Disclaimer: The reader should temporarily withhold his skepticism for the sake of pure entertainment.
It's never going to be an ordinary day, Joanna thought to herself. She sipped her coffee as she stared out through the basement window. Especially when you're working at this place.
Unlike most papers, the Daily Quidnunc refused to publish anything that didn't have to do with Bigfoot or the Mole People. It was probably the most understaffed tabloid in the country, and not particularly fussy when it came to hiring reporters. Joanna had been working there for about five years, and had seen the best of them come and go without a word. Yet, not once had she been up for a promotion. All she'd wanted was a small corner office, a place somewhere in the chaos where she could organize her files in peace.
What she got instead was Joaquin.
He had started off there in an internship, claiming he wanted to gain some experience in the wild world of sensational journalism. Now he was just a pesky junior reporter with a penchant for sleeping on the job. Worst of all, he still believed in what he was writing about. He'd started his first day on the job pestering her nonstop with questions like "Have you ever been abducted?" or "Ever seen Elvis in person?"
She remembered the day he'd first come into her life.
She hadn't seen her boss, JP, at his desk when she'd arrived that morning. The oversized head editor was usually the first to arrive in the office, and the last one to leave at night. He could often be heard jingling his keys as he made his way around the office. On rare occasions, he would try to squeeze his way in through Joanna's narrow office door, usually without success. But today, something just didn't seem right.
At first.
"Morning, Joanna. I'd like you to meet the new guy," JP's voice boomed from outside the doorway.
"New guy? We haven't had any new hires in eight months," Joanna said. "This I gotta see." She stood up from her desk, staggering over to him on wobbly legs.
"Say hello to Joaquin, our new intern," JP said as he backed away from the door. A scrawny-looking kid in a dress shirt and slacks emerged from behind him. His back was slumped as he kicked at the ground.
Chuck Taylors. Real professional.
A slap on the back from JP sent him flying towards her. They collapsed in a heap on the office floor. Joanna dragged herself out from under him by her elbows. She sat up as far as she could, the middle of her back hitting a small box against the wall. Looking down, she saw Joaquin's head resting on her stomach. He gave a sheepish grin as their eyes met.
"Get off of me!" she yelped, wriggling out from under him. He pushed himself back up on his feet and steadied himself in the doorway.
"Aw, come on, Joanna, you know the kid didn't mean it," JP said, throwing an arm around Joaquin's shoulder. "Anyway, you two still haven't been properly introduced. C'mere."
Joanna rose to her feet and brushed herself off. She looked up at him again with her eyes narrowed. He was much taller when he stood up straight. JP could hardly reach up to his shoulders at his full height.
"Joaquin, this is our feature writer and reporter, Joanna Martin," JP said with a flourish. "She's our longest-serving reporter so far. How long has it been now, Joanna?"
"Two and a half years," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "Mind letting me out? I need to make some copies."
JP and Joaquin backed away from the door as she approached them. She could feel the intern's eyes boring into her as she passed.
Can this kid even talk? He's really starting to creep me out.
As if on cue, the copy machine began beeping and flashing its warning lights as soon as Joanna approached it.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Paper jam in drawer three. What else is new?" she mumbled to herself as she knelt down to check it. "This thing is possessed, I swear."
"Talking to the office machinery again, eh?" JP boomed from above her. "You've been working too hard, Joanna. Maybe it's time you took a couple days off?"
She blew a strand of hair off her face and looked up at him. "Not with the way things are now, I can't."
"Aw, come on. How bad can it be?" he asked. She rolled her eyes as she scanned the nearly empty office.
"Look around you, JP. Do you see anybody else in here? I may be the feature writer, but my title might as well be 'chief cook and bottle washer' for all I do around this place."
He took a quick glance around and shrugged. "I guess you've got a point."
Save for Joanna's office and JP's desk, the Daily Quidnunc seemed practically deserted. Joaquin hung back in the doorway where he'd been left, his hands firmly lodged in his pockets.
"Anything I can do to help out?" JP asked.
"Well, you could give our resident Casanova the boot, for a start," she said.
Johnny Hostile. Mr. Sexual Harassment himself. He'd scared off more secretaries and female interns over the years than Joanna could remember. Johnny had never exactly been JP's golden boy, but they'd forged an uneasy truce over the years. He'd spew his venom onto the printed page to make money for the paper, and in exchange, JP would let him alone. It didn't always work out in favor for both sides, of course. But when Johnny's name alone was enough to sell hundreds of papers, there was little room for argument.
"Um..." JP said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Let's not be too hasty there. Maybe we could start by...training Joaquin to help you out?"
"The intern? He just started! How much help could he possibly be?" she asked as she glanced towards Joaquin. He still hadn't budged from the doorway. "JP, I highly doubt some smart-alecky college kid is gonna be able to lighten my workload, especially a goofball like that one. He hasn't even said a word to me!"
"Calm down, calm down!" JP said, raising his hands in the air. "You gotta give the kid a little credit. He's already graduated, for one thing."
"From where, Clown College?!"
"Joanna!"
"Alright, alright, I guess I'll give him a chance," she said as she shuffled her papers together. JP smiled and clapped her on the back.
"Atta girl!"
She made a hesitant beeline towards her office. Joaquin smiled and looked her right in the eye.
"Okay, kiddo. Looks like you're stuck with me," she said. "First things first. Any questions?"
She felt a shiver go down her spine when he gave her a toothy grin.
"Great!" he said, clapping his hands together. "There are so many things I've been dying to ask you!"
"Sure, fire away," she said, edging back into her desk chair."Have you ever been abducted by aliens?"
"Excuse me?"
"I mean, have you ever had a close encounter with extraterrestrials?
"I don't think I can answer that with a straight face."
"Okay, never mind the aliens. Ever seen Elvis?"
"Hoo boy."
"No, no. no, wait! Have you ever - "
Never mind, I take it all back. This kid CAN talk...
Within two years, Joaquin had been promoted to junior reporter. Despite this, he and Joanna still had to share an office.
It was now the end of the quarter, and she had yet to come up with a story. In between filling in for a columnist who had taken a permanent vacation, and replying to letters from people who had obviously failed to read the disclaimer on the front page for some reason, she just hadn't the time. She knew she couldn't expect much help from Joaquin.
"Feet off the desk, please," she swiped at him as his sneakers just brushed the keyboard. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"
"What, answering letters?" he asked. "Like you'd actually expect me to believe this stuff wasn't real."
"Dear concerned New Yorker," she read aloud as she typed. "Yes, indeed, there are chemicals in the sewer that are transforming flushed pets into mutants. The giant rats send their love." Joaquin nearly tumbled off the desk in a heap.
"You know, for someone who doesn't believe in this stuff, you have a pretty good sense of humor," he croaked. "The giant rats send their love.' That's priceless!"
Just then, JP walked in through the door. Unable to fit through the door frame, he stuck his nearly non-existent neck in and smiled.
"You two crazy kids coming up with ideas? I'd better hope so. Otherwise, we may have to let one of you go. Sales have been down seventy-five percent since Johnny Hostile flew the coop," he said with a chuckle, and a not-so comical chin droop. Joaquin remained fixated on him, while Joanna just sat there shuffling her papers.
"We'll be right on it, JP," she muttered. "Matter of fact I've got it all lined up with that guy who claims that his garden gnomes are secretly watching him when he's asleep."
Joaquin looked over at her once JP had managed to dislodge himself from the doorway.
"He's something else, isn't he?"
"Listen, Boy Wonder, we've got some serious work to do here. I don't have time to hear you making cracks about the one person your paycheck depends on. Move it."
Joaquin grumbled and reluctantly turned around to face his desk. Voyeuristic lawn ornaments were the last thing on his list of priorities, but money was money. Hell, he could even be the next Johnny Hostile, if he ever found out who that was.
"What's on the agenda?" he asked.
Joanna sighed and reached for her Rolodex. "Well, assuming I can get Gnome-Boy to cooperate..." she said, earning a giggle from Joaquin. "Assuming that much, we'll have to go take a look at the property, gather the facts -"
"Maybe get a few good shots of some creepy gnomes..." he trailed off with a slight smirk. "Whaddya say, huh?"
She was rubbing her temples as she rifled through the yellowed pages of the index. "I think I feel a migraine coming on...Here we go, Mr. Crosby. Had him down here as 'Kook With The Lawn Gnomes'..."
Joaquin pounded his desk. His laugh was like a sea lion's bark.
Rolling her eyes, Joanna pulled out the dog-eared card and reached for her desk phone. She gave him her best death glare as she dialed Mr. Crosby's number and waited for him to pick up.
"He-he-hello?" he said. "Wh-who's there?"
"This is Joanna Martin, Mr. Crosby. You remember, from the Daily Quidnunc? I wanted to speak with you about your little...problem." There was an audible gasp on the other line.
"Please...not so loud. I think they're...t-tapping the phones now, t-too..." Joaquin was doing his damndest to keep from sputtering with laughter.
"Alright, Mr. Crosby. Is this a bad time for you?" she said in a whisper. Joaquin snickered as he watched her roll her eyes.
"N-nno...I think they're...a-asleep...for now..." he said. "What did you want t-to know?"
"I don't even know where to start..."
The next day...
"It's worse than I thought," said Joanna, taking care not to slam the car door too hard.
JP had insisted they take his car to visit Mr. Crosby. The Lincoln Town Car was at least twenty-five years old, a rust-colored behemoth of a vehicle likely to break down (in more ways than one) without warning. It had taken a great deal of begging, threatening and bribing to convince Joaquin to even get in the thing.
"Are we there yet?" he squeaked from the floor of the backseat. Joanna carefully opened the back door to let him out.
"Yeah. You gotta see this," she said. She pointed to the ranch house before them. Most of the white paint on its front had peeled off.
"Holy -" Joaquin was blinded by something reflecting off the house. "What the hell was that?"
"Tin foil," Joanna said
"What? Where?"
"Tin foil. Look, in the windows." She shaded her eyes just before pointing towards them.
"Damn... What do you think it's all for? Keeping the aliens out or something?" Joaquin asked.
"Get real, Mulder. That's not what we're here for. At least, not this time," Joanna let out a heavy sigh as she rolled her eyes. "Huh? What are you staring at now?"
He was hypnotized by something on top of the house.
"Whoa...Is that a security camera up there?" he said. "I know you said this guy was out to lunch, but that's just..."
"Watch it. I think it's motion-activated. Don't move a muscle unless you want to be caught on Gnome-Boy's Candid Camera." They ducked into the doorway .
"Should I ring the -WHOA!" Joaquin leaned against the door, pushing it open. He tumbled into a heap on the floor. "Watch your step."
"Nice landing, Boy Wonder." Joanna stepped over him and looked around. "Let's get down to business."
It was almost completely dark inside the house, save for the glow of an old, flickering TV set. A squat figure sat in front of it, blocking the bottom of the screen. There were a number of old, empty pizza boxes piled up nearby. A cloud of flies buzzed in a far off corner of the room.
"Damn, what died in here?" Joaquin said, earning him a smack on the forearm. "Are you sure we're even in the right house?"
"It's at the same address Mr. Crosby gave me over the phone," said Joanna with a shrug.
"And you believed that lunatic? Sheesh, and you call me naive."
"Shh. I think I hear something."
"W-who is it? W-who's th-th-there? Are you w-with th-th-them?" a voice called out. "G-get ba-ba-back if you are! I'm armed with a b-b-bat!"
Joaquin nearly doubled over as Joanna whapped him on the back of the head.
"Is that you, Mr. Crosby? It's Joanna Martin from the Daily Quidnunc. I'm here with my... associate to discuss what we talked about on the phone yesterday," she said. "Is this a bad time?"
"N-no...You just took me by...surprise...I guess," he said. "P-please p-pardon the m-mess..."
"No worries," Joanna said, waving her hand dismissively. She shot Joaquin a warning glare over her shoulder as they headed for the center of the room. "Can you tell me how this all started?"
Crosby shuddered. "It all s-started when I b-bought the house about s-six months ago..." he began. Joanna and Joaquin picked up their notepads, eager to begin.
Crosby talked almost nonstop for a straight half hour, only needing some prompting from Joanna when he began to digress. Joaquin elbowed her when he noticed their subject was beginning to fall asleep.
"Mr. Crosby? You're drifting off again." He shuddered.
"I haven't slept in weeks," he croaked. "They're out there... Watching... Waiting..."
"Guy's a regular fruit loop, " Joaquin whispered. Joanna elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
"I can tell this whole ordeal has taken quite a toll on your health," she said. Crosby sat up, his eyes half-open.
"I'm n-not always like this, you know," he said. His voice was steadier and even-paced. They both leaned in closer to hear him. "Between the stress and l-lack of sleep, I'm b-basically a wreck."
Joanna nodded, tapping her pen on her notepad. Joaquin was just trying to look serious
"Let's try to wrap this up, then," she said. "Do you have any evidence to support what you think is going on?" She turned to look Joaquin in the eye, but he was fixated on Crosby.
"I-I...do have..the tapes," Crosby muttered. "I-I've been f-filming them since I m-moved in..."
"Guess that explains the cameras..." said Joaquin. He nodded to Joanna.
"Oh! You have security tapes? Do you think we could see them?"
Crosby stiffened. "N-no! Absolutely not. I can't allow you to do that."
"But why not? That may be the best evidence we have to support your story!" said Joaquin. Crosby stood up, fists clenched at his sides.
"It's b-bad enough I thought to g-get you people involved in the first place! Now y-you've gone t-too far!"
"Mr. Crosby, be reasonable! We're only here to help you! All I need is to borrow those tapes for a couple days to back up your case. If you won't give them to us, there's nothing more we can do for you," Joanna said.
"I d-don't care! N-not if my life is in p-peril! If I g-give them t-to you, he'll g-get me! Now get out!"
"Who? You never mentioned your life was in danger!" Joaquin screamed.
"I'LL NEVER TELL YOU! NOW GET OUT!"
"Okay, okay!" Joanna shrieked, nearly tripping over Joaquin.
"I am NOT getting back in that death trap!" Joaquin said, laying spread-eagled on the hood of the Town Car. "I would rather be strapped to the ROOF than ride in that thing again!"
"Good idea. I'll have to keep that in mind," said Joanna. Giving a good yank on the door handle, she groaned as it creaked open. "Now get in."
He was shaking all over as she pulled him into the front seat.
"God, I need a good, strong cup of coffee after that. What say you, Joaquin? Joaquin?"
"Diner. Down the street..." he wheezed.
"How can you stomach that dreck?" Joaquin asked. He gagged as he watched her stir the thick concoction with her spoon. "Yech."
"Working at this job, you get used to it after a while," she said. "Hey, don't give me that look! Spend enough time in shitty diners and you'll be willing to drink almost anything."
"Well, that's something to look forward to."
"Anyway, let's get down to business. What's your take on the Crosby situation?"
Joaquin scrunched up his forehead as he looked down into his milkshake. "I dunno. Guy definitely seems like he fell out of the crazy tree, but at the same time, I kinda want to believe him. He seemed genuinely scared when we asked about the security tapes. That has to mean something, right?"
"Get real, Joaquin. The guy hasn't had a good night's sleep in a while and his mind's playing tricks on him."
"Aw, come on! There's gotta be something weird out there keeping him up at night. Guy's got too many bats in the belfry to be just your run-of-the-mill insomniac."
"I know one thing. Without those tapes, we've got nothing."
No comments:
Post a Comment