Prophet (81 page)

On the air.

Music. Big music that sounded like news, rushing along, charging along, sounding the call,
News is happening, happening, happening.

Video. Moving, aerial shot of the city, the Adams Tower, downtown. Traffic rushing back and forth, ferries pulling out from the dock.

Deep, sandy, booming voice: “This is Channel 6, The City’s Premier News and Information Station, your number one source for up-to-the-minute news . . .” Pictures,
fast
pictures: a cameraman runs toward a fast-breaking story, zooming in, focusing; a female reporter stands in front of more news, hair blowing, microphone ready; a male reporter scrambles from a NewsSix car, his eyes locked on an off-screen event; Chopper Six lands with a bump; technicians bang switches in the control room . . .

New video. The city skyline from high above, the picture rocking, dipping a bit with the helicopter as it banks over the skyscrapers, catching the glint of the evening sun off the vast panes of glass . . .

Voice still going: “And now, from the NewsSix newsroom, this is NewsSix at Five, with John Barrett . . .” As the camera flies through the air, circling over the freeway where the traffic flows like blood through an artery, a box appears at the upper left. John Barrett flashes a knowing smile at the camera.

“. . . and Ali Downs . . .” Box at lower right. She has a new hairdo, a new look, and delivers a shining smile.

The boxes disappear as the camera drops toward an imposing tower of glass adorned with a big red 6.

“Bing Dingham with sports . . .” A box containing Dingham’s face leaps out from the tower and slams into the upper-right position. Bing Dingham looks at the camera and cracks up as always.

“And Hal Rosen, weather . . .” His box flies out of the tower and comes to rest at the lower left as he looks at the camera and winks.

The boxes disappear. Here comes that tower, closer, closer, we’re coming in for a landing, the BIG RED 6 filling the screen, closer, faster,
closer, faster
. . .

“The NewsSix News Team. NewsSix at Five!”
Crash!
We’re inside the building, sailing past rafters, cables, floodlights, and then, like a roller coaster going over the top, we nose over, dropping down past rigging, wires, lights, monitors, into the open expanse of the NewsSix
set, heading for the floor and the news desk where John Barrett and Ali Downs are ready and waiting to inform us, accepting with ease that we have fallen from the sky and through their ceiling to get there.

Two-shot: John and Ali at the desk, looking into Camera Two, the false video monitors behind them.

“Good evening,” said Ali, “and welcome to NewsSix at Five.”

Camera Three, head-on to John. The camera pans to the right as a graphics box appears over John’s left shoulder. The graphics box shows the Benson Dynamics logo over a silhouetted airplane and the large word beneath the box: “CUTBACKS.”

John read the copy to lead into Wendell Southcott’s report. “Big news today from Benson Dynamics, one of the city’s biggest employers. Due to canceled airline orders and government contracts, the company will be cutting back its work force.”

The red light atop Camera One lit up, and John looked in that direction, continuing, “Wendell Southcott has been tracking that story . . .” Mardell held out her hand, indicating where the DVE box would appear. John and Ali looked at the wall as if looking at Wendell. “. . . and now has this live report. Wendell?” Camera One captured John and Ali looking at the box with Wendell Southcott looking back at them, microphone in hand, the Benson Dynamics building behind him.

“Stand by Cassette One.”

Wendell went to full screen as he began his report. “Well, John, U.S. and foreign airlines have cut back delivery on 2100s and 2200s, and Benson has also been hit hard by defense cuts.”

“Roll Cassette One.”

A missile appears on the screen, blasting into the air. Title at bottom of screen: “Benson. Cutbacks.”

Wendell Southcott’s voice over the video: “Benson took a big hit with the cancellation of the WeeWinder missile . . .”

CARL AND MOM
sat on the couch, watching anxiously as the newscast hurried along and the VCR rolled, recording the event. They sat through the Benson story, then a related story on the local economic impact of the Benson cutbacks, then a story about a police raid of a
crack house, and then a story about a high-speed chase and a wrecked pickup truck.

A commercial brought a chance for Mom to break eye contact with the television screen and ask, “Did John say when he would be doing the story?”

Carl didn’t like the answer. “Well . . . he said they were going to bury it, and that meant they’d probably put it somewhere in the middle with other stories on either side, and definitely not right before or after a commercial.”

“I don’t understand.”

“People might remember it if it’s the first thing they see after a commercial—if it’s the top story in that section. But you can’t have it right before a commercial either because then people can think about it during the commercial.”

Mom was shocked. “They actually
plan
it that way?”

Carl laughed but just a little. “Who knows? That’s just Dad’s theory.”

“Well, we’ll see if he’s right.”

“The point is, he’s doing it.”

Mom gave a solemn nod and a proud smile.

“I only wish Grandpa could see this,” Carl sighed.

Mom patted Carl’s hand. “Dad saw this moment a long time ago. He knew this day would come.”

THE NEWSCAST CONTINUED
on through another section and another commercial break. Then more news: a house fire, a yacht sinking in the bay, an environmental fracas over a new garbage incinerator.

Then came a quick update on the gubernatorial campaign, reported by Todd Baker. Challenger Bob Wilson was still coming on strong, at least in his rhetoric—“Slater says he cares about women, but I don’t see the
family
anywhere in all that talk!”—but the polls showed Hiram Slater well ahead, so the governor remained confident of victory: “Four years ago I received a mandate from the people, and I believe the people still believe in the causes for which they first elected me. I have no question that we will prevail.” It wasn’t anything new or startling. Same old, same old.

Moving right along: “The cross-Bay bridge, a real possibility? A planning committee released its findings today.” Jim Eng had the story. Jim Eng did the story. John asked a scripted question: “Well, Jim, how many members of the committee really view the Meyer’s Point route as feasible?”

“John, as a group the committee members would not commit themselves, but one member who asked not to be named felt the route would be approved . . .”

Commercial break.

Next section. The opening of the city’s new art museum. Consumer specialist Dave Nicholson’s investigation into a mail-order meat packing scam.

Then Bing Dingham with sports. The Tigers and Cutters game. Some tennis. Another HIV-positive superstar admitting to having sex with hundreds of women and insisting the Administration isn’t doing enough.

Hal Rosen with current weather and the national weather situation, the five-day forecast coming up later in the program.

Then the teaser.

Camera Two, two-shot of John and Ali, zooming back a bit. Their names appear under them: “JOHN BARRETT. ALI DOWNS.” Between the names, the NewsSix logo. Behind the anchors, the backdrop with the false monitor screens.

Ali took the first tease: “Hate crimes in this area are on the rise, and a white supremacist group vows to make Waterton a national haven for whites only.”

“Roll Cassette 530.”

Video: A burning cross in the front yard of a nice house; white men with closed-cropped haircuts marching with banners and giving Nazi salutes.

Title at bottom of screen: “AHEAD.” John’s voice over the video: “A local African-American family is threatened by still another cross burning but vow to stay, even as the American Aryans open a local chapter only blocks from their home.”

Video: A wild rhinoceros rams a safari jeep as the passengers scurry in all directions, screaming, hollering.

Ali’s voice over the video: “And a frightening incident at the Wildwood
Animal Safari as a rhinoceros goes on a rampage, all captured on home video.”

A banner graphic wipes onto the screen. “Business. The Dow Jones Averages, up 5.59.” Then six local stocks and how they did.

Commercial break.

John flipped the pages of his script in Section Five. There were only three stories slotted for this section: the hate crimes/white supremacist story, the home video of the rampaging rhino, and . . . the Slater Story, sandwiched between the other two.

“Three . . . two . . . one . . .”

Ali began Section Five. “Another cross burning, this time on the front lawn of an African-American family in the Waterton district . . .”

John watched the monitor in the news desk as the video played and special assignment reporter Valerie Hunter did the reporting. It was impressive stuff, even scary. The frightened family, the charred cross still on their front lawn, the mother and father voicing their fears and concerns, followed by the grandiose and hateful boasts of the white supremacists.

A powerful story. A disturbing story. And it would be followed by . . . what? John’s nonstory? His after-the-fact indulgence in finger-pointing? For just a moment he even considered calling Rush and canceling the story, but of course by now that was impossible. The newscast was rolling; the scripts, teleprompters, and cassettes were all in place. The story was going to air, and he was going to read it.

MOM AND CARL
knew the time was passing. The newscast had already been going for forty minutes. The Slater story had to be coming up soon.

Mrs. Westfall, Cindy Danforth, and the two volunteers were beginning to wonder if the story would air at all. They felt they’d been sitting an awfully long time.

RACHEL WAS ONLY
inches from turning the television off and going on with her life. She figured she’d give the show just a few more minutes and that would be it.