“I hope this doesn’t put me at the same level as Sly,” said Zeke.
“Don’t worry kid. Sly is a News Reporter III,” said Harvey. “But it took him five years to get there.”
Zeke thanked Harvey but cringed at his next comment.
“The bar has just been raised around here, people,” said Harvey. Zeke noticed Harvey looking in Sly’s direction. “Also, Zeke, I want you to write a first-person feature story on coming to the big city. What’s it like coming to the DMV from a place like Nebraska? Give it to me by the end of the day.”
“No problem, Boss,” replied Zeke.
Zeke’s phone started vibrating. It was his mom calling.
“Joseph, we saw the interview on the national news. What in the world is going on? You totally disrespected that man of God, Fernando Dollar. I thought we taught you better than that. Fernando Dollar has healed many followers. He is not a fraud. How am I going to explain this to all my church friends?”
“Mom, he admitted to taking twenty million dollars in seed money last year alone,” replied Zeke.
“A man of God doing the Lord’s work, especially the work he’s doing, is worth the money,” said his mom. “I love you son, but what you did was a disgrace to the family and to yourself.”
“I love you too, Mom. Can we talk about this later? I’ve got to go now. I ‘ve got a story to write.”
Zeke was just starting on his feature story when Sly spoke up from his cubical. “Congrats on your promotion,” commented Sly. I guess you’re the new golden child. I remember those days. Relish it, kid. It won’t last.”
Zeke looked at his email. He cringed again when he saw an email from Harvey to the entire news department notifying them of his promotion and asking them to join in the congratulations. He looked over at Sly and saw him shaking his head as he looked at his computer.
He must’ve just read the email, thought Zeke.
Zeke tried not to make further eye contact but worked diligently on his feature story the rest of the morning.
At noon, Zeke discreetly made his way to the lobby to meet Julie.
“Ready for lunch?” asked Zeke.
“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” said Julie as she hurried out from behind the receptionist’s desk. “Ummm, maybe we shouldn’t walk out together.”
“Oh, right,” replied Zeke. “Keeping it on the down low. The red Toyota pickup truck in the second row is mine. I’ll unlock it, and you can go out first and get in.”
Zeke watched as Julie walked toward his truck. All this creeping around like he was supposed to be ashamed of what he was doing was not exactly what he had in mind.
Anyway, if someone should be ashamed it should be Harvey, he thought. Cheating on his wife with a much younger woman. Well, sneaking around would have to suffice for now.
Zeke watched Julie get into his truck. Then, he walked out to it. “How do you feel about Greek food?” Zeke asked Julie.
“I love Greek food.”
“Good, then we’ll go to The Big Greek Café on Georgia Ave.” It was only a five-minute drive.
After they entered the restaurant and were seated, a waiter came by with a menu.
“Julie, how about this Trio Dip Sampler as an appetizer?”
“Three dips with grilled pita. Sounds good,” said Julie. “I like pita bread.”
“What would you like to drink?” asked the waiter.
Julie and Zeke both ordered bottled water. As they waited for the appetizer, Zeke asked, “So how long did you say you’ve been working at WJOP?”
“Three years,” answered Julie.
“How do you like it?”
“It’s OK. Harvey has been good to me. He has a gruff demeanor, but he’s really a big teddy bear. Enough about work. Who’s you’re favorite music group?”
“I really like Steely Dan,” replied Zeke.
“That’s pretty sophisticated for a Cornhusker,” said Julie.
“I might have Nebraska values, but I’ve got cosmopolitan tastes,” laughed Zeke.
“Were you in the 4-H Club growing up?” asked Julie.
“Nope. My father tried to get me interested in it, but it wasn’t my style. I was in jazz band. Oh, here’s the appetizer.”
“Can I take your entrée order?” asked the waiter.
“I’ll have the chicken souvlaki platter,” said Julie.
“Same for me,” replied Zeke.
As they enjoyed the appetizer, Julie dug a little deeper into Zeke’s Steely Dan obsession. “So, what’s your favorite Steely Dan album?”
“Kamakiriad,” said Zeke. “But it’s not really a Steely Dan album.”
“How so?” asked Julie.
“It’s a creation of Donald Fagen, the lead Steely Dan singer. It’s a group of songs about a mythical drive down the East Coast in a Volkswagen Karmann Ghia.”
“Kind of retro, isn’t it?” asked Julie.
“I guess so,” admitted Zeke. “But, it’s good stuff. My dad had some old albums lying around. Here comes the chicken souvlaki,” said Zeke.
Zeke ate the whole thing, but Julie had to get a doggy bag.
“We better get back,” said Julie.
Zeke got the check from the waiter and paid the bill.
On the way back to work Julie said, “Thanks. That was fun. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
“Definitely,” said Zeke.
Julie smiled.
When they got out of Zeke’s truck, they walked into the building together.
Zeke returned to the bullpen upstairs and continued working on his story. It was a slow day. Several employees stopped by to congratulate him. Zeke noticed that every time someone stopped by Sly seemed to leave the bullpen.
Zeke spent the rest of the afternoon polishing up his story before taking it to Harvey.
Zeke retrieved his mail from his company mailbox and returned to his cubical. As he was shuffling through his mail Sly came over and couldn’t help but notice the AP Stylebook with the name Joseph Black written in black magic marker on the cover. “Who’s Joseph Black?” asked Sly
“What?” asked Zeke.
“Your AP Stylebook has the name Joseph Black. Who’s Joseph Black?”
“That’s me,” replied Zeke. “I changed my name.”
“This isn’t Hollywood, kid. It’s just a news station. You’ll be lucky if they even know your name after two years.”
“Hey, it’s quittin’ time. Let’s go around the corner to Jake’s Tavern. We’ll celebrate your success here at WJOP. My treat,” said Sly.
“OK,” said Zeke.
The two left the building and walked around the corner to the tavern.
“Hey Sly,” greeted the bartender as they entered.
“You come here often,” asked Zeke.
“Often enough for the bartender to remember my drink,” replied Sly.
The two sat at a table in the back corner with Sly facing the door. The waitress brought a beer over to Sly. “What’s your pleasure,” she asked Zeke.
“Do you have Stella on tap?” asked Zeke.
“Yes,” she replied.
“I’ll have a twenty ounce,” replied Zeke.
“You got it,” replied the waitress.
Zeke noticed that Sly only sipped on his beer until the waitress arrived with Zeke’s Stella. “Do you boys want a menu?” she asked.
“Not right now, sweetheart,” replied Sly. He raised his glass to Zeke. “Cheers to many more great stories together.” They tapped their glasses together and then took a big gulp. “You know, I think we make a good team.”
Zeke folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “What makes you think that we would make a good team?”
“I really know this town. I know people. With my contacts and your special gift, we’re dynamite.”
Zeke unfolded his arms, leaned forward, and took several gulps of beer. “You’ve got a point.”
“You bet I do,” replied Sly as he motioned to the waitress. “Anot
her one for my friend here.”
The waitress brought another twenty-ounce to Zeke.
“Now, drink up,” said Sly who continued to sip on his first beer. “Cheers to no stuttering.” Sly raised his mug to Zeke. Zeke took several gulps. “Now that you no longer have that stuttering problem, I think, together, we can rock this town.”
Zeke was two twenty-ounce beers in on an empty stomach before Sly asked the question. “So, Zeke, tell me. Why did you change your name?”
“I told you. It’s a long story.”
“We got time,” said Sly. “Anyway, if we’re going to be working closely together, I want to know where you’re coming from, where your head is at.”
“Look, I got into some trouble back in high school. I changed my name because of all the negative attention.”
“What kind of trouble?” asked Sly.
“I called in a fake bomb scare to my high school to avoid taking a test. I was charged with the crime, but since I was a minor my record was expunged.”
“Ooooh,” said Sly. “That’s a big one.”
“Well, I’m not proud of it,” replied Zeke. “As I’ve gotten older, I’ve felt worse about it.”
“How old were you when you did it?” asked Sly.
“I was fourteen.”
“That’s pretty young,” replied Sly.
“Yeah, that’s why they expunged my record.”
“So, how did the FBI respond when you told them?” asked Sly.
Zeke looked puzzled.
“You did put it on your SF-86, didn’t you?”
“No, my lawyer back in Lincoln told me I didn’t have to report it since my record was expunged. He said I’d never have to report it to an employer or credit agency.”
Sly scratched his head. “That’s interesting,” he replied. “I don’t think that applies to the SF-86.”
“I think I’m gonna head home now,” said Zeke.
“Do you want me to drive you home?” asked Sly.
“No, I’m OK,” said Zeke.
As Zeke left the tavern, he noticed Sly talking to someone on his phone. Zeke headed to his truck while Sly stayed behind. As he walked, he pondered what Sly said about the expungement not applying to the SF-86. Could his lawyer have been wrong? He was satisfied with himself that he had told Sly only half of the story.
For a brief moment, Zeke had a prick of conscience about driving under the influence, but he managed to convince himself that he felt sober enough and his drive was very short. So, he decided to risk it.
The next morning, Zeke arrived at the station, feeling a little uneasy about the way he confided in Sly.
It’s probably nothing, he thought.
Zeke ran into Sly in the break room as they both grabbed a morning coffee.
“Good morning Sly,” said Zeke. “Our conversation last night. That was for your ears only.”
“Don’t worry kid,” said Sly “Your secret is safe with me.”
They both went to their respective desks in the bullpen. “Zeke, Sly,” yelled Harvey. “Get in my office. Zeke, I want you to go over to the White House press briefing today with Sly. You’ll need to pick up your White House press pass from the Capitol police. Sly, go with him to the Capitol Building to make sure he gets his press pass.”
“No problem, Boss,” replied Sly.
Sly and Zeke took a station van to drive to the Capitol Building. After pulling up, Sly and Zeke entered the main door and approached security. They went through the metal detectors before being directed to the basement for press pass pictures.
“My name is Zeke Jackson,” Zeke told the officer.
The Capitol police officer pulled Zeke’s file up on the computer. “You’ve been red flagged,” said the officer. “There’s no indication of what it’s concerning. I can give you a temporary pass today, but you’re going to have to straighten this out before I can give you a permanent pass. Contact the FBI Clearance Investigation Department when you get back to your office.”
Zeke got his temporary pass, and he and Sly drove over to the White House. After making it past the guardhouse, they parked the van and proceeded to the East Room for the briefing.
Once they entered the press room, they saw that there were fewer people in attendance than normal, so, they made their way up closer to the podium.
The White House Press Secretary, Bonnie Jenkins, made her way to the podium. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” said Madame Press Secretary. “As you know the fight in Afghanistan against the Taliban has been long and hard. We had some early success but are now looking at a resurgence of Al-Queda with the assistance of the Taliban. American troops have been incredible in eliminating many of the leaders of the Taliban and Al-Queda over the years, but the fight is not over and our troops are growing weary. With that in mind the president and vice president have decided to take a trip to Afghanistan. They will be meeting with the president of Afghanistan and the U.S. Army commander general to discuss future draw down of U.S. troops. I’ll take questions now. Let’s start off with a question from WJOP.”
Sly spoke up, “Madame Press Secretary, are you concerned for their safety over there with the renewed fighting?”
“One of the purposes of the trip is for morale building for the troops. And, while we are always concerned about the safety of the president and vice president, we are not overly concerned with their safety on this trip. ”
“Madame Press Secretary,” said Zeke.”
“Can you state your name, sir?” asked the press secretary.
“My name is Zeke Jackson, and I’m with WJOP,” replied Zeke. “Madame Press Secretary, I don’t mean to question your concern for the safety of the president and vice president; however, considering that latest incident where five Marine helicopters were shot down killing twenty crew members, I would think that you would not want to put the president and the vice president in harm’s way.”
“Zeke, I applaud you and the rest of the citizens out there for your concern for our president and vice president; however, I can assure you that their safety is our first concern.”
Security Operations Commander General Hartack, who was standing behind the press secretary, tapped her on the shoulder and asked if he could address the question. “Zeke, as the general in charge of arranging for that trip from a military perspective, let me also re-assure you that the safety of the president and vice president is our first concern. In addition, the Secret Service will be totally involved in the planning of the trip, and we will consult daily with our intelligence in that area.”
“Thank you,” replied Zeke.
“By the way, Zeke, that was a very impressive interview you had the other day. I’d like to talk to you after the press conference if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, sir,” said Zeke. “Thank you, sir.”
After the press conference, the general approached Zeke, “Son, like I said, that was very impressive. Now, let me ask you straightaway, do you have some psychic ability to discern whether people are telling the truth, because that’s what I got out of that interview?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t call it psychic,” replied Zeke. “I don’t know what it is or why I have it. I don’t understand it. I mean, I don’t really believe in that psychic stuff and I’m not very religious. I don’t even go to church. I’m familiar with church and these faith healers because my mom and dad took me to church as a kid. But after I graduated high school I stopped going, and I really didn’t believe anything. Also, I think a lot of these faith healers are really just frauds. Fernando Dollar is one of them.”
“Well,” said General Hartack. “I think you showed us that in the interview.”
“I can prove it to you,” said Zeke.
“Prove what,” asked the general.
“That I have the ability to uncover truth,” replied Zeke.
“I believe you, son. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
Zeke extended his hand to the general for a handshake, but the gener
al did not extend his hand. “Pardon me for not shaking your hand, son, but I’m a bit of a germaphobe. Pleasure to have met you, though. ”
Zeke didn’t really buy the general’s germaphobe excuse.
“Zeke, I don’t think there’s any more we can do here. Let’s get out of here,” said Sly.
“OK,” replied Zeke.
Zeke and Sly left the East Room and went back to their van for the drive back to the studio.
“I think I’m gonna need to get back here and get some contact with people,” said Zeke. “Do some more digging.”
“‘You’re gonna need to get your press pass straightened out,” said Sly.
“Yeah, a red flag. I wonder what that’s all about,” said Zeke.
When they returned to WJOP, Zeke went up to the bullpen only to hear Harvey call out, “Zeke get in here.” Zeke went into Harvey’s office, and Harvey told him to shut the door.
“Anything wrong?” asked Zeke.
“I just got a call from the FBI,” said Harvey, “and they want to talk to you about your press pass and clearance. I told them to come over around two pm.”
“That’s fine,” said Zeke.
“Anything you want to tell me, kid?”
“No, no,” said Zeke. “Just that at the Capitol Building when I went to get my press pass, they would only give me a temporary one for the day because they said my file had a red flag on it.”
“Why’s that?” asked Harvey.
“I don’t know,” replied Zeke.
“Look, kid, don’t be messing around with the FBI. You can get in deep doo-doo.”
“Yes, sir,” said Zeke.
Zeke left Harvey’s office and returned to his cubicle in the bullpen. He sat at his desk wondering what the FBI had on him.
It must be the alias, he thought. I guess I’m going to have to explain it to them. It happened when I was underage. They expunged my record. He wondered how they found out.
As Zeke tried to figure out how they knew, Julie, called him on his desk phone. “Zeke, Agent Harry Jones from the FBI is here to see you.”
“I’ll be right there, Julie,” said Zeke.
Zeke walked down to the reception area on the first floor trying to anticipate questions and contemplating what he was going to say.
Soul Reader Series: Book1: Touch Enabled Page 3