Page 63 of Head Room
“Hannah Arendt.”Mike was tapping on his phone.“She’s the one who wrote the book about—”
“Totalitarianism,” Needham said.“No need to write these down, Mike.I’ll send you the quotes and citations.We play this game all the time.But we’re getting far afield from journalism.Back to Jefferson.Were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers, or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter.”
“That’s a good one since it rules out television or digital,” Orson said with a hint of devilish humor.“Don’t get me wrong.It’s intriguing, the idea of taking on a TV news operation.Something new.Someplace new.You and Thelma.Kids on the staff.And working with E.M.Danniher?That would be—”
He shook his head.I chose to take that as the prospect of working with me was so good it left him without words, rather than the opposite.
Needham cut in, not letting him solidify his answer.“I know you’re disappointed—”
“Disappointed?Disgusted.You remember the guys we came up under?They’d have kicked that weak-assed owner’s unethical—” He broke off, turning the fist his right hand had formed and tapping the edge of it on the table.“I’m done.I’ve put in my years.Time to let the next ones take over.See my kids more.They’re all over the country and—”
“You’d be more central here,” Needham said.“Close enough to Yellowstone, they’ll come here—”
“You’re Michael Paycik, aren’t you?You used to play in the NFL.”
The intrusion of a new voice jerked us all around to a thin woman wearing narrow jeans and a cowboy hat so stiff it looked painful.If it wasn’t brand new, I’d eat it.And it would not be a tender meal.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Hello.I did.But I’m having a business meeting here and—”
“I just want an autograph for my nephew.He loves the Packers.”
Mike winced.
The woman should consider herself lucky.If she’d said that to a Bears fan instead of this former player, she’d get a lot more than a wince.
Needham assumed a completely blank expression that said he was trying not to laugh.
Orson turned and gave the woman a closer look.
I bit the inside of my cheeks.
“Our meeting—” Mike tried.
“It’s just an autograph.”Couldn’t say she whined.More like indignant insistence.
“Mom, c’mon.”A male voice came.“I gotta get to that interview.”
Past the woman, I saw the same guy I guessed was a job applicant at the sheriff’s office yesterday.
Mike grabbed a paper napkin from a stack Stella left for Needham, who’d ordered ribs, and wrote his name on it as he said, “Hope you’re enjoying your time here in Wyoming.”
He handed it to her.
She looked down.“A napkin?That’s not—”
“Hey.Your party’s leaving.”Stella swept in, friendly but firm.“This is a private meeting for our newspaper and TV news folks and—”
“The media?”Ignoring Stella, the woman’s gaze swept us with even more disdain than for the napkin.“Planning how to lead your local citizens around by the nose and—”
“What?”Mike interrupted.
“—spew out fake news.Everybody knows the media’s biased—”
“Ma’am—”
“No, Stella.”Mike turned fully toward the woman.
