centre to be built in the valley. It will be an entertainment complex which will include a theatre and a community centre. There’ll be lots of new jobs.” Some of the townsfolk lifted their heads at this news. “I think it’s very good news indeed. The Valley Mining Corporation, the main landlord of this whole district, has offered to sponsor it,” the mayor continued. “But of course there’s no guarantee that we’ll get it here. There are other towns in the valley.” The worried woman said: “There are only two big towns in the valley, and the other one already has an arts centre.” “True,” said Mr. Lee. “So in fairness, we SHOULD get it. But, well, you never know.” Mrs. Moon said: “That’s a great idea. An arts centre is just what this town needs to bring it to life.”
May Moon’s book of choices 20 Chapter Four May stepped into the children’s section at the town library—always the first place she looked for when they moved to a new home. “Can I join the library please?” she asked the staff member at the counter. “I’ve just moved to this town. We arrived yesterday.” “Certainly, young lady. We’d be happy to have you,” said the librarian, a young man with a moustache and kind eyes. “You just have to fill in this form.” As she wrote down her name, she saw the man’s eyebrows rise. “So your name’s May Moon?” he asked. “That’s right. Have you heard of me? I was on TV once.” “I didn’t see you on TV, but I have heard of you— just today, funnily enough,” he said. “We have your new book in stock. It arrived this morning. It’s odd: I don’t remember ordering it. Perhaps it’s a free sample sent by the publisher. What a coincidence that your book arrives the same day you do.” May blinked. What new book? She hadn’t written a book lately. She was about to say so, when a thought struck her. She’d gotten a reputation as a money expert for young people, but the lessons she taught came from magic books, which seemed to appear just when she needed them. Could this be another one? She hardly dared hope. Forcing herself to stay calm, she gave the librarian a
SAM JAM 21 happy smile. “Er, my new book’s arrived? Hooray! Could I see it? I haven’t got a copy myself yet.” The librarian stepped into a back room to get it. Less than a minute later, he emerged holding a small book in his hand. “I thought writers always got advance copies of their books from their publishers,” he said. “Maybe they sent a copy to your old address by accident.” The book was similar to the previous volumes. It had her name as part of the title: May Moon’s Book of Choices. No wonder the librarian thought that she had written it. She reached for it. “Can I take this out?” The librarian’s eyebrows came together as he lifted the book out of her reach. “No, sorry. I haven’t catalogued it yet. But I tell you what, I’ll do it as soon as I can, and I’ll reserve it for you. Come back later in the week, maybe Friday, and you can take it out then.” She thanked him, and reluctantly lowered her hands, which were itching to grab it and see what was inside. Was this another magic book, with a different message—a message she would need to help her help Sadtown? * * * That day and the next two days passed quickly. May and her mother found an apartment and moved into it. The girl went to the local school and worked hard at making friends. It was not easy. The problem was not that the other kids were unfriendly. It was just that they seemed tired and unhappy all the time. They simply had no energy to make new friendships. She realized that Sadtown had gotten its name not just because the letters S. A. D. were the initials of South Abbey Downs. It really did seem to have an air of
May Moon’s book of choices 22 unhappiness about it. There was something wrong with the place, but she couldn’t work out what it was. Mrs. Moon, once she had moved her things into her new office at the bank, wrote out a plan about how they could make best use of the new arts centre to bring the community to life. She invited some of the adults over to talk about it. “We could have pantomimes for the smaller children, pop music for the teenagers, and drama for the adults,” she said. “We’d need architects and construction people first, to build it. Then we’d need interior designers and painters and decorators.” “Lots of activity, and plenty of new jobs: that’s what we need,” said the man with baggy eyes, half-smiling for the first time. “Yes,” said the worrying woman, her worry-lines fading from her forehead. “Then when it’s ready we’d need actors and singers and theatre staff. We’d need ushers and ticket sellers and someone to raise the curtain.” Mrs. Moon said: “Hmm. But first there will have to be some investors to pay for all the start-up costs, until the tickets are sold and it starts making money.” As the adults were leaving, May said to her mother: “This is going to make our job easier, right?” “It sure will.” “And I have a feeling that I may soon be able to help, too,” the girl added, thinking of the magic book that would be in her hands by Friday.
SAM JAM 23 Chapter Five On Friday morning, May was waiting at the library at nine o’clock, when the kind-eyed librarian opened the door. “Goodness,” he said. “You ARE keen.” Ten minutes later, she had checked out May Moon’s Book of Choices and run down to the park. She sat on a bench next to an empty playground in which every piece of equipment was broken. Then she closed her eyes, said a quick prayer that this book would be as magical as her earlier ones, and opened the pages. * * * The built-in fairness detector, by Reeder Page, CPA Welcome to an unusual book—a book for young people about the right and wrong of money. To start with, I have a question for you. When someone is unfair to someone you know, do you feel annoyed? Do you feel like saying: “That’s not fair.” Yes? Well, if you do, hold on to that feeling. I don’t mean you should hold on to the feeling of being upset. But try to maintain the ability to instantly tell the difference between right and wrong, and feel something about it. This is something that children can do better than many grown-ups. When something unfair happens, children know immediately. They stamp their feet, shout “that’s not fair” and want it set right. Lots of adults lose this ability, and have to think hard to work out whether something is good or not.
May Moon’s book of choices 24 The ability to instinctively tell the difference between right and wrong is sometimes called natural morality. It seems that we are all born with it. Some people hold on to it all their lives, while others seem to lose it. Is it important? Yes. It’s one of the most important things in the world, as we’ll find out in the next chapter. * * * The book was curious, May decided. It was definitely interesting, but it was very different from the earlier magic books. The illustration on the page showed a man with a fresh face. He looked nice enough, she reckoned, although there was something about his face that made him seem a little crazy. The girl looked around to make sure she was alone. Then she spoke out loud to the picture, with her earlier magic books in mind: “Good morning,” she said. “Are you magic? Are you like Turner Page or his dad, Contents Page?” The illustration did what illustrations normally do. Nothing. “Can you move? Can you speak?” The picture stayed still, just a flat image on a page. She sighed. What a disappointment. “Oh bother! I hoped you’d be magic like Turner.” Still, she could read the book, and perhaps still find out something useful— although the first chapter seemed quite unlike the opening pages of the previous books. “I’m very glad I’m not,” said a voice indignantly. She looked down at the picture. Had it spoken? She gasped. “Are you magic like Turner Page?” she repeated.
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May Moon’s book of choices 26 “Certainly not,” said the illustration, popping up and folding its arms. The tiny figure stood on the page and looked up at the girl. “But you ARE,” said May, delighted. “You are magic.” “You asked if I was magic like Turner Page. The answer to your question is: No, I am not ANYTHING like Turner Page. Noisy youngster. Always playing his guitar and disturbing my afternoon nap. Youngsters these days! I don’t know what the—” “I mean, you are MAGIC,” interrupted May. “My mom and I have a big task ahead of us. We’ve moved to a town with big money problems. And we hope you’ll help us, like your family members helped us before. Are you expert on money, too?” “Me? Certainly not.” May was taken aback. “You’re not? But I thought all of you Pages had the same interest.” “I have no interest at all in that sort of thing,” said Reeder. “I leave that to my brother Contents and his son Turner.” “But why are you here?” asked May. “Are you going to help me with my assignment in Sadtown?” “If macro-economics is what you want advice on, the answer is no. There’s more to life than money, you know. I thought you learned that in book one, May Moon and the Secrets of the CPAs? Now I have to go: it’s time for my mid-morning nap. See you.” He flattened himself, turning back into the illustration, and froze. May was baffled. * * * Before the day was over, the mood of the townsfolk changed again. The mayor entered the bank just before it closed,
SAM JAM 27 and took off his hat. He’d lost the excited look he had had a few days earlier. “I’m sorry to have to break this to you, Mrs. Moon: I made some more enquiries about the new arts centre. It will not be in this town after all.” “Why not?” “I have it from reliable sources that the biggest town in this district, Cashland, a place on the other side of the valley, is expected to get the grant.” “But I thought that town already had an arts centre?” “They do. They have two, in fact.” “So why aren’t we getting the new one?” Mr. Lee looked around for somewhere to sit. They were in Mrs. Moon’s new office at the bank, and it was still very messy, with papers everywhere. She quickly cleared some files and folders off a chair. He sat down. “Thank you. One of the main reasons why our town is so poor is that all the resources from the central government and corporate sponsors tend to go to our neighbours. Cashland is a town run by a rather difficult man. He and his colleagues grab everything.” Mrs. Moon sat down opposite him. “You better tell me the whole story.” “Well, there’s not much to tell—since it’s all a bit of a mystery. Cashland seems to have an endless supply of money,” he said. “They try to buy loyalty. They use it to get their own way all the time. It makes it difficult for the rest of us.” May, who entered the office and heard the last part of the conversation, said: “How do they make all this money? What do they do?” “They don’t seem to make anything, or do anything, so no one knows where the cash originates. If they keep records, they don’t reveal them to anyone.”
May Moon’s book of choices 28 Mrs. Moon said crossly: “But it doesn’t seem fair for them to get another arts centre, when we don’t have one at all.” “That’s right. But the Cashland mayor, a guy called Dr. Isla Grabbit, has persuaded the corporation sponsoring the new arts centre to grant it to the most creative town in the valley.” May put up her hand. “Is it like a competition, then? We could win, I suppose.” Mr. Lee shook his head. “Dr. Grabbit only proposed that because he knew that they would automatically win. Cashland has an arts academy, a music academic, a performing arts school, a huge musical instrument store, and so on. There are already several big-name TV entertainers who came from Cashland.” May’s mother asked: “What about us? Do we have any talent in this town?” The mayor shook his head. “We don’t even have a school band,” he said. “We can’t compete.” Mrs. Moon said: “I think you’re right. It sounds hopeless. Well, never mind. There are sure to be other ways we can improve this town.” May, horrified, piped up: “Wait, wait. You’re not abandoning the contest before it even starts, are you?” The mayor turned to her: “If the grant is being awarded to the best performers, then we’re definitely not going to win, May. Unless you’re secretly the world’s greatest superstar singer in disguise.” It was meant as a joke, but May did not take it as one. She folded her arms crossly. “You’re not defeated until you stop fighting for what you want,” she said. “I’m going to go and talk to the children. We’ll sort it out for you.” She heard the mayor chuckling as she left the room. “Your daughter is very strong-willed,” he said.
SAM JAM 29 “She sure is,” she heard her mother say. May got on the bus to Jeremy’s house, and took out her book to read on the way. * * * Actions don’t have labels, by Reeder Page, CPA Morality is important. Imagine a world where no one knew the difference between good and bad. Robbers could run around free. They could lock up all the police officers in jail. They could take whatever they wanted. And no one could do anything to change it. It would be a terrible place. To avoid becoming like that, it’s vital for communities to recognize that some actions are good and others aren’t. But most schools don’t teach morality; not directly, anyway. Some people learn it from their families, or from faith groups, or from the way people around them behave. We also learn it from movies, television and books. We can learn about morality by tackling questions of ethics. Ethics is a word meaning “issues dealing with right and wrong.” These issues can be fun to think about, rather like tricky puzzles to solve. Actions don’t have labels, so sometimes it’s hard to know whether doing something is right or wrong. I’ll show you what I mean with an example. We all know that stealing is wrong, agreed? But what if you stole a tiny bit of medicine to save someone’s life? Is that a good thing to do or a bad one? Or half and half? It’s a tough question with no easy answer. That’s what makes studying ethics difficult but intriguing. * * * The book was interesting, but May couldn’t work out why her magical book was about right and wrong, instead of being about money. Surely that sort of information wouldn’t be any help
May Moon’s book of choices 30 in the situation they were in? Hard cash was what they needed. She slipped the book into her bag as the bus reached its destination. She found Jeremy in the playground near his house, playing with a tall, skinny girl. “There’s going to be a music contest, and the most creative people in the valley will get the new arts centre,” May said. “I heard about this,” said Jeremy’s friend Denise. She wore tinted glasses and was in May’s class at the new school. “It’s going to be called Valley Idol. My Dad said Cashland is going to win. It’s a town full of singers and musicians and dancers. They even have professional junior pop groups. No one else has a chance of winning.” “But we must be able to do SOMETHING,” May said. There was silence. “I don’t think so,” said Jeremy. “Jacob’s sister Cara can sing,” said Denise. “She’s not bad.” “But she’s just a kid,” said Jeremy. “She doesn’t have a backing band or even a microphone. She just strums a guitar and sings as loud as she can over the top of it. No way could she do a pop concert. It’s not the same.” “Give me her address,” said May. “I’m going to see her. She may be our only chance.” “Okay, if you want to see her, I’ll come with you,” said Jeremy. Denise took out a notebook from her bag. “I’ll do some detective work while you guys are gone,” she said. On the bus, May opened her book again. Jeremy was intrigued, and they read the book together.
SAM JAM 31 * * * Money and morality, by Reeder Page, CPA In ancient times, as humanity spread, most communities developed their ideas about right and wrong—or ethics— through stories. Almost every group of people in the world, whether they live in cities or jungles or deserts or snowfields, have ancient stories designed to teach people about right and wrong. For the first few thousand years of human societies, groups which had these tales had more happiness and less crime, so the stories spread. In more recent centuries, almost every country added a second book, a list of laws, to try to make a very clear division between good deeds and bad deeds. These books are lists of decisions of judges, and are called case laws, statutes or ordinances. Money was invented about 3,000 years ago (you can read about it in the first May Moon book, May Moon and the Secrets of the CPAs) and sparked the growth of its own list of questions about what is right or wrong. Some people blamed money for the growth of crime in society. Others acted as if money could buy happiness. As the years went by, people realized that neither was true. Lots of people have thought about money’s place in our lives, and more books have been written on that subject than almost any other topic. But in the past few years, especially since the financial crisis of 2008 (you can read about this in the second May Moon book, May Moon Rescues the World Economy), it has become clear that yet more wisdom is needed on the rights and wrongs of dealing with money. This area of study is often called business ethics.
May Moon’s book of choices 32 Chapter Six A guitar flew out of a window. May dived out of the way. But Jeremy, who was wearing basketball shoes, leapt up and grabbed it before it hit the ground. “Gotcha! Hey, I always wanted a guitar. I see an opportunity for stardom here.” May said: “I see a sign that someone is in a bad mood.” They went into the building and saw an angry young girl stomping down the stairs. “Is this yours?” Jeremy asked, holding up the guitar. “It was. I don’t need it any more.” She spoke bitterly. “Cool,” said Jeremy, giving the top string a twang. “Give it back to her,” barked May. Jeremy was so surprised at her bossy tone that he immediately did as he was told. Cara was also surprised. She looked at the new girl. “Hey, you’re May, the so-called junior money expert, aren’t you? Some people were talking about you at school.” May curtsied. “May Moon, at your service,” she said. “Maybe you can help me,” Cara said. “Money’s my problem.” They strolled outside and sat on a bench in the dilapidated playground outside Cara’s home. Cara explained that she had entered every musical contest and talent show in the valley for the past four years. But singers and duos and bands from Cashland won the top prize every time. “They’re good singers, but I’m not bad. I’m as good or better than some of
SAM JAM 33
May Moon’s book of choices 34 them. Yet they always win, because they have so many advantages. They have professional musicians teaching them, they have their own private rehearsal studios, and they have the latest gear—guitars, drums, synthesizers, everything.” “Too bad,” said May. “It’s worse than bad,” said Cara. “It’s horrible. This morning I heard about the Valley Idol contest, and I called Fabiana, one of the Cashland kids, to see if they were entering.” “I bet they are,” said Jeremy. Cara nodded. “Not only are they determined to win, but their dads have hired a real live pop star to come along and train them.” “Who is it?” May and Jeremy asked together. “Cool Baby IceMan, the rap singer.” There was silence. “Is he famous?” May asked eventually. “He’s MEGA-famous, if you know anything about modern music,” Cara said. “He has his own TV show. With him behind the Cashland kids, no one else has any chance.” May thought for a while. “Maybe the judges will prefer you and your guitar, instead of a group trained by a flashy pop star. You never know.” Cara looked skeptical. “It’s SO not fair. I saved up for a year to buy a simple guitar and a tambourine. But even the youngest kids from Cashland get synthesizers, electric guitars, electronic drum pads, music computers—all that fancy stuff.” Jeremy raised his hands to get their attention. “Ladies,” he said. “If you want my opinion, I would say that music is not about having expensive machines. It’s about, well, music,” he finished rather lamely.
SAM JAM 35 “That’s true,” said Cara. “But you try to get an audience bopping to a tambourine when your rival has got the latest, fully-programmed electronic drum kit.” Jeremy put one hand on Cara’s shoulder and looked her in the eye. “Cara,” he said. “Be cool. May and Jeremy are on the job. We’ll fix it, okay?” “Er, yeah, sure,” said May, wishing she sounded as confident as her new friend. “We’ll do something about it.” The boy said: “Meet us at May’s apartment, the one over the bank, after school. Five o’clock, okay? We’ll have a plan by then.” “Deal.” On the way home, May and Jeremy sat on the bus and read the next few pages of May Moon’s Book of Choices. * * * Business basics, by Reeder Page, CPA If you want to be successful in business, you have to start off by creating something that is worth something to someone. You can’t get real value out of any system, unless you’ve put real value into it first. So let’s say you’ve put together some good ingredients, like flour and sugar and chocolate, and a recipe and a kitchen and a shop and staff. With all these things, you make a cookie store. Experts will work out the value of your business, and you can let people buy a share of it, and you can use that money to set up more branches of the store. If you look at the financial pages of newspapers, you would think that business was all about numbers. There are pages and pages of lists of figures, most in tiny print. They represent the value of shares of companies such as your cookie store. When a stock market crash happens, most of these numbers suddenly get smaller. The amount of money in the
May Moon’s book of choices 36 system shrinks. People lose their savings. Bosses cannot pay workers, so workers lose their jobs. Unhappiness spreads. * * * The role of experts, by Reeder Page, CPA But where does the money go in a financial crash? Who took it away? Where is it now? In fact, it hasn’t gone anywhere. The money was just an estimate of what people thought companies were worth. For example, a toy company making a popular robot could be worth a lot of money. But its estimated value would fall if the toy went out of fashion. If lots of prices fall at once, we call it a crash. Is anyone to blame? We hope not. People in the financial business are just like people in any other job, like teachers or police officers or fire fighters: most of them work hard at doing their job as well as they can. But in any job, people sometimes slip. These experts may get lazy, or they may be tempted to cheat or make other bad choices. That’s where business ethics comes in. This is the name for a group of guidelines which help people do the right thing in every situation. We can think of it as a system for making sure everyone PLAYS FAIR. * * * Cara arrived at May’s home bang on time. “Did you get me some music gear?” Cara asked. “Er, no,” Jeremy replied. “You promised!” she complained. “Actually, we promised we’d try to sort out the problem. That’s not the same as getting you loads of expensive gear.”
SAM JAM 37 “You’re a phony, Jeremy.” May looked up from her book. “Here’s an important money principle: you can’t get real value out of any system, unless you’ve put real value into it first.” “What does that mean?” asked Cara. “And what’s it got to do with me or music?” May’s mother and her friend Sammi Yeung, who had overheard the conversation, stepped into the room from the kitchen. “Let me explain that one,” said Sammi. “When May’s mother and I were students studying accountancy, I used to cook horrible frozen dinners from the supermarket freezer. But then May’s mother, who was my flat-mate, taught me something important about cooking. If you start off by putting in really good ingredients, like fresh meat and fresh vegetables, it’s really hard to ruin it.” “But you still manage it sometimes,” Mrs. Moon teased. “You’re spoiling my analogy,” said Sammi, laughing. Cara looked baffled. “I don’t know what any of that has to do with music,” she said. Sammi Yeung said, “Quality in means quality out. Cara, you’ve spent two years writing and singing songs. Your values are those of a real singer-songwriter. You’ve got good songs, and a strong voice—a voice which is powerful, because you’ve never been able to afford a microphone or amplifier.” Mrs. Moon added: “The Cashland kids may have bought fancy drum machines and synthesizers. But they’re just pressing buttons and producing prepackaged synthesized sounds. You’re delivering genuine musical talent.” “Hey, what are you doing?” said Cara, as Jeremy picked up her guitar and placed it in her hands. “I’m giving you your guitar so that you can get ready
May Moon’s book of choices 38 to perform something for us, and I’m setting up my video camera. You’re going to sing for your supper, Cara.” Mrs. Moon laughed. “Good idea. Sing us a good song and you can stay for dinner.” The food smelled delicious. Cara opened her mouth and started to sing. May tapped her foot to the rhythm of the song, but couldn’t help stealing a glance at the next chapter of her book. * * * The importance of integrity, by Reeder Page, CPA Most people have some savings. You may have cash in a piggy bank. Or perhaps you have a savings account in a bank. Or maybe you have a savings book, and can check regularly when the amount goes up. Money doesn’t stay still. The prices of the toys or clothes or discs you want to buy go up and down. The money in your bank account can go up and down too, even if you don’t spend any of it, thanks to interest rates, bank charges and so on. For this reason, most people with a lot of savings eventually need experts to help them manage their money. What’s the most important thing about choosing the right expert to help you? Do you choose someone with the same colour shirt as yours or someone who likes the same pop group? Or do you just choose someone randomly from a list of phone numbers? No. You choose carefully, and make sure you find someone you trust. The most important thing is that the expert is truthful, knows what he or she is doing, works hard, and does the right thing all the time. When a person is like this, we say he or she has integrity. You know you can depend on that person. Accountants are experts in all areas of handling money. Most of the time, it’s other people’s money. For this reason, accountants spend a lot of time thinking
SAM JAM 39 about integrity, business ethics and organizing things so that financial systems are as fair as possible. Integrity is invisible. It cannot be touched or weighed or canned. But it is one of the most important things a person or a group of people can have.
May Moon’s book of choices 40 Chapter Seven On a Tuesday evening the following week, the sound of raised voices and jangling guitars could be heard coming from the school hall. The Sadtown youngsters had formed a new band called Cara and the Castaways. Cara sang and played guitar, Jeremy played the piano, May beat the tambourine and sang harmonies, and a group of younger kids from the next apartment did a dance they had made up. “Performing is fun,” said May. “If the audiences have half as much fun as we’re having, we’re going to have a hit show.” * * * Loopholes, by Reeder Page, CPA Some business people confuse ethics with laws. They are not the same. Sometimes they can be opposites. (This was explored in May Moon Rescues the World Economy.) For example, lawyers agree that the spirit of the law is to make rules which help society. Many think of themselves as problem solvers, and they benefit society by solving disputes and debating rights and wrongs in courtrooms. But some business people have lawyers whose main job is to find gaps in the law, called loopholes. The result can sometimes be that their bosses benefit while the community loses. In recent years, people have been looking for ways to bridge the gap between natural justice, which belongs to all of us, and the sort of legal judgments that feel like the opposite, that feel unfair. * * *
SAM JAM 41 May sat in bed with her magic book. “Mr. Page, what do you think? Last week people wanted to abandon the idea of trying to get a new arts centre. But I persuaded everyone that we should enter the contest and win it. So that we get the new arts centre and everyone around here becomes happier. Isn’t that a good idea?” The man with the crazy look popped out of the illustration. “Good? Good? I think it’s a terrible idea.” May was taken aback. “Why? I thought you’d be pleased that we’re not giving up. We COULD win the competition.” He sighed and folded his arms. “Look here, May. Having a go is a good thing. But you should never try to get what you want through chance—especially when the odds are stacked so heavily against you. Contests are highly unpredictable. They are almost as bad as games of chance.” “You mean gambling?” “That’s right. You probably won’t be the best people in the show. And even if you perform wonderfully well, there’s no guarantee that the judges will like you best. It’s all subjective. That means it’s a matter of choice on the part of the judges.” “So what do you think we should do?” “If you really, really want something, don’t set your heart on winning it. Earn it. That’s the only safe way to go.” * * * May was shocked that the host of the magic book was not supporting them. But when she thought it over, she realized that he was probably right. If they depended on winning the contest to improve the town, there was a chance, and
May Moon’s book of choices 42 probably a big chance, that they would fail. But if they worked to fix the town themselves, it would be hard work—but at least they would be guaranteed to achieve some sort of positive result. She went to the playground to meet the other kids. “Hey, guys, as well as practising for the contest, let’s make sure we do other things to bring this town to life.” “Like what?” Jeremy asked. “Well, we could see if we could get one of the farms working again. That could be fun. I’ve always wanted to work on a farm.” Denise said: “My dad’s a farmer. Or at least he used to be. We could talk to him. He’d tell us if there was anything we could do.” Ten minutes later, the three children were at Denise’s house, listening to her father Ah-Lum. “The ponds used to be full of fresh water,” he said. “They were perfect for irrigating the farmland. But no more.” He sighed, stood up and walked to the window. “Look at it now. It’s just a mosquito-infested swamp. It would cost millions of dollars to clear it.” Jeremy turned to May. “I was going to offer my pocket money, but I don’t think it will be enough.” May didn’t reply. She was staring at the newspaper that Denise’s father had been reading. “Look at this,” she said. They gathered around. The headline said: “Valley Town Splurges on Art.” The article reported that the Cashland council was spending millions of dollars to commission artists in their town to create sculptures and paintings to decorate the streets. The report included an interview with the mayor of Cashland, Dr. Isla Grabbit. “We’ve always been the most creative city
SAM JAM 43 in the country,” he said. “Now we want to be the most creative city in the world.” Jeremy asked: “Millions of dollars? Where did they get that money?” Denise’s dad strolled over to the table. “Dr. Grabbit never reveals anything about where his city gets its cash,” he said. “He has secret investments and secret bank accounts all over the place.” “Isn’t that unethical?” May asked. The old farmer nodded yes. “I keep my pocket money in a piggy bank hidden in my bedroom,” said Jeremy. “Is that unethical?” “Not unless you tell lies about it,” said Denise’s dad. “Dr. Grabbit is being unethical because he hides money so the tax collectors don’t know about it. He doesn’t want to contribute his fair share to the town.” * * * Secrets and lies, by Reeder Page, CPA All children know that sometimes you own things yourself, and sometimes you share ownership of things with other people. If your parents give you new clothes, those belong to you. But if they buy a computer for the family, then the whole family shares it. When it comes to things which have value, a lot of grown-ups don’t like to share what they have. For example, when they earn money, they don’t want to pay taxes to the government to pay for the services the government provides to all citizens. They don’t want anyone to ask them to share their property. If you ask them for information, they will claim that they have a right to privacy. And perhaps they are right. For many people, privacy is important. Let’s put our ethics hat on and ask a question. What’s right and what’s wrong in this situation?
May Moon’s book of choices 44
SAM JAM 45 Smart people have taken many years to think about this. They have made legal lists of things which are private, and so can be kept secret. And they have made lists of things which are not private, and must not be kept secret. This prevents people from being tempted to tell lies and hide the truth. They can make the correct choice between right and wrong. For example, if you don’t want to tell your friends how much money you earn (if you are a grown-up) or how much pocket money you get (if you are a child), you don’t have to. That’s private. But if the government is building a new hospital, and asks everyone to pay a tax of 1 percent of their earnings to cover the cost, then people have to be honest and pay their share. You can’t tell lies to evade paying taxes. * * * On the bus back into the centre of town, May and Jeremy scanned the magic book, determined to find answers. “Mr. Page,” she said to the picture in the book. “You’re not like Turner Page or his father Contents Page at all, I agree.” “Quite right,” said the illustration in the book, popping up and smiling. “I see you now understand that. I talk in riddles, rather than offer black and white solutions.” “Can you tell us something that will help us fix a farm?” May asked. “Two things grow as rapidly as young love,” said Mr. Page, crossing his hands over his heart. “A compound savings account and a Spirodella plant.” He winked at Jeremy and smiled at May. Jeremy blushed and moved a centimetre away from his companion. May just blinked at the figure on the page. “What on earth are you talking about?”
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