Chapter 8

It was noon before Abby heard the good news. She was sitting in the lunch room with the other teachers. The students were playing outside and the sounds of their yells and laughter could be heard through the open window.

“You guys gotta see this,” a teacher exclaimed as she rushed through the door. It was Edna Sorensen who had decided to take a walk downtown during the lunch break. She was waving the River Bend Press in one hand and carrying her lunch bag in the other.

“What’s up?” Asked the school principal Bruce Waken. The big, bearded man reached out to take the newspaper from Edna.

“It’s this story in The Press. I call it the Weekly Rag and only read it when I want to check out a special at Riley’s General Store, but I picked it up today because the whole town is buzzing about a new story in it. I couldn’t believe Horndecker would put something that trashy in his paper. I think the guy’s went off his rocker or something, to print something like this in a family newspaper. There ought to be a law against such garbage.”

“Trouble in Paradise.” The words sprang off the front page and it thrilled Abby to the core, but she was also so anxious to see what Horndecker and Rothenburg had done with it, she was attempted to tear it right out of Waken’s hands. It was terribly agonizing to have to quietly sit back and pretend she didn’t know what was going on. She even managed to be the last in line of teachers to read the paper so that nothing would throw suspicion on her.

When it was finally her turn, Abby’s heart was beating so rapidly she thought it was going to jump right out of her chest cavity. And her hands shook so badly she could hardly hang on to the paper. Although she thought she was giving her secret away, none of the teachers noticed. They were too busy discussing the merits of the story.

Abby took her time reading it. The first time she scanned it quickly to see if Horndecker had printed the entire story without a change. She was relieved to discover he hadn’t changed a word. The second and third times she read it slowly and carefully and relished the pride of having her first real story published. It was sheer agony to have sit still and be quiet while she badly wanted to jump and start screaming it was hers, but somehow or other Abby managed the feat by promising herself the victory celebration would come later with Leon.

“So what do you think, Abigail,” Waken asked as soon as she put down the paper. “Edna, here thinks it’s pure garbage and that Horndecker needs a good talking to. The rest of us believe that although it’s rather graphic, it’s not what anybody could call real racy so he was a right to publish it.”

Abby was slow to reply because she felt trapped. Although she desperately wanted to defend the story, she didn’t want to do it too adamantly lest the teachers begin to suspect she was the author. On the other hand, she did feel duty bound to say something in favor of Winston Conlee.

“Pure nonsense,” Edna protested hotly while Abby tried to form an adequate answer. Her face turned tomato red as it burnt with indignation. “It shouldn’t be allowed in a family newspaper.”

“I thought you said that nobody read The Press. What did you call it? Oh yeah, the Weekly Rag,” Abby countered.

“It’s anything but a rag now. It’ll probably be the most read thing in town by the end of the day,” Sandra Morgan proclaimed.

“I agree.” Woken stated. “In fact, I think printing this was the best decision Horndecker made in years. It’ll give The Press some class and raise its status by about a thousand per cent.”

“Yeah, it almost puts it in big city ranking. Those newspapers have tons of interesting news with great writers. But how could lowly River Bend be so fortunate as to attract a writer of such good quality? By the way, anybody know this Winston Conlee? I’ve never heard of him,” Elizabeth Baily asked.

Abby finally found a way to get her two cents in like she’d been dying to ever since she finished reading the story. Still, it was nice to hear the teachers discuss it, and better yet to have three for one in favor of it.

Instead of weighing in on whether it was good or bad, she simply said. “Elizabeth raises an interesting question. Just who is this Winston Conlee? I never heard of him, have any of you guys?” She watched all the teachers shake their heads and she smiled.

Noon hour was over and all teachers went back to their classrooms. Abby was walking on air for the rest of the day. By the time she walked back to her apartment the whole town was asking itself one question.

“Who is Winston Conlee?”