by A. R. Licht
She remembered how to use the controls but made a few mistakes at first. Locating the footage
wasn’t easy, but she managed, bringing them back to the room and queuing them up.
Last time she was watching herself, learning from mistakes. This time she watched the
background, looking for anything odd that stood out to her.
“Knock, knock.”
Kate startled awake. She had been drooling on the counter, her head on her arms. She looked up
to see an unfamiliar face.
“Jack wants to see you.”
“What time is it?” Kate asked, stretching.
“Seven.”
The face disappeared. She put away the footage, keeping only the one she’d spliced together and had made a copy of to take to Jack. She hadn’t meant to sleep more than twenty minutes. Apparently, she’d slept two hours.
Jack was waiting for her sitting behind his desk. He was on the phone but gestured for her to sit.
She opened her laptop and brought up the Facebook pages.
He hung up and came around the desk to sit next to her. She position the laptop between them.
“I’m sending you to Illinois this afternoon.”
“Okay, good, I was getting restless.”
“What’s this?”
She showed him her discovery from Alkin. Then she set the flash drive on his desk with the
footage. “I think we might have a story here, Jack. Something no one else has thought of.”
“No.”
“But, you haven’t heard the best part yet.”
“No, Kate. That story is done. Get your butt to Illinois.”
“But-“
“No. Now go.”
Reluctant, she took the computer and the flash drive. She intended to put the drive back but
didn’t feel like giving it up. Besides, who would know she had it?
Chapter 11
Moline, Illinois - April 13th
Out in the industrial complex along the Mississippi River, just on the outskirts of Moline,
Illinois, Kate was surprised to see that the strike wasn’t anything like what she'd seen in movies.
The fictionalized versions showed highly charged drama, picketers jockeying to be heard and
seen. A large group of people assembled, angry, shouting. Injustices within power-plays, the corporate giant against the little people.
What she saw instead was a peaceful group of people that numbered into the hundreds, milling
about, talking and laughing under tents. Food stations had been set up buffet style. She saw a
few old-duffers cooking hot dogs and drinking bottled water.
There were a handful of people sitting in lawn chairs holding signs, but otherwise, it was a picnic in the parking lot.
There weren’t many news crews hanging around, Sienna certainly wasn’t there. Even though
Jack didn’t like her, the woman had tricks up her sleeve and Kate wanted to learn from them. The
lipstick thing didn’t strike Kate as malicious. She’d lived in a sorority house at college, she knew
the malicious type. Sienna might have high standards, and she is cutthroat, but Kate wasn’t naive
when it came to that.
She didn’t have Ann and Waylon with her, just an older guy named Casey who drove the small
van an affiliate had provided for them.
Casey rolled the van door open, revealing rows of seats within and sat on the edge in the shade.
Kate scanned the crowd. She already knew the basics so it wasn’t a fact finding mission, but
rather a talent finding mission. She needed to find a couple of people willing to talk about their
experiences. On the drive over, she had called the corporate offices for Ambassador
Motors and had been told that they are in discussions now, negotiating a new contract with the
local union.
Two older men were sitting well under the tent in the coolness of the shade. One munching on
chips from a bag, the other holding a soda.
“Hi, gentlemen,” Kate said.
They slowly turned to look at her and one smirked. “Well lookie here, ain’t she a pretty one.”
She smiled at him, “Thank you. How are you doing this fine day?”
“Fine day? I’d rather be home in my underwear watching the telly.”
“My name is Kate, what’s yours?”
“Wayne. This old coot here is Kevin.”
“Nice to meet you both.”
“Likewise. Have a seat.”
Kate took one of the fold up chairs nearby and angled it toward them. She sat on it carefully,
knowing her skirt would ride up on the back of her thighs.
“I hear they are in negotiations right now,” she said.
“Ahyup,” Wayne answered and burped.
“There’s a lady present, Wayne,” Kevin said, pointing in her direction.
Both men laughed and Kate felt uncomfortable, out of her element.
“Would you mind if I interviewed you two for a segment on ANB tonight?”
Kevin snorted, “Lady, we already been interviewed.”
“Oh. By who?”
“Some lady dressed like you. She left us her card,” Wayne said and dug through his front shirt
pocket. He found what he was looking for and held it out to Kate.
“Sienna Mathers,” Kate read.
“Ahyup. She bribed us with beer too,” Wayne said. Both men laughed heartily at that.
“What kind of beer do you like?” Kate asked, suddenly noticing that the soda in Wayne’s hand
didn’t look right. A sleeve with a popular soda logo had been placed over a Bud Light, only
noticeable because his hand had pulled the slit open.
“Oh no, lady. We can’t drink on site. We’re saving it for after, when we get what we’ve
demanded.”
“Is there anything else you guys might be interested in?” Kate said.
“Yeah, some peace and quiet,” Kevin said.
Wayne grunted his agreement.
Kate stood, put the chair back where she’d found it, “Well, I appreciate your taking the time to
talk with me. Good luck.”
“Yeah, good luck to you too.”
She tried a few other people but they either ignored her or declined. They had been picketing for
two weeks before she arrived and things were winding down now. Everyone tired, ready for it to
be over.
She sat next to Casey in thought.
“Can’t get em to talk?” Casey asked.
“Nope. Jack insisted that I get someone to talk, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to meet his
requirements.”
“Jack’s your boss?”
“Yeah. He’s not yours?”
“No, I work here in town.”
“How long you lived here?”
“My whole life.”
Kate nodded, looking at her feet. “Hey, so after a long day at work, what do you like to do?”
“Me?”
“I’m not asking you out, sorry. I’m just asking because I’m trying to think of what these guys
might be bribed with. Sienna already hit them with beer and they don’t want more.”
“Oh. Huh. I tend to go home after work. My wife left me three years ago, so my daughter comes
over, we watch sports together. Sometimes, we go see a play.”
“Sounds nice,” Kate said.
“Yeah.”
“So have you been covering the strike since the beginning?”
“I’ve come out here a few times.”
“Has it looked pretty much the same the whole time?”
“What do you mean?”
“The tents, the energy, the food they eat.”
“Um, yeah, you could say that.”
“I have an idea. Get in the van,” Kate s
aid.
“What?”
“Please.”
“I have to drive you, you know, if we go anywhere.”
“I know.”
She directed him to a pizza joint that Casey said was popular with the locals. She ordered thirty
pizzas and handed over her credit card. An hour later, they pulled up outside of Ambassador
Motors, she opened the rolling van door so every one could see what was inside.
“Free pizza to anyone willing to go on camera. It's hot, it's fresh, and it is delicious.”
Several heads turned toward her, a few people even stood, venturing closer.
The scent of marinara, cheese, veggies, and meats wafted out of the van, and judging by the
interest people were showing, they smelled it too. She opened a box, pulled out a slice and took a bite. She made a sound of pleasure. “It's so good!”
“You want us to talk on camera?”
This from a thin woman who looked about thirty.
“I only need two interviews, but everyone else can stand in the background holding signs.”
“I’ll hold a sign,” the woman said.
“Deal, pick out a box,” Kate said.
Once one was on board, twenty others joined in. Then, there were groups of three or four
checking it out, asking questions. Kate smiled.
Chapter 12
Essex, Maryland - April 15th
Abby looked beautiful in the kitchen, making spaghetti with a white sauce and scallops, and Kate
told her so.
“Just keep chopping those bell peppers, I need to add them to the sauce,” Abby said by way of thanks.
“I’ll put some in the salad too.”
“That sounds good. What about carrots?”
“You got it. Any other cravings?”
Abby laughed, “Just pickles with fried ice cream. Ugh. Now that you reminded me! Brian!”
“Yeah?” Brian’s voice came from the living room.
“Mazatlan and pickles please!”
Mazatlan was Abby’s Mexican restaurant of choice for fried ice cream. She swears they make the
best she’s ever tasted. Kate thought it was a little heavy on the coconut and whipped cream but
who was she to argue with a pregnant woman?
“Okay.”
“Isn’t he the best?” Abby said, turning back to the sauce.
“He’ll make a great daddy,” Kate said.
“He will.”
Abby rubbed the top of her belly and started to hum a song that Kate remembered their mom singing to them as kids.
“How do you remember that song? I’d completely forgotten it.”
“What song?” Abby said.
“The one you were just humming.”
“I was humming? Oh, I have to pee! Keep stirring this, please.”
Abby left, pressing the spatula into Kate’s hand. Kate stirred the sauce for a few seconds before returning to her station to finish chopping up the bell peppers.
The doorbell rang and Kate waited to hear Brian get up to answer it. It rang again and she realized that Brian must have left already. She gave the sauce a quick stir, turned down the
burner before running to answer it.
Phil had a pint of heavy whipping cream in his hand, he looked surprised to see her.
“Oh... hi,” Kate said, moving aside so he could enter.
He followed her to the kitchen and set the pint next to the stove.
“How have you been?” Phil said, moving to the other side of the counter, resting his arms on
the back of a barstool.
“Good. Just got home from Illinois. How have you been?”
Phil smiled, “Good. I haven’t been anywhere recently.”
“Are you still working for Baker House Publishing?”
“Still an editor there. I just finished with a manuscript I really enjoyed this morning.”
“Oh, good! You made it. Did you bring that thing I asked for?” Abby said, waddling into the
kitchen.
“Its next to the stove.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
“Not a problem. Where’s Brian?”
“He’s getting Abby fried ice cream and pickles,” Kate said with a grin.
“Typical pregnant woman,” Phil chuckled.
“Oh shut up,” Abby said, but she meant it in good humor.
The rest of the night felt like old times, Kate realized just how much she’d needed to feel
grounded again. They played a board game called Quelf and laughed until Abby declared she
needed to go to bed.
Kate helped to clean up, Phil hanging around until she left. He walked her out to her car, then
lingered.
“Tonight was nice.”
Kate watched him with apprehension, “Yes, it was.”
“Like it was before.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Why did we stop hanging out?”
“You know why.”
“No. I don’t.”
“It was a nice night, I really don’t want to dredge up old arguments.”
Phil looked hurt, “I never knew why we stopped talking.”
Kate reached for the car door handle, held it without opening the door. “Because... you broke my
heart, Phil.”
He was quiet for a beat, then said, “You broke mine too.”
“But I wasn’t the one who wanted to end it.”
“Well. You got me there. Have a good night, Kate. Maybe we can do this again some time.”
“Yeah. Maybe. Drive safe old man.”
“Ha! Still got those zingers.”
Kate pretended to make a muscle with her right arm, “Oh, you have no idea buddy.”
It was late when she got home, she stopped off in the lobby to check the mail. Bills, the usual
credit card offer, and an advert for the local businesses nearby.
She settled in, pouring a glass of wine, now that she wouldn’t feel guilty for drinking alcohol in
front of her sister.
Her apartment is nice by any standards, one of her favorite features are the dark hardwood
floors, and the floor to ceiling windows. The light fixtures are modern and artistic. She filled the
space with white fluffy rugs and blue sofas with chenille fabric. There is a gas fireplace under her TV which is mounted to the wall.
But, if her job goes well, she wants to buy a house close to Abby. She isn’t sure if she really
wants to spend another year in the apartment.
She sits at her desk, hits the TV remote, catching the tail end of Burt Campfy’s broadcast
from Florida. She turns on the laptop and checks the inbox.
There is an email from an unknown sender. She hovers over it, debating whether it might be a virus or something important. She ticks the box and with her finger on the track pad moves up to the delete button.
“No,” She whispered, and instead opened the email.
It is empty. Except for an attachment. She clicked the attachment and it opened in the video
player. She squints at what she is looking at. Ten seconds of paramedics talking, laughing,
then closing ambulance doors and driving away with the lights flashing.
She plays it again, enlarging the window on the screen. Four paramedics, laughing. One woman, three men. One man slaps another on the shoulder. Another has a cup of coffee in his hand. They all turn at the same time, walking to two different ambulances parked side by side, close the back doors and climb in. Both vehicles start up the strobe lights and pull away.
Kate minimizes the video to examine the email headers. Unknown Sender, sent April eleventh at
four-fifty-five p.m..
No message, no subject. She brought the video back up and watched it again. What was the
sender trying to tell her?
She examined the grainy images of the faces, t
he building behind them with a window on the first floor missing. The brick facade. The trees in the background.
“It’s the backside of the hospital!” Kate said, suddenly excited.
She realized what she was seeing. The moment the ambulances had backed up to the back of the