Chapter 3
“Fifty men went up a hill,
None of them came down.
Fifty men went to him,
None of them were found.”
— Traditional Scottish Rhyme, circa 1880s
Less than 20 minutes after accepting the job at the Loudoun Chronicle, Kate was already beginning to have doubts. Before she had made the rather impulsive decision to come back here, she had carefully considered the pros and cons.
The paper had been around for nearly two hundred years, was well entrenched in the community and was one of the few paid subscription papers left in the area after recent expansions by The Washington Post. Since the Post was unlikely to hire her, and journalism was the only career she ever considered, the Chronicle felt like the right place to be.
But her sense of balance had forced her to acknowledge some unpleasant truths. The Chronicle ’s subscription was dwindling; its stories often lacked polish; and she feared it would be more provincial than she was used to.
Within those first few minutes, she knew she had been right on all counts. They were nice, of course. Lawrence, the editor, introduced her around to smiles and nods from all sides. But the meeting then became a series of inside jokes, unsubtle digs between reporters and general confusion.
To add to her doubts, the guy she had seen in the coffee shop this morning-the one who could not stop staring at her-was here making a repeat of his morning’s performance. She had the feeling that he was trying to be subtle, but if so, it wasn’t working. Every time she looked away, she could feel him watching her.
The sensation wasn’t threatening-she had no malicious vibe off him-just unnerving. Momentarily, the thought flitted through her mind that she had something on her face, or was somehow dressed inappropriately. But if that were true, only one guy noticed, and she thought that was unlikely.
Rebecca tried to keep the meeting going by listing various sections of the paper: Schools, Crime, Politics, Business and Sports. It was life divided into easy-to-understand categories that had little bearing on the world outside-life as a series of boxes. Not that Kate saw any other way to run a paper; it just felt forced.
But the meeting was bogged down from the get-go. The schools reporter was feuding with the crime reporter. The guy who was staring at her-Quinn-was bickering with the political reporter. The sports reporter wouldn’t say two words together, earning him the anger of Rebecca, and the business reporter was nowhere to be found.
About the only good thing was that it was over quickly. Rebecca, though clearly annoyed, waded through the options and quickly chose those she thought would be on the front page. But the overall feeling was provincial-no doubt about that.
Within minutes of leaving the meeting, it only became worse. Kyle, the crime reporter, was waiting for her outside, anxious to talk.
“Do you know what the key to being a good reporter is?” Kyle began.
On the face of it, this was an offensive question. Did she know what being a good reporter was? Well, she had been doing it for three years; she certainly hoped so.
“Oh here we go,” said another voice, one of the photographers.
Kate glanced at Bill. He was a huge guy, fat from every angle, but cheerful and friendly.
“What?” Kyle said, looking annoyed.
“Don’t let him bother you,” Bill said.
“Kyle, are you bothering the new girl already?” a new voice piped in from behind Kate.
It was Janus-she remembered the name because it sounded like a girl’s, but was spelled differently.
Behind Janus, Kate noticed the guy from the coffee shop-Quinn.
“Not a problem,” Kate replied to Janus.
“Anyway,” Kyle said, clearly irritated at the interruptions and the crowd around him.
“Oh, is Kyle going to give his watch speech again?” Janus asked, and thrust out his hand to Kate. “The name’s Janus.”
“He’s Welsh,” Quinn said behind him. Quinn thought it was possible this was the worst opening line he had ever used on anyone, but it had just popped out there.
Janus turned and looked at him with mock offense.
“How dare you bring my ethnicity into it?” he said, far too loudly. “I tell you, Kate, the racial stereotyping around here is just ridiculous.”
“It’s best if you ignore him,” Quinn said, sticking out his own hand for Kate to shake. “He won’t go away, but you will gradually tune him out.”
“Gentlemen, I believe I was talking to the lady,” Kyle said, and stroked his mustache angrily.
“Right, right,” Janus said. “Mustn’t get in the way of the watch speech.”
“The watch speech?” Kate asked, a little bewildered at the motley collection of guys around her.
“As I was saying, the most important part of being a reporter is…”
Janus shot up his hand and Bill quickly followed. Quinn laughed and Kyle ignored them all.
“The most important part is to set your watch ahead by three minutes,” Kyle said, looking very serious.
The others started chuckling.
“Set it three minutes ahead?” Kate repeated, feeling like she was being put on.
The others started laughing again.
“Don’t listen to them,” Kyle said again, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s very important.”
“Why?” Kate stammered, completely at a loss.
“So that you will never be late,” Kyle said, still looking very intense.
“How would that help?”
Kyle stared at her a moment, giving her a blank look at why she couldn’t see the wisdom in what he was saying. Then he smiled.
“It’s very simple,” he said, while Janus and Bill started talking amongst themselves. “All reporters like to procrastinate, yes?”
Kate nodded.
“And all reporters are always about two minutes late to everything, right?”
“I guess,” she said.
“A-ha,” he said, looking pleased with himself. “Well, if you set your watch just three minutes ahead, it gets you moving. You look at it and instead of being late by two minutes, you are just in time.”
“Oh,” Kate said.
“It’s very simple, but I can’t tell you how many times it has saved my butt,” Kyle said, still smiling intently.
“I see,” she replied. She paused, waiting awkwardly for something to save her. “Well, that seems very helpful.”
“Of course, you could just leave earlier,” Quinn said.
Kyle grunted in disgust.
“Yeah, sure,” he said. “You could, yeah. You make fun of me, but how many times are you late to something, Quinn? Huh?”
“All the time, Kyle,” he replied.
“You see?” Kyle said, looking at Kate in triumph. “You see? I’m never late. I’m always one minute early. It makes all the difference in the world, Kate.”
Kyle jabbed his finger in Quinn’s direction.
“All the difference,” he said again.
“That’s super, Kyle,” Janus said, and put his arm around Kyle to start moving him away. “You’re scaring the poor girl. Worse, you’re scaring me.”
