Chapter 1

“Charlie! Charlie open up!”

                I sleepily opened my eyes not yet processing who was at my door or what they wanted. I only lay buried deep in the confolds of my blankets hoping whoever was at the door would give up and go away.

“Charlie there’s a telephone call for you, for goodness sakes get out of bed before I wake up the entire fourth floor!”

                It was Maggie, she continued to pound on the door as if her life depended on it.

“Maggie go away.”

“Charlie someone has called you 3 times already now he refuses to hang up unless he talks to you!”

“I have no business with anyone Maggie, let me sleep.”

                She continued to relentlessly pound on the door, “No amount of beauty sleep can ever fix that face Charlie, now get up so Mr. Butler stops calling!”

                That name seemed mildly familiar the more I thought of it, then it hit me, I shot out of bed and struggled to put on shoes.

“Charlie what are you doing?” Maggie asked, temporarily pausing her obnoxiously pounding to listen to me struggle with clothes and shoes.

“You said Butler? As in James Butler?” I called through the door.

“Yes, he’s been calling and asking you for you all morning!”

“What time is it?”

“Almost  9 o’clock.”

                At first I thought I was in trouble, no one would call so many times before noon asking for someone who had lied to him and tried to deceive him. but then again he wouldn’t press charges, he would just pick a different person to put in the paper.

“Charlie?”

                I burst out of my apartment and stumbled down the stair again just as I had nearly a week earlier. A few times I almost fell down the stairs I was so erratic.

“Charlie, you’re gonna hurt your leg if you fall!” I heard Maggie call from what seemed like a floor above me, I didn’t stop, I needed to hear what James Butler had to say.

                     I made it to the first floor and stepped behind the desk and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” I breathlessly stammered into the telephone.

“Is this Charlie foster?”

“Yes sir, it is. This is James Butler?”

“Yes, I’ve read your letter and while it may seem a bit unorthodox, I think it would make for a great story. I understand you are still in pursuit of your brother?”

“Yes sir.”

“And you have more of your writing from previous travels we could publish while you are away again?”

“Yes sir.”

“I think it would be a hit with the locals, would you mind coming in around noon so we can have a more formal chat?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all sir, you said noon?”

“Yes Mr. Foster.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good, I look forward to meeting you!”

“You as well Mr. Butler.” I answered as I put down the receiver.

                     Maggie stood in front of me, out of breath as I was, “you look terrible.”

                     I looked down at my clothes, true I looked like a dismantled doll that a child had tried to dress, and my hair seemed to be everywhere but on my head, but none of that seemed to matter.

“Maggie, I have a job.”

“That’s wonderful, now you can pay the rent; it’s near 2 months overdue Charlie, if it weren’t for me my parent’s would have kicked you out already.”

“You’re a good friend Maggie.” I told her as I tucked my shirt into my pants and started to press my hair down.

“So what’s the job Charlie?” she asked now curious at my sudden behavior to answer a phone.

“I am going to be a journalist.”

“I didn’t know you could write, much less read for that matter.” Maggie scoffed as she pushed me out from behind the desk, “Which unlucky paper decided to take you under their wing?”

“The Toronto World.” I answered pulling my hair back into a ponytail.

“You’ve got to be joking, you must have made a mistake; you’re probably in the assembly line.”

“Newspapers don’t have the kind of lines you’re talking about.”

“Well then you’re proof reading or putting the print together.”

“You bet I’m putting the print together.” I said, ecstatic to have even been offered a job.

“What are you going to be writing about, you don’t do anything.”

“You’ll see.”

“Charlie, all you do is sit in your room tapping away at that typewriter of yours, you couldn’t possibly have any news that they already have or would want to publish.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Maggie.”

“How?”

“They want to publish me.” I said with a smile before I turned to go back to my apartment.

                     Though Maggie didn’t seem all convinced she called, “You better buy me your fist paper Charlie!” she was then scolded for being so disruptive in the lobby.

                     I quickly shaved and got into some cleaner clothes that didn’t make me look as if I had been living on the streets. It was still rather early to leave but I was much too excited to wait until later. I ignored my empty stomach as I left the room and headed back down the stairs.

“I can’t understand anyone hiring someone who sits in their room all day doing nothing.” Maggie mumbled as I strode past her desk.

“I’ve had a job for the past two years, how else do you suppose I pay for food and rent?” I questioned.

“I don’t know, it’s just hard to imagine you working.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine you being courted in the near future.’

“Speak for yourself.” Maggie told me before picking up her book to read.

                     I couldn’t help but smile, finding pleasure in our in our many arguments of spit-fire. She would be a handful to anyone who was fool enough to try and court her.

“I’d best be on my way Maggie.”

“Good Bye Charlie.”

                     I stepped outside, the sun was shining, the streets were full of people and noises, and I felt great. While it would be a while before I made it to the Toronto World paper company, but I had time. I made my way through the maze of people, crossing streets and dodging automobiles and buggies. Eventually I did make it to the building with an hour to spare.

                     I decided to wait outside in a park across the street. Trying my best to be patient but eventually my eagerness got the best of me and I found myself walking into the building 30 minutes early.

“Toronto World Newspaper Company, do you have an appointment?” a secretary greeted as I stepped through the door.

“Yes, I’m here to see James Butler.” I told her, stepping forward.

“What is your name?”

“Charlie Foster.” I watched as she dug through a few pages laying on her desk.

“Yes, please take a seat, you’re a little early but I can check if Mr. Butler can see you now.” She stood and left through the double doors with a stack of papers in her arms.

                     I sat down and waited, suddenly nervous at what I was planning on pulling. Should I turn back? I certainly had the time? Otherwise if someone found out, things would get complicated. On one hand I needed the money and on the other I would be lying to all of Toronto. I didn’t even have time to decide which would be worth it when the doors opened and the secretary walked in followed by a man.

“Charlie Foster I presume?” the man asked.

“Yes I am.” I told him as I stood and shook his hand, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you as well Mr. Foster, come I’ll give you a tour of our building.”

                     He took me through the double doors, behind them were a few rows of desks most of which were full of men typing or writing.

“Here we have our journalists, after they get their story they come here if they prefer and write up what they have. Though, with your circumstances, you won’t have a desk seeing as how you’re still in search of your brother?”

“Yes sir, I plan to go to England next as soon as I gather the funds.” I was of course lying, but it seemed easier to follow the plot of my book rather than begin to make things up.

“You will be payed a suitable amount I assure you.” Mr. Butler informed as he led me by a few of the desks.

                     We walked down the stairs that led to a room with a giant printing press being run by many boys who looked younger than I. The room was full of noises from the machine and shouting people trying to print and get the papers together.

“As you can see, this is our printing room.” Mr. Butler shouted over the noise, “And we also have our two proof readers back there.” She pointed to the back wall full of miniature rubber words that were to be used to put into the next paper.

                     He then took me back to the first floor where the journalists were seated. In the back there were a few cubicles, one of which was labeled ‘James Butler’.  He opened the door and led me into the tiny space.

“So what did you think of our little company?”  he questioned, sitting his tall body behind his desk.

“Very impressive.” I said.

                     He studied me quizzically, “Yes impressive, much like what you wrote.” I began having repercussions of my last encounter with a man I had thought would publish my writing, and began thinking what would happen if he found out that I was lying right to his face, “I was thinking that if you made enough sales I could make your story a full column in the paper.”

“What would be until then?” I asked.

“Just another story in the paper, like what you read every day.”

“I see.”

“Now, before we can even begin printing, we’re going to have to show you how to properly write for a paper. What you do is you drown your work in too many words about things you see around you rather than what your goal is.” He paused, “While it makes your writing unique we can’t waste money on what isn’t necessary.”

                     I began to wonder if that was my ultimate downfall in why no one would publish my manuscript. I would have to go back and re-write everything, I hadn’t even been officially hired and yet I was already dreading going to work.

“There’s one thing we’ll have o discuss.” Mr. Butler informed.

“That is?”

“What if you never find your brother, how would you decide to end your work?”

                     I took a moment to contemplate how to answer, “The only way you can stop me is to kill me or bring me his body, otherwise I will keep looking until the day I die.” It had seemed like such a good line in my book but once I had said it out loud I felt like a fool.

“Normally I wouldn’t hire someone on such short notice, but seeing as how you seem motivated until the end I think we can make it work to our advantage. Many people have family and loved ones who have gone missing in action such as your brother Allen has, it would be an easily relatable subject for them to read about.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Here’s your paperwork, sign it and you’re officially hired.” He told me before laying a paper in front of me, “Just be sure to leave us with plenty of material while you are traveling, so we can continue printing, and who knows, maybe someone will have information about your brother.”

                     I took a pen and quickly signed the paper, “Alright Charlie, we need you to edit and revise your first few pages before Sunday, which gives you three days. You’re getting paid by the word, but don’t expect to fill it with useless words.” He stood and shook my hand, “We’ll be in touch Mr. Foster.”

“Thank you sir, I appreciate this opportunity.”

            I saw myself out the door hardly unable to contain myself. I finally had a job, and I finally had a job I could use my writing in. I didn't care whether or not I was lying anymore. I had decided I needed a job and I got it, rather than fearing what would happened if I were to be caught I would focus on what were to happen now that my writing would finally be published.