It’s a typical newspaper room with desk-filled cubicles occupying every possible square inch. Sarah makes her way to one in the far corner that she shares with three other part-timers. Writing one column a week doesn’t earn anyone very plush accommodations at this paper, or any paper for that matter, but Sarah doesn’t mind. She’s grateful to have the job and would put up with much worse if she had to.
Fortunately, although today is not her usual allotted time, the desk is free. She breathes a word of thanks and sits down, quickly moving some stacks of paper out of the way to gain access to the keyboard. She’s in the middle of arranging her notes when Sam Moretti, her boss, appears. Sam is a middle-aged, over-weight son of an Italian immigrant with a rough and tough exterior, but for some reason he has a soft spot for Sarah.
“So?” Sam asks as he stops and leans against her cubicle wall.
Sarah just looks up at him, wondering if he had been lying in wait for her arrival. Sam means well, but she sometimes wishes he didn’t treat her like the daughter he never had. When she doesn’t answer, Sam tries again.
“So, how’d it go this morning?”
“I’m not quite sure.” Sarah is a little surprised at her answer and suddenly realizes she really isn’t sure.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam sounds more concerned than anything else. And again, when Sarah doesn’t speak right away, he presses her. “How can you say ‘you’re not quite sure?’ Weren’t you there?”
“Of course I was there. Wouldn’t have missed this chance for the world. But….” Sarah frowns and starts to try to explain. “I still don’t understand. Why file this suit in the first place? There's obviously no basis in fact, so what's the motivation? Is it a publicity stunt, created specifically for the thirtieth Anniversary of AIDS? Is there some hidden political agenda that hasn’t surfaced somehow? Or is this guy just some greedy lawyer taking advantage of a few poor families, making them grieve all over again, trying to pocket a huge commission? I can’t figure it out.”
Sam pulls up a chair from the next cubicle and sits, partially in the walkway and partially in Sarah’s office. Sarah glances at her notes before continuing.
“Benjamin Messick is the plaintiffs’ attorney, and he just doesn’t appear like the type to do something this off-the-wall. He seems to be intelligent, even humble; and he comes across as very sincere – which makes all this even more of a puzzle.”
Sam decides to stay quiet and let Sarah try to figure this out on her own. She stares intently at her notepad and finally deciphers her next bit of shorthand, reminding her of what Messick said.
“But Messick is full of shit, no doubt.” Sarah knows Sam picked up on the anger behind those words, and she quickly brings herself back under control and tries to divert his attention. “You should see it Sam – this guy Messick by himself on one side and a whole boatload of high-powered lawyers on the other. It's almost laughable.”
It was the edge that Sam didn’t like. One thing he insisted on from all of his reporters was to stay objective at all times and keep their own emotions out of the story.
“Sarah, are you sure you want to cover this? I've got two other full-time people from Legal there as well....”
“Don’t you dare, Sam.” Sarah leans forward in her chair and into his face. “This is my story. Don’t you even think about taking it away from me.” She backs away a little, realizing it was just that kind of outburst that Sam didn’t want involved in the news, and decides to try another tack. “Besides, you need someone covering the health side of this trial, as well as the legal side.” That sounded so lame, even to Sarah, that she falls back to what worked with Sam to get the assignment to begin with, and should work again. “Anyway, I've earned this, and I want it. Please….”
Sam knew he was had and threw up his hands. “Okay. All right. It's yours. Can you get me your first column by deadline tonight?”
Sarah relaxes a little, pushes her chair back, and starts rummaging through her briefcase. She finally retrieves an energy bar.
“I think so. We go back for the opening statements by the defendants at two. If they go too long, I'll just focus on Messick’s opening. Either way, I'll definitely have you something by six.” She unwraps the bar and takes a bite. “By the way, can you help keep this desk clear for me while this trial is going on?”
“Maybe I can even find you another one that’s all yours for the time being. I’ll check.”
Sam turns and starts to walk away, then turns back. “Want some lunch before you start?”
Sarah shakes her head no, and raises the energy bar for him to see that she’s all taken care of in that department.
“Sarah…” Sam gently teases her, but with genuine concern, “…when are you going to eat some real food?”
Sarah dismisses him with a wave of her hand, turns to her keyboard, and “Googles” retrovirus.