Page 5 of A Crazy Kind of Love
Leonard gave us a chance to drink in our fill before picking back up. “The hint of hypocrisy fueled these kinds of stories for a while.”
The things I learned working in this department never ceased to amaze me. “Fascinating.”
“Oh, I know. At the time, I thought it was going to be like watching a total train wreck. I even went and did a bunch of research on this cult he was in. His parents anyway.”
“Yeah?” I leaned in, intrigued. Gossip sold for a very good reason.
“They were called Maranatha, which I learned means something like ‘the return of the Lord’ or whatever—you know like the what-do-you-call-it?”
“The Second Coming,” said Zion. Leonard and I turned and stared at him, eyes wide. He put a hand on his hip. “What? I was raised Southern Baptist.”
I said what we were both thinking, “You said ‘second coming’ with a straight face. Not even a ‘That’s what she said.’” Leonard cracked up. I enjoyed working with these people when they weren’t all jockeying for the best stories. That is, when Andy wasn’t around to drive everyone to compete.
Leonard still held everyone’s attention when he continued. “I happened to run into Micah soon after, and I asked him about it. You know their family had toured the country on this bus they called the Salvation bus. They crisscrossed the U.S. like the Partridge Family, except instead of pedaling pop music, they were selling the apocalypse.”
Nobody said a word for a moment, until we couldn’t handle the suspense, and a chorus of “What happened?” sprang up. Leonard smiled, always the attention whore. “Ah well, that’s what was funny. He told me about how great it was to travel town to town and meet people, playing his guitar. The way he talked about it, you’d think I’d asked him about his latest musical tour.”
Zion said, “You mean his parents went around the country preaching the gospel and what he got from it was how to become a traveling rock star? That’s kind of hilarious.”
Leonard pointed at Zion in agreement. “I think that’s why the story never really went anywhere. Micah didn’t let the religion aspect catch and hold. He deflected it without really denying it or apologizing, so the story never got very big. But it did make him one of those people who are interesting for being interesting.”
The door swung open, and everyone flew to their stations. Andy rushed in on some kind of mission. He’d probably caught a celebrity dropping her baby. The newsroom bustled with renewed activity. Fingers clacked on keyboards, and every eye turned away from our fearful leader as he wended his way toward his office. When he approached my desk, I ducked my head, but it was too late.
Andy’s eyes landed on me. “Jo! How’d you make out with Emily Mortimer? Get anything we can use?”
Zion straightened up, my personal savior. “She got a pretty picture of Micah Sinclair we could use for an out-and-about shot.” Since he’d talked me into taking the job here, he always tried to help me navigate the trials and tribulations of working for the devil.
Andy’s ruddy face moved through the calculations quickly. “No text?” Zion’s silence answered his question, and he went on, “How’d she run into Micah Sinclair and get no text? Did she ask him about his breakup?”
“I’m right here, Andy.” I didn’t want to confess I hadn’t recognized Micah. “He didn’t stop. I barely got this picture.”
Andy glanced at my monitor and clucked. “That’s not the face of someone in a hurry. What did he do? Stop and flirt?”
He took a few more steps toward his office, and I sputtered out, “It was the best I could get.”
Wrong answer. Andy spun around, drawn to me like Sauron’s eye to the one ring. “I bet you I could go on Twitter and in five minutes find a better amateur fan photo of him from today.” His mouth hardened into a frown, which was how Andy showed perverse pleasure. “Slide over.”
He opened my Twitter tab and searched for Micah’s name. Sure enough, within seconds, he had a dozen tweets showing Micah out on the street today. The one at the very top said, “Micah’s new girlfriend?” Andy clicked a link to a shaky video, and there I was, very clearly perched on Micah’s shoulders, wearing a crazed look of determination on my face.
I knew I was about to get the lecture of a lifetime, but all I could think about was sending that video on to my mom who would get an enormous kick out of it. I made a mental note to watch it two or three hundred times myself—if I survived the next few minutes.
Andy’s head swiveled around. “You said he didn’t stop. What’s your explanation for this?”
I wrapped my arms around myself, starting to shiver. And did my head feel light? I needed to get something to eat and soon, but I’d have to make it through Andy’s harangue first. I closed my eyes a second, but Andy had less than zero empathy for my health.
“I’m waiting.”
When I looked up, Andy hadn’t lost his sneer.
“I’m sorry, Andy. I didn’t know who he was. He came up to me. He actually blocked my shot of Maggie Gyllenhaal, so I talked him into giving me a boost.”
“Nice.” His mouth curved slightly up, and he nodded, considering. “Fast thinking. Shows initiative.” He turned and took in the others who were all completely absorbed in the unfolding drama. “This is what I like to see. Get the shot any way you can.” He rounded back on me. “So where’s the picture of Maggie?”
His praise had lifted my hope, but the last question blew it to smithereens. “I never got it. She saw me and fled.”
He pressed his lips together, and I saw the wordsincompetent rookiein his eyes. He exhaled. “There may be a silver lining here, though.”
A muscle in my cheek twitched from the stress of dealing with Andy’s mood swings. “What?”
