Authors: Rene Gutteridge
“Look,” Hugo said, interrupting his own thoughts, “we’re going to have to do something to really spice up tonight’s broadcast. I want you to add the word ‘controversial’ to your report, Ray.”
“Controversial?” Ray asked. “What’s controversial about it?”
Hugo said, “It involves a news station, right? By promoting this as controversial, we’ll have two hooks for tonight and an edge on the rest of the stations.”
Ray fell silent. Hugo looked at Chad for any signs of approval. But Chad just stared at the table, lost in deep thought. Hugo continued. “Also, tonight, we’re going to be continuing our segment ‘Five Diseases You Can Catch from Your Toothbrush.’”
“What’s the kicker?” Chad asked, referring to the lighthearted story they scheduled for every broadcast.
“We’re doing a piece on the reopening of the downtown library.”
Chad nodded his approval.
“So,” Hugo said, “I want a lot of images, I want a lot of sound bites. Let’s really paint a picture of how devastating this explosion could have been, okay?”
Suddenly Hayden raised her hand. Everyone looked at her, which was the only reason Hugo noticed she had done so. She normally stood quietly in the corner and took notes.
“Yes?” Hugo asked. Chad looked like he’d never seen her before.
“Why don’t we report on how many people made it out alive? It’s amazing that only one person was seriously injured.”
Hugo tried not to be reactive. In a considerate tone, he said, “We will have one of the anchors mention that when we close out the segment.”
“But,” Hayden said, as Hugo was about to go on to other business, “surely there are plenty of miraculous stories to fill up an entire news segment.”
“Lady, we’ll let that TBN station handle the miraculous stories, okay?” Chad stood. “Now, I’ve got to go put out some fires. I trust you
all will deliver tonight.” He grabbed his notebook and walked out the door. Hugo glanced at Hayden, who looked disappointed. But what could he do? Sooner or later she was going to have to figure out what kind of business they were running, and it wasn’t the “good news” business.
“All right,” Hugo said, “let’s get out there and do our thing. Remember, dive deep, folks. I want every angle covered. Leave no stone unturned. I want to know everything there is to know and more. Got it?”
The crowd dispersed, and Hugo Talley sat alone in the conference room, wondering if this was his last night at work.
R
ay stood with his cup of coffee and watched Jill gab it up with their co-workers. He’d blown enough heavy sighs to cool off the coffee he would never drink, which was unfortunate because the only thing a cup of coffee was good for in his world was to warm his hands and give him an excuse to wander around.
It had been an hour since the production meeting, and Ray was as furious as if it had just happened. Proof that he should be covering the sewage story was the fact that Jill was still hanging around the station. Ray would’ve been out the door immediately, digging up as much information as he could.
That was the difference between a good reporter and a great reporter. A good reporter gets the facts. Great reporters get the facts
and
the truth. As far as Ray was concerned, that was a big difference.
He’d known Jill for about two years, since she left Channel 10 to come work for more pay and less prestige. She’d been a weekend reporter there and felt she could climb the ranks at Channel 7, which she had.
She was tough competition for Ray. She had beauty, brains, and quite a bit of poise in front of the camera. And like Ray, she had no ambitions to be an anchor. She’d once told him it would be “beneath her.” Ray never thought it would be beneath him—it was higher pay for a whole lot less work. Many reporters worked their whole careers for the anchor desk. But Ray liked the thrill of going out to find the clues, like a detective. He’d caught politicians lying on camera. He’d once gotten a criminal to confess, and later the confession was used to put the guy behind bars.
Jill, on the other hand, had her two “eyewitnesses” and wasn’t worried about finding anything else. Her delivery of the news was near perfect,
but she never worked hard to get “beneath” the facts, where the real story was almost always found. There were so many unanswered questions to this catastrophe, and Hugo wanted to leave the reporting up to Jill and Trent?
“Sorry about today,” said a voice. Ray looked up to see Jill walking toward him. She smiled and, as she came to a stop, tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It’s not personal.”
“I didn’t take it personally,” Ray lied.
Her eyes narrowed a bit. “Sometimes, Ray, you have to fight for what you want.”
“Uh…I did fight,” he pointed out.
“I’m talking about things you
really
want.” She touched his shoulder and walked off.
“Okay…” Ray said, shaking his head. He watched Trent race by with notes in his hand.
The kid had heart but not a lot of poise or self-confidence. He normally stumbled through his reports, glancing down several times at his notes. When Trent looked into the camera, he appeared frightened that his next word might be the beginning of the end for him.
Ray dumped his coffee and headed back to his desk. Why was he still hanging around? After all, he had a story to cover. Maybe he should set up a camera and shoot himself at his desk, rubbing the wound on his forehead and looking pathetic.
He noticed Roarke at the assignment desk, headphones on, listening to whatever he listened to all day. Ray was worried about him. Roarke had been quiet all afternoon, and though he acknowledged Ray, he wasn’t himself. But Ray knew work wasn’t the place to talk about it. Things could wait.
Then he saw her. She headed toward him. Ray’s heart beat like it weighed more than he did, and strangely, his limbs felt numb.
She smiled while several feet away and made direct eye contact with him as she approached.
“Hi, Ray,” she said.
“Hi…hi there, Hayden.” Ray tried to casually stick his hand in the pocket of his pants, but missed and ended up stabbing his buttock. He slid his hands behind his back and clasped them there for safekeeping. “How are you?”
“Fine. Busy. It’s kind of exciting, though, you know? Sweeps week and all that. I’ve never been in this kind of environment before. It’s pretty fun.”
Ray had never heard one of Hugo’s assistants describe her job as fun.
“Hugo wanted me to tell you that whatever you do, he does not want you interviewing Mr. Green. He said there are plenty of angles to this story, and he suggested interviewing the police captain.”
Ray groaned. He hated the police captain. Captain Wynn’s obvious use of teeth whiteners did little to enhance his image of a man tough on crime. How could he be out chasing criminals when he was always available for the camera?
“What?” Hayden asked.
Ray glanced at her. “Nothing. It’s just going to be a long day.”
“I know what you mean. My feet already hurt!”
Feet…feet, think quick on your feet, man! With his hands still clasped behind his back, Ray said, “Well, you probably need a break.”
“Oh, I wish I had time. Hugo’s got me running all over the place.”
“Yes, but it’s been scientifically proven that workers are more productive if they take at least two fifteen-minute breaks a day. So you’re really doing Hugo a favor.”
Hayden grinned. “I didn’t know that.”
“What do you say we…get some coffee?”
“Sure. But I don’t really drink coffee.”
“Me either—” Ray stopped. “I mean, I do. Sometimes. I sip it, just a little, for the flavor but not the effect, you know?”
Hayden didn’t look like she knew.
He gestured toward the break room. The precision of that gesture was remarkable, too, considering that his body was shaking so badly it felt like he was being electrocuted.
He followed closely—not so closely as to look like a stalker but close enough to keep her moving in the right direction. The last thing he needed was to run into Sam. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide his intentions behind a guilt-free expression.
Hayden opened the door to the break room. Out came Sam, holding his gigantic mug of steaming coffee and looking at the two of them like they were some sort of meteorological phenomenon.
“Well, hello,” he said, his eyelids drooping with menace. He made a point to look at Ray and grin like he held Ray’s darkest secret between his perfectly straight teeth.
“Hi, Sam,” Hayden said. “We’re just going on break. You want to join us?” Sam stared at Ray a second longer, just to make some idiotic point, then looked at Hayden. “I would love to, but we have a blizzard moving into the northwest. People’s lives depend on the accuracy of my report.”
Ray let out a laugh, and Hayden glanced at him as if he were being rude. Ray stopped smiling. “Well then you’d better go,” Ray said. Sam moved past him, and Ray couldn’t stop himself. Wasn’t the war already started? “And Sam, remember what Hugo said about drinking that much coffee before a broadcast.”
“Does it make you jittery?” Hayden asked Sam.
Sam cut his eyes to Ray, daring him. And Ray accepted the dare. “Actually, one time Sam drank so much coffee before a broadcast that he had to cut his segment short so he could make it to the rest room on time.”
Sam’s lips pressed together as he tried to hold on to his cool expression. “Ray isn’t really telling the whole story. I happened to have a bladder infection at the time, unbeknownst to me.”
Ray smiled. Sam had actually said “bladder,” “infection,” and “unbeknownst” all in one sentence. Hayden looked grossed out. Ray wanted to pump his arm with satisfaction, but instead he simply let Sam’s words hang in the air for everyone to carefully dissect.
“Well,” Ray said, after letting at least five seconds of awkward silence pass, “as much as we’d love to hear more about that, I think we’re going to go on break.”
Sam turned without another word, and Ray followed Hayden into the break room.
“You do drink coffee?” Hayden asked.
“Uh…well, yeah. Sometimes. It’s complicated.”
“Do you want some now?”
Ray’s fingers were fumbling all over themselves suddenly, so he figured it would give him something to do. “Sure.” He went over to the pot while Hayden sat at one of the break tables. “So you’re enjoying working here?”
“I am,” she said. “Though I do worry about Hugo. He really is a ball of stress, isn’t he?”
Ray poured his coffee, careful not to spill it. “It’s interesting you would say that. Most people think of Hugo as one of the calmest people they know. I mean, he had a little episode yesterday, but normally he’s very serene.”
Hayden pointed to her
eyes.
“It’s all here. He may seem serene, but on the inside, I don’t think he is. I’m going to start praying for him.”
Ray shook a cream packet and ripped it open. “So where do you go to church?”
“A little church on Eighth Street called Christ Our Lord.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It was difficult finding a church when my parents passed away. Our whole family had gone to the same church for generations. But when we all moved away, we had to find a new place. It was like trying to find a new family.”
“I’m sorry your parents died. How long ago was that?”
“A few years. It was the saddest day of my life. But God has taken me to places I never thought I’d go. I once worked at Kinko’s. It’s a copy shop.”
“I know it,” Ray smiled.
“That was an amazing lesson in customer service. I never knew how difficult making copies could be. I also worked as a waitress. And before that, as a candy striper, just for the experience. I really liked that job. I graduated from college with a business degree but had trouble finding a job. Was endlessly employed before, then graduated and couldn’t find work!” She laughed. “My sister thought I should sign up for a temp agency, and that’s how I landed this job, which isn’t unlike the job I did for my parent’s business. Out of all my jobs, I’ve felt the most comfortable here.”
“I’m glad,” Ray said, sitting down. “I hope we’ve all made you feel comfortable.” He grinned, hoping she knew that by “all” he meant
him.
“Sure. Everyone here is really nice. How about you? How do you like working here?”
Ray leaned back in his chair, not wanting to burst her bubble about how great the station was, but he wasn’t even sure if he could fake it.
“What?” she urged. “You’re not happy?”
“I’m not miserable. I’m just…I don’t know. It’s complex.”
“How?”
“I love reporting. I feel like I’m doing something really important for the community. It’s how people get their news, and having information is priceless in this world. But…” He glanced up at her. She was completely engaged. “There’s this other side to it, you know? People don’t always want information for what it can do to help them. Sometimes they want
to see the gore and the dysfunction in other people’s lives while they sit inside their homes, safe in their living rooms. And the more people want it, the more we report it.”
“Maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe the more you report it, the more people want it.”
Ray nodded. He didn’t know which came first, but he did know that one monster fed the other.
“Anyway,” Ray said, “there doesn’t seem to be a solution on the horizon.”
She leaned forward. “I can tell this really bothers you.”
“Well, I have a lot on my mind. I can’t believe Hugo let Jill have that story and put me on the pig story. The pig story is yesterday’s news, and Hugo’s just trying to light a fire on damp wood, you know? If I could get the sewage plant story, I know I could…” Ray couldn’t help but notice those innocent eyes staring back at him. Could she possibly understand office politics? Competition?
“Do better?” she asked.
Ray slumped. Okay, she was much savvier than he was giving her credit for.
“Do I sound arrogant?”
“Bitter.” Suddenly she reached out and grabbed his arm.
A strange tingling sensation worked its way up to his scalp, where his hair stood on end. He felt a goofy smile emerge. Maybe he was bitter, but right now he was in heaven.