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The Colorado Kid :: Кинг Стивен
Страница: 74 из 81But what do they find inside of their newspaper?”
“Feature stories,” Stephanie said, thinking of Hanratty and his unexplainedmysteries.
“Ayuh. And thoseare stories. Every one of em has a beginning, a middle, and an end. That makes em happy news, Steffi, always happy news. Even if the story is about a church secretary who probably killed half the congregation at the church picnic because her lover jilted her, that is happy news, and why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You better,” Dave said, emerging from the bathroom and still wiping his hands on a paper towel. “You better know if you want to be in this business, and understand what it is you’re doin.” He cast the paper towel into his wastebasket on his way by.
She thought about it. “Feature stories are happy stories because they’re over.”
“That’s right!” Vince cried, beaming. He threw his hands in the air like a revival preacher. “They haveresolution! They haveclosure! But do things have a beginning, a middle, and an end in real life, Stephanie? What does your experience tell you?”
“When it comes to newspaper work, I don’t have much,” she said. “Just the campus paper and, you know, Arts ’N Things here.”
Vince waved this away. “Your heart n mind, what do they tell you?”
“That life usually doesn’t work that way.” She was thinking of a certain young man who would have to be dealt with if she decided to stay here beyond her four months…and that dealing might be messy. Probablywould be messy. Rick would not take the news well, because in Rick’s mind, that wasn’t how the story was supposed to go.
“I never read a feature story that wasn’t a lie,” Vince said mildly, “but usually you can make a lie fit on the page. This one would never fit. Unless…” He gave a little shrug.
For a moment she didn’t know what that shrug meant. Then she remembered something Dave had said not long after they’d gone out to sit on the deck to sit in the late August sunshine.It’s ours, he’d said, sounding almost angry.A guy from the Globe, a guy from away—he’d only muck it up.
“If you’d given this to Hanratty, hewould’ve used it, wouldn’t he?” she asked them.
“Wasn’t ours to give, because we don’t own it,” Vince said. “It belongs to whoever tracks it down.”
Smiling a little, Stephanie shook her head. “I think that’s disingenuous. I think you and Dave are the last two people alive who know the whole thing.”
“We were,” Dave said. “Now there’s you, Steffi.”
She nodded to him, acknowledging the implicit compliment, then turned her attention back to Vince Teague, eyebrows raised.
“Feature stories,” Stephanie said, thinking of Hanratty and his unexplainedmysteries.
“Ayuh. And thoseare stories. Every one of em has a beginning, a middle, and an end. That makes em happy news, Steffi, always happy news. Even if the story is about a church secretary who probably killed half the congregation at the church picnic because her lover jilted her, that is happy news, and why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You better,” Dave said, emerging from the bathroom and still wiping his hands on a paper towel. “You better know if you want to be in this business, and understand what it is you’re doin.” He cast the paper towel into his wastebasket on his way by.
She thought about it. “Feature stories are happy stories because they’re over.”
“That’s right!” Vince cried, beaming. He threw his hands in the air like a revival preacher. “They haveresolution! They haveclosure! But do things have a beginning, a middle, and an end in real life, Stephanie? What does your experience tell you?”
“When it comes to newspaper work, I don’t have much,” she said. “Just the campus paper and, you know, Arts ’N Things here.”
Vince waved this away. “Your heart n mind, what do they tell you?”
“That life usually doesn’t work that way.” She was thinking of a certain young man who would have to be dealt with if she decided to stay here beyond her four months…and that dealing might be messy. Probablywould be messy. Rick would not take the news well, because in Rick’s mind, that wasn’t how the story was supposed to go.
“I never read a feature story that wasn’t a lie,” Vince said mildly, “but usually you can make a lie fit on the page. This one would never fit. Unless…” He gave a little shrug.
For a moment she didn’t know what that shrug meant. Then she remembered something Dave had said not long after they’d gone out to sit on the deck to sit in the late August sunshine.It’s ours, he’d said, sounding almost angry.A guy from the Globe, a guy from away—he’d only muck it up.
“If you’d given this to Hanratty, hewould’ve used it, wouldn’t he?” she asked them.
“Wasn’t ours to give, because we don’t own it,” Vince said. “It belongs to whoever tracks it down.”
Smiling a little, Stephanie shook her head. “I think that’s disingenuous. I think you and Dave are the last two people alive who know the whole thing.”
“We were,” Dave said. “Now there’s you, Steffi.”
She nodded to him, acknowledging the implicit compliment, then turned her attention back to Vince Teague, eyebrows raised.