The office was wide open with several desks placed at haphazard angles. A closed door at the back had a nameplate that said Editor and another in the corner was a restroom. The opposite corner housed a kitchenette, with a mini-fridge and a coffee maker on the counter. Framed copies of the Tribune decorated the walls and most of them were slightly crooked.
A woman with a gray pixie cut looked up from her laptop and smiled. She was the only other person in the office. One desk was completely empty and, although the other one had a desktop computer and a few odds and ends, no one was sitting there.
“Hi.” She stood. “You must be Audrey. I’m Sandra O’Neal.”
“Yes, hi.” I walked in with my hand outstretched. “Audrey Young.”
Sandra took my hand and shook. She was dressed in a black shirt and khakis—more casual than what I was wearing, so I was glad I hadn’t opted for a suit jacket.
“Nice to meet you. Lou’s in his office.” She gestured to one of the desks. “Ledger, the useless intern, sits there. He’s not here yet, obviously.”
“I’m sorry, did you say useless intern?”
“Don’t worry, I call him that to his face.” She pointed to the empty desk. “You can have that one. Unless you like Ledger’s better. We could move his stuff, he probably wouldn’t even notice.”
“Oh, no, this is fine.”
“Great.” Her smile faded as she turned her attention to Lou’s office and raised her voice. “Lou! The new girl’s here.”
She paused, as if listening, but I didn’t hear a reply.
“I’m sure he’ll be out in a minute. You can get settled. I’d show you around, but there’s not much to show. We’re a pretty small operation. Do you have your own laptop?” She glanced around. “We probably have an extra one around here somewhere but if we do, it’s a piece of garbage. I recommend using your own.”
“I have my own.” I put my bag down on the empty metal desk. It had seen better days. The bottom drawer was dented—I doubted it would open—and there were rust-ringed dings on the legs.
But it was fine. I was here for a paycheck, not for luxurious surroundings.
The front door opened and a lanky guy with a brown mullet and an attempt at a mustache came in. He wore a faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt, skinny jeans, and a thin maroon scarf around his neck.
“Ah, Ledger, you decided to grace us with your presence today,” Sandra said. “This is the new girl, Audrey.”
“Hey.” Ledger barely glanced my direction before dropping into his chair. His phone seemed to appear out of nowhere and he leaned back, already scrolling.
“See?” Sandra gestured toward him. “That’s why I call him the useless intern. He doesn’t do much.”
He glared at her over the top of his phone. “I do work.”
“Since when?”
“I did research for an article.”
“That was a month ago.”
He shook his head, his attention still on his phone. “You guys need to check your expectations. I have a lot of homework.”
“It’s summer break.”
“Yeah, and I deserve a break.”
Sandra met my eyes and shrugged. “He surprises us once in a while but mostly he just sits there. Lou doesn’t care because he’s an intern and we aren’t paying him.”
I slowly lowered myself into my chair. “Okay…”
“We’re probably not making the best impression, but what can I say? We’re a small-town newspaper trying to survive in a post-newspaper era. You’ve got Lou, who’s been here forever and won’t let the thing die. Then there’s me, who thought it would be fun to get a job a few years ago since my kids had to go and grow up on me. And Ledger, here, who’s been working on his journalism degree over at Tilikum College for what, six years?”
“Five and a half,” he said.
“As you can see, we’re desperately in need of someone like you.”
“What is my role supposed to be, exactly?” I asked. “Lou wasn’t very specific.”
“Well,” Sandra said and hesitated, like she had to think about it first. “I handle announcements—weddings, babies, obits. I also do the copy editing and proofreading, plus the bookkeeping and other administrative stuff. Lou oversees things from an editorial standpoint and spends most of his time trying to convince advertisers to pay us. Ledger doesn’t do much, so that leaves you with– pretty much everything else.”
I blinked a few times. “Everything else?”
She smiled. “Don’t worry, our readership isn’t picky. Do you have a camera? We definitely have one lying around here somewhere, although the camera on your phone is probably better.”
“A camera? I’m not a photographer.”
Before Sandra could reply, Lou’s door opened. He was bigger than he’d seemed during my interview—tall with a mid-section that strained the buttons on his short-sleeved shirt. I couldn’t tell if his gray stubble was intentional or if he’d just forgotten to shave this morning and although he still had some hair on his head, it was clearly thinning.
“Good, the new girl’s here.” His voice was rough as gravel. “Audrey, right?”
I stood, ready to offer my hand. “Yes, hi, it’s nice to—”
“Come in.”
He disappeared back into his office. I glanced at Sandra. She gave me an encouraging smile, so I followed Lou.
His office smelled pleasantly of paper and ink, calling to mind elementary school paper m?ché projects using torn newspaper as our medium. What had to have been some of the earliest editions of the Tribune, dating back to the early nineteen hundreds, hung on the wall in mismatched frames, and his desk was littered with stacks of paperwork and mail. Although he had a computer, a vintage typewriter sat on the console behind his chair, and somehow it looked like it fit the vibe better than any modern technology.
Lou shuffled through the mess on his desk. “I must have given Sandra your paperwork. She does the bookkeeping and payroll.”
“Oh, okay. If there’s anything else you need, let me know.”
He grabbed a folded newspaper off the top of one of his stacks and pushed it toward me. “This is last week’s edition. You can get an idea of the layout from here. It’s pretty straightforward. The local section is at the back. Not much happens around here, but we print the high school sports schedules, town events, that kind of thing. Any questions?”
I had about a hundred questions, but I wasn’t sure where to begin. “What should I... ”
His phone rang and he answered it so fast, my question was left dangling in the air. “This is Lou.”
He paused, listening, and started to shake his head. “No, no. That’s not going to work.”
I waited, trying not to fidget in my seat.
“You always do a half-page spread. You’ve been doing the half-page for twenty-five years. Why change it now?” He put his hand over the mouthpiece and gestured for me to go. “Gotta take this. Go get started.”
Get started on what?
He uncovered the phone and kept talking. “I know subscriber numbers are down but these are the times we live in. This is still a great way to reach your loyal customers.”
I got up and took the paper, then quietly left his office.
Sandra smiled. “All set?”
“Not really.” I went back to my desk and took a seat. “He got a call.”
“That’s okay. There’s always a learning curve on the first day. Not much you can do about it. I’ll help you out.”
“Thank you.” I liked Sandra already, which was a relief, because the rest of the situation had me a little confused. “He handed me last week’s paper as if that would explain my whole job. But I have to be honest, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”
“It’s a metaphor for life,” Ledger said, nodding sagely. “None of us know.”
Sandra laughed. “True enough, Ledger. Maybe you’re not always useless.”
“Told you,” he said, although he still didn’t look up from his phone.