Frank

While based in small part on actual events, this is a short fictional story, written by Amy Booth, in response to those events. Please recognize it in terms of fiction, and nothing else. (AB)

The door to the Benson Tribune opens and shuts with a gentle click. It is hardly noticeable between the phone occasionally ringing and the chatter of fingers on a keyboard. The office itself isn't very large, but the staff isn't very large either. Writing for a small college doesn't usually require much working space.

Elliott Ryan slipped into the office practically unnoticed. He started up his computer and pulled his notebook out of his messenger bag. Flipping through the pages, he tried to decide on what to write for his opinion column. He felt he had a few promising stories but wanted to give it more thought. While the Benson was a daily paper, his column ran three times a week. On days like this, when he was still forming ideas and gathering information to feed into his opinions, he enjoyed not having to churn out a daily piece.

"Hi Elliott."

He could that it was Karina, even before she spoke to him, by the smell of her coffee. She was never without it. And he would know, since she occupied the desk closest to his.

"'Morning Karina. How's the coffee this morning?"

She grinned at him. "Delicious, as always. I don't know how you can't drink this stuff."

"I know, I know, because you can't live without it." They had the same conversation practically every morning. They had gotten to know each other pretty well since Elliott had started writing for the school paper. Karina had worked for the paper since she was accepted at Franklin College. Elliot had only been a contributing member for two years, but he had been at the same desk for both of them.

"That's right. I think I have coffee in my veins instead of blood. But I know what you can't live without." She pulled an apple juice from her bag and mischievously set it on his desk.

"You know me all too well," he said. He reached for it and grinned at her, twisting the cap. Just as he took his first sip, his phone rang.

"Benson Tribune, Elliott Ryan speaking."

"Elliott Ryan?"

"Yes ma'am, that's me. How can I help you?"

"You write the opinion column for the paper, don't you." Elliott noticed it wasn't a question. He was familiar with this drill. He assumed this this was another call to tell him how skewed his opinion was, that he was wrong, that he shouldn't have written what he did. He took a deep breath and put on his best mental teflon.

"Yes ma'am. That column belongs to me."

"I don't like what you wrote."

Elliott waited, but it didn't seem like she was in a hurry to elaborate. He could already hear a certain intensity in her voice and knew it was better to offer a small response. "Okay. Did you have a particular day in mind?"

"Yes. My name is Martha Stockett." Elliott knew immediately what this call was about. "You wrote a column about my son and I don't agree with it." He could hear the heat rising in her voice. "I want you to retract it. You shouldn't have written it. You need to fix it, because other people are starting to say what you said about him, and it's not acceptable at all."

Elliott quickly weighed his options. He could tell that she was not going to back down. While he knew that it was an opinion column, he also knew that sometimes it was not worth it to get into a fight. Opinions disagree.

"Yes ma'am, that's not a problem."

"Thank you." Elliott thought he heard a hint of surprise in her voice, but she did an excellent job of hiding it.

"You have a good day." He hung up the phone without waiting to hear her goodbye. Sighing, he stared at his computer screen, scrolling with the logo of the paper.

"Who was that?" Elliott looked over to see Karina staring at him. He could read the curiosity on her expression, and it was so intent that he nearly laughed. Instead he settled for a brief smile while he leaned back in his chair. He knitted his hands together and cradled his head as he looked over at her.

"Martha Stockett."

Karina's eyes widened. "Stockett...as in Damian Stockett, the student body president?"

"Bingo."

"What did she want?"

"She doesn't agree with the column I wrote about her son and she wants me to get rid of it."

"Really." She stared back at him, not really knowing what to say. "And you said you would. Okay, sure. Do you want me to help you find it?"

"Sure. It's been months since that article ran. I don't think it will take long but it might be nice to have another pair of eyes looking for it."

They both turned towards their computers. Elliott pulled himself into his desk and opened his Tribune search program. The Tribune was a daily paper, but all the published articles were archived according to the month of publication. Elliott guessed that it had been somewhere around six months ago that his opinion about the current student body president was circulated in print around campus. He set up the perimeters for his search and waited for the computer to process.

"Found it."

Elliott rolled his chair over to Karina's desk. He scanned the article that was pulled up on her computer.

"Yep, that's it," he said, nodding his head. "What's the date on that, so I can open it on my screen?"

"Let's see...publication date is...December 16, 2009. Wow." They both stared at each other, disbelief spelled out clearly on their faces. "That was ten months ago, Elliott. Why is someone calling you now about it?"

"I have no idea. Usually I get complaint calls or comments right away, or maybe a month at most. She's sure mad though. She said that other people were starting to say the same things that I did, that it was starting to get around. But if it's starting to get around now...that doesn't make a lot of sense. Does she think it's my fault? I don't run in the same circles as Damian Stockett, that's for sure."

"And to be honest, the Benson, as much as we love it, doesn't make it much further than the campus boundaries. Our audience is specific, and it isn't big. If someone was looking to find what you said here, with all the editions we've published since then, they would have to put in some serious effort."

"I know. The way everything is archived, even online, you wouldn't be able to see it in plain view after December was over."

Karina took a long drink from her coffee cup. She continued to look at the article as it appeared on her screen, but Elliott knew her well enough to know that is not where her focus was. She chewed on her lip for several seconds before turning to look him, square in the eyes. "Here's my thing. First, this isn't a malicious article. You're not attacking him. Second, I would say that if people are beginning to share your opinion, it's not because you put it out there first. The amount of time is just too great. I would say it's because they are coming to that opinion on their own. Whatever Stockett is doing, whether he knows it or not, whether he means to or not, it's him that is making people talk. But since this is out there, in print, that's why you got the phone call. However the Stockett lady found it, she found a place to put the blame."

"Well, I can take it off the website. That should make her happy. I can't really do much about the printed copies."

"C'mon El, I seriously doubt there are still circulating copies. And like I said, I seriously doubt your opinion was the catalyst for whatever is going on now."

Elliott nodded, sliding back to his desk. He typed in his user ID and selected the article in question. The computer barked at him, ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DELETE THIS ARTICLE?

He clicked yes.