Bylines & Deadlines

by Kimberly Vinje

  “I don’t think I would have called it that,” he said. “I call it survival. I call it doing what you have to do to protect yourself.”

  “Is that how you justify doing it? I mean, you manipulated me, but it wasn’t for your survival.”

  “No, it was for yours.”

  “Why didn’t you just keep following me? You did it for a month without me knowing. Why did you reveal yourself on the mountain?”

  “It was too hard to follow you and not be seen. Especially after the plane ride - you’d recognize me,” he said. “And I guess I was a little curious,” he added.

  “Curious? About what?”

  “I had been keeping an eye on you for weeks. It’s weird reading someone’s file and practically becoming part of their life without ever talking to them.”

  “Hm,” she said.

  “What was that for?”

  “I guess I just thought that was part of your job - remain a mystery or something,” she said. He didn’t answer her.

  She hugged him tighter for warmth. The motion of the truck over the roads and the humming of the engine lulled her to sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The motion of the truck and the engine coming to a stop woke her. She looked up and tried to see Jack’s face through the dark. “Jack, what are we going to do?” she asked starting to feel trapped.

  “Shh. We’ll think of something. We always do.” Just as the words left his mouth the doors to the truck jostled.

  “What if they found us?” she asked breathing hard. One door swung open and light blinded them. They heard the sound of bags being put onto the floor, and then the door closed again. Both of them let out a deep breath of relief.

  “Do you smell that?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Smells like food,” he said. “Stay here.”

  “Where are you going?” she wanted to know as she reached to try to stop him.

  “I’m going to check it out,” he said already standing.

  “Be careful. He could open the door again. Or it could be a trap,” she said.

  “Great, I hadn’t thought of that,” he mumbled sarcastically.

  After a few moments of boxes sliding, a beam of light bounced off the ceiling of the truck. “What is it?” she asked when she saw the light coming at her.

  “Food. Myra must have called him to tell him we would be on the truck,” he said as he sat down next to her on the coats. Except for the occasional zipper, the coats made for comfortable padding.

  “Thank, God,” she breathed as she sat up and took the bags from him. He propped the flashlight up against the coats. He took one of the bags, and they each opened the one they were holding. “Two bottles of water. What do you have?”

  “Cheeseburgers and french fries,” he said digging into the bag. “There’s a note in here,” he said as he reached in, pulled it out and unfolded it. Megan reached for the flashlight and held it so they could see the writing. It wasn’t very clear, but it was legible.

  “Myra said you was hitching a ride. We’re about two hours from the city. I’ll need gas in an hour. Check on you then. Big Lou”

  “He’s helping us!” she said quietly excited. She reached out with one arm and hugged Jack around the neck. Realizing she had just nearly attacked Jack out of happiness, she quickly looked down at the food. Her mood turned from excitement to extreme caution, but she wasn’t sure why. “I’m starving.”

  He took the flashlight from where she dropped it and placed it back up onto the coats. “We’ll leave it on while we eat, and then turn it off to save the batteries,” he said. She nodded without looking up. They sat with the bags between them.

  “This may be the best cheeseburger and fries I’ve ever had,” she said with a half-full mouth - something only a starving Megan would do.

  “No wonder, you didn’t eat your sandwich last night and we left without eating this morning,” he said. They finished the burgers and turned off the flashlight. She didn’t crawl back to him. She sat back against the truck wall.

  The only instance in her life when time had passed slower was while she lie in a pool of blood on the floor behind a bar. She counted the number of pot holes the truck hit. Then she tried to remember the words to her favorite song, then her favorite movie. The silence was screaming in her ears, and she couldn’t hear herself think. She sighed hard.

  “Are you okay over there?” Jack’s warm voice cut through the cold air. Her sanity returned at the sound of his voice.

  “Yeah, I’m just bored,” she said nonchalantly and cracked her knuckles.

  “Okay, we can do something to keep busy.” She heard him rustling.

  “What did you have in mind?” A hint of seduction in her voice she hadn’t intended. She could tell from the silence he noticed it, too. She quickly became disgusted at herself - running for her life, and she’s flirting. She cleared her throat.

  “Mmm. How about good old fashioned conversation? Kind of like 20 questions,” he answered.

  “Fine, just what I had in mind,” she said convincingly as she sat up.

  “Me first,” she said. “Have you ever been in love?”

  “Wow, I didn’t expect that. ‘How do you live with yourself?’ - maybe, but not that one.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “Once,” he said quietly. “And you?”

  “It’s not your turn yet,” she insisted. “What was she like?”

  “I’m not sure this is how the game is played,” he said.

  “Well, I have the rules right here, and it says it is,” she insisted.

  “Well, she was… She was normal. Actually, she was pretty incredible.” He paused. She decided she was jealous.

  “How did you meet?”

  “In Jr. High we hated each other,” he said with a laugh. “When we got to high school, everything changed. My junior year I was playing baseball. I was running off the field and looked up into the stands. There she was. She was smiling and clapping. She looked like...like an angel. Anyway, shortly after we started dating she found out she had leukemia. I pushed her wheel chair up to the stage so she could get her diploma when we graduated. Two weeks later, she died. It all happened so fast - it didn’t seem real. I was so mad for awhile. That’s another reason I decided to be a doctor.”

  “I’m sorry,” Megan said - her voice soft and sad.

  “Thanks. It was a long time ago,” he said. There was a long silence. “What about you?” he finally asked.

  “What about me?” she was still thinking about the young girl who died. She hoped he wouldn’t lie about something so tragic.

  “Have you been in love?” He reminded her of the original question.

  “Oh jeesh,” she sighed. “I don’t know - maybe.”

  “There are no maybes - you either are or you aren’t.”

  “Then I don’t know,” she said.

  “Then you haven’t been in love,” he said. “You definitely know when you’re in love.”

  “How?”

  “It’s not something I can explain, and it might be different for everyone,” he said.

  “Oh. Well, I guess I’ve cared for someone before. Maybe I could have fallen in love, but we didn’t get the chance,” she said.

  “The editor?” he asked. She instantly became annoyed and a little apprehensive at the thought of him knowing so much about her.

  “Well, this is a stupid game when you seemingly already know everything about me,” she said crumbling a bag.

  “Sorry. I’ll shut up and let you talk.”

  “What’s the point? Why don’t you tell me about me,” she said.

  “What I read in a file isn’t exactly a window into an individual’s soul,” he said. “There’s plenty I don’t know about you.” She sat quietly for a minute deciding whether to continue being mad or get over it.

  “Yes. Will,” she said. “He had just told me how he felt when all of this stuff started getting out of hand.”

  “Will�
�s the first guy you could have had feelings for? Didn’t you date in high school or college?”

  “Well, yes, but you probably already know that,” she said uncomfortably. “I had a lot of guy friends and some guys I dated, but I was pretty focused on my dreams. I wasn’t going to be one of those girls who gave up everything for a guy.”

  “And you don’t think the newspaper guy would have wanted you to quit eventually?” he asked. She had never thought about Will asking her to quit. She always pictured them working side-by-side - having it all. Fantasies always had happy endings.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “And I’ll probably never find out.”

  “It’s pretty impressive getting a job at a big city paper fresh out of a smaller college.”

  “Yes. It is. He told me when he hired me he didn’t know what to expect from me. He said when he first read my application, he thought I was audacious. I don’t even know how my application made it to his desk. I think he set up the first interview to humor the kid who thought the paper would be lucky to have her. I know I wasn’t supposed to make it through the first round. The group of potential new hires was on a tour of the newsroom, and he was walking down the hall on his way to a meeting. I remember him stopping dead in his tracks. I had done my homework - I knew who he was. I smiled at him and then ignored him. I knew what I was doing. He came up to the group and introduced himself. He asked everyone who we were. An Editor-in-Chief wouldn’t do that with a group of potential new hires. I think I knew right then and there I had the job.”

  “So what happened?” Jack asked.

  “Nothing. He’s professional, and I wasn’t about to ruin my chances of being taken seriously by openly flirting or sleeping with the boss. Plus, he was married. We built a mutual respect for each other. I learned from him. When he took me in to protect me while I researched the story, he told me how he felt. That was as far as we got.”

  “You weren’t in love with him?”

  “I had never let myself feel that way. I think I’ve probably fallen in love with what could have been. You get pretty lonely when you lose everything. I’ve spent countless nights fantasizing about this perfect relationship with the perfect man. You and I both know it would never have turned out like that. Fairy tales are just that,” she said.

  “Is it his tie clip you keep with you?” he asked cautiously. She was startled.

  “How do you know about that!?” she demanded.

  “I’ve seen you hold it. On the plane, the night in the bar, in the cabin when you were drinking and I was working on your hand,” he said. “You pull it out when you don’t think anyone is looking or when you’re anxious.” She couldn’t remember if she had been holding it or not, but she knew it was always with her.

  “Yes. It’s his.” She touched her leg and could feel the tie clip in her jean pocket. “I miss him or maybe I just miss someone caring about me. Who knows?”

  “Well, this is fun,” he said facetiously. She heard irritation in his voice and thought she should soften her statement.

  “I miss a lot of people. My friend Derrick - he’s so funny and really smart. You’d like him. He wanted to be a doctor, too. Of course, there’s my family. Hell, I even miss Burt Newman!”

  “Who’s Burt Newman?”

  “Just some guy at the paper who used to drive me crazy. He sat across from me. I always thought he was gross then,” she paused before she said Will’s name again. “Then someone told me why he was the way he was. He was taking care of his wife.” She paused again wondering what happened to Burt Newman and his wife. “I guess things aren’t always as clear cut as they may seem.”

  “This conversation keeps getting more and more light-hearted,” he said.

  “We just need to change the subject,” she said. “Do you like sports?”

  “Yeah, do you?” he asked.

  “Yes. I played a lot of tennis in high school and college.”

  “I’m a Yankees’ fan,” he said.

  “Oh God,” she said laughing.

  “Hey, the Yankees have won more World Series titles than any other team,” he said defensively.

  “Of course they have. They can afford the best,” she said. “That doesn’t exactly make it fair for smaller market teams.”

  “Okay, so sports isn’t a good topic for us either,” he said laughing.

  “Maybe not,” she said laughing with him. “So we can’t talk about love or sports. Obviously, politics and religion are off-limits. Have any other ideas?”

  “What’s your favorite song?”

  “I don’t have one,” she replied.

  “Come on. Everyone has a favorite song.”

  “You’ll laugh.”

  “I promise.”

  “Oh. Okay. It’s Sway by Dean Martin,” she confessed reluctantly. “I used to go to my grandparents’ house when my parents went out for date night. My grandpa would put on his records and then ask my grandma to dance. I’d just sit there watching them and think how lucky they were. Then, he’d ask me to dance, and I’d feel like the most special kid in the world.” The thoughts should have brought back happy memories, but they just made her sad. Life was so simple then.

  “That’s very cool,” he said quietly.

  “Thanks. And yours?”

  “Probably Paint it Black by the Stones.”

  “That’s a good one,” she answered. There was silence again. “Now what?”

  ”Well, you seem to have a pretty broad array of interests,” he said. “I’m sure we can think of something that will spark a conversation.”

  “You sound surprised,” she said. “Why?” she said defensively. “You need to be really well-versed when you’re schmoozing with a source. I’m not stupid. I may have batted my eyes to get my job, but I was damned good at it and earned the right to keep it.”

  “Whoa, I didn’t say...,” he tried to speak.

  “Well, that’s the way most of your stupid city treated me when I moved there,” she said remembering how rough the adjustment to New York had been for her.

  “Megan, you don’t have to be defensive with me,” he said. She sighed.

  “Shows how much you know about me. I’m defensive with everyone. I’m sorry. I’ve just always felt like I have to prove myself - like I’m not worthy unless I can one-up someone.” She paused. “Damn it,” she said loudly hugging her knees to her chest. “I have issues. I need so much therapy I could single handedly buy a shrink a three bedroom townhouse in Manhattan!”

  “You know, I’ve spent some pretty stressful times with you. I’ve seen how quickly you react, how strong and courageous you are. At this point, I feel like I know you better than you know yourself,” he said in a convincing tone. She didn’t know what to say, but she was glad there were no lights on in the truck. She bit her bottom lip and wondered if he could possibly know her as well as he thought.

  The truck started to slow. After a few stops and turns, it rolled to a stop and the engine fell as silent as the conversation had.

  “Stay back here. I’ll check it out,” he said and clicked on the flashlight. She didn’t like the fact he could see her, but she couldn’t see him when he shined it at her.

  “I’m going with you,” she said as she stood. “And get that thing out of my face.”

  “Why can’t you just stay back here like I asked? Why do you always do the opposite of everything I say?” he asked.

  “Well, if you must know, you can blame this one on nature. I have to go to the bathroom,” she said knowing full well even if she didn’t have to use the restroom, she wouldn’t have listened to him. “Apparently you don’t know me, or my bladder, as well as you may think.” She grabbed the flashlight from him and started toward the doors. She turned toward him just in time to see him drop his head and shake it from side to side.

  The door swung open and the light hurt her eyes. She squinted and hopped out of the truck. Myra’s ex-husband was a large man. He was well over six feet tall and had a beer belly that
made him look like he was carrying sextuplets. It was the kind of belly that made it impossible to tell whether he was wearing a belt. Funny how six-pack abs and a six pack of beer seemed at such opposite ends of the spectrum for Big Lou.

  “Hey, I’m Big Lou. Did you get the food and note I put back there for you?” Lou asked. His green John Deere ball cap covered graying brown hair. It appeared he had made an attempt to tuck in his red flannel shirt, which gapped at the stomach to reveal a white under shirt - probably thermal underwear.

  “Yes. I’m Megan. Thank you so much! We were starving,” Megan said with a flirtatious smile as she touched Big Lou’s big flannel arm. “I can’t thank you enough for helping us out,” she said sincerely. Then her look took a somber turn. “I don’t know how much Myra told you, but my husband is a horrible person. He’s hurt me very badly,” she held up her hand and rolled her bottom lip into the slightest pout. She sized up Big Lou and tried to imagine Myra married to him.

  “I just don’t understand men,” Big Lou said. “I’d like to meet the man who could hit a pretty little thing like you.” Megan managed a weak smile at Big Lou and gently squeezed his arm.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you to my friend,” Megan turned to see Jack standing behind her looking at her with a sarcastic grin on his face. “This is Jack.”

  “Nice to meet you,” the men said at the same time and exchanged hand shakes. She thought she saw Jack put extra strength into his - probably intimidated by Big Lou’s stature, she thought.

  She glanced around. They were at a gas station. “I’ll be...” she said pointing toward the back of the station, and Jack nodded. Lou tipped his hat, and she could feel one or more sets of eyes on her as she walked toward the back of the station. The door wasn’t locked. She opened it and went in. The restroom looked as though it hadn’t seen a scrub brush in years, but it was good enough. She did her best not to touch anything more than she had to and used her foot to flush the toilet. She also used a paper towel to work the handle on the hot water tap, which could only manage lukewarm. She looked into the dirty mirror, sighed and shook her head. She must have aged five years in the last two days. She used the paper towel to open the door and began to walk out.