June 1, 2009
Perris, California
Rose stood in line at the supermarket, idly scanning a magazine while she waited. There was something to be said for grocery shopping in the morning, rather than in the afternoon or evening—the lines weren’t as long, because there weren’t as many people out shopping yet.
Putting the magazine back in the rack, she scanned the contents of her cart, then checked her purse, making sure that she had her WIC voucher. In spite of being employed, there wasn’t always enough money to buy food, not the good, nutritious foods that all of them, especially Lizzy, needed. She and Jack were willing to make sacrifices for themselves, but they wouldn’t sacrifice their child’s health and well-being.
Rose looked down in surprise as the cell phone in her purse rang, startling her. She wasn’t expecting any calls. Pulling it out, she pushed the talk button. "Hello?"
In spite of their continuing poverty, Jack and Rose had kept the use of the cell phone, for the sake of safety, if nothing else. Jack worried about Rose driving all over town to deliver pizzas, and insisted that she carry it. Rose had given him an exasperated look the first time he had tucked it into her pocket, but inside she was glad to have it. Her job could be dangerous, and she glad to have the ability to call for help if she needed it. Thus far, she had been able to take care of herself, but she felt better knowing that she could get help if it became necessary.
"May I speak to Rose Dawson, please?"
"Speaking."
"Rose, my name is Patricia Roth. I’m with the Human Resources department of The Chippewa News."
Rose frowned, remembering that she had sent her résumé to a paper called The Chippewa News some months ago. She had never received a response, and thus had assumed that her application had been rejected. Since the paper was based in Wisconsin, far from where the Dawsons lived, she hadn’t been terribly disappointed
"Okay." Her voice betrayed her confusion, as the cell phone number she had given then was no longer hers—she had given up her own cell phone in favor of Jack’s cheaper one when their financial problems had become severe. "How did you get this number?"
"Your husband gave it to me. I called your home, and he directed me to call you on your cell phone."
"What did you need to speak with me about?" They couldn’t be offering her a job, could they? It had been so long since she had submitted her résumé, and many papers were cutting back now, anyway.
"Rose…may I call you Rose?"
"Go ahead."
"Rose, The Chippewa News has been searching for a full-time local features writer. As I’m sure you’re aware, we’ve expanded considerably the past two years."
"Actually, no. Most papers are cutting back or even going bankrupt."
The woman was silent for a moment. Rose bit her tongue, reminding herself that if there was any possibility they might offer her a job, she would do well to curb her tongue and not annoy someone who might be in charge of hiring. Finally, the interviewer said, "Well, The Chippewa News, which was established about five years ago to compete with the other local paper, The Chippewa Herald, has been expanding to fill the vacuum left by the papers that have gone bankrupt. Now, as I’ve said, we’ve been looking for a full-time local features writer, and your résumé stood out."
Rose couldn’t help but wonder if it had stood out in a good way. She had done her share of writing, especially since she had gotten her Associate’s degree in English, but she had seldom written professionally, except for her songs, and her reputation tended to precede her. Thinking of what to say, she responded, "But I applied several months ago, and I’m not actually a professional journalist—I mostly just blog."
"Another person was hired when the job was posted, but they left soon thereafter for family reasons. Your résumé was saved in our database. We were looking for someone local, but no one qualified has applied, and the work you’ve placed the Internet shows that you write about local issues as well as national and international ones. You also have an impressive educational background."
"Well…thank you, but I’m still not a journalist."
"You’ve done some free-lance work for newspapers in Southern California, and an Internet search revealed that you’ve written opinion pieces for a number of on-line and underground publications, as well as your own blog."
"But most of that wasn’t paid work. It was just me contributing my opinion."
"You’ve shown a great deal of knowledge and understanding regarding current events and their history, both on local issues and national ones."
"I’ve also written and performed songs on various issues. I’m primarily a musician." Rose decided to cut to the chase. "Let me get this straight." Rose paused for a moment as she reached the front of the line, pulling out her WIC voucher and her wallet. "Are you offering me a job?"
"That’s exactly what I’m doing."
"What does The Chippewa News cover? Is it just local, or does it also deal with national and international events? I apologize for not knowing, but I didn’t think anything would come of my application."
"It’s primarily a regional newspaper based in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, but also serving the surrounding region. As I said, though, we’ve been expanding, and though most national and international news comes from other news services, we do send a few people to report on major events elsewhere in the country, and we may be expanding on that. We also look at how events outside our region affect the people within it, which is something your work has shown that you are good at looking at. The owner thinks that you would fit in perfectly as a member of our staff—if you’re interested."
Rose had never really thought she’d become a journalist, but the idea and the offer, once presented, did interest her. "Would this be a telecommuting job?"
"Actually, we would need you to work from our news office, with trips into the local area."
Rose was silent for a moment, considering, as she counted out the amount of money she needed and waited for the manager to check over her WIC purchases. "And your news office is in Chippewa Falls?"
"Yes. Would that be a problem?"
"Well, I am currently living in California, halfway across the country."
"I see. Would you be willing to relocate?"
Rose thought about it. She had lived in California all her life. It was her home. On the other hand, she didn’t seem to be having much success where she was living now, not as a singer and not as anything else, and neither did Jack. And there were things that she didn’t like about California, like the ever-growing population and the lack of resources to support that population. Life was hard for far too many people, the Dawsons included. This job would offer the whole family a new beginning.
"Actually, I would be willing to relocate. When do you need me to start?"
"Would three weeks be sufficient time?"
Rose thought quickly. She and Jack would have to resign from their current jobs, cancel their social services, pack up their belongings, and make their way to Chippewa Falls. Once there, they would have to find a place to live and sign Lizzy up for Kindergarten in the fall. But she wouldn’t have to handle it alone. Jack could search for a place for them to live and take care of enrolling Lizzy while she started work, and her income would probably be sufficient to support them until he could find a job of his own.
"I think it would be enough time—would you want me to start June twenty-first or twenty-second?"
"June twenty-second. The job is basically forty hours a week, more or less, depending upon the amount of work needed. It pays twenty-five hundred a month to start, plus mileage and the costs of any trips you have to make. Benefits include health insurance and 401K, but no stock options at this time, since we are not yet publicly traded."
Rose wasn’t any too willing to put much faith in stock options—not after what had happened to Vandekar Publishing—but the overall package sounded good to her. "Can I have all this in writing? I don’t want to make such an extensive move, and then find out that there was no job waiting for me."
"There will be a job waiting for you, but we will express mail you the contract and all the details."
"When should this be arriving?"
"Within the next day or two."
"All right. And what will I need to do?"
"Sign the contract and send it back. You’re welcome to make a copy for yourself, if you feel the need."
"I do. I wouldn’t make much of a journalist if I didn’t feel the need to thoroughly research things, would I?"
The interviewer laughed. "No, you wouldn’t. So, it’s settled, then? You’ll take the job?"
"Yes, I’ll take it. This doesn’t require my social security number, credit card number, or bank account information, does it?" She laughed slightly, excited over the prospect of a new career, but still a little suspicious.
"Not until you start working. Then we’ll need your social security number—for tax purposes, you understand."
"Of course."
"The only reason we’ll need any bank account information is if you want direct deposit of your paycheck."
"Sounds legit." Rose handed her money over to the cashier, waiting while she gave her the change.
"We’ll send you all the details, including the work address. Do you want the phone number, in case you have any questions?"
"Yes."
Patricia quickly gave her the number, which Rose jotted down on the back of her receipt. Tucking it into her purse, she said, "Thank you. You don’t know how great this is. I’ll be there June twenty-second at…"
"Eight o’clock AM."
"Eight. Right. I’ll be there. Thank you."
"You’re welcome, Rose. Thank you. We’ve been looking to fill this position for quite some time."
"I’ll do my best."
Rose hung up and tucked the phone back into her purse. Ignoring a few hostile stares from other customers, caused both by the delay while her merchandise was checked and the fact that a WIC recipient had a cell phone—however old the phone was—she pushed her cart out of the store, a new spring in her step. Things were finally looking up for them again.