Sam strolled into the room, his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers, his 18-year-old face cocky, his blond hair tousled on top of his head. He looked like he was in no hurry.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked in a casually slow voice.
Philip had to take control of himself quickly before he grabbed Sam by his collar and tossed him out the door. After punching him in the face, of course.
“Why are you so late? You know we need to have this cleaned before the next round of papers! It’s a time-consuming job and we needed you here this morning, when you were scheduled to be here.”
Sam didn’t look bothered. He gave Philip a blank look. “I was out last night kind of late. I slept in.”
“You were supposed to be here this morning, early! You knew this. Now we’re so far behind schedule, John and I will be working till the early hours of the morning.”
Sam shrugged. “I can get on it now. You can go do your writing and whatever boss duties you have.”
Philip crossed the room in just a few long strides, coming within two feet of the young man and halting in place. He glared down into the surprised blue eyes and narrowed his own brown ones.
“You have spent your last day here, Sam. You’ve crossed the threshold for the last time. I don’t want to see you here again.”
Sam lifted his hand, palm to the ceiling. “I need some pay then, since you canceled my apprenticeship.”
Philip was stunned. He opened his eyes wide, staring at Sam, barely holding in his temper. If John hadn’t come over and stepped between the two men, there was a good chance Sam would have landed on his backside on the hard ground behind him. Philip was already balling up his fists, ready to punch as hard as he could.
“All right, all right.” John was facing Sam when he got between them, his hands up in a nonconfrontational way. The anger surged through Philip but he was also grateful John had taken over, because he was about to lose control of his temper.
John rested one hand heavily on Sam’s shoulder. Philip was as surprised as Sam when John forcefully turned the young man around and shoved him toward the front door. “Here’s the thing,” John was saying. “People who are learning a trade in order to be paid for the work they do have to actually show up to work, and when they get to work, they have to do the work they are assigned. You’ve shown us repeatedly you aren’t capable of handling even the simplest of tasks without complaining. Your services aren’t needed here, you won’t be getting a single dime from Philip, and you won’t show your face in here again. If you feel the need to talk in the saloon or on the streets about it, I hope you know whose reputation will hold up in court.”
Sam glanced over his shoulder at John. Philip was deeply satisfied by the look of terror on the man’s face.
“Court? I haven’t done anything wrong. I won’t be arrested for anything.”
They were at the door and John reached out to grab the knob and pull it open. He pushed Sam out of the building with enough force that the young man stumbled a bit and had to get his balance before he spun around, only to have John slam the door in his face.
Philip was standing in the doorway, watching his employee in action. As John walked back, he gave Philip an amused look.
“I knew you were going to throw a punch, boss,” he said in a respectful voice. “And I know you don’t want any trouble from anyone, so I thought I’d step in and do it for ya. After all, my pa is the mayor, isn’t he?”
Philip nodded. “It’s kind of hard to believe sometimes. You are nothing like him. But, yeah, everyone knows he’s your father and if you wanted him to, your pa could make things happen for you.”
Philip and John returned to the printing press, picking up where they had left off. Within a few minutes, both men had stripped off their outer jackets and were working only in their undershirts.
As the sun began to set, Philip suggested they stop for a bit. They were nearly finished with the cleaning process and would have to begin setting the press to print the paper through the night. They needed to get out at least 400 prints, which would take five rolls of paper, two vats of ink and 12 hours of their time. They were cutting it close but they could make it by five am if they worked until 2 am. The last batch of prints would be coming off the press and they would take 2-4 hours to dry.
It was not the most complicated of procedures, but it did take some time and cooperation to get it done. A skilled operator was the only one who could make the composites. Both Philip and John were skilled in that area. They were at a fairly equal level, though Philip was fairly certain his employee could create the composite just a bit faster than he could.
They broke for dinner and came back just a half hour later, their stomachs full and their minds busy. Philip didn’t take the situation out on his friend any more that night and apologized for how he’d been the night before when they both returned in the morning to check on the papers.
Finding them in pristine condition, they folded them and readied them for distribution. He could only hope the citizens would continue buying the paper. The journalists who wrote for the paper were all men of authority in Glenwood and not all of them had much writing talent.
But he and John were diligent in editing for accuracy. Everything that was written was accurate and true, spelled right and grammatically correct.
It was a perfect paper.
Or so he thought.
Chapter 4
Philip didn’t just rely on the men in town to give him articles for his newspaper. He often wrote them himself, as well. The newest story he was set to write and had been gathering information for was about the supplies in the general store, what new product was coming, what was overstocked and what would be sold out by the end of the week.
His morning was already hectic enough as he and John helped the paperboys gather papers in their shoulder bags to walk around town, calling out that the latest edition had been printed, hoping to sell as many as they could. The paperboys were allowed a penny for every paper sold, so they were anxious to get them sold and would do anything to make themselves heard.
There were boys running back and forth, gathering papers, while he checked them and removed several papers with rips or tears in them. Each one disappointed him and he was glad there weren’t many.
He was crossing from the foyer into the printing room when the front door slammed open and the mayor stepped in, his hulking form filling the entire doorway.
“Where’s my boy?” he asked.
Philip curled his lip briefly, wishing to God this man was not the mayor of Glenwood. “He’s busy,” he replied bluntly, continuing into the other room, hoping the man would leave on his own. Unfortunately, Hanover followed him, his heavy footsteps drawing the attention of all the boys trying to gather their papers together.
“I asked where my boy was!” Hanover barked at Philip’s back. “Not what he was doing!”
Philip spun around and glared at the mayor. “And I told you he was busy because I don’t take orders from you, Mr. Hanover. What do you need?”
Hanover looked taken aback and stunned for a moment. His face darkened as anger took over and he narrowed his eyes at Philip. “How dare you speak to me like that?”
Philip raised his eyebrows. “You are in my place of business, sir. You can’t fire me. Please tell me what it is you are here for so we can keep this civil.”
“I want you to pull that article you are working on.”
Philip tilted his head. “Excuse me? What article are you speaking of?”
Hanover lifted one large arm and jabbed a pudgy finger at Philip. “The one you’re working on!” He repeated loudly.
Philip looked around at the boys with glaring eyes, making them all go back to what they were doing. “You mean the one I’m personally working on?” he asked, hoping he was being as irritating as possible.
Hanover sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. “Obviously that is the one I’m talking about. The one about the general sto
re. I want you to pull it! I have something I want you to replace it with. No one wants to read about fabrics and lures!”
Philip was personally affronted by the mayor’s demand. He didn’t want anything to do with it. But if there was one thing a mayor had, it was power. He may not have been able to fire Philip but he could definitely make his life a living hell. His job was chaotic enough, his life was stressful enough; he didn’t need the mayor on his back, too.
“I have already started forming it for the next copy. You’ve got a week; I’ll make room for your article.”
The mayor roared when he spoke, “I’m telling you to replace your dumb article with mine. No one wants to read what you write. You’ve never had a truly successful article. You are not the best writer. It’s better for you to realize that now instead of making a constant fool of yourself.”
At that moment, John came in and froze in place, staring at his father. “Pa? What are you doing here?”
Hanover turned around, looking at his son with barely hidden disdain. “I’m telling your boss some truths he doesn’t want to hear.”
John’s face fell into deep resentment. “Pa, I’d really appreciate it if you would leave. We can handle this place.”
“You shouldn’t even be here!” Hanover barked. “Do you know how it makes me look, with you working for the printing press under a man like this?”
Philip was annoyed, giving the mayor an angry look behind the older man’s back. “What do you mean, a man like me?” he asked. “Exactly what kind of man am I?”
Hanover turned and looked at him with a sneer and a dismissive look. “Oh, I’m just saying you have no authority or skill. He should be the boss, if anything.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at John.
Philip pulled in a deep breath, ready to give the mayor a piece of his mind when his eyes moved over the big man’s shoulder to John’s angry face. John met his eyes and shook his head. Philip could practically hear the man asking him to let him handle it.
“Pa, there’s nothing on God’s green earth to prove such an asinine assumption. You are the one who is power hungry, not me. I enjoy working here and I’m just as skilled as Philip but not better than him and he owns this place. He gives me all the authority I need. Please, Pa, leave. We don’t need your advice here.”
The mayor turned to glare angrily at Philip. “I don’t want to see that article in the paper, Jenkins. If I do, you’re gonna answer for it. You replace it with mine and you do it now.”
Philip frowned. “I don’t even have your article, Mayor.”
“I’ll get it to you as soon as I can.” He was surprisingly accommodating, considering what he was telling Philip to do and how he had insulted him so freely. “And you should give my boy more authority. He doesn’t even know his own worth!”
John pulled in a deep breath but held it and his father walked past him, his nose in the air.
Philip had also drawn a breath but he wasn’t holding it. He was huffing with anger, trying to hold himself back from causing any harm to the Mayor of Glenwood. The battle inside him raged on as the man was escorted by his son back to the front door.
It was the second time in less than 24 hours that John had taken someone to the front door with the purpose of kicking him out. Philip didn’t have time to watch like he had yesterday. He was too busy.
He turned back, hoping his paper boys would know to inspect and not sell any papers that were ripped, torn or had smudges in the printing. It didn’t happen often, since he and John were highly skilled at keeping the press clean, making the composites and running the press properly.
And he didn’t want it to happen. He’d also suspected that some of the boys were trying to sell the papers for more than the stated price. It was skimming off the top and Philip had heard it was being done, by some of his friends who purchased the paper every week.
He didn’t want his reputation sullied by the paperboys committing the crime but he would have to investigate a bit more before he found out exactly who and how many were doing it.
To add to this stress, he was heading into a month that always proved to have slow sales. For some reason, the time during the middle of summer when there was nothing political to report on and no new changes coming to Glenwood was always the slowest. It was hard to make money if the paperboys were skimming off the top and stealing money from him.
“Philip.” John came up behind him and stood in the doorway while Philip knelt next to a new pile of papers. Philip looked over his shoulder at his employee. “Does he really want you to pull the story you were writing? You were reporting on the general store, right?”
Philip nodded. “Yep. He says no one wants to know about new fabrics and lures and any sales Duncan might have going on.”
John shook his head, grunting. “I mean, I know he’s my pa, but sometimes he is so insufferable.”
“Well, he is the reason you’re working for me in the first place, isn’t he?” Philip asked. “I mean, not to offend you or anything but you don’t need to work here, as you so eloquently pointed out yesterday, and you’re only here to stick it to him. I’m right, am I not?”
Philip had stood up and turned to face John, who still looked highly irritated. “So you’re gonna bow down to him again?” John asked.
Philip wasn’t surprised by his friend’s behavior. He’d stopped defending Hanover’s actions when the man put a stop to the library they were trying to build. The children needed it, the adults wanted it. But he didn’t care about the opinions of the people he was supposed to represent to the government. He did whatever he wanted without regard to others.
“I’m not starting any trouble,” Philip said. “I don’t want him breathing down my neck 24/7, stopping in whenever just to irritate and control me. I’d rather just keep the peace and do as he asks. It’s not a big thing to remove my article. Maybe I’ll print it later on.”
“Uh-huh,” John replied in a mocking voice. “And then when he sees you went ahead and printed your boring, poorly worded article, he’ll do exactly what you think he’s going to do, regardless. You’ll never print that article, will you?” John shook his head and lifted a hand, waving it to stop Philip from responding. “Don’t bother. I know you won’t print it. I know how you are. You’re gonna give in to the old man no matter what I say.”
Philip frowned. He wasn’t known as a confrontational man. He was peaceful, kind, and generous. Right now, he was a little irritated, maybe even angry. He tried not to think about the mayor saying he was a poor author. He wasn’t. He was quite good, from what he’d heard.
He pulled in a breath and let it out loudly. “What do you want from me, John? Exactly what do you want from me?”
Chapter 5
Philip waved John into the room. “You boys clear on out of here now,” he said loudly, sweeping his eyes around the room to the remaining four boys stuffing papers into their bags as carefully as possible so they could carry a lot but not damage any of them. A bag full of damaged papers wouldn’t sell, and would ultimately cost both the paperboy and Philip a lot of money.
The boys hurried to get as many extra papers as they could and went through the door, giving the two men worried looks. Philip wondered why they looked that way. Did they think he and John would get into a fist fight? Or worse yet, a gun fight?
He went past John, who watched him as he closed the door. Philip turned back and leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m having a lot of trouble, John, I gotta tell you.” He looked down at his feet and crossed his ankles. “I don’t want to keep putting all this burden on you. I can’t afford to pay you more than I already do and you’re doing twice the work you should be doing.”
His Rainbow After the Rain Page 3