Week 2: John & The Shirt Off (Someone's) Back ...
It’s one thing to report on an event, and it’s another to report on an event that took place in a place you hardly know …
So many of the people here grew up here, know the ins and outs … know the shorthand. There’s “the highway,” which I took to mean the State Route on the other side of the river. Not so. “The highway” is what River Road turns into once you’re out of Middle Valley. The State Route, which actually is a highway where the tracter trailers and other high-capacity vehicles use as they cut through the state, is called “the local” because it runs East/West and connects two interstates.
Got that? The “local road” turns into the “highway,” but the actual “highway” is called “the local.”
When the Sheriff found the shirt at the foot of what he called “the local road,” I assumed (incorrectly) he meant River Road, the South side of the bridge. What he meant was at the foot of the State Route - on the North side.
This led the most unpleasant sort of phone call a reporter - particularly one who is new in town - will ever get.
“McHenry?”
Though I recognized his voice right away, it was not the despair-laden tone I’d heard the previous night at the bar.
“Yes?”
“It’s Wilson … I, uh, think we need to have a little chat.”
“Okay.”
“What I told you was that the shirt was found at the foot of the bridge, where it connects to the local road, am I right?”
“Yessir,” I said as my palms became clammy. '“That’s … what I reported.”
The Sheriff chuckled through his nose. “No, it’s not.'“
And I remembered what Bernie, my editor, had said. I am your Middle-Valley-to-English Dictionary for the next three months. Anything they tell you, run it through me.
I leaned back in my chair and glanced at my email Inbox as a new message arrived.
TO: John McHenry
FROM: Bernie Rossie
SUBJECT: You screwed up.
I cradled the phone my neck and clicked to open it.
“CALL ME IMMEDIATELY.”
“Sir, I’m going to guess that you’ve already spoken to Bernie?”
Sheriff Wilson inhaled deeply. “Yeah, it’s trash day. Ran into him at the curb. All those kids … his cans are always full, you know? … Don’t worry, I didn’t get you fired, but you may want to go on and give him a call.”