Chris and the Ottsel: Chapter 2: The Situation

Chris burst through the front doors of the Pittsburgh Picayune main office building. Everything was inside that building – his office, the printing presses, the sweet smell of flowers at the main desk – it was his home. He couldn’t bear to see it go.
He usually said hi to Butch, the main security guard in the morning, but all Chris could get out was, “Sorry Butch, emergency!”
But Chris heard nothing. Butch wasn’t there.
He stopped in his tracks.
“Hello?” his voice echoed.
It seemed as if nobody was there. Damn it, I’m too late! He thought.
Then he heard a faint moaning from an upstairs room.
But it wasn’t just any room. It was the editor’s room.
“Dave,” Chris said with a sigh, as he slowly made his way toward the elevator, to head up to the 20th floor.
Dave Jansen had been in journalism for 30 years. He also started out at the Picayune when he was Chris’s age, and quickly made his way up the totem pole to the editor’s desk. No paper in the Pittsburgh area had been finer, had been run more efficiently, under his direction. But with the Internet and other media outlets taking over, it wasn’t a surprise to see several papers littered around the Pittsburgh streets.
But Chris still knew that the paper was popular. It hadn’t been completely discarded from people’s minds. In reality, it was the only paper in Pittsburgh that really received recognition.
Chris had thoughts racing through his mind as he continued to go up, up, up to the top. What do I say? What will Dave say? I have to sell myself.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, he finally made it.
He slightly rapped on the door. He heard a faint noise from under the desk.
“Who…who is it? Nobody should be here; I sent a company wide e-mail to give everyone the day off.”
Chris knew it was Dave. “Dave, it’s just me. Saunders. I don’t check my e-mail in the mornings.”
Dave slowly popped his head up. “Oh, Chris. Well, you should start.”
Chris quickly got to the point.
“Dave, you’ve been here for 30 years. I’m just starting out, but journalism is my life. I love this building. I love this town. I love my desk-“
“Spare me the details, Saunders!” Dave screamed so that the entire floor could hear.
Chris quickly shut his mouth.
Dave took a deep breath and sighed. “Look, Saunders. We’ve done all we can. All our other reporters are telling me day after day they’re running out of story ideas and that we can’t compete with the other media anymore. Pretty soon, it’s going to be advertisements on every page. It’s over, okay? I can’t drag a newspaper in the dirt like this.”
Chris understood how Dave felt. But he had to think of something to be a savior.
“But sir, people still subscribe. They still read it. We’re still the most read paper in Pittsburgh.”
Dave looked hard into Chris’s eyes. “Saunders, we’re the ONLY read paper in Pittsburgh! And our subscriber number is dwindling! And have you noticed all the litter on the streets? That’s OUR work being thrown out for no reason!”
Chris knew the situation was becoming really dire. He knew that he couldn’t convince Dave unless he really threw him a curveball.
“Face it, Saunders. It’s over. I’m selling the building to a condo company in two weeks and we’re shutting down then. For now, we’ll just be putting in reruns of our best stories. Find a new job, move, something. I don’t want to take you down with me. You’re such a hard worker.”
Chris knew this was his chance.
“Then why don’t I try and find a story to save us?”
Dave stared, then chuckled, then busted out laughing. He even shed some tears.
“Seriously, Saunders? You? Not that I don’t have any faith in you, but I just can’t imagine a 21-year-old like yourself picking some random place, finding a random story, and getting enough people interested to make profit and save our paper.”
“What do I have to lose? This is my life, your life, the paper’s life, and the information that our city needs’ life at stake here. Do you really want condos taking over the lifebreath of our medium?”
Dave shook his head. Chris’s face moved closer so it almost met Dave’s.
“Then, sir, I will do whatever I have to ensure that this paper stays intact.”
Dave knew there was no other option. He knew he couldn’t make Chris change his mind now.
Dave sighed again. “Alright, Saunders. I’ll give you the two weeks to find something juicy, report it, write it, and print it. But you’ve got to do it all by yourself since no one else will be allowed in here during that time.”
Chris could figure out how to run everything else. He was a quick learner, after all.
“Yes, sir,” Chris said. “Thank you, sir.”
Chris began to walk out and head toward the elevators, down to his office on the 10th floor.
Dave stopped him. “Saunders?”
“Yes, Dave?”
“If you pull this off, not only will you earn a promotion and a raise, but you will earn the respect of me and the entire city of Pittsburgh.” Dave saluted him. “Good luck, son.”
Chris smiled. His mission had begun, and there was no turning back now.