So John is back. Officially.
It was clear from the interview that he is a different person than he was before graduate school – so much more astute.
The NYU thing really did well for him.
I never liked how we left things.
But I’m glad he’s back, and will be making real money this time, not the pittance they paid us at the paper. I could never pay him what he truly deserved.
I sit down to check my email, sure he was going to let me know he’d found a place.
Not so.
Instead, there is one from a movie producer. He’d found my byline and wants to do a movie about Mick and Carson and all that nonsense.
Just when I thought I was out of all that.
The magazine is supposed to be a fresh start for me, put the shilling for Mayor Charlotte behind me. Get me back to hard-nosed, true investigating and reporting.
And now?
And what if my editor finds out that I’m working on something like this? How do I explain the decision I made then? Tell him we were irrelevant? That we needed skin in the game, to be engaged?
Sure, that’ll go over well.
The magazine hired me based on my portfolio. They hired me because I care about this community, and God knows a lot is happening here.
And then there’s Elyse.
I want her back.
I want us to go back to being us. Elyse and Bernie. That’s it. I’m fed up with other people telling us how to be, what to do.
Can you imagine what a movie about Middle Valley and Mick and Carson would do to her?
I dial this guy, this Sam Sledge, directly from his email. That’s his name – Sam Sledge. A Hollywood name if ever there was one.
“Sledge,” he says.
“Bernie Rossie, returning your email with a call.”
“Fantabulous!” he says, and I immediately want to make a run for the river. “Great to hear from you!”
“Okay, well, let’s talk.”
“Right, well, I loved all of your reporting on Mick and the whole thing. I am a Mick Righteous devotee, full disclosure, and figured you must be as well, given your kind coverage of the man.”
“Not really,” I tell him. “It was a favor for a friend.” Why am I telling him this?
“Well, regardless, you see the good that he brought to the world. And I do, and my co-writer does. Long story short, we have the script, the funding, and the crew, and we want to come to Middle Valley to shoot it. How do you feel about being an EP?”
Horrible, I wanted to say. Just awful. Never call me again.
“When do you see this happening?”
“Before the end of the year, if all goes according to plan.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I tell him. “You’re kinda catching me at a busy time.”
“I’m quite sure of that,” Sledge says. “But we really need your expertise. I hope you will give it thought.”
“Send the contract through, and we can meet next week,” I tell him.
“I will do so,” he says. “Believe me, this will be big. Box office big. Avengers big. I could tell you who’s attached as the leads, but I have to have you sign an NDA first.”
“Understood,” I say, then hang up the phone.
Wait ‘til I tell John.
Gunnar Olafsson