How I Spent My Summer Vacation

by C. Sprite

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

The protesters were just getting their picket line set up when we arrived. Seeing the KBXF-TV truck spurred them to action and they quickly grabbed their signs and started marching. They were all dressed in kitchen 'whites', spattered heavily with red dye or red paint. I assumed that it wasn't blood because it was bright red. Anyone who has ever had a serious cut knows that blood dries to a dirty brown very quickly as it's absorbed into your clothes. I didn't see anyone carrying jars of liquid, although a few carried coffee cups. The local police had sent two cops to see that the two dozen protesters remained civil. The main gate to the plant was closed and a security officer watched from the safety of a small guard building.

Dennis readied his equipment as I nervously watched the chanting marchers. When he had picked a good place from which to shoot, he handed me a microphone and told me to back up a few steps. We were at least twenty feet from the nearest protestors.

"Ready when you are," Dennis said. The light on the video camera winked on.

I waited for a couple of seconds and raised the microphone. "This is Ashley James of KBXF in front of the McNamera Meat Packing plant where members of the Society Against Flesh Eating have begun their annual protest march to call attention to their cause. As part of their effort to stop the slaughter of defenseless animals, SAFE hopes to convince people that the consumption of meat products is harmful to humans. This small, but dedicated, group of demonstrators will remain here for the remainder of the day, but since the plant is closed on Sundays, their march will not interrupt operations.

"Founded in June of 1998, by Elizabeth and Roberta Pointer, SAFE has scheduled their demonstration for the weekend before Independence Day each year since then. Independence Day is traditionally a day of back yard barbecues with meat products as the main food of choice. While diet programs such as the Atkins Diet, Low-Carbohydrate Diet, and South Beach Diet promote the consumption of meat products, the current prices of beef may have a more significant impact than protest marches. But on this sixth anniversary of their founding, the members of Safe remain hopeful that the dangers of cholesterol-clogged arteries will eventually result in the swelling of their ranks.

"This is Ashley James of KBXF, outside the McNamera Meat Packing plant. Have a wonderful day."

I smiled and lowered the microphone. Dennis panned off me to the marchers and then lowered the camera. "Want another?"

"Should we bother?"

"There's always the chance of a tape glitch."

"But it probably won't be used. Isn't that what you said?"

"But if it is, we should have a backup."

"Okay, we'll do it again."

Dennis lifted the camera and the light winked on. I waited a couple of seconds and started talking again, basically repeating what I had already said. When Dennis lowered the camera again I was about to hand him the microphone, but I heard someone say, "Miss James?" Turning, I saw a woman approaching. She wasn't carrying anything that appeared to contain a liquid so I relaxed a little.

"I'm Elizabeth Pointer," she said to me.

"Hello, Elizabeth, I'm Ashley."

"I listened to your report. I want to thank you for not making light of our cause."

"You're welcome. I don't make light of anyone's cause. I'm here to report the news, not editorialize."

"I wish that more people in your profession held such an enlightened position. Are you a vegetarian?"

"I love vegetables, but I don't eat them to the exclusion of all other foods."

"If you can spare ten minutes of your time, I bet I could convince you to consider eliminating animal flesh from your diet."

"I'll give you ten minutes if we can tape it."

"Absolutely."

I looked at Dennis, who was already raising the camera. I waited for two seconds after the light winked on and said, "I'd like to introduce Elizabeth Pointer, one of the cofounders of Safe. Ms. Pointer has consented to explain why our viewers should consider following a strict, vegetarian diet. Ms. Pointer?"

I held the microphone up to her as she began a fervent pitch for SAFE's advocated position. I nodded and tried to appear sympathetic to her cause as she spoke of cholesterol, heart disease, and digestive problems. When she had completed her obviously well practiced first statements, I asked a few pointed questions, giving her ammunition for a renewed assault. She didn't require any urging to expound her views, and I let her talk until she appeared to run short of new information and began repeating herself.

Putting the microphone to my mouth I said, "Thank you very much, Ms. Pointer. Your information has been most enlightening. I'm sure that our viewers will look at their cuisine in a whole new light. We definitely have new food for thought, and as some people here might say, 'Better SAFE, than sorry'.

"This is Ashley James of KBXF, outside the McNamera Meat Packing plant. Have a wonderful day."

I lowered the microphone, and smiled for several seconds. Turning to Ms. Pointer I said, "Thank you for explaining your group's position. I can't promise that the interview will air because that's dependant upon many other factors, but I want to thank you for taking the time to speak with us."

"Have I convinced you to consider switching to a vegetarian diet?"

"You've definitely given me a lot to think about, and I promise you that I will. Thank you, and good luck with your cause."

"You're welcome, Ms. James. You're a far cry from the inept, insecure, and insensitive reporters that I've talked with in previous years."

I smiled. "Good-bye."

She nodded before turning to rejoin her followers. Because of the unexpected interview, I redid the first part of the report. Dennis stored the video equipment and we climbed into the van. I was very relieved at having gotten through the interview without getting splashed with animal blood or paint.

 

Back at the studio, I took the tape to Lonnie for the post work. I explained that I had done the basic report twice, would prefer the later report be used if the interview was used, and explained about the interview. He said that he'd set it up with just my report, and then with the later report and the interview. Mr. Pilere would decide if he wished to use any of it. I left it in Lonnie's hands and walked to my desk. There weren't any messages on my desk, and I wondered if I could leave, or if I should hang around. It was almost noon, and time for the broadcast, so Mr. Pilere wouldn't be looking at the tape until after one o'clock. He also wouldn't be available to tell me if I was needed further until after that time.

 

It turned out that I wasn't needed further. I did have an opportunity to speak with Virginia again after the broadcast, and our conversation was once again interrupted by Mr. Pilere's assistant, when she was sent to get me. I said goodbye to Virginia and followed Tess back to see Mr. Pilere. She told me to go right into his office.

"Sit down, James. I'm glad that you're still here." Pointing to one of the several televisions mounted on a rack suspended from the ceiling, he said, "I just viewed your report from the meat packing plant and I have to say that you've surprised me, James. I thought I was just making busy work for someone whom the upper station management dumped on me for reasons only they know. Maybe it was supposed to be that, but you show a real flair for the work. The job you did on the Civic Center report was top notch, but it could have been a fluke. Today's job dispels that. You're intelligent, extremely articulate for a teenage girl, and­­ a real looker. You're careful about your appearance and always look well groomed. You charm the guys and empathize with the women. Perhaps it's your youth, your seeming innocence, or your angelic face, but people really open up with you. I'm going to use that. You seem to work well with Dennis. How are you really getting along?"

"Fabulously. Dennis is a nice guy and he makes me look good on camera."

"I looked at the raw footage that he shot. Dennis is good, but you're the one making you look good. Speaking of looking good, that's some dress. What prompted you wear it today? It really stood out against those splattered 'whites' that the demonstrators were wearing."

"I thought that it would hide the blood better, if I was splashed. I heard that happened last year."

He chuckled. "Yeah, but that reporter was a jerk. She ridiculed the demonstrators while standing right in front of them. Even I would have thrown that pig's blood on her if I'd been in their place. She got her picture in all the broadcasts, the normal goal of most television reporters, but she was also nicknamed the 'pig lady' after that. It affected her ability to conduct serious interviews. She wound up moving out of this broadcast market entirely, to get a fresh start. I hear that she's still a jerk, and considering another move to get another 'fresh' start. Some people just aren't cut out for this business. You have to get people on your side; make them identify with you; make them want to confide in you. Once you do that they might drop their guard and start to talk openly. "

I nodded to show I understood and sympathized.

"I remember how it was when I started. It took me a while to learn how to get people to talk to me. At first I'd only get monosyllabic answers to my questions. I had to learn how to craft my questions so that people elaborated their responses. Of course you have to guide the conversation where you want it go or people will go off on tangents. I remember this one old guy that kept trying to talk about World War II when I only wanted him to tell me about a car that had crashed into his house."

"Did you major in journalism at college?"

"Yes. I originally wanted to be a newspaper reporter like Woodward and Bernstein of Watergate fame. You're too young to remember that."

"I've read about it. What happened?"

"Opportunity. I got the opportunity to join KBXF, after being turned down by half a dozen newspapers. I jumped at it and never regretted it."

"You never had the desire to move up to a station in a major market, or perhaps a network job?"

"I considered it. But I'd be doing exactly the same thing. The money would be better, but the expenses would be much higher and I'd have to live in a large metropolitan area. This city may not be Chicago, but it's big enough for me. I'm happy here and I don't want to move."

"Is your family here?"

"Yes. Most of the older generation has passed away, but I have a brother and sister, their families, and a lot of cousins and their families, in addition to my own immediate family. My children are both in college now, and expect to settle down here after graduation. My son wants to be an orthopedic surgeon, and my daughter wants to become a veterinarian. Katy's loved animals all her life. If she wasn't in college, she probably would have been out at the meat packing plant today. She was always bringing home wounded birds, baby squirrels, and stray cats when she was little. I remember this one time when she was about eight, she found this baby rabbit that was about half starved. Its mother either got killed, or lost track of the baby. Anyway, she sat nursing that little bunny, feeding it milk through an eyedropper most of the day. We had to force her to go to bed that night, and I had to threaten to take the rabbit to the shelter if she didn't. Within a week that rabbit was hopping all over the house leaving little pellet presents everywhere…"

Mr. Pilere stopped talking and stared at me. "Why am I telling you all this? How did you get me started talking about me, my daughter, and my family?"

I shrugged.

Mr. Pilere smiled. "As I said before, you have flair for this work. You're particularly adept at getting people to talk about themselves. Your future assignments will be real assignments, not busy work, so don't treat them lightly. If you turn in anything like the two you've done already, you'll be seeing a lot of them broadcast."

"Thank you, Mr. Pilere."

"Be here next Friday at seven a.m."

"But I do the evening weather at six and ten on Friday."

"You'll be done in plenty of time to do the weather. You're going to cover the city parade for us. I want you to provide the behind the scenes stories. You'll interview the organizers and marchers as they prepare themselves before the parade starts, and then join Jerry Buchannen on our viewing stand to provide the running commentary."

"The running commentary?"

"Don't worry. We'll provide you with a page of statistics for every group in the parade. You only have to select which information you feel is relevant as the group approaches our cameras. For example you might mention who the bandleader is, how many members they have, what school or organization they represent, how long they've been formed, why they wear the colors that they do, etc. You'll have different groups than Jerry, so you aren't stepping on each other's commentary. You're also free to adlib a bit."

"I see. That sounds like quite a bit of responsibility, sir."

"You'll get a lot of airtime that day. Since it's a legal holiday, all our programming gets reorganized. We devote much of the day to local events, concluding with the nighttime fireworks display in McCarthy Park."

"I see."

"That's all for today. You can head home now."

"May I ask who was originally scheduled to work at the parade?"

"Kay Peterson has been doing it for the past four years."

"And she's okay with me doing it now? That doesn't sound like Kay."

"She doesn't know yet. I only made the decision after seeing your report today. I think you can handle it just fine, and it will be refreshing to have a younger person on the viewing stand."

"But Kay's an anchor, and a very experienced newsperson."

"Don't you want to do it?"

"It's not that. I just don't know how it's going to affect my working relationship with Kay."

"I wouldn't worry about. I've just learned that a San Francisco station is showing an interest in her. They're already talking money. She may be leaving us very shortly."

"I see. Okay, Mr. Pilere, thank you for your confidence in me."

"Sure. Send in my assistant on your way out."

Yes, sir."

As I walked back to my desk, I thought about next Friday. It was going to be a long day if I had to begin work at 7 a.m. and wouldn't finish until 11 p.m.

After getting my purse from my desk, I called for a taxi and walked out front to wait. I was beginning to feel a lot of anxiety over the upcoming assignment because I felt that it would cause problems. I almost wished that I was still working for the catering company. Things had been so much simpler then.

 

The other girls arrived home a little before five, dragging as usual, and each headed to soak in a tub as soon as the leftover food had been carried into the house. As I had done last week, I cleaned out the fridge and made room for the new pans, then washed the old pans. I had already bathed but I wasn't dressed and my hair was still up in curlers so I spent the next hour fixing my hair and doing my makeup. I selected a very tight black skirt that almost reached my knees, for my date with George. I had to wiggle into it, but its tightness would pay off later. I had difficulty putting my shoes on, what with the corset and tight skirt, but I finally managed to buckle the ankle strap. The shoes were almost like sandals, but with four-inch heels. My toes were covered, but there wasn't any upper until you reached the heel. I wore a black sleeveless shell with the black skirt.

By the time the guys began to arrive, Lizbeth, Nicole, and Suzanne were almost ready. Working nights as I did, I only saw George on Sundays, and that was fine by me. I still wasn't completely comfortable with our relationship. I enjoyed being with, and talking with, George, but he was interested in a more physical relationship and constantly tested the limits of my resolve. Being only sixteen gave me virtual immunity, but I wondered why he hadn't moved on to a girl that would happily drop to the ground and spread her legs, even if it was statutory rape.

Eighteen is a very difficult age for a young man. Raging hormones, telling him that it's time to procreate, are beginning to peak, at a time when slightly junior females, his natural sexual partners, fertile since about age nine, are off limits according to the government. I wondered if my own hormones were causing some of my confusion. Involuntarily cast in the role of the female, was I seeking to fulfill some of my own sexual urges in the only way possible? Were they responsible for the small pleasure I had begun to feel since I had first surrendered to the inevitability of the act of kissing George? And just what hormones was my body producing, male or female?

George, as usual, wouldn't be put off. He insisted on sharing a long kiss as soon as he entered the house. I put my arms on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around me, crushing me to him, and bent my head back to meet his face. As his lips touched mine, I parted them slightly to accept the tongue that would soon be thrust deeply into my mouth. I closed my eyes and relaxed in his firm embrace until he had satisfied his initial urge and pulled his face away. I looked into his eyes and smiled as he let me go.

"Hello, Master," I said, continuing the game that he and I had played since the time I had been chained for punishment.

"Hi, my beautiful little slave girl. Miss me?"

"Every minute of every day, Master."

"Good. I like that, because I feel the same."

"Larry and Kent are here. Go into the living room and talk sports while I finish getting ready. Let Steve in when he gets here."

I walked to my room, fixed my lipstick and face, applied a little perfume, and put in my earrings. I added a small gold ring in the center hole, and a rhinestone stud in the top hole, of each ear. I selected a light, eighteen-inch, gold chain for around my neck and a gold bracelet for my right wrist. I was already wearing my watch. I picked up my purse and returned to the living room. I hadn't been gone more than ten minutes, but Steve had arrived before I got back.

"I saw you on the six o'clock news, Ashley," Steve said.

"The Civic Center report?"

"No, it was a report on the demonstration at the meat packing plant."

"Must have been a slow news day," I said.

"What?"

"I suspected that my SAFE report would only be broadcast if there wasn't anything else happening. It was kind of a filler piece."

"Well, whatever it was, I got a kick out of seeing you on the tube. You did a good job."

"Thanks. I didn't get splashed with pig's blood like the reporter did last year."

"That's always a bonus," Kent said.

"On Friday I have to do the parade report," I said.

"What?" Lizbeth said from the doorway. "You're doing the parade?"

"Yes. Mr. Pilere told me this afternoon."

"That's an all day job," Lizbeth said.

"Tell me about it. I have to be there at seven in the morning and I won't be done until eleven at night because I still have to do my evening weather reports."

"That's a long day," Larry said.

"I'll probably have the afternoon off. The parade should be over by noon."

"Are you doing it with Kay Peterson?" Kent asked.

"No, I'm there in place of Kay Peterson. I'll be working with Jerry Buchannen."

"Wow," Lizbeth said, "you've made the big leagues in just a few weeks. You're doing an anchor's job with one of the other anchors."

"I'm not an anchor. It's just a parade, not a permanent job. I'm only supposed to comment on the groups that pass the review stand, using prepared notes about each group. It's actually not much different than doing the weather. I just won't be waving my arms as much."

"But you'll be broadcasting live, for hours."

"Only for as long as the parade runs. That's what, a half hour?"

"More like an hour and a half," George said. "It moves pretty slow because they have a lot of small kids and old folks every year. It starts at High Street, follows Broadway through the city, and ends up at McCarthy Park. The KBXF platform is usually just before the park entrance, near the parade-judging stand. By the time the marchers get there they're beginning to tire, but they perk up until they're past the judges and the cameras."

"The parade doesn't get to the park until a little before eleven," Lizbeth said. "You don't have to go in so early."

"I'm also supposed to interview the groups as they assemble and prepare for marching. That's why I have to be there so early."

Nicole and Suzanne came in then, and having heard my last statement, wanted to know what we were talking about. I explained it all again, and, after receiving their congratulations, we left for our separate destinations. Larry and Nicole were going to the theatre to see the same movie that George wanted to see, so we met up at the ticket line. Lizbeth didn't have to place my arm around George because it was already there.

 

Following the movie we returned to the house and spent a couple of hours down in the rec room before George and Larry had to leave.

 

The next few days passed fairly quickly. I guess I was a little apprehensive, because time always passes quickly when you hope it won't. Kay received the word on Monday that I would be replacing her on the viewing platform this year and she didn't speak to me for two days, except during the broadcast. I didn't push it, and let her work out her anger in her own way. Even after Tuesday, she barely said ten words to me each day.

On Thursday, Lizbeth and I went shopping so I could get a hat with a wide brim for Friday because the weather was predicted to be hot and sunny. Not that we needed an excuse for shopping, because we normally went out three or more days every week anyway. After searching through half the Mall, I finally found a straw hat that we could agree on. I also picked up a couple of pairs of sunglasses, although I might not be able to wear them during the broadcast. I would have liked to get something lightweight and cool to wear, but I knew that Lizbeth would insist on something tight and sexy so I didn't even try.

All week the station had been running promo spots for the parade broadcast, but I wondered who would watch the broadcast from home when they could watch it live on a bright, beautiful day. Mine was not to question the management of the station, and the broadcast signal in this part of the country could reach out as far as a couple of hundred miles, with satellite and cable carrying it much further.

 

The dawn was just breaking when I arose on Friday morning. I imagined that parade organizers all over the city were getting up and preparing to leave their homes. No doubt some had been up all night making final preparations.

I bathed and dressed before going down to breakfast. The other girls weren't up yet, and I didn't feel like cooking, so I peeled an orange to enjoy with a cup for tea. I was extra careful not to spill, drip, or squirt anything on the white blouse and red skirt that I was wearing today. I was wearing a very wide, blue, vinyl belt, studded liberally with rhinestones in an irregular pattern, and had wrapped a red and blue scarf around my new straw hat, so I was all ready with my personal tribute to the red, white, and blue. I was also proudly wearing an American flag pin on my blouse.

At 6:45 I grabbed my hat and purse and left the house. I had arranged with Dennis to pick me up and drive directly to the parade assembly area, instead of going out to the station and then driving back across the city. Dennis arrived a few minutes after I reached the end of the driveway.

"Very patriotic," he said, looking at my outfit.

"Thank you. I even have the fifty 'stars' for my flag," I said pointing to my belt. "Where're your colors?"

"My boxer shorts are red, white, and blue."

"Dennis," I said grinning, "you're impossible."

"That's what mother always said to me."

"Have you done these parades before?"

"Every year. There's nothing to it. We'll visit a bunch of the larger groups as they're getting ready and get their take on the situation. Ask them about the significance of the holiday to them and if their members are excited about their opportunity to participate in the celebration. You know, the usual crap. You'll do great. People like you and can't wait to tell you about themselves."

I smiled. "Thank you, Dennis. And thank you for making me look so good on the interviews that we've done."

"All I do is point the camera and compose the shot. You do the hard part. I couldn't do what you do. Sooner or later I'd make a wise crack and someone would throw a gallon of pig's blood on me, or worse."

I giggled. "Ewwww, what could be worse?"

"I've seen people physically attack newsmen and newswomen who callously ignored the pain that victims were feeling, or made light of a serious situation. Sometimes, in the pursuit of a hot story, news-people forget that they're talking to people who are experiencing a very low point in their lives."

"I hope I never become that harsh."

"That's up to you. Right now you have a sweet innocence about you. If you decide to make this a career, you'll have to find a way to keep yourself from becoming cynical like me. Just like cops, news-people often see the seamier side of life, and it can take its toll on you. You have to remember never to take yourself, or this job, too seriously."

 

With Dennis suggesting which groups we should interview, we completed about two dozen in the time before the parade kicked off. We wrapped up our efforts in time to transmit the interviews to the station and get to the reviewing stand before ten o'clock. Editors at the station would prepare the interviews for broadcast and they would be interspersed during the parade broadcast.

I hadn't met Jerry Buchannen before because he was gone by the time I arrived at the station each day, but I had caught some of his broadcasts. About mid-forties, tall, with rugged good looks, he was standing near the reviewing platform when we arrived.

"I'm honored to meet KBXF's rising new star," he said, smiling and extending his hand.

I smiled and shook his hand lightly, happy that he didn't crush mine as some men are prone to do. "It's a pleasure to meet you, and even more of a pleasure to have this opportunity to work with you today. I've been a fan of yours since I began working at the station."

"Ut-oh," he said smiling. "I'm being out-flattered. And flattery will get you everywhere with me."

"I'm sure that you encounter fans all the time."

"But none more lovelier than yourself. I'm afraid that people aren't even going to even notice little ol' me on the stand this year."

"Don't be silly. Who do you think all the women will be looking at? Certainly not me."

"This is going to be a great day," he said. "You are so good for my aging ego."

I giggled, but didn't have a chance to respond before one of the assistants from the station approached us and handed us each a sheaf of papers. Looking at the bundle I realized that they were the data sheets for the groups in the parade. I also noticed that Jerry's packet was only a quarter as thick as mine. He saw me looking at his bundle.

"I do the groups like the fire departments, National Guard, cops, veterans, Chamber of Commerce, and Rotarians. My female partner always does the bands, schools, boy scouts, cub scouts, girl scouts, 4-H, beauty queens, garden clubs, sewing clubs, and women's auxiliaries."

"That's sexist," I said.

"I agree, but you're the first female to mention it. Usually, my female partners are only too happy to get the lion's share of the airtime."

"Why isn't it done like the news stories are handled at the station, with each person alternating?"

"Beats me. Probably because we've never complained. I don't really care. I get enough airtime during the week and I'm not looking to move to a larger market. Kay's ambition wasn't worth fighting. Besides, I get to enjoy the parade more this way."

"Okay, Jerry. I won't rock the boat. This is my only parade anyway."

"Do a good job and they'll draft you for the Columbus Day parade as well."

"Not me. I'll be back in school by then."

"Which college?"

"Not college, high school. I'm just a junior."

"High school? Why are you still in high school? Never mind, none of my business."

"I don't mind. I'm still in high school because I'm only sixteen."

"Sixteen? I figured you for about twenty. Does Pilere know?"

"I don't know. I know that Mr. Graham is aware of my age, and it's in my personnel folder."

"I'd be willing to bet that Pilere doesn't know. Not with the way he talked about you."

"What did he say?" I asked warily.

"Well he called me in to tell me that I wouldn't be doing the parade with Kay this year. At first I thought he meant I wouldn't doing the parade, but then he told me that I'd be working with one of the best new talents to come to the station in years. He said that this was your first live report, but that you were a natural."

"That was nice of him. I suppose I should tell him that I'll only be around for another nine weeks."

"Why leave? You can continue to work after school starts. You'll have plenty of time to do your schoolwork between broadcasts."

"But I'm from Massachusetts. I'm only visiting my cousins for the summer."

"If you're as good as Pilere says, you can demand two thousand a week, or more, and get it easily. If you land a job as an anchor, say when Kay leaves, add a few more thousand. Isn't that worth moving out here?"

"Five thousand a week?"

"Or more."

"More?"

"Salaries are the most poorly held secret at the station. I understand that Kay is getting $260k a year. They certainly wouldn't object to replacing her with someone just as talented, who also happens to have a personality."

"Just for being a reporter?"

"No, for becoming a television newsperson, station anchor, and local celebrity. I've seen your weather reports. You look as comfortable in front of the camera as most people are when in their own living room talking to a friend. You can't teach that. It has to come naturally. Toss in a strong, clear voice, good people skills, and intelligence, and you're in high demand in our business. Add looks like yours and you become a station manager's daydream, and every male viewer's wet dream."

I had started to fantasize about staying on, but his last remark brought me down hard. I was only a woman temporarily, and I couldn't possibly consider staying on. As a temporary employee I didn't have full medical insurance so there hadn't been a problem. But if I became permanent, I would be required to have a complete physical. I couldn't possibly go through with that.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound tech that came to hook us up. I took the mic and stepped into the van for a minute to run it beneath my blouse. When I emerged, Jerry had already taken his seat. The sound tech clipped the transmitter on my belt, connected the mic, and ran the earphone up to my ear. A makeup person touched up my face and hair, and I was ready. I took my seat and prepared for the broadcast.

When we were cued by the control room back at the station, Jerry greeted the audience and made the introductions. I simply sat there and smiled, reading along on the teleprompter until it was time for me to speak. The parade had started but it would be quite a while before it reached our location, so the station ran some of the interviews that Dennis and I had shot, as I introduced them. Interspersed with the interviews were shots of the progress of the parade from two remote locations. We also broke for a number of commercials, trying to get as many completed as possible before the parade reached us.

The parade finally reached our location and we spoke about each group as they approached and passed us. While Jerry represented the masculine viewers, I represented the feminine watchers. I used a lot of phases such as 'Aren't they adorable' when talking about the groups comprised of small children, and described the costumes and uniforms of the marchers. Anything that I thought the feminine audience might be interested in passed my lips as my mind raced to keep the presentation fresh.

When the last group had passed, the station told us that we had to fill another eight minutes, so Jerry and I adlibbed a discussion about the parade and the marchers. The final minutes of the show were dedicated to a discussion of the day's upcoming activities and the annual fireworks display. I was relieved when the control room said that we were off the air. We received a 'very well done' and could relax.

"Excellent job, Ashley," Jerry said. "It seemed like you've been doing it for years. I understand now why Pilere is so pleased that you've come to the station. He's going to be plenty upset when he learns that you'll be leaving at the end of the summer. You should really consider moving out here."

"Thanks, Jerry, but my Mom has a good job with a defense contractor and I'm sure that she wouldn't want to leave it."

"Does she make $260k a year?"

"No."

"Does she make $100k a year?"

"Uh, no."

"Doesn't seem like a tough decision to make. Do you have a lot of family back in Massachusetts?"

"No. My aunt, uncle, and cousins all live here. My Gram lives in Florida now."

"I know that I wouldn't have to think on it very long, but that's me. Good luck, Ashley."

"Okay, Jerry. It's been great working with you today. Have a nice holiday weekend."

"You too, Ashley. I'll see you around the station."

After pulling the microphone cord through my clothes, I handed the unit to the sound tech, then went looking for Dennis. He was packing up the truck.

"Hi Dennis."

"Hi, Ashley. Great show. You did good. Kay Peterson is going to be really disappointed."

"Kay?"

"Yeah, I heard she was telling everyone that you'd fall on your face. She's bitter about being taken off the show."

"I thought she was over that. She's started speaking to me again."

"It's easier to hurt someone if you make it seem like you're friends with them. It's like the old saying, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'. Watch your back. Kay might be leaving, but her throwing arm is still strong, and she always carries a wide assortment of knives. A lot of people have felt her pointed daggers over the years."

"Thanks for the warning. And thanks for picking me up today. I'm going to wander around the park for a while, so I won't need a ride. I'll see you tomorrow I guess."

"We're not done yet."

"We're not?"

"No, the station always wants some interviews in the park after the parade. You know, the follow-up stories like, 'How did you enjoy the parade today?' and crap like that."

"How much do they want?"

"We usually shoot thirty minutes of tape."

"That could take a couple of hours."

"Yeah, that's about right."

"And then we're done?"

"Then we're done."

"Okay," I signed, "let's do it."

 

We didn't complete the interviews until after two o'clock. That gave me just two hours before I was supposed to be at the station to prepare for the six o'clock broadcast. I would have gone directly to the station, but I was a bit wilted from the heat so I got Dennis to drop me off back at the house.

My cousins were out so I took a shower, put on fresh clothes, and fixed my hair and makeup. I also took time to call my mom. I had been calling at least once each week, but I naturally hadn't told her about my becoming a girl. I told her that I'd gone to watch the parade and then spent some time in the park, and that I expected to watch the fireworks tonight. She said she was glad I was having a good time, and that everything was going well at home. The plant had made good progress with the contract and her boss was pleased with her work. She hoped that it might lead to a promotion. After twenty minutes we said our good-byes and I promised to call her again in a week.

No one had come home by the time I was ready to leave for the station so I called a taxi and made it with ten minutes to spare. I had no sooner sat down than Mr. Pilere's assistant was standing by my desk informing me that he wanted to see me. I wondered if Jerry had told him that I wouldn't be around after the end of the summer. I had decided not to mention the subject if he didn't.

"Come in, Ashley," he said, waving to the small couch across from his desk. When I had taken my seat he said, "You look as fresh as newly opened rose."

"I went home to shower and change. I was feeling like last week's rose."

"You looked great on the reviewing stand, and you did a fantastic job, absolutely fantastic. I knew I was right about you."

"Thank you, Mr. Pilere."

"I've decided that you'll be able to do a better job for us if you work during the week rather than weekends. On weekends you mostly get human interest stories, where during the week you can handle real news, political meetings, and press conferences."

"But I do the weather every night at six and ten. I can't work all day and all night both."

"I'm going to talk to Rob Graham about finding a replacement person for the weather report. You can be more valuable to the station as a news reporter, and– maybe eventually as a co-anchor," he added tantalizingly.

"Thank you for your interest, Mr. Pilere, but I've been happy doing the weather."

"A trained parrot could do the weather. You've got the instincts and talent to be a top television news reporter. This is a golden opportunity that most anyone in this business would jump at."

I'd tried to avoid telling him about myself, but it seemed that I couldn't avoid it any longer.

"It would mean more money," he said, and when I didn't respond right away he added, "It could mean an extra thousand dollars a week. I know that the weather people don't make a lot of money."

This was almost funny because I was feeling rich from my present pay. "I know it's a wonderful opportunity, and I don't want to appear ungrateful…"

"But…?"

"But there's something you should know. I'm younger than a lot of people around here seem to think, so I've no reason to suspect that you know either. I'm only sixteen."

"Sixteen? You're only sixteen? You look twenty."

"It's the makeup. I purposely try to make myself look older so I'll get more respect than a sixteen year old would. And I'll be returning to high school in September."

He sat back in his chair and stared at me for what seemed at least a full minute. I didn't say anything either.

"Sixteen, and with the maturity to conduct an interview like someone twice your age, with ten years of experience. It's even more incredible now that I know." He stared at me again. "Okay, here's what we'll do. You'll move to weekday news reporting until school starts and then you'll work weekends during the school year, switching to weekdays during vacations. Next summer you'll switch to weekdays again. Of course, if a nighttime anchor spot opens, we'll move you in there on a permanent basis."

My head was swimming. Under other circumstances I would jump at a job offer like this. Anyone would. But I couldn't. I wasn't what I seemed and I would be found out if I tried to perpetuate the deception for too long. It had gone on for too long already. And just the fact that I might be considering it on some subconscious level meant that I was in danger of losing touch with reality. I desperately racked my brain for a way out without angering Mr. Pilere, because I did want to finish out the summer. The money was too good to pass up, and I sure couldn't earn sixteen hundred dollars a week doing anything else that I was qualified for.

"Mr. Pilere, I don't go to school here. I don't even live in this state. I'm from Massachusetts. I'm only visiting my cousins for the summer. I took the job as weather girl because it was temporary until September when the regular weather person returns from maternity leave. I'll be leaving for home then."

Mr. Pilere stared at me for a few seconds. "How about enrolling in school here and staying with your relatives?"

"I couldn't do that. My mom would be all alone."

"You'll be going off to college in a couple of years and she'll be all alone then, wont she?"

"I suppose."

He continued to stare at me as he tried to think of incentives, and counter arguments to my rationale. "There must a way. I'll think on it now that I know the situation. In the meantime I'll talk to Rob and see what we can do for the rest of the summer. That's all, Ashley. And once again, well done today."

"Thank you, Mr. Pilere."

I smiled to him as I left, but I was glad to be out of there. I didn't see my reporting or presentation skills as so spectacular that anyone else should be working hard to control my career path. In fact, I didn't really even look upon it as a career path. I knew that I could never use it on a resume for James Ashley. The money that I got for doing the work was the only benefit that I would receive, so it didn't make any sense to assume more responsibility. Of course, there was the consideration of the extra money that he offered.

 

(continued)

  

  

  

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