Hi, guys
Okay, here is the first part of my latest work in progress. I've had this story rolling around in my mind for a while now, but I've just been too darned busy to work on it. Now maybe I can.
I know it's not much, but I knew that if I didn't start posting this, I never would. I hope it doesn't completely stink.
Any and all comments/feedback welcome.
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The Long Road Home
by Erin Klingler <erinklingler@cableone.net>
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Some people are lucky enough to start and finish their lives right where they belong, always feeling comfortable with themselves and their lives, knowing they have exactly what they want, and they feel an amazing sense of contentment.
Others, however, spend their entire lives searching--searching for themselves, searching for something...for whatever it is they feel they are missing. Their journey is wrought with difficulties and disappointments, a need to fulfill some part of themselves they simply don't know how to satisfy.
For these people, their lives continue to feel like the first step on a long road home.
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The Long Road Home
With weary fingers, Lois typed the final few keystrokes to finish her story-a damning expose on the recent San Francisco crime ring she'd just blown the cover off of. She sent the file off to Jim Langley, her editor in chief, then leaned back in her chair with a sigh of relief.
She was finally done. The realization left her both exhilarated...and exhausted. She'd been working so hard and for so long on this investigation, and now that all the evidence had finally been gathered, every source had been checked out, and every fact had been documented, she felt too tired to even move from her chair. But she also felt an incredible sense of exhilaration, knowing that when her article came out in tomorrow's morning edition, heads were going to roll.
Her editor had been momentarily concerned when she'd come to him a month ago asking to be put on the story. He knew that without hard evidence, a story naming several high-ranking officials in the city and its surrounding area could cause the San Francisco Chronicle a world of trouble. But even he hadn't been able to find fault with the tirelessly attained evidence she'd presented him with the day before that would, most certainly, be one of the most incredible exposes the newspaper had ever printed, as well as presenting prosecutors with enough evidence to make the necessary indictments. It was investigative journalism at its best.
Dang, I'm good, Lois thought indulgently, a confident smile slowly working its way across her face. And this story proves it.
Not that I have anything to prove, she quickly amended.
In the six years she'd been a reporter, she'd built a name for herself by writing stories that had exposed everything from illegal gun running operations to money laundering schemes, and she had even dealt local crime lords blows by exposing their carefully constructed operations, thereby cleaning up her little corner of the world.
She was known among her colleagues and peers as one to be reckoned with, an investigative journalist who got to the bottom of absolutely any story. If something was hidden, she would find it. That was all there was to it. Everyone knew she was the best. And she was.
But strangely enough, lately, being the best didn't seem to be enough. It felt like something was missing in her life. Something...
"Lois! Where's that story of yours?"
Lois jerked her thoughts back to the present and turned the direction of the voice. She immediately spotted the familiar scowl on her editor-in-chief's stern, dark face as he stormed about the newsroom, making sure everyone was going to meet the evening deadline.
"It's done, Chief," she called back wearily. "I just sent it to you."
"Great," he called back. "Now get out of here. Go home and get some sleep. That's an order."
Lois let a weary smile slip out and she pushed her chair back from her desk. "You don't have to tell me twice. G'night, Chief."
"'Night, Lois," he responded, his voice a little less gruff as he turned and headed back to his office.
Lois shook her head as she gathered up her overcoat and attache, and headed for the elevator. She'd worked for Stan Hoffman for a long time now, and she knew that underneath that gruff exterior, he was really a softie inside. He'd seen her through losing her parents, through threats of suspension from her job when witnesses hadn't panned out, through everyday hardships and trials. He'd become more of a friend than anyone knew. And these days, she was glad to have every friend she could get in her sometimes lonely profession.
Yet even though she was grateful to have a handful of people she could honestly call friends, she felt the same hint of depression trying to work its way into her soul. With great effort, she pushed it aside.
*What on earth do you have to be depressed about?* she asked herself as she climbed behind the wheel of her silver BMW and started the car. *You just nailed the expose of the year. If this story doesn't earn you the Pulitzer prize, nothing will. Enjoy the moment!*
But even as she insisted, she found it hard to do so. As much as she craved the action, the intensity, the battle to get the story--and usually the glory that came along with it--she just didn't feel her usual enthusiasm tonight.
*It's the after-story blues,* the little voice in the back of her head reasoned as she steered her sports car through the busy streets of San Francisco. *You always feel like this after you finish a big story. All those weeks of tracking down leads and digging up the dirt--it's only natural that you'd feel a sense of let down.*
Somehow, though, Lois didn't think that was the only reason she was feeling the way she was. She felt restless. Discontent. With everything that she had going for her, for some reason, it didn't seem like it was enough.
When she got home and parked her car, she took the elevator up to her fifth floor apartment and walked down the hall to her apartment at the end. Just as she was about to insert her key in the lock, the door to the next apartment opened, and a head wrapped in a bright blue clear cap covering a dozen or more bright pink rollers poked through the crack.
Lois raised her eyebrows at her neighbor. "Hello, Agnes. Nice hair-do."
The elderly woman let out a noise of disdain as she stepped the rest of the way out of her apartment, dressed in a wild, floral print robe and hot pink slippers that almost matched the color of her hair rollers. She was holding a tiny white poodle that had little red bows secured above each ear.
"Don't get smart with me, missy," she snorted at Lois, but beneath the harshness of her voice, there was an unmistakable note of affection. She glanced down at her thin, gold watch. "You're home late again. What have I told you about working too hard?"
Lois let a smile slip out at her neighbor's familiar reprimand. "That I'm going to grow old before my time and end up an old maid," she repeated as she had many times before. Then she pointedly glanced at the little dog her neighbor was holding. " Like you, perhaps? Living alone in an apartment in San Francisco with only a dog for a roommate?" she teased lightly.
Agnes snorted again good-naturedly. "Never you mind about that. This isn't about me, this is about you. You just need to have a little fun once in a while, instead of working at that newspaper of yours all hours of the day and night."
Lois stepped back from her door and closed the distance between her and her neighbor. When she was close enough, she reached out to rub the little dog's ears and coo softly at her. The dog responded by twisting her head into Lois's hand, obviously enjoying the attention.
Agnes chuckled. "You're the only one who can do that to princess. If anyone else tried to pet her, she'd take their arm off."
"Well, maybe she just knows a sucker when she sees one." Lois grinned as the dog licked her hand, then she stepped back and took another look at her neighbor's interesting hairstyle. "You have a hot date tonight, Agnes?"
"One never knows," Agnes responded with a cryptic smile. "Just because I'm old doesn't mean I can't have a life. And that holds true for you, too, dear. Are you going out tonight? It is Friday."
Lois felt a pang of sadness come over her, but she quickly pushed it aside and shook her head. "Nope, not tonight. I think I'll curl up with some ice cream and a good book. I'm tired."
Agnes made a tsk-tsk sound with her tongue and shook her head reprovingly. "You're young and beautiful, Lois. You probably have a dozen guys eager to take you out. You should take one of them up on their offer."
Lois forced a tight smile onto her lips. "Maybe sometime. None of them interest me, I guess."
"Interest, schminterest," the old lady scolded as she wrinkled her already wrinkled face at the younger woman. "I'm not saying you have to marry one of them. Just go out, for once! Having some kind of life outside of that paper of yours would do you some good."
"I know," she admitted. "I just...I don't know. I seem to be looking for something that doesn't exist." She paused a moment, afraid of going into territory that was better left unexplored. Finally, in an attempt to lighten the mood, she grinned and met Agnes's gaze. "I guess I'm just waiting for that knight in shining armor to sweep me off my feet, just like you are."
Agnes let out a laugh that could be heard clear down at the other end of the hall. "Smart girl. And a romantic at heart, I must say. I always knew there was a hopeless romantic in you underneath all those damning exposes you like to write." She reached out to pat Lois's arm. "Good for you, Lois. Good for you."
Then, without another word, Agnes turned and went back into her apartment, shutting the door soundly behind her.
Lois smiled after her neighbor. Despite their age difference, Lois thought of her as a friend...as kind of the mother she'd always longed to have.
With a sigh, Lois turned back to her own apartment and let herself in. The lights were dim in the foyer, and she tossed her overcoat onto the Victorian chair next to the vestibule, where she set her attache. Then she crossed the darkened living room and slid into the window seat at the far end of the room. From there, she could look out over the bustling city. It was a beautiful sight, one she never tired of. It had soothed her on many an occasion after a long, stressful day of work, but tonight, even the brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges of the sunset in the distance couldn't soothe her soul.
Lois shook her head. She didn't know why she felt so restless. She had a good career where she earned a nice living, a nice apartment in a safe part of town, and a life that was her own. She could come and go as she pleased.
*Then why am I not happy?* Lois asked herself as she felt a hint of depression sinking back in. *What is it, exactly, that I think I'm missing in my life?*
She leaned forward to rest her temple against the cool glass of the window as she stared out into the darkening night sky. She didn't know what it was, but something was missing. Something she just couldn't put her finger on.
She wanted more out of her life. But for the life of her, she knew that she had no idea what it was.
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to be continued in part 2...
