The Price Of Silence. Kate Wilhelm

led the way into his office, where he introduced Ruth Ann.

      Todd had assumed that Mrs. Colonna was his wife, and was surprised to meet the old woman. She was taller than Todd and as straight as a stick, without a hint of extra fat; her skin was weathered and wrinkled with a tan as dark as her son’s, and her hair pure white and straight, cut short. Her eyes were startling, green with flecks of amber. She looked sinewy, tough, impervious to the elements. She was wearing faded chinos and a cotton shirt.

      Todd was beginning to feel overdressed in her interview clothes—skirt, blouse, panty hose.

      Waving Todd and Barney to chairs, Johnny went behind his desk to his own chair, cleared his throat, and then said, “I was impressed by the journal you sent us, but I’m afraid that we’re not doing anything quite like that. We have a weekly newspaper, and a few circulars, nothing like you’re used to working with.”

      Without glancing at him, Ruth Ann handed Todd a copy of the latest edition of the newspaper, the one that had infuriated her. “Can you tell by looking it over what went wrong? Theodore, our editor, swears that he edited the copy himself, and he’s been quite good in the past. And I know beyond any doubt that my own editorial was letter perfect.” She sat in a chair close to Todd’s.

      As Todd began to examine the newspaper, Ruth Ann turned to Barney. “Do you have computer expertise also, Mr. Fielding?”

      Barney shook his head. “Not a bit. I use a word processor and when I goof, as I do all the time, she fixes it.” He nodded at Todd, who was frowning at the newspaper.

      She turned to the last page, then looked at Ruth Ann. “It’s lost the formatting. And the columns aren’t set. Also, someone tried to use text and graphic boxes without setting the parameters.” She would have continued, but Ruth Ann held up her hand.

      “If I edited all the paper copy and someone put it in the computer, would it end up garbled like that?”

      “Until the program is straightened out, the errors fixed, the formatting reset, things like that, it would probably come out about like this.”

      Ruth Ann’s lips tightened. “What are those strings of gibberish?” She leaned over and pointed to a string of codes.

      “It looks like different programs were used and codes from one ended up in the text without being translated.”

      “Ms. Fielding—may I call you Todd? How long would it take you to straighten out the programs, fix things, print a decent edition if you had the copy?”

      Johnny made a throat-clearing sound and Ruth Ann turned to snap at him, “Have you understood a word she’s said?”

      “You know I don’t know anything about computers.”

      “And neither does anyone else in this office. That’s the problem.” She looked at Todd again.

      “I could run off an edition in a day or two if I had all the prepared copy. But it would be makeshift. To fix things the way they should be fixed? I can’t be sure until I know what programs are in use, how many people have access to them, if there are templates, or if they have to be set up. It could be a matter of days, or it could take several weeks. And after all that, your people, anyone who uses the programs, should be trained. I can’t say without more information.”

      “When can you start?”

      “I thought you said you would want someone by the first of September,” Todd said.

      “I want someone now, today, Monday. Todd, if you can start sooner, I would appreciate it. We will cover your relocation expenses, hire movers to come in and pack your things, haul them down here. Meanwhile you could stay in the hotel, Warden House. Would that be acceptable?”

      Startled, Todd glanced at Barney. He nodded at her and stood up, then said, “Mrs. Colonna, I think Todd and I should take a few minutes to talk about this.”

      “Yes, you should,” she said. “Come along. I’ll take you to my office.” She led the way back through the outer office to the opposite side and opened a door. “My room,” she said. “This is where you’ll be working, Todd, at least until Theodore leaves in September. When you’re ready, just come back to Johnny’s office. Take as long as you like.” She looked around, shrugged, then left, closing the door after her.

      It was a bigger office than Johnny’s, and while his had been neat and tidy, this room was cluttered—an old desk, two old chairs, boxes on the floor, papers all over the desktop. A separate desk held only a computer.

      “Barney, we can’t just abandon our stuff,” Todd said.

      “Honey, that old lady is desperate,” he said softly. He looked at the vintage desk, faded framed photographs on the wall, wooden file cabinets. “This is her baby,” he said. “She has to save it, and she can see a savior in you. We won’t abandon anything. I’ll take care of stuff in Portland and you can go to work. Do you want to start right away? That’s the only question.”

      She crossed the office to a tall window with venetian blinds, wooden blinds. She hadn’t seen blinds like that since…Never, she realized. She had never seen blinds like that. Barney had pegged Ruth Ann Colonna exactly right, she thought then. She had been considering the work aspect of the interview, but he had seen through that to the person who had not actually pleaded with her to start, but had come close.

      

      In Johnny’s office again, Ruth Ann sat down and said, “We have to do something now. We can’t afford another issue like that one. How many complaints have you fielded so far?”

      He rubbed his eyes. “Plenty. I know we do. It’s just the expense with money so tight.”

      “How many times have you brought in a consultant this past year? At fifty dollars an hour. They come in, spend three or four hours fixing things and for a week or two everything seems to work and then it turns into garbage again. We have to have someone in house to keep things working right and to train everyone here.”

      “I’m not fighting you,” he said, holding out both hands in a placating gesture. “See. I agree. But, Lord, they look like kids, both of them.”

      “They are kids,” she said. “Pretty, precocious children who understand the world they’re inheriting, which is more than I can say for myself. All right. I’ll take them over to the Tilden house and leave the key with them, and afterward I have to go see Louise. And, Johnny, see to it that Shinny behaves himself. She’s to be the editor in charge and he has to accept that.”

      Lou Shinizer called himself a reporter; she called him many things but never that. In her opinion he was incapable of writing a yard-sale sign, and in fact he did little more than run around and pick up handouts from various sources, but someone had to do it. He fancied himself a ladies’ man. She was certain Todd would swat him down fast. Shinny did not like to be swatted down.

      

      That evening when Ruth Ann arrived home, she went straight to the kitchen to mix herself a tall glass of bourbon and ice water. Maria Bird was dicing onions, and she looked up as her husband Thomas Bird entered by the back door carrying a Jack Daniels’ carton.

      “What’s that?” Maria asked.

      At the same time Thomas Bird asked, “Where do you want me to put this?”

      “With the others,” Ruth Ann said, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Papers,” she said to Maria. “And don’t ask what kind because I don’t know. Louise insisted that I stop by her house and pick up that stuff. She’s fading away, Maria.” Thomas Bird walked past them with the box.

      “I know,” Maria said. “And she’s ready. But you have no business running around all day in this heat, or you’ll be in the same shape she’s in.”

      Maria was five feet two inches tall, stocky, with lustrous black hair done up in intricate braids laced with red ribbons. She had come to help out when Johnny was born, a teenage girl fresh out of high school.