XXIII: In Which Xander is Called to the Office

“Alexander, I’d like to see you in my office as soon as you’re done.”  Mr. Sheffield said from behind Xander as he sat in his small half-cubicle.

“Of course, Mr. Sheffield.”  Xander said. He hoped his voice sounded calm, because inwardly he was panicking.  He’d only been working at the paper for two weeks and now the Editor of the entire paper was calling him into his office.  What did he do?

He finished aligning the text he was working on as quickly as he could and locked his computer workstation.  Standing up, he took a big swig from his coffee cup for courage, then turned and walked through the bullpen toward the door that said ‘Bertrand Sheffield, Editor in Chief’ in large letters on it’s frosted glass.

“Come in!” Mr. Sheffield called as soon as Xander knocked.  Doing as he was bid, Xander opened the door and walked into the Editor’s Office.  It wasn’t a spacious room, but not exactly cramped, either. A big mahogany desk dominated the room, with Mr.Sheffield seated in a worn leather chair behind.  The walls were decorated with shelves holding trophies and memorabilia, filing cabinets and framed front pages of the newspaper. The back wall was mostly window, looking out toward the County Courthouse.

“Have a seat.”  Sheffield beckoned.  As Xander complied, he continued.  “I understand you’ve been with us for about two weeks now?”

“Yes, sir.”  Xander hoped his voice was steady.

“And you were hired by Tony Matthews to format and optimize articles for the digital formats of the newspaper?”

“Yes, sir.” This was torture, why was he dragging this out?

“Having been here for a couple of weeks, you’ve probably gotten a good feel for the place.  Do you like working here?”

Xander couldn’t tell from his tone what Mr. Sheffield’s intent was behind the question, so he was just as honest as possible.  “Yes, sir, I do. I think I have the opportunity to learn a lot here. Everyone is very welcoming and helpful.”

“And do you find your work challenging?”

How do you even answer that question? “To be honest, no.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s a necessary job that needs to be done, but it’s dead simple when you know what you’re doing.” Was that the right thing to say?

“I appreciate honesty, Alexander.  It may be dead simple to you, especially as part of your generation, but most of the guys in the bullpen are from my generation and couldn’t make heads or tails out of what you do.”  Mr. Sheffield gave him a serious look. “Now I’m going to be honest with you.” Oh, no. Here it comes. “I received a phone call from Margurite Guillot this morning and during our conversation, she happened to mention in passing that she believes I’m under-utilizing you.”

Wait, what?

“After we hung up,” He continued, “I went ahead and looked through back-editions of the Gazette for your by-line.  You worked on the school newspaper in college didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.  All four years.”  Where was this conversation going?

“From what I found, I’d have to say I was impressed.  Your article on the proposed campus expansion on the North Side was especially thorough and concise.”

“Thank you, sir.”  Xander was slightly relieved at the course of the conversation, but still confused.

“So, to get to the point.  I’d like you to start writing for the paper as a freelancer, in addition to your regular duties.  You won’t be getting any assignments, so you’ll have to find your own stories and there’s no guarantee the paper will buy any given story, no matter how well it’s written, but you’ve got a chance to be a professional journalist.”  He held out his hand to shake. “How’s that sound?”

Xander took his hand. “That sounds great, Mr. Sheffield!”  His heart almost leapt through his chest. “I promise I won’t let you down.”

“I have a feeling you won’t.  May I make a suggestion?” Xander nodded.  “Pick one of the bands Mystik Spiral plays with and interview them for our Entertainment Section.”

“You know my band?”  Xander was taken aback.

“Son, I’m a Journalist.  I always do my research.”

Xander sat back at his desk and took a long swig from his coffee cup.  Freelancing for the newspaper! Merci beaucoup Mlle Guillot!

“What the hell is going on?”  Alex’s voice came in his head, loudly. “I was relaxing, then suddenly I’m about to have a heart attack, now you’re the happiest you’ve been all week.  My heart can’t handle all this doki doki!”