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grandma Page 7

by William Gray


  Devin shook his head, smiling knowingly. “If I fired you, sure, you could go get a good gig somewhere else. What with the new duds on your resume and all. But do you really think you’d be given free rein somewhere else? I mean, seriously. Most dailies barely even use the wire services anymore. It’s the weeklies that have been doing well, and that’s because people like hearing about themselves. They want to see more of their kids smiling after a 4-H thing or maybe a rare football win. Whatever. Governments don’t want us poking around. And people, they honestly don’t want us poking around, either. I’m just being honest. You think people truly wanted to know what’s behind the coke and smack in every city in America? People want to go to work and come home, maybe play with their kids, watch a little tv. If they’re lucky, they’ll take a vacation once a year. They don’t want to think that the cops are bad. They don’t want to believe the person they voted for or the institutions they depend on are bad. Because that’s a way of making them feel as if THEY are bad,” he said.

  “I was wrong,” Caleb said. He smiled as Devin blinked, caught off-guard by the cryptic statement.

  “Wrong? About what?” Devin asked.

  “You do seem to have some understanding of human nature,” Caleb said.

  “What is that supposed to mean? Oh, screw it. I don’t really care. But, look, try to work with me, okay? We do have a business to run. And, unfortunately, dredging up old tweets from celebrities and telling people what famous people are eating or wearing, that’s what helps pay the bills. It sounds stupid, but a lot of people really do want to know what their alien name would be,” Devin said.

  “Fine. Just get someone else to do it. Want me to do some more reports on why my work helps bring in subscribers, too? Because, hey, people also pay to access the site. And we get a lot of grassroots donations. Think about it, Devin. Every single academic institution outside of K-12, they are desperate for the type of quality content only we can provide. And government officials, they sometimes at least want to APPEAR to be making effective policy. Which means they need accurate, timely information. The more unbiased it seems, the more credibility they get when they misquote things. Okay? I’m not the business person. Nonetheless, it seems there’s more than enough room to charge a much higher rate for institutional access. Throw in some exclusive content just for colleges. We can even set up a textbook horizontal. Price books reasonably, we can undercut everyone else and still reap a good profit,” Caleb said.

  Devin took a pensive bite of his cake. Then he cleared his throat. Glancing away, he scratched his neck. Finally returning his attention back to Caleb, he smiled ruefully. When he spoke, it was in a low voice. “Don’t say any of that too loud. You’ll start giving other people ideas,” he said.

  Caleb laughed. “Oh, NOW I have leverage. Now that you know I know how the game works…”

  “Don’t be too confident, Caleb. Having leverage isn’t always all it’s cracked up to be. Seriously. Look, I’ll give you as much free rein as I can, okay? But, really, don’t let it backfire. And, for the love of God, Caleb, you can’t go around convincing everyone around here to start acting like you. It’ll mess everything up and get us all shit-canned,” Devin said.

  Reaching out, Caleb patted the cynical, overweight editor on the flabby arm. “I’m so glad you’re happy for me. Hey, quick question: how can I do my job effectively and NOT have blowback? I mean, seriously. It’s crazy to even suggest that. You only know I’m on the right track when people start trying to pull ad revenue or threatening to kill me. Even more so when they actually start TRYING to kill me. That’s why you’re eating that wonderful cake right now, Devin. Because I did something no one else would. The truth is out there. It’s just waiting for someone brave enough to go out and report it,” he said.

  “God, you’re… look, save the commencement address, kid. Okay? Spare me the platitudes. I don’t care what you have to tell yourself to get to sleep at night. Just keep bringing in the big prizes if you want to do, well, whatever it is you do. Capisce? Otherwise, I will put you on clickbait duty, like every other senior writer,” Devin said. Then he sighed and shook his head. “Jesus H. Christ, Caleb. Everyone else, they LOVE the idea. You get promoted, you do less work for more money. That’s kind of the bargain. That’s THE POINT of getting promoted, right?” he asked, throwing his hands in the air.

  “That what you did, boss? Work your way up to do less and make more? Because that bald patch up there, it seems to say that maybe you still like the job,” Caleb said.

  Reaching up, Devin patted his head self-consciously. “Hey, you leave my hair out of this. You lucky little scumbag. Just be glad I got you a paid ticket and lodging to New York, you ungrateful son of a bitch,” he said.

  “Wait, what now?” Caleb asked, his interest suddenly piqued.

  “Yeah, now you’re listening. I should’ve known it was a bad idea to throw my neck on the line for you. But, you know, I actually kind of like you. And I respect the Hell out of your ability and instincts, Caleb. It’s not just bravery. There are expats all over Puerto Vallarta. Jalisco is one of the commercial hubs of Mexico, and not just because of the cartels. Guadalajara is the second-largest metro area in the country, Caleb. Journalists and others go there all the time. How many people ever get to see someone like El Menche? Not even most cartel members ever get to see people like that. Do you realize the man is credited with having Guzman’s kids kidnapped? No, in order to tell the story you did, it took a lot of skill and patience. Entire villages get dumped off on the side of a desert highway for trying to ask too many questions,” Devin said.

  “I won’t act like this very often. But, look, the truth is, I’m actually a fan of yours. I couldn’t do what you did. So, THAT is why I’m keen to let you have some leeway. I could give a fuck less about the prizes. But you hit on something a second ago. I wouldn’t put in seventy-eighty hours a week for this job if I didn’t love it and think it’s important. I ruined TWO marriages, Caleb. I pretty much live here. My only fear is you’ll rub too many powerful people the wrong way and jeopardize everything for everyone. Okay? Basically, just try not to fuck this up. Why is that such an unreasonable thing to ask?” Devin asked.

  Caleb smirked. “It’s disturbing to think of you, all alone back there in your office, your hairy, shirtless gut just hanging out…”

  Devin shook his head. “I’m leaving. Go mingle. It may not hurt to actually interact with your fellow co-workers,” he said. Then he casually strolled away.

  Almost immediately, Maria re-appeared. She wrinkled her nose and pinched it. “Is his cheap Coolwater cologne and body funk still lingering? What about the rank cynicism?” she asked, her tone humorously modulated.

  “I think you’re good,” Caleb said, having another bite of his cake.

  Chapter 8

  “I have a problem,” Caleb said.

  Maria’s eyes lit up at the prospect of drama. She leaned forward, eager anticipation evident in her face.

  “But this is very hush-hush. Definitely going to have to keep it a secret,” Caleb said.

  “Oh, now, you can’t do that. Nun-uh. Nope. That’s not how any of this works. You can’t expect me to promise to keep a secret before I even know what the secret is. How is that supposed to work? Really?” Maria asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Caleb smiled. “Well, this time, yes, you do have to do that. That is, if you want me to confide in you,” he said. “It’s pretty good,” he added, just to try and entice her further.

  Maria shook her head. Pausing, she looked away, then blew out and exasperated gush of air. “Okay, fine. But if it’s anything too heinous, I’m reneging automatically. Don’t get all crazy and admit you’re a furry or like dressing up as an infant during happy time with Jenny over there. A coke habit, I might be able to handle. But if you’re locking little kids in basements for politicians or something, nah, homie. Not my thing,” she said.

  “And you said Devin was cynical?�
�� Caleb asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling incredulously. “Jeez, you went straight there. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. Just right into pedophile cults and strange kinks,” he said.

  Maria shrugged, unapologetic. “You’ve lived in Portland a while. Do you blame me?” she asked.

  Caleb nodded his head at an angle, conceding with the gesture that the woman had a valid point. Portland tended to cherish the reputation it had earned for harboring weirdos. “Deal. I promise, no kids in basements. Well, not my basement. Hell, I don’t even have a basement. I barely even have a room to myself, between the damn bird and my cat,” he said.

  “How is Hunter, anyway? She’s such a cute cat,” Maria said.

  “Yeah, well, do you want her? I mean, really? I’ll even pay you to take her,” Caleb said.

  “PLEASE. You know you couldn’t get by without her. She’s your ride-or-die,” Maria said.

  Caleb smiled. He blushed. Shrugging his shoulders, he nodded. “It’s the fish breath. There’s just something about having that in my face at 3 in the morning. ESPECIALLY on those nights when I didn’t even go to bed until 2,” he said.

  “Okay, well, people are starting to wonder about why you haven’t addressed the crowd. People have jobs to do. And I have a deadline on an actual story. So, out with it,” Maria said, motioning with one hand.

  Glancing around surreptitiously, Caleb tried to make sure no one was in immediate earshot. Licking his lips, he paused before speaking, trying to find the right words. “So, uh, here’s the deal. You did that story on that World War 2 veteran, right? The one where the two kids beat up that old man and robbed him?” he asked.

  “Yeahhhhhh. Poor guy. Arnold, his name was. He ended up dying two weeks later. They didn’t want to charge the kids for murder, even though they almost always do in such circumstances. My story hit just in time. Went to press and,” Maria snapped her fingers. “Just like that, murder one. And they even charged one of the little shits as an adult. Trey’s family still manages to send me death threats about once a month. I even saw his mom once. She noticed me and about flew off the handle. But, honey, I’m Mexican to my bones. One look into these hazel eyes and mama decided she didn’t want none of these hands,” she said.

  Smirking, Caleb imagined the scene. Then he shook his head. He reminded himself that he needed to get moving. “Okay, well, so… look, this isn’t easy for me, as I’m sure you can tell. Anyway, I’ll just spit it out. My grandma, she’s dying. And she hit me with a real doozy. As if her having cancer isn’t enough. The woman raised me. Anyway, yeah, uh, she told me about her friend. Gal’s apparently being abused on the sly. But my grandma, she’s got nothing. No real evidence. Obviously, Devin shot me down when I brought it up. However, I’ve GOT to do this. I have to pursue it. It’s my grams, Maria,” he said.

  She nodded and waited for more, her eyes showing both sympathy and interest.

  “That’s the long and short of it, really. I guess I just needed to get that off my chest. But, honestly, you could probably help me. Since, you know, you’ve already dealt with something like this before,” he said.

  Maria held up a finger and smiled sharkishly. She shook her head vigorously. “Oh, no, no, no. You have got me MESSED-UP. You think you can just drag me into your bullshit? I’m not going to be an accomplice to this,” she said.

  “I’ll buy you dinner,” Caleb said, interrupting.

  Suddenly, Maria paused, moving her lips without allowing any sound to escape the asylum of her mouth. Then, slowly, a sly smile spread across her face. “What kind of dinner we talking?” she asked.

  Caleb sighed. “Brown Brothers-Harriman? Over on Bush Street?” he asked, his tone impatient.

  “The fancy steak place? Oh, you are desperate. You better be ready to throw down some of that money you just got from your big check. I’m thinkin’ appetizers, wine- a whole bottle- and filet mignon. Maybe lobster. Oh, I like this,” Maria said.

  “I can only imagine how you’ll be after just ONE drink. Much less a bottle. But if that’s what it takes. Just don’t think I’m sticking around if you get yourself arrested. Once the clothes start coming off, I’m calling you an Uber and leaving,” Caleb said.

  “Is Jenny really that good? Her braces don’t scrape you?” Maria asked.

  It took a second for it to click. And when Caleb did realize what Maria had meant, he made a disgusted face and turned away. “Jesus, Maria. That’s just… wrong,” he said.

  “Indeed, it is. Better learn to live with it. I’ve got no filter,” Maria said, smiling.

  “Well, you extracted a meal from me. Just tell me you’ll help so I can get that- THOSE- images out of my head,” Caleb said.

  “Fine. Sure,” Maria said, nodding. “There aren’t that many actual parallels between my story and yours. But, tell you what. Old trick of mine, works wonders: dig through the trash. No, seriously. Don’t scowl at me. I’m not joking this time. Really. You’ll be amazed at how much sensitive personal information places just throw away. It might take a while. You’ll have to get dirty. But, yeah. I’ve got nothing to do. My life is a barren wasteland. After I leave here, if I’m not scouring the earth for sources, I’m just playing Zelda or arguing with strangers online. Have you ever tried 4Chan? I like to hop on there and pretend to be Jewish, just to see how much shit I can stir up,” she said.

  “That’s indicative of some serious problems,” Caleb said.

  “Yep. But I can’t afford insurance. Plus, I like being crazy. How else could I do this job?” she asked.

  “Okay, all of this is very disturbing. But how about nine? I can’t take you out to dinner just yet. No check. However, I can go Dutch on drinks. I obviously won’t be able to imbibe, but I don’t care if you do. I can have a Pepsi or something. We’ll gameplan things and then go dumpster diving,” Caleb said.

  “Sounds like a date,” Maria said.

  Just then, someone Caleb didn’t even recognize, a tall man with a stylish hair cut and elegant glasses, came up and abruptly addressed him. “Hey, guy. Everyone’s waiting to hear a speech. You’re the man of the hour. Come on up and rally the crowd,” he said.

  “Uh, sure,” Caleb said.

  Chapter 9

  Caleb jumped.

  Shaking his head, he allowed a small, self-deprecating smile to spread across his lips. “Damn cats,” he muttered. He turned and watched the skinny stray feline dart away into the darkness. Then the forced himself to focus. He needed to remain alert for the task at hand.

  Treading slowly down the narrow, cluttered alley, Caleb looked around, trying to see any potential obstacles before he ran into them. Or worse. The evening stillness only served to intensify the tension he felt in that moment. Every sound carried with it an angry nuance, every fleeting movement of the shadows connoting something terrible about to happen. His legs tingled and his mind burned with anticipation as he proceeded, one step at a time, toward the large metal dumpster not more than fifty feet away.

  “What if security comes out?” Caleb whispered suddenly.

  “Fuckin’ run, dum-dum,” Maria said, the derision she felt evident in her tone. “For someone who went and took on the cartels, you sure are a pussy. Do you have any street smarts?” she asked. Then she chuckled. “Look, Caleb, the truth is, those rent-a-cops can’t do anything, anyway. They might be able to call in a trespassing or something. You know? But, really, they’re limited to observe-and-report. And no cop is going to want to come out and take that report. The guys would have to be really persistent to get any sort of resources dedicated to things. Have you seen the homelessness problem out here? People did through the trash al the time,” she said.

  “Okay, well, thanks for the lecture. Think we could be quiet while we’re doing this?” Caleb asked, his tone acerbic.

  “Hey, you’re the one who wanted help. Would you even have the balls to come out here, if not for my presence?” Maria asked.

  “Probably not,�
�� Caleb admitted, smiling wryly. “But that’s beside the point. We’re here. I don’t really want anyone seeing me. My grandma lives here, okay?” he said.

  Nodding, Maria thankfully lapsed back into silence.

  Continuing forward cautiously, Caleb wrinkled his nose as the stench of stale garbage hit him. He wanted to pause, the stink proved so offensive. Roiling his guts, the odors of rancid meat and wet paper mixed to form a peculiar, noisome cloud that threatened to take his breath away. Covering his mouth with a gloved fist, he coughed. “Ugh,” he muttered. “We have to go in that,” he said.

  “Correction, YOU have to go in that,” Maria said.

  “What? I thought you were here to help,” Caleb said.

  “I AM helping. I’m providing moral support,” Maria said.

  “Oh, my god. Why did I ever decide to involve you in this?” Caleb asked. Then he grunted. “It’s a rhetorical question. No response needed,” he said.

  Approaching the source of the sour smell, Caleb steeled himself for the unpleasant task at hand. He gulped in air, turning his head away from the metal can, then gritted his teeth and set to work. “I’m going to just flip the top and climb in. I might need a hand out. What am I looking for, again? We don’t have the space to cart all the bags away,” he said.

  “Well, avoid the red biohazard bags,” Maria said.

  “Thanks for the sarcasm, Maria. PLEASE, just get on with it,” Caleb said, fighting the urge to express his annoyance with his companion in even more ardent terms.

  “Okay, well, we went over this. But, as a reminder, look for anything that seems to be mostly paper. A lot of it will probably be stupid invoices, stuff like that. Maybe some medical files and the like. But we’re looking for documents. Right? We might even get lucky and at least get some personnel info. That’d help, because I SURE don’t want to go on a B-and-E run with you, Mr. Nerves. You think you’re acting scared now? Just wait until we start breaking into places, babe,” Maria said.

 

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