How I Spent My Summer Vacation

by C. Sprite

 

Chapter Twelve

 

After breakfast the following morning, Lizbeth turned on one of the cable news networks and pulled me over to watch.

"Lizbeth, I won't be covering important stories like these."

"Reporting is reporting. A good reporter can make a flower show exciting. Just observe the way the reporters do their interviews and try to do the same things."

We spent the rest of morning watching that channel or one of the other cable news shows, and rating each of the reporters that we saw.

"It seemed that a lot of these reporters asked some pretty inane questions," I said after Lizbeth had turned off the set.

"Yes," Lizbeth agreed, "it appears you don't have to have the intelligence of a rocket scientist to become an international reporter."

"A pretty face and impressive chest has seemed to work for some of them."

"You're all set in those departments. Now you just have to practice the inane patter. Tomorrow you can practice in front of the camcorder. We'll take a random event and you'll do a story on it."

"Okay. Like Mr. Graham said, I'll do the who, what, where, when, why, and how."

"When did he say that?"

"The day I was hired he suggested that I consider a career in journalism. He said I would be good at it because I got right to the point."

"Come Saturday, you'll have a chance to prove it."

 

The next several days flew by. The weather remained fairly static and I was becoming more and more comfortable doing the reports. I forgot about the audience watching me and performed my routine for the red light on the camera, remembering to be enthusiastic and energetic, and smiling often. Kay became a little friendlier to me, perhaps because it became clear that I was able to handle the simple job, and Don was always friendly. By now I knew all the names of the people who worked the six and ten o'clock broadcasts, and many of the regular staff who were still working when I arrived each day at four. I hadn't met any of the morning/noon broadcast people yet. And despite the fact that the word had spread that I had a regular boyfriend, the men at the station continued to go out of their way to flirt with me, do things for me, and ask me out on dates.

On Friday, Lizbeth and I returned the clothes to Mrs. Livingston that I had already worn during broadcasts, and selected a dozen new outfits. It was fun knowing that I could borrow almost anything in the store, but Lizbeth still had final approval over the selections. It seemed hard to believe that in just three and a half weeks the idea of being a female had been inculcated so thoroughly upon my psyche that I would delight in trying on skirts and dresses, and accessorizing. I knew that several outfits would require new shoes and I hoped that the two for one Summer Sale was still going on at the Mall.

Rather than bothering Nicole, we had taken a taxi to the store, and when we were done I called the cab company again. They dispatched a taxi right away.

 

Friday was a normal workday at the station in all respects except one. When I opened my paycheck envelope, I received the biggest shock that I had since opening last week's envelope. My gross pay for the week was listed as sixteen hundred dollars. That was six hundred dollars over my previous 'regular pay'. Instead of going to see Mr. Graham, I just assumed that this was from Mr. Hathers promise to reimburse me for the lost wages from the catering service, but I was surprised to receive anything before I had even worked my first weekend.

 

I arose with the other girls on Saturday, but instead of putting on my uniform, I put on one of the new dresses that we had picked up yesterday. I announced at breakfast that I'd take a taxi, but Suzanne wouldn't hear of it and drove me to the station while Nicole and Lizbeth went directly to the shop. The side trip would only take her ten minutes out of the way, and Suzanne's role in the cooking and preparation was minor anyway.

I didn't know the receptionist at the desk, but she recognized me, and I walked to my desk after signing in. After putting my purse in the drawer, I stood around for a few minutes and then walked to the main studio, entering quietly so as not to disturb the broadcast. No one questioned my presence, either because they recognized me or because I was wearing my station ID, and I stood well out of the way of the cameras.

I watched for about ten minutes before returning to my desk. If I wished to watch the broadcast, there were numerous monitors around the newsroom. I hadn't received any instructions, other than to come in on Saturday morning, so I was unsure of what I should do or who I should see. I was sitting at my desk about ten minutes later when a woman approached me.

"Miss James, I'm Tess; Tess Conners. I'm Mr. Pilere's assistant. Here's your assignment," she said as she handed me an envelope. "Dennis will be waiting in the equipment room until you're ready."

She turned and walked away without another word. I sat there with a silly look on my face until I broke out of the trance and opened the envelope. It contained a press ID with my picture, an entry pass, and promotional information from the Civic Center where an electronics show was underway. The show opened at nine o'clock, but the paper said that I'd be admitted whenever I arrived and we could shoot the exhibitors as they set up. I became excited at the prospect of seeing all the newest stuff and hoped that I'd have a chance to scope out the games. I practically ran down to the equipment room.

There was only one person in the equipment room. A middle-aged man was bent over a piece of equipment on a bench, touching various points inside with a metal probe and watching the changing waveform patterns on an oscilloscope, as he compared the readings with information in a service manual.

"Dennis?" I asked.

"Yup," he said without even looking up.

"I'm Ashley."

He stopped what he was doing and looked at me. "So I see."

"I'm ready to go whenever you are."

"Okay. I'm ready." He put the probes down and turned off the o-scope and power to the bench. "Let's go. The truck is all loaded."

I followed him out a rear door that led to the station's fenced in rear yard. An impressive looking news truck with satellite transmission equipment on top was parked just outside the door.

He jumped in the driver's side while I walked around and climbed into the passenger seat. He started the truck and drove out of the yard after using his station badge to open the motorized, sliding gate.

"I understand that this is your first time out," he said.

"Yes, it is. I've been doing the weather for a few weeks."

"Yeah, I've seen you. Who do you know?"

"What?"

"Who do you know to get this job? They never send out weather people to cover stories. Not even fluff pieces like this."

"Fluff pieces?"

"Something without any real news value. Community interest crap."

"Oh. Mr. Graham set up the job. He said that it would be good experience for me if I decided to make a career in journalism."

"Graham, eh?"

"Yes."

"Okay, since this is your first time, here's what we'll do. I'll shoot a bunch of background stuff first, while you decide how you want to handle the story. Even if you flub, you can do a voice over later in post work."

"Okay." Pointing to what I assumed to be a scanner on the front dash, I asked, "What are you scanning?"

"Local police, fire, emergency services, and ambulance," he said as he picked up an attached earphone and stuck it in his right ear. I assumed that meant the conversation was over.

When we arrived at the civic center, a policeman pulled a barrier away and let us drive to the rear of the building. Dennis spent ten minutes getting ready and then led the way into the center through a rear door. He was waved immediately through but I had to show my press ID and pass before being waved through.

The main floor was crowded with exhibitors hurrying to put last minute finishing touches on their displays and exhibits. Dennis went directly up to the balcony that circled the entire floor and slowly panned the exhibit floor from several different points. I touched up my makeup and checked my hair while he was shooting. When he was satisfied, he turned to me.

"Okay, James. I got the background stuff. How do you want to handle your story?"

"I thought that I'd make a simple lead-in statement from here, then we can go downstairs and see if we can find someone to interview. We can finish up with a shot of me playing a video game, and then making a closing statement."

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Let's do it." He handed me a microphone.

I calmed myself while he took several steps back and composed the shot with the exhibit floor in the background. I saw the red light on the camera wink on.

"Whenever you're ready," he said.

I took a deep breath and waited several seconds before I began talking. I was basically going to repeat the information from the press release included in the materials I'd been given. "This is Ashley James of KBXF-TV, coming to you from the Civic Center where a consumer electronics show is set to begin very shortly. Exhibitors are busy putting the finishing touches on their displays for the show that will be open to the public this Saturday and Sunday from nine a.m. to four p.m. Over a hundred companies are represented on the main floor, with products ranging from computers to home electronics and video games. I don't know about you, but I can't wait to get downstairs and try out some of the hottest new games on the market." I moved the microphone lower to signal that I was done talking, and Dennis panned to my left and down to the exhibit floor. I waited until he lowered the camera before moving.

"Want a second take?" he asked.

"Wasn't that one okay?"

"It sounded okay to me. I thought that you might want to do it again in case there's a glitch in the tape or something."

"Oh, okay. Let's do it again."

I ran through the spiel again and Dennis nodded at me. "Downstairs?"

I nodded and moved towards the stairway, with Dennis following.

Once on the main floor I walked directly to the area where the video games were concentrated. I looked around for someone who was free but everyone was rushing around and no one made eye contact. So I started looking at literature on the tables that talked about the new games. A lot of the literature was hype from 'unbiased' reviewers, but reading it made me want to plunk down my money and purchase some of the games.

Glancing at my watch, I realized that the doors were about to open so I asked Dennis to turn around and face the front of the center, then stood facing him. As I heard the doors open and the running steps of kids headed my way I told Dennis to start rolling. I waited a couple of seconds and said, "We're on the exhibit floor now, in the video games area, and the front doors have just opened. Any second now I expect to be mobbed by anxious kids." I looked over my shoulder then turned back to the camera. Smiling, I said, "Here they come." I stepped out of the way to let Dennis get a clear shot of the entrance aisle as dozens of screaming kids ran towards us. Just before they reached us, he stopped shooting and we got out of the way as much as possible.

Now that the doors had opened, the exhibitors moved out of the booths to the floor to promote their wares and watch for shoplifters. I was able to find several exhibitors anxious to speak to me on camera while promoting their products. We spent about a half-hour doing interviews and then I asked an exhibitor if I could play his newest game. He cleared an area for me and I began playing as Dennis shot my play from behind and to the right. As my game character died a particularly gruesome death, I turned to the camera and said, "The nice part about video games is that no one really gets hurt. Kids, don't try this stuff anywhere but at home on your X-Box. This is Ashley James of KBXF-TV at the Civic Center. Have a wonderful day."

I smiled and Dennis panned back to the game for a couple of seconds before turning off the camera.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"No, I think that's it, unless you have any suggestions?"

"Nope. We shot a lot of tape. Ready to go?"

"Sure."

I thanked the exhibitor and followed Dennis out to the truck and climbed in after he unlocked the door. It was only a little after ten. As he climbed behind the steering wheel I asked, "What now?"

"Now? Now we return to the station and you explain to the post people what you shot. They'll take it, condense it down for broadcast, and give it to the news director. He'll review it and decide if it's something they can use, and either fit it into the broadcast or put it in the shelf."

"But it's still so early."

"Yeah. So?"

"So isn't there something else we should cover?"

"Nope. We don't have any other assignments. Maybe they'll have something for us when we get back."

"Oh. Okay."

"You want to cover a fire or something, don't you?"

"No, not necessarily. I just thought that since we're out, there might be something newsworthy to film."

"Relax. This is your first time out. You did good."

"Really?"

"Really. I've gone out with a lot of first timers. Most trip over their tongues the first time. A few have gotten the shakes, and one even left the contents of his stomach on the floor of my truck."

I bent to look down at the floor while moving my feet away from the center.

Dennis laughed. "It was a different truck, and it was many years ago."

I smiled. "That's a relief. How long have you been doing this, Dennis?"

"About twenty-two years now. I can't imagine doing anything else. I took Graham out on his first assignment."

"Really, how did he do?"

Dennis chuckled. "He's the one that messed up my truck. That's the reason he works in the control booth instead of facing the camera. But if you ever tell him I said that, I'll deny it."

I smiled. "It'll be our secret, plus whoever else you've told."

"No one else. You're the first."

Picking up the earphone from the scanner, he stuck it in his ear, so I decided that the conversation was over. Perhaps he thought he had said too much already.

 

Dennis showed me to the postproduction room where the tape would be edited, and introduced me to Lonnie before leaving me there. Lonnie gestured to a chair and pushed the tape that Dennis had shot, into a VCR, controlling the playback via a complicated control panel. I sat behind him as he viewed the entire tape and made cryptic notes on a pad of paper using numbers that were superimposed on the image. Turning to me, he asked, "Do you have a preference for which opening to use?"

"No."

Turning away again, he began punching buttons. The monitors in front of us illuminated with various scenes from the tape Dennis had shot. They repeatedly started, stopped, rewound, and played again, as Dennis worked. He finally took a videotape from a different machine than the one with the original tape and slipped it into a protective case after scribbling a few notes on the label, and then handed it to me.

"What do I do with it?" I asked innocently.

Scowling, he said, "Give it to Pilere, or his assistant, Tess."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks, Lonnie."

He said, "No problem," and immediately pushed another tape into the equipment in front of him.

I walked back to the newsroom and located Tess. She was typing something into her computer keyboard. When I had stood there for a full minute without being acknowledged, I said, "I've got the tape from the Civic Center assignment."

She stopped punching in data and took the tape without looking up at me. "How did it go?"

I shrugged. "Typical fluff piece. Nothing special."

She paused and looked up at me, perhaps surprised that I would describe my first assignment in that manner. Perhaps most first-timers acted as if they had just covered the September 11^th attack on the World Trade Center, but I knew that this was basically just busy work. It would only show if it was an excessively slow news day.

"Do you have anything else for me?" I asked.

"No, not right now. Hang around for while. Mr. Pilere might want to speak to you later."

I returned to my desk and sat down to wait until I was called, or until three o'clock arrived. Realizing that the station's noon broadcast was on, I walked over to a monitor and took a chair from the nearest empty desk to sit and watch.

I paid close attention to the two reports by station reporters, watching their movements, and analyzing everything they said. I also watched the weather person's report closely, studying the way she moved and the inflection in her voice.

When the broadcast ended I returned to my desk. I doodled on a piece of scrap paper while I went over the presentations by the station's reporters in my mind. I was wrenched from my preoccupation when I heard someone say, "Hi, I'm Virginia." The woman that I had just seen do the weather report was standing next to my desk, with her hand extended.

I smiled and extended my hand to shake hers, remembering not to stand up, as Jimmy would have done. "Hi, I'm Ashley."

"Welcome to KBXF, Ashley. I've seen your reports during the past few weeks. You're very good. You started strong and you've gotten better with each week. Paula had better not stay away too long or everyone will forget her."

I giggled. "I'm only a temp so there's no chance of that. I watched your report just now. It was wonderful. Have you been doing it very long?"

Virginia, whom I judged to be about twenty-five, took her seat at the desk across from mine. "I'm been here for three years now. I only work weekends because I have two small children at home, and it would be too hard on them if I worked during the week. On weekends my husband is there to care for them, so this job is perfect. You're still in high-school I understand?"

"Yes, I'll be a junior this coming year."

"A lot of people are breathing easier by knowing that."

"What do you mean?"

"You're too good. You still have a bit to learn, but you're beautiful, intelligent, and completely relaxed in front of the camera. The word is that you've been made a part-time reporter now. I hear that the anchors are afraid that you'll be after their jobs soon."

I wondered if she pulling my leg. I smiled and said, "They don't have anything to worry about. I'll be gone in ten weeks."

"You're not going to continue here after school starts?"

"No, I live in Massachusetts. I'm afraid the daily commute would be a bit too much."

"Massachusetts? How did you get the job all the way out here?"

"I'm visiting my cousins for the summer. Mr. Souter saw me at a dance a few weeks ago and asked me to come for an interview."

"Well, when you get home you should send a demo tape to the local station and apply for a job. You're a natural."

"Thanks, Virginia. How old are your children?"

"2 and 3˝. The baby is Corina and my son's name is Clay. Here, I have a couple of pictures," she said as she opened a drawer and removed a small object. It was the duplex type picture frame with two 3x5 frames hinged together.

I took the frame and looked at the images of two healthy smiling children. "Oh, Virginia, they're absolutely adorable. You're so lucky. Why don't you leave the picture frame on your desk?"

"The other weekend weather person is a grump. If I forget to remove them before I leave, he throws them into one of my drawers. I had to replace one piece of glass a couple of months ago. Now I leave them in the drawer most of the time, just taking them out when I miss them or when I want to show someone their picture."

"That's terrible. I haven't met him yet, but most everyone else is nice."

"Just watch your back, Ashley. You have no idea how vicious some people here can be. I've heard that a few people are already jealous of you, even if you are only temporary. They wouldn't hesitate for a second before stabbing you in the back. Kay Peterson is like that. Luckily, she's reached the top newsperson position here and she's trying to move up to a network job, so she doesn't see you as much of a threat, but a few others might. You're not filling a vacant reporter position on weekends. They made a new spot just for you, and that has a few people worried. Especially those that have their eye on Kay's anchor position, should she move…"

Virginia stopped talking as Mr. Pilere's assistant, Tess, approached. "Miss James, Mr. Pilere would like to see you in his office."

"Thank you," I said, standing up.

"I'll be gone before you're back, Ashley," Virginia said. "Good luck, and remember what I told you." Under her breath so that Tess couldn't hear, she said, "Watch out for Tess. Don't trust her."

"Bye, Virginia. Thanks."

I followed Tess to Mr. Pilere's office and went in.

"Close the door and have a seat, James," a middle-aged, balding man said.

I closed the door and sat in the chair that he had gestured to.

"I looked at your tape. Not bad for a first effort; not bad at all. If we have the time, we might run it. I'm going to give you something a little meatier for tomorrow. Be here at nine. You and Dennis will go over to tape the protesters at the packing plant. Here's the press release."

I smiled as I took the sheet of paper. "Yes, sir. Good pun."

"What pun?"

"You said that you were giving me something a little meatier for tomorrow."

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Be here tomorrow. That's all."

I left his office and walked back to my desk, where I called for a taxi. Virginia was already gone so I walked to the front of the building and waited for the cab to arrive.

 

It was still early afternoon so I fought my way out of my corset and put on my swimsuit. Not expecting the other girls home until after seven, I relaxed poolside or swam. At six o'clock I turned on the small portable television that I had carried out earlier and watched the broadcast. I was pleasantly surprised when they used my report. One of the weekend anchors, Adam Dellahan, said, "There's some doings at the Civic Center this weekend, and here with a report is KBXF's own Ashley James."

I watched the tape closely. It certainly wasn't earth-shattering material, but I felt that I had made it interesting enough to watch. I had smiled enough and kept the tone of the report simple and straightforward. I didn't look nervous or falter while talking. I was satisfied.

Turning off the set, I went inside to shower and dress. I knew that Lizbeth would be upset if I wasn't wearing the corset when she arrived home.

Since I would only be wearing it for a few hours, I selected the tightest skirt in my closet after I had dried off and struggled to close the corset down all the way. By wearing it today, Lizbeth would be less likely to select it another day, or so I reasoned. I put on a sleeveless dark blue knit top that complemented the almost knee-length blue plaid skirt of polyester and rayon. The skirt had been altered by Lizbeth to be almost as tight as the fifties gown, and I struggled to get down the stairs to the rec room after I had made up my face and fixed my hair.

I was watching television when my cousins arrived home. They looked exhausted as they each carried in a large stainless steel pan filled with leftover food. I got up and came over to help.

"Rough day?" I asked.

"Murder," Lizbeth said. "It was hot, and there wasn't even the slightest breeze to cool us off. How about arranging for some better weather tomorrow."

I smiled. "I only report the weather. I don't make it."

"How did your first day as a reporter go?" Suzanne asked.

"Great. I got to go to the Civic Center and report on the consumer electronics show and the new video games."

"Lucky girl," Lizbeth said. "We're sweating gallons and she's in an air conditioned convention center playing video games."

"I only got to play one game, and just for show. I was killed after only a few minutes. I had to end it quickly because the camera operator was shooting it and waiting for me to wrap up the report. You might be able to catch it at ten. They showed it during the six o'clock broadcast."

"We'll watch if we're still awake," Nicole said. "Right now all I want to do is take a nice relaxing bath. Do me a favor and find space in the fridge for these pans. Help yourself to the food if you're hungry."

I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, so I fixed a small dish for myself and then began putting the pans away while the microwave heated my food. I had to clear out some pans from last weekend, scraping the few remaining portions into the waste disposal. I stacked the now empty pans next to the sink with the intention of washing them after I ate.

I had eaten and cleaned up before anyone came back down. Lizbeth was the first, followed shortly by Suzanne a few minutes later, but Nicole didn't show for another half-hour. Now that they were clean and relaxed, they wanted to hear about my new experience, and after telling them my story, they told me about their day. I knew they had another company picnic tomorrow and Suzanne asked me what I was doing tomorrow.

"I'm going out to interview the protesters at the meat-packing plant. So far I don't even know what they're protesting."

"The slaughter of animals," Nicole said. "They're opposed to people eating meat. I like vegetables a lot, but I'm not about to give up meat altogether."

"Be careful what you say in front of them," Suzanne warned. "Last year a reporter had a cup of blood poured on her when she made a comment during the broadcast about going for a hamburger afterwards. I heard that it wasn't the first time the protesters had used that tactic."

"Blood?"

"Pig's blood, not human blood."

"Blood is blood, and it'll ruin my clothes. I'd better not wear anything from Mrs. Livingston's boutique. I'll have to find something of mine to wear."

"Wear a raincoat," Lizbeth suggested.

"I'll just wear something that I don't like as much, and be careful what I say. I'm surprised that the station is even covering the demonstration if the protesters are hostile to the press. I always thought that most groups want to have their protest covered."

"Maybe only as long as you agree with their position," Lizbeth suggested.

"Even if the reporter doesn't agree, their message still gets out. I wonder why I was picked for this assignment if reporters are attacked."

"The station will get a hell of a story if you have a cup of pig's blood thrown on you," Suzanne said.

"Last year they ran the report over and over for two days," Nicole said. "The protesters got ten times the coverage than they would have if they had just marched peacefully."

"Maybe you really should wear a rain coat," Lizbeth said, grinning.

 

Because I wasn't going in until nine o'clock, I couldn't catch a ride with Suzanne in the morning. I arose early and shared a light breakfast with them, but I didn't bathe and dress until after they had left. I was getting better at removing the sleeping corset, but it was still always a struggle.

After pulling on the padded brief, I stepped in front of the mirror so I could examine myself very carefully, from the tips of my painted toenails, to the top of the curlers in my hair. I no longer bore any resemblance to the reflection I had seen in a mirror before coming out here. My waist had shrunk considerably from the almost constant restriction from the corsets, and even without the corset now, it had a decidedly feminine appearance. The regular corset further reduced it from its current twenty-three inches to twenty-one inches and kept it from slowly returning to its former size. If I continued wearing the corsets long enough, I had no doubt that I would eventually be twenty-one inches without the corset as internal organs were pushed into new places and the still soft bones of my chest were bent inwards. My arms, legs, and tush had filled out considerably as my body had begun retaining more water, giving me both the pear shaped appearance of a woman, and softer skin.

I hadn't had many muscles before, but now they were even more hidden. The breast forms, removed and replaced twice now after cleaning, pulled at the skin of my chest and stretched it out. During the last removal, I had examined my chest closely. Suzanne had said that the soft spongy feel and sagging look of my chest wasn't the development of female breasts, but was merely due to fluid buildup where the skin had stretched from the weight of the breast forms. As I looked at the female that stared back at me, I remembered the discussion about gender that we'd had when I'd first arrived. Perhaps nature had really intended me to be a female, but simply played a cruel hoax by giving me the diminutive genitalia of a male. If my breasts started to grow, I would finally know the answer. But how much longer would I have to wait until I learned the truth?

 

I arrived at the station a little early. It wasn't that I was anxious to interview protesters, but rather that I just didn't want to risk being late if there was a traffic problem. If I proved myself to be dependable, I might be given better assignments than today's.

Going directly to Mr. Pilere's assistant, I asked if there was any additional information that I should have, or if there had been a change of assignments. She shook her head without looking at me so I walked to the equipment room in search of Dennis. He was again hunched over a workbench examining the internal workings of some piece of equipment.

"Good morning, Dennis," I said sweetly. "Are you ready to leave?"

He turned around and looked me up and down before saying anything. "It looks like you already went."

I giggled. "I heard about last year's pig blood thing, and decided to wear something that wouldn't show it very well if it happened. I like this red dress, but perhaps it will make me less of a target if the blood would be less noticeable on me than someone else."

"If you're referring to me, I hadn't intended to get close enough to be a target. It's happened several times, not just last year."

"How can we interview them if we don't get close?"

"It's the same story every year. They're opposed to the slaughter of animals for food. Everyone should eat bean sprouts, tofu, and yogurt. We should eat peanuts and eggs for protein. Even fish should be left alone." He grinned. "They could run last year's story and almost no one would know the difference."

"Then why are we going?"

He shrugged. "Who knows? We weren't originally scheduled to go this year, and don't count on ever seeing it broadcast, unless absolutely nothing else happens today. Congratulations on having your first report broadcast, by the way."

"Thanks. I guess it was a slow news day."

Dennis smiled. "Now you're getting it."

(continued)

  

  

  

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