by Irene Hannon
“Maybe that’s what caught David’s attention, too.”
Her mother’s insight never failed to surprise Caroline. Despite her sometimes flighty ways, she had a keen sense of human nature. “I think you’re right.”
“You know, it must be hard on him.”
Confused, Caroline gave her mother a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“I was just thinking how alone David is. He had no one to comfort him when Michael died. Now he has no family left, he’s living in a strange new town where he probably hasn’t had much chance to make friends and he’s trying to learn a new job. You should ask him to join us sometime for our weekly dinner.”
Speechless, Caroline stared at her mother.
“Why do you look so surprised?” Judy asked. “It would be an act of Christian charity to invite him. Mentioning his name doesn’t seem to upset you, like it did a few weeks ago when I told you I’d run into him, or I wouldn’t even suggest it. And it might give you a chance to ask him about that situation with his mother, which seems to bother you.”
“It doesn’t bother me. It’s ancient history. Why should it bother me?”
“I didn’t say it should. Just that it seems to. But that’s up to you, of course. In the meantime, tell him I enjoyed his pasta salad.”
Her mother moved on to a new topic, and even though Caroline tried to keep up, thoughts of David kept disrupting her concentration. The fact was, the disagreement between the brothers did bother her, history or not. And somewhere, deep inside, she wanted to hear David’s story, sensing at some intuitive level that it might absolve him from guilt. Why that was important to her, she had no idea. In fact, if David had been right, that would mean Michael had been wrong. Why would she want to believe that? And why did it matter at this point, anyway?
There were no easy answers to those questions. Nor were they ones Caroline necessarily wanted to find. Because she had the oddest sense that if she delved deeper, if she heard David’s side of the story, she would have to rethink and reevaluate a whole lot of things. And she wasn’t sure she was ready to do that.
* * *
“This kid has talent.” Bill Baker strode into Caroline’s office without knocking, plopped Jared’s portfolio on her desk and sat in the chair across from her.
“Have a seat, Bill.” She smiled as she reached for the portfolio.
Social nuances were lost on the brusque, craggy-faced photographer. With his shaggy white hair pulled back in an elastic band, his startling blue eyes rimmed with fine lines and his standard attire of blue jeans and T-shirt, he wasn’t a typical Chronicle staff member. He didn’t waste time on office politics, and tact wasn’t his strong suit. But he had a heart of gold. Not to mention the best photographic skills in the business. The newspaper was lucky to have him.
“Do you have time to work with him if we decide to take him on?”
“I can make time. But I can’t help him much on the writing end.”
Caroline had already thought about that. And decided that she’d mentor him in writing if they proceeded. They’d lost a couple of people through attrition in the past few months, and the top brass in the parent organization had made the decision not to replace them. She couldn’t ask any of her busy staffers to take on yet another responsibility. Besides, from her conversations with David, she understood that Jared was a high risk. She wanted to give this her best shot if she decided to take him on.
“I’ll handle that. Do you have any concerns about the issues he has?” She’d already given Bill an overview of Jared’s background.
“Some. But if he’s willing to work hard, I’m willing to give him a chance.”
“Okay. I’ll set up an interview.”
Rising, Bill nodded toward the portfolio on Caroline’s desk. “I’d hate to see a talent like that go to waste. And I like challenges.” Without giving her time to respond, he exited.
As Caroline watched him leave, she hoped they wouldn’t live to regret Bill’s words. She liked challenges, too. But she had a feeling that Jared Poole was going to be a bigger challenge than either of them imagined.
* * *
What in the world had David been thinking?
Caroline stared in dismay at the young man who took his time rising when she stepped into the lobby to greet him for the interview. Jared’s low-slung pants, scuffed sneakers, muscle shirt and dreadlocks made Bill’s appearance look preppy. Tall and lanky, his complexion the color of rich café au lait, he had dark, brazen eyes that stared back at her with a bravado she suspected was more wishful than real.
But she tried to keep an open mind. If David thought Jared had the right stuff, if he was willing to take a chance and put his career on the line for this young man, Caroline at least owed him the benefit of the doubt. Summoning up a smile, she moved toward him and extended her hand.
“Jared, I’m Caroline James. Welcome to the Chronicle.”
After a brief hesitation, he rubbed his palm on his thigh, then took her hand. She thought she detected a slight tremor in his fingers, but he retrieved his hand and shoved it in his pocket before she could tell for sure.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
“Come on back to the conference room. Bill Baker, our chief photographer, is waiting.” She held her ID card to the scanner, then led the way into the newsroom. Jared followed close behind her, giving the beehive of activity around him a discreet, but interested, perusal.
At the door to the glass-walled conference room, Caroline paused. “Can I get you a soda?”
“No. Thanks.” The latter was tacked on as an afterthought.
“Okay. Then let’s get started.”
After she introduced him to Bill, they all took seats at the long table, Caroline at the head, Bill on one side, Jared on the other. Jared’s portfolio lay in the center.
For the first few minutes, Caroline kept the conversation general. But it was like pulling teeth to get the boy to open up. The writing in his portfolio and the letter David had shared with her showed a different side of Jared than he was revealing in the interview. And the attitude David had spoken of was very apparent. An attitude that screamed, “Why would you do this for me and what’s in it for you?” A kaleidoscope of emotions—suspicion, anxiety, belligerence and longing—shifted across the face of the rigid-shouldered young man sitting beside her, his hands tightly clasped on the table in front of him. She suspected he was trying to control his attitude, trying to sort through his jumbled feelings, but he was having limited success.
Since small talk wasn’t putting the boy at ease, Caroline decided to plunge right into the guts of the interview. “Okay, let’s talk about the internship, Jared. You’re here because David Sloan believes in you, and because he and I and Bill all agree that you have talent. We’re sure that if you apply yourself, you can succeed. What we’re not sure about is whether you’ll do that. If we bring you on board, we think there’s a risk. David seems convinced that it’s a risk worth taking. We need you to convince us of that, too.”
He swallowed. “I want to do this.”
“Tell us why we should give you this chance when there are a dozen other students we could take who have better grades and better attendance records.”
He swallowed again. Hard. “Look, I don’t want to spend my life in the ghetto. And this may be my best chance to get out. I’ll try hard not to disappoint anyone. I like working with words and I...I love photography. But I need help to get better at both. The kind of help I can get through Uplink.”
“Do you still have gang ties?” It was the first question Bill had asked.
“I’m working on breaking them.”
“Work harder. What about drugs? You’ll have to take a drug test to work here. Standard procedure.”
The boy stiffened. “I’m clean.”
“Good. Keep it
that way. You’ll have to do something about your clothes, too. There’s a dress code here. Not that you’d know it, looking at me.”
Jared turned to Caroline, elegant as always in a slim black skirt, silk blouse and gold necklace. “I don’t have fancy clothes.”
“You don’t need fancy clothes. Bill’s at one end of the clothes spectrum. I’m at the other. Some of that is by necessity. Bill’s work out in the field takes him to places that aren’t always conducive to nicer clothes. Jeans allow him to climb on walls, get down on the ground, do whatever it takes to get the shots he needs. The important thing to remember is that journalists or photographers never call attention to themselves. We strive to blend in. The focus should be on the subjects, and we need to do everything possible to make them feel comfortable so that we can get the best story or the best photo. We can work on the clothes, as long as you’re agreeable.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Okay. I’ll want you to do a writing test before you leave. That’s also standard practice for new hires. We’ll give you some facts, and ask you to write a story. I’ll set you up at one of the empty workstations when we’re done here. Bill, anything you want to ask about first?”
“Just a few technical things.” He pulled Jared’s portfolio toward him and flipped it open to the photo of the two shadows. “Tell me a little about this. Why you framed it this way, what kind of lighting you used, why you chose this angle.”
As the two of them discussed the photo, Caroline leaned back and observed. Jared became more animated the longer they conversed, and she saw something flicker to life in his eyes. Something she’d seen in Michael’s eyes as he talked about his work. Passion. Excitement. Conviction. It wasn’t as easy to spot in Jared. He’d learned to mask his feelings. But it was there. His eyes might be hard, but they weren’t yet calcified. Meaning there was hope for him.
When Bill was finished, Caroline settled Jared into a workstation and gave him the material for a story. Once she was sure he understood the word processing program, she stood. “Take your time. When you’re finished just knock on my door. I’m right over there.” She gestured toward her office near the back wall.
Half an hour later, Jared appeared at her door, his portfolio tucked under his arm. “I’m done.” He took a step into her office and handed over two double-spaced sheets of text.
“Great.” She scanned the first couple of lines, impressed by the lead. The piece looked promising. “That wraps it up, then. Let me walk you out.” She set the sheets on her desk and led the way to the front. If the rest of the article looked as good as the lead, she was pretty sure she was going to take him on—pending Bill’s agreement, of course. This was going to have to be a team effort.
After pushing through the door to the lobby, she turned to shake hands with the teenager. “Thanks for coming in, Jared. Bill and I appreciate your time. I’m sure David Sloan will be in touch with you soon.”
He wanted to ask more. She could read the question in his eyes. But she didn’t have an answer for him. Not yet. Besides, it wasn’t her place to tell him the outcome. However, it took all of her willpower to keep her expression placid, when she could see the yearning on his face.
“Yeah. No problem.” He returned her handshake. Then, after hesitating a moment, he swaggered to the door. As if to say, I have my pride. I don’t need you. I’m just fine on my own.
But Caroline knew otherwise. So did David. And in his heart, she suspected Jared did, too.
She just hoped he was smart enough to recognize that Uplink was the opportunity of a lifetime and to follow through on his promise to give it his best shot.
Chapter Seven
“Jared? David Sloan. You’re in.”
Several beats of silence ticked by on the other end of the line before Jared responded. “For real?”
“Yeah. For real.”
“Okay, man. That’s good.”
Although the teenager was trying to sound cool, David could hear the undercurrent of excitement in his voice. “I’ll send you an official letter, but I figured you’d want to know right away.”
“Yeah.”
“There’s a meeting for all of the participating students and their mentors from the sponsoring organizations a week from Saturday, from nine to eleven. The details are in the letter, but I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Any questions in the meantime?”
“No.”
“If you think of any, don’t hesitate to call me. We’ll look forward to having you in the program, Jared. Caroline James and Bill Baker were impressed with your talent, and they’ll both be serving as mentors for you at the Chronicle. They’ll be at the meeting.”
“Okay.” He hesitated, then tacked on a single word before breaking the connection. “Thanks.”
As David hung up, he found Ella regarding him from his office doorway, a pleased look on her face. “You took him.”
“Yes. After a lot of soul-searching. But I still think he’s a risk. I’ll be praying that he recognizes this for the fabulous opportunity it is and takes advantage of it.”
“He strikes me as a smart young man. And Caroline James impresses me as a very caring, compassionate person. Working with her, I think he’ll do fine.”
“You just met each of them one time. Do you always jump to conclusions based on first impressions?”
Shrugging, she laid some correspondence in his In basket. “Don’t discount first impressions. It doesn’t take long to pick up people’s vibes, if you listen with your heart. And kindness can produce amazing results.”
As she exited, David swiveled toward his window, his face thoughtful. The trees had now been coaxed into full and glorious bloom by the warmth of the spring sun. Though they’d looked dead and lifeless a month ago, under nurturing conditions they had flourished.
David prayed the same would be true for Jared.
* * *
The meeting room at Matejka Industries was packed with Uplink students and their mentors. Stefan Matejka, a Bosnian immigrant who was one of Uplink’s biggest supporters, had donated the use of his facilities for the orientation meeting, as he had since Uplink’s inception. Thanks to the generosity of people like him, Uplink was beginning to establish a strong foothold in the community.
As David surveyed the room, he recognized the students he’d interviewed over the past month. All had been eager, interested and grateful for the opportunity, and he could feel the excitement and electricity in the room. It was a good feeling—one he’d never experienced in his previous career. Yes, there had been satisfaction when he’d closed a deal. But once he’d walked out the door, he’d forgotten about it. It was business. His work had involved dollars, not lives. It had made no lasting contribution to society. This job, in contrast, was about people. About recognizing talent and ability, and finding ways to nurture it. It was about changing lives for the better. Most of all, it was about hope.
Once more, David scanned the crowd. Almost every seat was filled. Even the board was on hand. The expectant faces turned his way reminded him that it was time to begin. But there was one little problem.
Jared was nowhere to be seen.
When David spotted Caroline, seated with Bill about halfway back, she sent him a questioning look. He gave a slight shake of his head and lifted his shoulders. As he watched, she leaned toward Bill, said a few words then rose and made her way toward him. He met her at the side of the raised platform, and as he leaned down she spoke.
“I take it you have no idea where Jared is?”
“No.” Once more David surveyed the room, a frown marring his brow. “I knew he was a risk, but I didn’t expect him to go AWOL this soon.” Sighing, he raked his fingers through his hair. “There’s no reason for the two of you to stay if he doesn’t show.”
“Maybe he just got delayed. We’ll hang around for a while. Do you want me to try calling him?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, that would be great.” He checked his watch. “I need to get started, or I’d do it myself. Ella has all the students’ numbers with her. She’s probably still at the registration table.”
“Okay. I’ll give it a try.”
Ten minutes later, Caroline reappeared and slipped into her seat. She mouthed “no answer” when he looked her way. An hour later, at the break, David tried himself—with the same result.
“Look, I hate to waste your time,” he told Bill and Caroline before he went back to the front to resume the meeting. “If you need to take off, I understand.”
“You’ll be wrapping up in forty-five minutes. I’ll hang around,” Bill said.
“Me, too,” Caroline added. “Maybe there’s a good explanation for Jared’s absence today. If he’s still going to participate, Bill and I need to be part of this orientation.”
“All right. Thanks.”
By the time the meeting broke up, Jared had still not appeared. David was kept busy answering questions from mentors and students for another fifteen minutes. By then, the crowd had dispersed. Bill had left, but Caroline was still sitting off to one side, talking on her cell phone as Ella collected the stray printed material in the chairs and on the information table.
David approached Caroline, waiting while she finished her conversation. Then she stood, dropping her phone into her tote. “Sorry. A bit of a crisis at the Chronicle.”
“No problem. I appreciate that you and Bill stayed for the whole thing.” He shook his head. “I just can’t figure this out. Jared promised he’d be here when I spoke with him, and I thought he was sincere. Either my judgment is way off base, or something’s wrong.”
“Why don’t you try him one more time before I leave? I’m a little worried myself.”