It was late in the morning when Sam Olson
turned his thoughts to his protégé, Johnny Holiday. He sat at his desk, looking
out the window from his office at The Star, overlooking downtown Saint
Anthony, with his view of city and its copper spires, tall and green and patinated
copper-spires.
Sam was wondering how Johnny had gotten along
with Colonel Forrester.
He was worried.
He looked at his watch and figured that the
interview would be over by now; he wondered what kind of arrangements the
Colonel had made for Johhny, and what kind of a deal Johnny had struck for
himself.
Doing work for the Colonel could be lucrative,
Sam knew it from experience. He also knew that refusing the old man could be
dangerous, even deadly. So, in his heart he wondered if he should have tried
harder to steer Johnny away from the old man.
Colonel Forrester was a relic, he played by an
inscrutable set of rules, he had perilous interests and surrounded himself with
dangerous men.
Sam was fond of Johnny, he had known him for
the better part of the boy’s life, watched him grow up at The Star,
learning every job there was to do in the newsroom, in sales and in production.
He had told
Johnny that he recommended him to Colonel Forrester for a writing assignment
that called for first class prose.
That was his hook, along with the promise of and
the young man bit.
The promise of being paid and earning extra
was also persuasive.
Johnny wrote beautifully, of that there was no
doubt, but Sam knew a half-dozen more experienced writers he would have
preferred to recommend to the Colonel, that is…if the only qualification for
the job was beautiful prose.
The Colonel called him, he said he wanted a recommendation,
but then he asked for Johnny by name. All he really wanted from Sam’s was assessment
of qualities and the skills he possessed that would recommend him for a
position with Forrester estate.
Sam understood that what the Colonel was actually
doing, was inquiring of Sam if there was some reason that he should not offer
Johnny the assignment.
Sam told him Johnny was a good kid, solid and
trustworthy…streetwise and tough.
The Colonel informed Sam that he would
appreciate it if Johnny came to the mansion for an interview. Without saying so,
the old man informed Sam that he would expect him to encourage the lad, to
clear the way for Johnny to accept the offer…to ensure it…in effect.
The Colonel’s motives were labyrinthine, his
manipulations of events in Saint Anthony turned like wheels within wheels; Sam
had come to know this, every good newspaper man had.
Now they shared a secret about Johnny Holiday,
and Sam knew that his friendship with the guy he had looked after for
years…like a kid brother or a son, had now become corrupted.
The Colonel had corrupted his friendship.
Sam stared out the window watching the black
clouds approach, telling himself that no harm would come from recommending
Johnny to the Colonel, he set aside all future questions he might have for
himself, and turned his thoughts to what Johnny’s assignment entailed.
He sipped his coffee and turned his back on
the city, digging into the stack of paper pilling up on his desk.
He had work to do, he had stories to read.
Johnny would be okay. Sam told himself. The Colonel probably just
wants the handsome kid to date one of his daughters. He might be in for
some harmless fun with a leading debutant, and or the unlucky-in-love, twice
married, once divorced, older daughter whose husband had recently left her.
Buy
Now on Amazon
