Authors: Liz Botts
News Flash (8 page)
“Perfect,” Mary Beth echoed. “We're going to have a barn dance instead of a prom.”
The fun just kept coming with Mary Beth. When we got back to school she announced that we were all expected to attend Farmingham Academy's prom the next night. In her words, it was mandatory.
I was still fuming when I got to work that afternoon. Even sitting down at my own desk didn't take away the irritation, at least not entirely. There was a note from Marika sitting on the pristine space. I realized that it was an assignment. I felt the bubble of annoyance that had been building all day ready to pop. Grabbing the note, I stormed over to the internship coordinator.
“I thought I got to determine my own stories,” I said in a snarky tone as I clutched her note in my sweaty hand.
Marika barely glanced up from her laptop. “You get to pitch your own stories, and if I approve them, that's fine, but you haven't given me any reason to do that yet. So this is your first on camera story. Honestly, Allison, I don't know why you're complaining. This is a great little piece. Now run along and get ready.”
I knew when I had been dismissed, and I turned away from the cubicle, deflated. She was right, or course. I didn't really have a leg to stand on. I was lucky to have gotten the on camera spot, and I didn't want to blow it before I got a chance to start.
“Hey, Beautiful, ready for your big debut?” Rory popped up beside me. When my response lacked gusto, he said, “Hey, what's wrong?”
I shook my head. “I don't know. Stuff at school. Nothing. Listen I can't go out with you tomorrow night.”
Now it was Rory's turn to frown. “What do you mean? I've got the whole night planned. It's going to be awesome.”
“Yeah, well, awesome or not, I have to go to prom tomorrow night.”
“What? You're ditching me, and a great date, for prom?” Rory's frown deepened, his forehead crinkling as he leaned back against my desk.
He looked so cute that I had to smile. “It's for one of my classes. I have to go because if I don't I might not pass the class, and I need to pass this stupid class to graduate. Look, I'm really sorry. You know I wanted to go, andâ“
“I'll go with you.”
“What?” I stared at Rory in disbelief.
He nodded. “I'm serious. I'll go with you. Who knows, it could be fun, right?”
“Um, maybe? You don't have to do this, Rory. Seriously.”
“I want to. Listen. Good luck today. You'll be great, but you need to hurry. Your cameraman is waiting for you.” Rory patted my hand, which was all the PDA we felt comfortable risking at work. I sure didn't need a human resource complaint form going into my file.
No one had advised me on what I needed to take with me. Rory assured me that the two man crew going with me would have the equipment, and all I needed to do was have some killer questions. Considering that I'd had no time to prepare, my nerves were at an all-time high. On the elevator ride down to the ground floor, I rifled through the file that Marika had left on my desk. There wasn't much information in it minus the pertinent details.
When we got out of the building, I looked at Steve, the cameraman. “So, um, how do we get there? I mean, do we get to take the news van or something?”
Steve laughed, but not in a mean way. “We could. It's pretty nice out, though, so why don't we walk? I checked the address, and it's only a few blocks away. That way if you decide that you want to interview anyone along the way, it'll be easier to set up.”
Appreciation washed over me. Rory had been right. My crew wasn't going to let me down. I could do this. I repeated my mantra to myself as we started toward our destination. Steve had been right; the day was nice for early April. A warm breeze blew in from the southwest, bringing with it the slightly fishy smell from the river. Since it was still early afternoon, the sidewalks downtown weren't crowded, and because my piece wasn't essential news, we had no rush.
When we got to the bakery where we were shooting the spot, I took a minute to review the hastily scrawled notes I had made. I could barely read my own handwriting. Still there was enough there that I wasn't going in blind. Mr. Fisher always insisted that a journalist had to be prepared. Going into any story without some information made the reporter look bad, besides it was disrespectful.
“Ready to do this, kiddo?” Steve asked as he held the door open for me.
I nodded, my heart suddenly hammering in my throat. The inside of the bakery was warm with delicious sweet, yeasty smells filling the air. My stomach grumbled, and I decided to buy treats for me and the crew after the segment was over. There were several small white wrought iron tables and chairs scattered throughout the space, along with a bright blue sofa in one corner.
Behind the counter there was a grandmotherly looking woman, her white hair pulled back in a bun and secured with a hairnet. She wore a bright pink apron with a winking owl on the front. I liked her immediately. As I approached the counter, she caught sight of me, and a smile lit her face. She adjusted her glasses as she waited for me to approach.
“Edna Eubanks?”
“That's me.” Her smile widened.
“I'm Allison Jones from Channel Eight news. Are you ready to do our interview?” I shook her hand, hoping she wouldn't notice how young I was.
“Absolutely. Where would you like to set up?” Edna smoothed her apron, and patted some imaginary stray hairs back into place.
“Um, how about over on the sofa?” I nodded to Steve and the sound guy, Barry. The two of them both went over, and began moving tables so they could position the camera. I surveyed the surreal scene one more time before turning back to Edna. “I really like the way the light comes in through the windows. Natural light is so important to a good shot.”
“I'm sure it is,” Edna agreed, not seeming to notice that I was babbling. “I'm just so excited to get the word out about Edna's Eats. I really appreciate you doing this.”
Her words humbled me, stopping me in my tracks. I hadn't thought about the benefit to the person I was doing this for, just for what I got out of it. That must have been the problem with my first batch of ideas. None of them were truly going to make a difference, so how could they be newsworthy? I'd read Edna's mission statement in the file, and the woman had a vision. She'd seen a problem, and had created a way to fix it. My throat felt dry, and I was having trouble swallowing.
“Can I have a drink of water?” I croaked.
“Of course, where are my manners?” Edna clucked. “Ask your camera crew if they'd like anything too.”
The water washed away the stuck feeling in the back of my throat, but not the slightly sour taste in my mouth that came from my own selfishness. I had a chance to change the world, just like Mr. Fisher was always waxing poetic about in class. I could not screw this up.
When we were seated Steve handed me the microphone and checked the lighting. Edna looked like the perfect grandmother taking time away from her mountains of baking to talk to a young friend, to impart her wisdom. The audience was going to love her. I had to admit that Marika had chosen well. I'd have to tell her that when we got back to the studio.
“And we're rolling in three, two, one.” Steve counted us down.
“I'm Allison Jones, and I'm sitting here with Edna Eubanks from the new bakery and deli, Edna's Eats. Edna, could you tell us what makes your bakery special?” I tipped the microphone toward her.
“Well now. It's special to me, of course, because it's my very first business. But more than that it serves a need in community that hasn't been fulfilled until now.”
“And what's that?” I prompted.
Edna smiled, and glanced around the bakery with fondness. “We feed the hungry in a way that doesn't take away their dignity.”
I knew that that would be Channel Eight's sound bite for the story, maybe even for the whole lead in. Edna sounded convicted but serene. She had authority based out of love. I really liked her. She was totally different from any of the people I had proposed, but she was perfect.
“Can you tell our viewers how Edna's Eats operates?” As I angled the microphone back in her direction, I quickly glanced at the notes in my lap.
“Well, we have a simple menu based on local ingredients. We offer two sandwiches and two soups daily, as well as a full service bakery menu. So when someone comes in who can pay full price, we give them the option of paying for a second meal for someone less fortunate. If someone comes in who can't pay full price or who can't pay at all, we have a spot on the order ticket for them to circle what they can pay. It's all very discreet.” Edna paused, and smoothed her apron again. “The bakery items work the same way. We aren't here to judge people's food choices, only to fill up their bellies.”
Edna and I finished our interview, and while Steve and Barry packed up the equipment I laid out twenty dollars for cupcakes to take back to the office with me. I put another ten down on the counter too. “Use it for whoever needs it.”
Jake would have devoured everything in sight if I had brought him here. He had such a huge sweet tooth it was a running joke between our two families. When we were really little he'd get into the bags of sugar at either house, and eat it by the fistful. Often he ended up vomiting after he snarfed it down, which had always deterred me from joining him in the practice. Just thinking about my best friend made my heart hurt. Our dance earlier had messed with my head, and I still hadn't had time to sort it all out. Right before we left, I hurried back to the counter and bought Jake a monster garbage cookie. It might not make everything right between us but it would be a good start.
****
Marika was talking to Chloe when I got back. The look on Chloe's face reminded me of the way I always felt when the internship coordinator cornered me. With a grimace, Chloe nodded and headed back toward the file room. My jaw went slack as I realized she'd been given my old job. I'd never wanted Chloe to get a demotion. She'd been my only friend around the station for months. A bite of guilt pinched my stomach, and I almost turned around.
Instead I stepped into Marika's cubicle, and cleared my throat. She glanced at me with one eyebrow raised but didn't say anything. “So, thanks for sending me to meet Edna Eubanks. She's an amazing woman.”
The ghost of a smile flitted across Marika's face. “I know. She's my grandmother.”
“She's your grandmother? Wow, you must be so proud of her. I can't believe how muchâ¦
joie de vivre s
he's got. I mean, she kind of reminds me of my grandma in a lot of ways. I'm just so impressed with the work she's doing.” I knew I was babbling, but I couldn't stop myself.
“She's an amazing woman, and her business deserves to be highlighted.” Marika paused to glance up at me from her laptop. “Those are the kinds of stories you should be doing.”
I nodded. “You are absolutely right. There have to be dozens of people just down the street who deserve to be showcased for the work they are doing. Thank you for sending me to Edna. It was perfect.”
The surprise on Marika's face couldn't be masked fast enough. Her eyebrows nearly shot off her forehead. We stood staring at each other for a few moments before Marika regained control of her features, and the mask slammed back down.
“You should start your editing. Rory will help you out today, but in the future you'll be expected to do it on your own, so pay attention.” With that Marika dismissed me.
After Rory showed me how to cut down the raw footage and edit together a cohesive program, he leaned in to kiss me gently on the lips. He tasted faintly of beer again, and I wondered if he'd had one with lunch. It was sort of gross. Still, it was nice to have a boyfriend that wanted to kiss me, and to come to stupid fake proms with me.
“I'll call you later,” he said, as I packed up my stuff for the weekend.
****
“Allison!”
“Jake? What are you doing here? Is something wrong at home?” Panic gripped me as all the worst case scenarios swam through my head.
“Calm down. Nothing's wrong. I was on my way to the river court so I thought I'd wait for you; see if you wanted to go with me.” He shrugged his massive shoulders in a move that looked almost graceful. Then he ran a hand through those barely there curls, and looked sort of embarrassed that he was there.
I dug the cookie out of my bag, and handed it to him. “I got you this earlier. There's an amazing new bakery that we'll need to try soon. I'd love to go to the river court.”
Jake unwrapped the cookie, and took a big bite. “This is so good.” He groaned in appreciation as we started to walk. The afternoon had turned chilly, and the sidewalks were thick with people heading home from work. Jake kept his basketball snug under one arm, while he used his other to guide me through the throng. My backpack started to feel heavy with each block we walked, and just as we got to the bridge Jake reached over and took it for me. He slung it over his shoulder.
We paused mid-way across the bridge to make a wish like we'd been doing for years. These small moments felt good, safe, right. They were being whisked away into the past all too quickly. As excited as I was to meet my future, I wasn't ready to give up all of this just yet. I wished there was a way to put those feelings into words.
I glanced up at Jake and just watched him as he stared out at the tumbling blue-gray river rushing beneath us. He looked so serious that I had to wonder again what had been going on with him these past few months. I knew it made me a lousy friend for not asking, but there was that word block again.
“What'd you wish for?” I bumped him with my shoulder.
“If I tell you then it won't come true,” Jake said with a wink. He gave me a crooked half smile that reminded me a lot more of my old buddy, than this new, serious, hulking guy in his place. “Now, come on, let's go. I have to be home by ten tonight.”
“First of all, you expect me to watch you play ball until ten? And second, why such an early curfew?” We started walking again.
Jake shrugged again. “Naw, I figured I'd play for a bit, and then we could get something to eat. And early curfew because of that prom we have to go to tomorrow night. I kind of had to work out a deal with my mom. If I come home early tonight I can stay out late tomorrow.”
“Ugh, I'd forgotten about that travesty. It's not like I even have anything to wear. I didn't want to attend our prom, so why would I want to attend some lame private school's instead?” My litany of complaints only made the grin on Jake's face widen.
“Speaking of that, though, I was thinking that we should go together.”
“Like a double date? I don't know, Jay, I am really not sure I can handle hanging out with Mary Beth that long. You have fun with her. Don't worry about me, a guy from work is coming as myâ¦date.”
Jake's smile fell, and for a moment I worried that I had hurt his feelings. Then he shook his head, and said, “No, we should go together. We aren't going to have much longer to do stupid stuff like this together. So what do you say? Deal with Mary Beth for me? Just for the night? And I'll deal with your bozo.”
“Rory's not a bozo,” I said, but laughed despite myself. “Fine. But don't expect me to have fun.”
“Wouldn't dream of it,” Jake replied as we walked down the gently sloping hill that led to the river court. He dropped my backpack by one of the picnic tables, and shot a three pointer from the side. The ball hit the rim, and clattered loudly through the metal hoop.
I hopped up onto the picnic table, and wrapped my thick pea coat tighter. The wind had picked up more now, and the April chill had definitely come back. Jake and I were the only ones at the court, but I knew some of the other guys would show up later. Sophomore and Junior years I had spent hours every day sitting here, and watching the guys practice. This past basketball season, though, I had stayed away, telling myself that it was good for Jake and I to have our separate interests. As Jake went through a series of lay-ups, I wasn't at all sure that I had made the right choice.
Something in the way Jake's feet hammered the pavement, and in the intensity with which he shot the ball, told me that there was some pretty deep, chaotic emotions rolling through him. The thought occurred to me yet again that I should just ask him about it, but the words refused to form, so I did the next best thing.
I jumped down off the picnic table and ran on to the court. “Let's play HORSE like we used to.”
“You sure?” Jake grabbed the ball mid-bounce.
“Definitely.” As he passed me the ball, the smile that stretched across Jake's face told me that I'd made exactly the right choice.
