Back in February of 2015 I posted a short story that I wrote as my first assignment for one of my courses in Children's Literature. I've been wanting to revisit that story for a long while, but not to rewrite it and make it cleaner. No, my goal was to revisit the characters and see where Zack and Chloe wound up eleven (11) years after I originally wrote the story. But the big draw for me was to see how my writing has grown and how my voice has matured.
So, first things first, you can read the original story HERE. When you've finished that, continue on down below for the continuation. And don't forget to enjoy!
~~
“Welcome to the Daily Memo, kid,” His hand was gripped
tightly by a gravelly voiced gentleman, balding and smelling like stale cigars.
“Follow Myra and she’ll get you acquainted with the other interns.”
Zack felt his face redden as he
stammered “Yes, sir. Thank, you sir.” but the man was already turning away,
distracted by the events in the newsroom, and Zack was being led to the
elevator by a tall, slim lady who could only be Myra.
The ride down the elevator was
deathly silent, Myra inspected her professionally manicured nails while Zack
fidgeted uneasily. Nervous couldn’t begin to define how he was feeling. He
wanted to be sick and felt a little faint, but he always felt like that when he
was uncomfortably nervous. Or he though he was going to get in trouble. It was
his coping mechanism.
The doors
opened to a large room filled with desks, filing cabinets, old newspapers, and
stacks upon stacks upon stacks of loose paper. The room was dimly lit, darkly
coloured, and smelled of dust, must, and felt slightly damp. He was mentally
rejoicing in it compared to the tomb-like feel of the elevator.
“Look what
the princess has brought us now,” the
voice emphasized ‘princess’ with so much sarcasm that Zack actually flinched
with the word as he stepped out of the elevator. “Fresh meat.”
For Myra’s
part, she sneered at the speaker and flipped the bird, holding it until the
elevator doors closed with finality. Zack took a couple of steps into the room
and found himself next to a dark haired girl not much older than he was. She
glared at the elevator doors for a moment, painting herself as the speaker.
“She’s a
bitch. She thinks she’s so far above us, working as a secretary for the editor.
But she’s not. We’re gonna be reporters someday.” She finally turned to him and
smiled, her blue eyes standing in stark contrast with her dark hair. She took
his hand in a grip that was nearly as strong as the guy upstairs. “Laura of the
interns, at your service.” She mock bowed to him as she spoke.
“Zack, of
–“
“Butt-fuck
nowhere Alberta. We were told all about you.” She looked him up and down with a
smirk and a critical eye. He found himself blushing under her scrutiny. She
noticed. “Take it easy, Farm Boy. We don’t bite.” She put her arm around his
shoulders and led him to the desks.
The
introductions were short and to the point. There was Jonathan, who reminded
Zack of a weasel. Beady eyes and a skittishness very similar to the animal;
Francine, with her caramel coloured skin and frizzy hair; Josephine, her blonde
hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and glasses that kept sliding down her
nose; and Geoffrey, who generally didn’t go any further past his desk than he
had to and had a slight dusting of grey through his dark hair. They were, as
Laura stated, The Misfits. And he was
one of them.
“Why The Misfits?” Zack asked on his fourth
day of employment. He was cataloguing newspaper archives with Laura, though he
was pretty sure that the newspapers didn’t need cataloguing. They looked like
they had been done numerous times before.
“Because
that’s what we are, Farm Boy,” Laura eyed him from above her computer screen.
“Why do you think we’re down here and not up there learning how to be
reporters?”
“I just
figured it was because this is how we all start…” Zack trailed off and narrowed
his eyes at her. “This isn’t really how we start off as reporters, is it.”
“No, it’s
not. We’re here because we’re not fit to be up with the real news people.” Laura
stood and grabbed his arm, drawing him farther away from the others. “See
Geoffrey there?” Laura gestured to the salt-and-pepper man tirelessly plugging
away at his computer keyboard. She continued when Zack nodded. “He was up
there. He was one of them. Rumour has it that he uncovered something while on a
story and the top decided to bury it. Geoff was sent down here quicker than you
could snap your fingers. Whatever happened has completely broken his spirit.”
Zack looked closer and noticed Geoff’s hooded and hollow eyes. Zack shivered.
“But what
abo—“
“And look
at Jonathan. It’s cruel of me to say, but he doesn’t look trustworthy. All he
wants to do is report the news, but he kind of looks like a rat.”
“I thought
weasel…”
“Fact still
stands. Who would want to be questioned by Jonathan?”
“Well, what
about Josephine and Francine? They’re both attractive enough and wouldn’t
suffer from the same thing that Jonathan has to put up with.”
Laura gave
Zack a sidelong glance with a bit of a smirk. “Fancying one of them, Farm Boy?”
Zack blushed under her gaze. “Francine doesn’t talk much about what sent her
down here. I think there’s some embarrassment there, but I’m not going to push.
Josie is much too shy to do or say anything. And she would worry about hurting
someone’s feelings if she had to write an article about anyone in a negative
light.”
“Why are
you down here Laura? For that matter, why am I down here? I just got the job.”
Zack thrust his hands into his pants pockets and toed his foot along the
ground.
“You’re
here, Farm Boy, because you’re just that. A farm boy. You’re an unknown quantity
who just decided to relocate from the prairies to Big City Toronto. It makes
people uneasy. You’ve gotta prove yourself before you make it to the big
leagues.” She turned to walk back to her desk, but Zack stopped her with a hand
around her arm. There was a slight look of shock in her eye before another one
of her grins.
“You didn’t
tell me why you’re down here, Laura of the Interns.”
Her grin
widened. “I’m down here because I’m too inquisitive for my own good.” She winked
and returned to her work leaving Zack to blink at her back.
“Hey, Farm
Boy. We’re heading for drinks. You in?” Francine was leaning up against Josie’s
desk with her arms crossed, staring at Zack waiting for an answer. Work was
finished for the day and the weekend was starting. Apparently ‘Farm Boy’ was
his new nickname and he didn’t think he would lose it anytime soon.
“Sorry
France, I can’t tonight. I’ve got plans.” The next thing Zack knew, he had the
entirety of The Misfits surrounding
his desk.
“A date?”
Francine leaned closer, a hungry look in her eyes.
“Obviously
a date. Sure didn’t take him long. Who’s the unfortunate lady?” Jonathan
wheeled his chair in close to Zack’s desk.
“Well have
fun tonight, then.” Josie blushed behind her glasses.
Geoff
loosened his tie. He was the only one of The
Misfits to wear a tie, even though his clothes weren’t pressed and
polished. He looked like the embodiment of a reporter. Or a hardboiled
detective from television. “Everyone needs to blow their stress sometimes. I
prefer a nice drink. Farm Boy must prefer more cultured distractions.”
“How
cultured can you get on a farm?” Laura mocked. “’Slop for the pigs!’, ‘Cud for
the cows’, ‘Milk the horses!’, and so on and so forth. Ain’t that right Farm
Boy?”
Zack tried,
albeit unsuccessfully, not to cringe at Laura’s inaccurate portrayal of
existence on a farm. “Actually, I do have a date,” Francine leaned in even
closer, her nearness and hunger causing his cheeks to flush. “Well, it’s not a
date. Maybe it’s a date? It could be a date. But it’s not really a date… Is it
hot in here?”
Jonathan’s
beady eyes narrowed and his nose scrunched up in the most weasel-ish grin that
Zack had ever seen. He was almost certain he wasn’t just imagining whiskers and
buckteeth appear on his coworker’s face. “Sounds like Farm Boy’s got some
hopeful ideas in his head.”
“She’s just
a friend,” Zack protested in defense. “A friend from back home.” His blush, he
knew, had nothing to do with the proximity that Francine had positioned her
body. “As much as I’d love to banter with you guys all night, I’ve really gotta
go.” He gathered his jacket and made his way to the elevator.
“Well if
you change your mind,” Francine called after him. “We’ll be at the Bird In The Belfry.”
Zack
stepped into the elevator, which had the overpowering smell of Myra’s perfume
lingering in the enclosed space, and turned to press the button to take him to
the lobby. He glanced up and, before the doors closed, noticed Laura. One elbow
was nestled into her hand while the other hand stroked her chin, eyes narrowed
and watching him. Zack felt his cheeks colour again as the elevator doors
closed, sealing him in with his thoughts. “Too inquisitive for her own good is
right.” He muttered and proceeded on his way.
Zack
practically floated to the café he was to meet her at. He had been imagining
the moment since he arrived in Toronto. What he would say, how he would dress,
her reaction… Fits of fantasy took him away and he couldn’t wipe the grin off
his face. He almost walked right past the café, so entrenched was he in his
daydreaming. He bounded up the short steps to the entryway and swept inside,
ordered a coffee, and found a nice quiet table near the back. He pulled out a
notebook and casually began jotting notes, hoping that with enough practice he
would be able to prove himself in the newsroom and move out of the archives at
the paper. He was so engrossed in his note taking that he didn’t notice when
his companion showed up to his table.
“Zack? Oh
my god, it’s been so long!” He looked up and he almost didn’t recognize her.
Chloe had changed. A lot. He stood up and they hugged. He was the first to let
go. Her once golden blonde hair was now a mish-mash of pinks, blues, purples,
and black. A collar with a bell attached surrounded her neck, making Zack think
of a house cat, and her clothes seemed to be all punk rock and greaser. But
what disturbed him the most was the trail of scars trailing up her arm as she
engulfed him in a hug. She was cutting herself, it seemed. “Sorry we’re late.”
“We?” Zack
repeated, though Chloe didn’t seem to notice.
“It was
such a pain to even get T to agree to come. He gets awfully jealous when I talk
to people.” She motioned to a very large, very bald gentleman behind her
glowering away. ‘Gentleman’, however, was not the term that Zack would be
inclined to use, but he wanted to give Chloe the benefit of the doubt.
“Tee? As in
the letter ‘T’? Or is it Tea? Tee?” Zack was beginning to realize that the visit
wasn’t going to go the way that he had imagined. A lump was welling up in his
throat, much like the one that threatened to choke him when he watched her
leave on a train seven years prior.
“Jeez,
Zack. Don’t be such a bagger,” Chloe scolded him. “It’s T. My boyfriend.” The
duo sat down at Zack’s table and he quickly pocketed his notebook. T, Zack
deduced, was definitely a juicer. His shoulders were as wide as he was tall and
he had no neck to speak of. What little neck he did have was covered in tattoos, along with his arms, fingers, and
Zack wouldn’t be surprised if his palms were tattooed as well.
“Uhh… Don’t
you want something to drink? Like a hot chocolate or something?” Zack asked,
trying to piece everything together in his head. Wait… Boyfriend?
“Hot
chocolate? Gawd, I haven’t had one of those in for ever.” Chloe grimaced. She
pronounced the words ‘for’ and ‘ever’ separately, almost like one of the girls
from their school back home. The ones that really didn’t like either of them.
“Besides, T says we can’t stay long. He’s got a thing later on.”
“Oh… okay,
I guess,” Zack stammered. “I was just hoping that we could catch up and
everything…” He petered off as T stood up.
“C’mon,
babe,” T’s voice was almost high-pitched, yet gravelly. An Oxymoron if Zack had
ever thought of one. “Ditch this bagger, and let’s get out of here.”
Chloe
looked away from T and turned apologetic eyes to Zack. He was relieved to note
that they were still blue, but had a glazed look to them instead of the
mischievous gleam he was used to. “I’m so sorry, Zack,” she said, getting up
and backing away from the table. “But I have to go. We’ll catch up soon though,
I promise.” She was almost out the door when she called back to him. “I’ll call
you!” He highly doubted it.
In the ensuing
silence, Zack was left to piece together his disappointing, awkward, and very
brief reunion with the love of his life. Yes,
Zack thought, a lot has changed. He
bitterly finished the last of his coffee and with unshed tears clouding his
vision he stepped out on to the street.
He wandered
aimlessly up and down streets without any thought to where he was going. His
attempts to clear his head failed, but he tried nonetheless. He was surprised
to see that the fall dusk had turned to a crisp night when he finally did look
up.
The smell
of cigarette smoke, sounds of dozens of people talking at once and rock music
on speakers, and the sight of several people milling about smoking heralded a
pub in the vicinity.
“What the
hell,” Zack said to himself. “I could use a drink.” He grimaced to himself. “A
strong one.” He stepped into the pub without even looking at which one. It was
the Bird In The Belfry.
Zack had
done two shots of Irish Whisky and half a pint of a bitter ale when he heard a
familiar voice calling across the bar.
“Hey! Farm
Boy!” Zack turned to the sound of the voice. Surrounding the pool table and
dartboards were The Misfits. Jonathan
quickly waved him over and Zack complied, relocating his pint to join his
coworkers. “I thought you had a date. Or it wasn’t a date. Or it was.”
Jonathan’s weasel-like features made his good-natured ribbing seem almost
sinister.
“I did. It
didn’t go well.”
“Oh?”
Francine sidled up to him, getting closer than she would dare at the office. “No
details?” She grinned and nudged him with her elbow.
“I’d really
rather not talk about it.” He replied. He really, really didn’t want to mention
it at all. He finished the rest of his beer in one quick gulp. The others
seemed to take the hint and didn’t press again.
Laura
clapped, bringing all attention to her and Zack was silently thankful to her.
“Well, now we’re the perfect number for three-on-three at darts. No need to
take turns between darts and pool now.”
Geoff
protested. “Hey, I was fine with playing pool.” His tie was still around his
neck, but casually loosened even more than when he had left the office and Zack
wondered if it would interfere with him at the pool table.
“That’s
because you’re a shark and we all already owe you a drink,” Josephine spoke up.
Shocked glances were turned her way. No one was used to meek Josephine speaking
out like that. She blushed and tried to hide behind her glasses. “Uhmm… Sorry…
I mean…” she stammered and never finished her thought.
Geoff, for
his part feigned injury and placed a hand over his heart. “My lady, you wound
me. I would never–“
“Save it
for the theatre,” Laura cut him off. “It’s three-on-three darts. But first we
need a round of shots and drinks.”
By the end
of the night, Zack was feeling much better. Or worse. He didn’t remember. He
had more to drink than he was anticipating, and he recalled having a thought
that he probably should have eaten something after the café.
Francine,
for her part, was always quick on making sure that Zack had a drink in his
hand. There was a hungry look in her eye, or Zack had thought, and he noticed
that she gradually got closer and closer to him as the night wore on. Or he
thought he noticed it. He wasn’t quite sure what he noticed and what he didn’t.
It was all so fuzzy.
When two
o’clock rolled around and all the drinks were drank and it was time to go, Zack
was stumbling out through the door. Francine leaned heavily on Josephine’s
shoulder as they made it out and into a cab with Jonathan, who by then looked
more like a drowned rat than a weasel. Zack laughed to himself at that thought.
Geoff, for his part decided to walk back to his apartment. Apparently he didn’t
live too far from the pub.
“Where do
you live, Farm Boy?”
“Huh?” His
vision swam as he turned his head to look at Laura.
“Where do you live?” she repeated
her question.
“I, uh… I don’t know?” he
slurred. “I just moved here.”
Laura pinched the bridge of her
nose and sighed. “Well I guess you can sleep on my couch then.” She hailed a
cab. “Just no funny business, got it? My place isn’t the hay loft in your barn
back home.”
Laura’s apartment was cozy and
comfortable. But Zack didn’t notice any of it. He stood awkwardly swaying in
the middle of her living room as she placed blankets and a pillow on her couch.
He startled her when he spoke.
“She changed,” he mumbled. “I had
everything planned out, but she changed.”
“What are you talking about?” she
sat him on the couch.
“Chloe. She’s different. I was
finally going to tell her how I feel after all these years.” He laid down and
Laura tucked him in. “But she’s not the Chloe I fell in love with. And she has
a boyfriend…” he trailed off and Laura thought maybe he had passed out. She was
heading to her room when he stopped her again.
“Laura, what’s a bagger?”
“It’s a term that idiots use when
they’re unimpressed by someone. The person isn’t even worth bagging your
groceries.” She looked at him with sympathy.
“Oh.” He was quiet for a bit.
“Laura?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for taking care of me.”
Zack wasn’t sure, and he definitely wouldn’t remember in the morning and if he
did she would deny ever saying it, but she surprised him with her response.
“That’s what friends are for,
Farm Boy.”
~~
And there you have it. I'm curious to hear what people think of it. What did you like? What didn't you? What did I do well? What do I need to work on? I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Sinceriously,
-Chad
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