Human Collateral

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2Ryan couldn’t sleep. Deadlines always reminded him of the night before a big exam in college, one he hadn’t studied for, which then required a night of cramming to make up for his procrastination. This Sunday night was no exception. The Times was expecting his piece on the dilemma of jobs versus the environment in coal country by Friday morning no later than ten a.m.

It was actually the kind of story he loved. Opposing positions with valid arguments from each side. His trips to West Virginia had been both enlightening and disheartening. He had all the research in hand. Now the hard part: taking all of that and building a compelling essay. Most importantly, he hadn’t yet found a solution to the problems facing the coal industry. Without a solution, his essay would simply be another recounting of a seemingly hopeless stalemate between two forces whose interests never aligned. He had paced the floor for hours searching for the answer. Even though he hadn’t found one, it was time to start writing. Hopefully, the answer would somehow mystically appear.

Just as he sat down at his computer to begin, his phone rang.

“Hi, Ryan. It’s Ted.”

“What’s up, Ted?” Ryan was annoyed by the disturbance, and the tone of his voice made sure his editor knew his call was a nuisance. He was at an impasse with his essay, and the call was just another roadblock since he had just begun getting his essay down on paper.

Undeterred, Ted said, “I need a status check.” Ted wasn’t asking, he was commanding.

Ryan didn’t like the sound of that at all. “Are you worried?” he said in a rather forceful voice, which he hoped would provide cover for his uncertainty.

“Truth is, with the election behind us, we’re a little light on content this week. We really need your ‘Coal Jobs Versus the Environment’ story this week. Without fail.” Ted sounded genuinely concerned, which wasn’t like him. Normally, he resembled one of those brash newspaper editors in a 1940s film noire crime drama.

“Not to worry, you’ll have it in plenty of time. I have more than your pleadings driving me to the finish line.”

“What’s your extra motivation?” Ted asked in a much more relaxed tone.

“I’m taking a break from all this starting next Sunday.” Ryan wasn’t asking permission.

Ted started in with the where-are-you-going-when-will-you-be-back-I-have-slots-saved-for-your-next-series line of questioning.

“Ted, now you know why I’m a freelancer. I like my freedom. Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely grateful that you have published so many of my essays, but I need my time to be my own. I’ll be on break for a couple of weeks. When I’m back, I’ll call you and we can discuss another assignment. Okay?”

“Okay. But promise me you’ll have that essay to me by Friday at ten a.m.”

“I already promised you that. Goodnight, Ted.” Ryan hung up.

He wrote for another hour and then decided to get some air, stretch his legs, get something to eat, and find the elusive solution for his story. The wonderful thing about the Upper West Side of New York City was that there were so many cool places to walk to, particularly on an unseasonably warm May evening. Tonight it was the world-famous hot dog stand, Gray’s Papaya. It was about ten blocks away, which allowed him sufficient time to get good and hungry on the way. It also afforded some time on the way home to reset his mind and work off the Recession Special: two hot dogs, topped with sweet red onion relish, and a tropical juice of choice. Ryan always had the iconic pineapple juice.

After polishing off “the special,” he started home to resume the battle of the coal miners versus the environmentalists. He hadn’t made it a block before his cell phone rang again. It better not be Ted again, he thought. Thankfully, the Caller ID said it was Rebecca.

“You horny again?” Ryan teased, immediately regretting his response.

“Not anymore,” Rebecca shot back.

“Sorry, my humor suffers when I’m facing a deadline,” he said in the most sincere, apologetic tone he could muster.

“Truth be told . . .” she kidded. They both laughed. Ryan and Rebecca had a long-standing, no-strings-attached relationship. They each coveted their own unattached lifestyle, so the relationship worked. They occasionally enjoyed a meal or a concert, but mostly it was all about satisfying their libidos a couple of times a month.

Ryan never really understood what she saw in him. She was smart, funny, an accomplished actress, and an absolute knockout. He was astute enough not to question the relationship. Rebecca obviously felt the same way. It worked, and that’s all the analysis either of them needed.

“Hey,” she said, “I actually called because I need a different kind of favor from you. My agent, Tom Crowley, is having a cocktail party on Friday night and I’d like you to be my date. I hate showing up alone, and I think it might be fun. I guarantee the refreshments will be amazing.”

Considering what he had just consumed, he was sure the refreshments would be a major step forward. “My deadline is Friday morning, so a party that night sounds great to me.”

“Wonderful. Suit and tie, of course. Pick me up at seven.”

“Perfect.” Ryan finished his walk and headed upstairs to his apartment and his essay. Her invitation was just the incentive he needed to get back to work.