Channel 20 Something (8 page)

“So… I’ve been thinking,” I said. “If you’re still interested, I’d like it if we could work together—like you suggested—on our reels. I could shoot stand-ups and interviews for you. You could shoot them for me. If you still want to.”

My favorite sunny smile appeared.

“And I’d like to learn those vocal exercises, too,” I continued.

He glanced over at me, still smiling. “And the meditation techniques?”

“Have you been keeping a running tab of everything I’ve said ‘no’ to?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.”

“Well,
as a matter of fact
, I would like to learn those, too. Maybe I could finally stop losing my lunch before every live shot and newscast.”

He gave a short, sharp laugh. “Seriously? Every time?”

“Don’t laugh. It’s horrible. I once threw up in front of the governor.”

“Oh no. When?”

“You’re still laughing.”

“Sorry.”

“At the Neshoba County Fair—you haven’t experienced that yet. It’s this big weeklong event in the summer. Horse racing, rides, concerts. And all the politicians running for office show up to give speeches and meet the people. The governor was up for re-election last year, and I was there doing a noon live shot. He agreed to come on for an interview with me. So—we’re in our places, standing there together. I feel fine, I’m thinking I’m going to make it, and then I hear the director in my IFB, and she says, ‘one minute.’ I had to turn to the governor, say ‘excuse me’ and run for this big trash barrel nearby and throw up—right there in broad daylight in front of the leader of our state government—by this time I’ve got like thirty seconds to air.”

“You’re right. That
is
bad. Did you make it?”

“I did. I got back into place and did the interview. But the governor had this weird look on his face the whole time. Oh man—it was
not
good. I cringe whenever I look at the playback.”

“Poor you. I want to see that interview, by the way.” Aric pulled the SUV over and stopped outside my apartment building.

“Not a chance. So—you think this meditation thing will really help me?”

“I do.” He turned in his seat to face me more fully, staring at me as if trying to decipher a particularly difficult Sudoku. “So… what changed?”

“What? Oh. I just… decided to start saying ‘yes.’”

“To what?”

I shrugged. “Everything.”

A wide grin spread across his face, and his eyes widened. “Excellent. Can I come inside?”

All my breath seemed to leave my body at once. “Right now?” I wheezed.

“Sure. I’ll teach you a couple of relaxation techniques. Right before bed is a great time to practice them.” He gave me a sexy smile, which combined with the word “bed” still hanging in the air, suddenly made common sense seem like an option.

Bionic pheromones, Heidi.
“Um… you know, when I said everything, I didn’t mean
everything,
” I backpedaled.

He laughed softly. “Relax. I’m not planning to put any moves on you. You’ve already told me you have a boyfriend. We’re friends now, right?” His smile seemed to gleam in the dark.

“Right.” I thought for a minute. If Aric was anything like Hale, we could be friends. I could invite him up, let him in. We could go to each other’s apartments without any threat of something happening. But where Hale’s nearness was pleasant and comforting, being close to Aric was anything but comfortable. Every nerve in my body was disrupted and alive.

“Aric… thank you for the ride. But I forgot to mention my ‘saying yes’ policy doesn’t take effect until tomorrow. ”

He exhaled loudly, pretending exaggerated disappointment. “All right then. Do you need a ride to work tomorrow?”

I opened the door of his truck. “No—that’s okay. My dad and brothers can help me get my car unstuck. I’ll get a ride with one of them. Thanks, though. Sleep well.”

“Oh, I will.
I’ll
be completely relaxed.” He gave me a you’re-missing-out-on-something grin. “Good night, Heidi.”

I wished him a good night and walked up the sidewalk, unable to stop myself from imagining all the ways Aric Serrano might get relaxed before sleeping.

When I arrived for work Saturday, Aric’s Tahoe was already in the lot. Colleen’s desk in the newsroom was empty, so I assumed she was out on a story. Her shift started early in the morning, whereas Aric and I came in in the afternoon because we were anchoring the late news.

I put my things under my desk and looked over the assignments file for the day. Colleen had left a note about a man who’d survived a massive snake bite while turkey hunting this morning. He was at the Baptist Memorial Hospital. She’d scribbled a room number next to the hospital’s phone number.

According to the schedule, she was covering an awareness walk right now then heading to a hot air balloon festival from there. The Mississippi State football game was at one o’clock. If Aric and I went together, we could swing by the hospital and talk to the snake bite victim and shoot some video and my stand-up before going to the game to get highlights and interviews for his sportscast.

I went to the sports office to coordinate schedules with him but stopped short because he was on the phone. He sat with his back to me, wearing shorts and a polo, his long tan legs stretched out in front of him with his feet on the desk. He was leaning back in his chair, massaging his own neck with one large hand while holding the phone to his ear with the other.

The sound of his voice, low and affectionate, kept me standing there when I should’ve left immediately to give him privacy.

“ …I miss you too… well, November’s not too far away.”

I couldn’t hear every word, but the ones I did pick up set an unexpected burn smoldering in my gut. It was clear from his tone he cared for the person on the other end of that call. It struck me that I’d been unbelievably presumptuous with all my defensive claims of “I have a boyfriend.” For all I knew, he’d left a girlfriend behind in Minnesota or California and was pining away for her every day.

“Love you, too
, älskar dig. Adjö, Lillemor
.” Mr. Accent-free had just morphed into a full-blown Swede for a minute. And told someone named Lillemor he loved her. The burn traveled up to my face. What an idiot I was. Aric must have thought I was so conceited for suggesting, repeatedly, that his kind offers of help meant something more. I turned to sneak away before he could see me eavesdropping.

“Heidi.” The friendly greeting met my back. Emphasis on
friend
.

Fastening a smile on my face, I pushed down my humiliation and turned around. “Hi. I didn’t mean to disturb your call.”

He stood and slid the phone into his pocket. “No, not at all. Ready to get to work, partner?”

“Absolutely.” I worked to recover my composure, determined to be as pleasant and businesslike as he was. “Are
you
ready to learn everything you ever wanted to know about snake bites?”

“Uh… I guess I am. Let me get all my gear together, and we can head out. So you’re good to go for the game today at one?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Because I think you’re gonna love it.” He gave me his sunshine smile, forcing me to battle an eruption of physical responses that were inappropriate for so many reasons.

“Oh, I’ve been to lots of State games,” I said.

“None like this one.” At my confused expression he said, “You’ll see what I mean. And don’t worry. I’m bringing
everything
we’ll need.”

Aric refused to explain further, so I dropped it and we set out for the hospital. The administrator on duty gave us permission to film there as long as the patient agreed and we didn’t show any other patients on camera.

Colleen’s note indicated the snake bite victim, Buddy Harris, was willing to do the interview, so we went to his room on the third floor. The door was cracked open, the lights on inside. I knocked and called out, “Mr. Harris? It’s Heidi Haynes from WPLM News.”

“Yeah, come on in,” a heavily-accented gruff voice responded.

Aric pushed open the heavy door. The room was small and bright and filled with the sounds of a college football pregame show playing on the wall-mounted television. Buddy Harris reclined in the bed with one meaty pale leg propped up and a meal tray in front of him. He gave the wheeled bedside table a push, rolling aside his unfinished lunch.

“Well, you’re as purty as you are on the tee-vee.” Buddy offered me a wide smile and extended a hand in welcome. He looked to be in his early fifties, with a few days’ growth of salt and pepper beard and thinning gray hair on top. His light blue hospital johnny was short-sleeved, revealing thick, tanned arms. The leathery skin of his face spoke of decades spent in the outdoors, and I had no trouble believing this was the experienced hunter I’d been told about.

I shook his hand, finding his grip surprisingly firm, considering what had happened to him. “Thank you, sir. It’s nice to meet you. How are you feeling?” I darted a glance at his left leg. The entire calf was blue and purple, with dark, nearly black, streaks extending almost down to the ankle. Gross. Fang marks at least two inches apart centered the dark area.

“Well, I feel a whole heckuva lot better than I probably should. I couldn’t find my snake boots this morning, so I wore my muck boots. I didn’t see any turkeys, but I sure found myself a big ole timber rattler. Bit right through my pants and the boots.”

“A rattlesnake. That’s what bit you, huh? Does it hurt?” I asked.

“Not right now. They’ve got me doped up real nice.” He gave me a happy smile. “But it felt like somebody took a full swing at my leg with a baseball bat when it happened. I’m lucky to be here.”

Aric set up the camera, and I clipped a lavalier microphone on Buddy’s gown. When Aric told me he was rolling, I began the interview.

“Did you see the snake?”

“Oh yeah—I got a look at ’im. That sucker was about six foot long.” Buddy stretched his arms as wide apart as they’d go in an attempt to represent the snake that struck him. “I was all by myself. I knew the hospital was twenty minutes away, and I’d have to walk back to where I parked my truck. I wasn’t sure I could make it.”

“You must have been terrified,” I said.

“I gotta admit—I was pretty scared. I sent up a prayer, you know? I’ve got a family, and I was thinking of them. I knew I had to calm down and stop my heart from pumping so fast because all I was doing was helping the venom get through my system faster. I got my venom extraction kit out of my turkey vest. I’d been carrying it around for ten years and never needed it. I had to read the directions first because I’d never even opened it up.”

Buddy explained how he’d used the kit to extract several cups of his own poisoned blood from the wound before limping to his truck and driving himself to the medical center. “The doctor told me I’d gotten a pretty good dose of venom. He said I’d have died before I ever made it back to my truck if I hadn’t had that extraction kit.”

After we finished interviewing Buddy and shooting some video of him and his wound, I interviewed the doctor who had treated him, and Aric and I left the hospital.

“I have an idea for my stand-up—let’s stop along the road when we get to a stretch of woods.” I was almost giddy at the prospect of being able to get something other than a static shot of me just standing in front of the camera with a microphone.

Aric pulled over when we found a good spot. He lifted the gear out of the trunk and followed me to the tree line. “So—are we looking for snakes? Cause after hearing Buddy’s story, I have to say I’m not too excited about that plan.”

“No.” I giggled. “We’ll only go a few steps into the woods.
You’re
going to be the snake.”

“I think I’ve been insulted.” He laughed.

I demonstrated my meaning with my hand low to the ground, representing the camera. “You’ll move the camera through the grass and leaves here at snake level, see? And my legs will come into view. Then you’ll sort of strike out at my leg with the camera real quick, like it’s biting me, then pull back wide and pan up my legs to my face. I’ll just keep talking the whole time.”

“Oh, I get it—snake-eye view. Good idea. That’s going to look cool.”

“It might take us a few tries to get the timing right. I’ll count down and walk into frame. When I get to one, you can start your movement.”

Aric got onto his knees, checking around him first (for snakes, no doubt) and took a couple of practice runs with the camera before nodding to me and pointing.

“Ready? Three, two, one… hunter Buddy Harris didn’t find any turkeys this morning, but something found him—a six foot rattlesnake.”

On cue, Aric moved the camera in a quick dive for my leg, then jerked it back and tilted the lens up toward my face.

I continued speaking, “Buddy said he’d never felt any pain like it in his life. He didn’t have to see the two fang-holes in his boots to know he’d been bitten, and to know it was
bad
.”

We got a few more shots in the woods for cover video before returning to the car for the thirty minute ride to Starkville. I felt like skipping, anticipating the fun of editing the stand-up in with Buddy’s sound bites. And this story would go right on my escape tape.

Aric glanced over at me after fastening his seatbelt and starting the car. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“Like what?”

“So happy. You can’t stop smiling. You really love the job, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, when it’s like this. It’s fun to do it right, you know? To do something
good
. Viewers might actually learn something helpful from this story, and we get to do it in a creative, interesting way. I wish it was like this all the time.”

Aric checked his mirrors and pulled out onto the highway. “It will be when you make it to a big market. Which I have absolutely no doubt you’ll do.”

I blinked and looked at him, feeling myself flush with pleasure at his remark. “Thanks. You too. I mean, you’re already too good to be here. Why did you even take this job? It’s your second one, right?”

“Right. Well, I was just a sports reporter in Mankato, and the sports director and weekend sports anchor had been there forever. They were from the area and had no intention of ever leaving. So I didn’t get to anchor much. I needed more anchoring experience and more anchoring clips for my reel. You know how it is—people want to
see
you doing it before they’ll consider hiring you to do it. Plus—I’d never been to the South. I thought it would be an adventure.”