Part 24 (1/2)
”Nil carborundum illegitimis to you, too.”
She clicked over to her editor. ”Jimmy,” she said. ”Long time no speak. Sorry I missed your calls before -- I'm in Russia on a story.”
”h.e.l.lo, Suzanne,” he said. His voice had an odd, strained quality, or maybe that was just her mood, projecting. ”I'm sorry, Suzanne. You've been doing good work. The best work of your career, if you ask me. I follow it closely.”
It made her feel a little better. She'd been uncomfortable about the way she and Jimmy had parted ways, but this was vindicating. It emboldened her. ”Jimmy, what the h.e.l.l do I do now?”
”Christ, Suzanne, I don't know. I'll tell you what not to do, though. Off the record.”
”Off the record.”
”Don't do what I've done. Don't hang grimly onto the last planks from the sinking s.h.i.+p, chronicling the last few struggling, sinking schmucks' demise. It's no fun being the stenographer for the fall of a great empire. Find something else to cover.”
The words made her heart sink. Poor Jimmy, stuck there in the Merc's once-great newsroom, while the world crumbled around him. It must have been heartbreaking.
”Thanks,” she said. ”You want an interview?”
”What? No, woman. I'm not a ghoul. I wanted to call and make sure you were all right.”
”Jimmy, you're a prince. But I'll be OK. I land on my feet. You've got someone covering this story, so give her my number and have her call me and I'll give her a quote.”
”Really, Suzanne --”
”It's *fine*, Jimmy.”
”Suzanne,” he said. ”We don't cover that kind of thing from our newsroom anymore. Just local stuff. National coverage comes from the wires or from the McClatchy national newsroom.”
She sucked in air. Could it be possible? Her first thought when Jimmy called was that she'd made a terrible mistake by leaving the Merc, but if this was what the paper had come to, she had left just in time, even if her own life-raft was sinking, it had kept her afloat for a while.
”The offer still stands, Jimmy. I'll talk to anyone you want to a.s.sign.”
”You're a sweetheart, Suzanne. What are you in Russia for?”
She told him. Screw scoops, anyway. Not like Jimmy was going to send anyone to *Russia*, he couldn't even afford to dispatch a reporter to Marin County by the sounds of things.
”What a story!” he said. ”Man!”
”Yeah,” she said. ”Yeah I guess it is.”
”You *guess*? Suzanne, this is the single most important issue in practically every American's life -- there isn't one in a thousand who doesn't worry endlessly about his weight.”
”Well, I have been getting really good numbers on this.” She named the figure. He sucked air between his teeth. ”That's what the whole freaking *chain* does on a top story, Suzanne. You're outperforming fifty local papers *combined.*”
”Yeah?”
”h.e.l.l yeah,” he said. ”Maybe I should ask you for a job.”
When he got off the phone, she spoke to Perry, and then to Lester. Lester said that he wanted to go traveling and see his old friends in Russia and that if she was still around in a couple weeks, maybe he'd see her there. Perry was morose and grimly determined. He was on the verge of s.h.i.+pping his three-d printers and he was sure he could do it, even if he didn't have the Kodacell network for marketing and logistics. He didn't even seem to register it when she told him that she was going to be spending some time in Russia.