Ashley's visit to Manti

This was my last week working for the Sanpete Messenger, and it began in the best way possible - with a friend who came to hang out and stay at my house with me.

I met Ashley several months ago through Kiera, a mutual friend. She gave me a ride down south, and we packed plenty of memories into that evening and the following day. We went on an interesting hike that was more vertical than horizontal, got shakes at the Malt Shop (that's what the store's called), went swimming, went to the delicious little Mexican restaurant on Main Street and to a drive-in movie. We also got lost on the way to a s'mores fest with the local Young Single Adult Ward and went to the Manti Temple.

I can't stop thinking about that trip. During one of our deeper conversations about life, Ashley looked at me and said, "I can trust you, can't I?"

A warm glow, mingled with some unease because I wasn't sure what to expect next (I need not have worried), spread through me. I work hard to foster trust with people, but very few of my friends actually talk to me about their deepest hopes, dreams and fears.

Sometimes, because I don't have many friends I talk to about deep things, I feel superficial with them, as though I only keep them around so I can hold them up and say, "I have x number of friends. People like me. I'm popular."

The truth goes more like this: I simply can't bring myself to let anyone go. My definition of "friend" includes most of the people I meet; the ones I really connect with are mentally termed "CLOSE friends," and once I've labeled someone a close friend, I won't ever let them go. I still keep in contact with nearly all of my close friends from elementary school, high school and college.

It's been a long time since I added another person to my close friends. In fact, many of the people I was once close to have systematically moved outside to the generic "friend" label... 99 percent of them not from lack of effort on my part.

I'm grateful to have another person to add to my close friends.

Denver

Wow, did I have a good time in Denver! The journalism program I was there for was very small, only 14 participants and six staff members from the Society of Professional Journalists.

There were three of us from BYU: Emma, Grace and me, so it was nice to have a de facto group to hang out with if needed, but the truth is I hardly needed it at all. I made friends not only with the five other student journalists, all three of us made friends with the six pros!

I made a lot of great memories and have tons of stories from the weekend, but in the interest of keeping your interest I'll stick with my favorite story.

Classes on Saturday ended at 5:30 p.m. The SPJ gave us the evening off to venture through Denver. As Tara (one of the teachers) prepared to release us, she asked if anyone had any plans. I thought to myself, Emma and Grace and I have plans, and stood up.

"We're going to go to Writers Square, a candy shop and a Vietnamese restaurant for dinner. You're welcome to come with us."

Everyone stared at me. You could have heard crickets chirping in the silence. Wow, now everyone thinks we're lame, I thought as I sat back down.

Tara glanced around. "Anyone else? No? Well, we are ready to unleash you on Denver."

As soon as she said that, a bunch of people came over to us and asked when and where we were meeting to go to Writers Square and the candy store. I was amazed and flattered. All the pros (except the staff) wanted to hang out with us! We ended up with almost everyone at the program.

I had a blast!

Curse of the old computer

With less than five minutes left on the clock, tensions were high in the newsroom of the small weekly newspaper.

The printer called just as John's computer program crashed. The paper layout he and the other staff members had worked on all day and several hours yesterday was halted in the export process.

Teri referred the call to Suzanne, who talked with the printer for a few minutes, hung up and announced in a resigned tone,

"He says he'll have to get to it tomorrow."

Bryon and John protested.

"It's all laid out. All we have to do is distill and send it!" John said.

"I bet we could have it to them by five," Bryon said.

"He has guys who have to leave right at five," Suzanne said, and left briefly to arrange for the paper to be picked up and delivered first thing in the morning.

There was a moment of silence, and then Bryon leaned back in his chair and looked at me. "I want you to know, Jessica, I think we've been very restrained in our comments today."

Meaning, if I wasn't here, there would've been much more swearing in the newsroom today as John wrestled with his glitchy computer and Bryon scrambled to get last-minute information.

I looked at John. "Thank you, John." He smirked.

"Not just from John," Bryon said. "Me, too."

I looked at Bryon. "Thank you, Bryon."

... and so the small paper saga continues... I told you my coworkers were thoughtful. Haha

Seriously, it sucks that we missed our deadline because of things out of our control, but hopefully the county keeps spinning until the Messenger hits the stands later than usual.

Jade Thief, part 1

I've been working on something new recently. Well, really the only "new" thing about it is the time period it's written in. If you're familiar with my character preferences, Jade won't surprise you at all. I hope you enjoy.
---
The man was following me. I was sure of it. I also had a pretty good idea who he was working for.

Hoping I was wrong but deep down knowing better, I picked up the pace a little and slipped one hand casually in the pocket of my jacket.

“Uh-uh. Hands where I can see them,” a voice emerged from the darkness of an apartment stairwell. I stopped, knowing who it was. Knowing it had only been a matter of time before he caught up to me. Reluctantly, I released the handle of my knife and eased my hand back into the open.

“Garm. Funny, meeting you here,” I said, smoothly.

“Jade. I’ve heard stories about you,” he replied, giving me a once-over. “Frankly, I’m not impressed.”

“I haven’t heard much about you,” I responded, matching his tone and condescending glance. “Now I know why: there’s nothing worth mentioning.”

He glared.

“You’ve been playing both sides, Garm,” I said, making my voice deadly quiet. “You’re outmatched here. Surrender and I’ll ask my boss to let you off lightly.”

The traitor didn’t look overly concerned. Casually, he drew his pistol and pulled back the hammer. “How about you surrender to me, and in return, I’ll let you live. Under certain conditions.”

“Uh huh.” I sensed Garm’s man, my shadow, close behind me. Only a few more steps... “What kind of conditions?” I asked, just to keep Garm talking.

“You tell me where your boss’ secret warehouse is- and you help make me disappear to a place where he’d never find me.” Garm’s eyes glinted.

“I can make you disappear, all right,” I agreed as I whirled, catching both my shadow and my prey by surprise. A subtle movement of my thumb and forefinger and the man dropped the piece of pipe he was holding. And then I was standing behind him with his arms wrenched painfully behind his back, holding my knife to his throat and looking meaningfully at Garm. “Put that gun down and keep your hands where I can see them.”

Garm’s lips twisted- perhaps he remembered saying those very words to me a few minutes ago. He frowned, but he didn’t drop the pistol. “You think I care about a lowly mercenary? Go ahead; knife him. You’ll both be dead before you take another breath.” He put all the bluster he could into the words.

I studied him for a second, then heaved a sigh and released my hostage. Immediately, the thug whirled and knocked the knife from my grasp. I was ready for this trick. Feigning weakness, I let him drop the knife. Then I threw my weight forward hard, surprising him and knocking him off balance.

It would’ve been nice if the thug knocked into Garm before he fell- but Garm was too fast. He took two quick steps back and squeezed the trigger of his pistol.

Fast as he was, I was faster- already diving below the shot and drawing a smaller gun from a hidden holster on my forearm. I fired once, and Garm let out a howl and clutched his trigger finger. The pistol dropped to the ground.

I stepped quickly forward, squeezing off a second bullet to encourage the mercenary to stay where he was while I kicked his gun back behind me. The third shot took Garm in the shin, just in case he tried to run. He screamed.

“Jade, please!” he blubbered as I collected my knife from where it lay, keeping my gun trained on the thug at all times. “We can make a deal. I tell you all I know about the Shiian, and in return you don’t turn me over to your boss.”

“I’m sorry, Garm.” I didn’t even try to pretend he could bargain. “I’m not authorized to accept any last-minute pleas for mercy. I’m sure my boss will hear you out before he unlocks your secrets.”

I glanced at the thug. "I don't have orders to retrieve any of Garm's lackeys. Don't make me regret it."

The thug slowly got to his feet. "'Course not. I was never here. But if you ever need a favor..."

Good. He understood. I gestured with the gun. "Get out of here."

The guy picked up his pipe and disappeared. I sheathed my knife, then tapped out a quick coded message on my fist-sized walkie-talkie.

Less than a minute later, a post van pulled up to the apartment building. When two men got out and made their way to the stairwell, Garm fainted. I was glad; it saved me the trouble of knocking him unconscious.

The men didn't speak to me, but when they opened the back of the van and slid Garm in, I climbed in with him and they closed the doors.

It was time to make a delivery.
--
Clark watched the van pull away from the apartment building and thumbed the TALK button on his radio. "I've got a ten ninety-nine and a ten thirty-one. The 10-99 matches the description we're looking for. She disarmed two others in a short scuffle. A middle-aged white male was just taken away in a postal van. Subject let the second man go. Sir, I think we may have found her. Over."

The radio came to life as soon as Clark finished speaking. "Do you have a plate number?"

Clark raised his binoculars again and stared at the van through the second-story apartment window, but it disappeared too quickly for him to see the numbers on its license plate. "Negative. I couldn't make it out, but it's heading north on Mill Street."

"I'll send out a general alert," the other said. "See if you can find the man on foot."

"Copy that," Clark said. "Entering silent mode. Pursuit in progress."

His sergeant acknowledged, and Clark took out his earpiece and plugged it in. While he searched for the second man in the alley, he would only be able to communicate with the sergeant with the number pad in his pants pocket, but the sergeant would be able to talk to him through the earpiece.

His heartbeat quickened as he took the stairs three at a time. The woman he'd seen was the one they were looking for, he was sure of it. If he could find the man she'd let go, chances seemed good they would apprehend her at last.

This was the closest they'd ever been to the one called Jade.

TeddyPuppy in Manti

TeddyPuppy is my number one fan here in Manti. :-)

A perfect day in California

I got to see my Draper family a couple weeks ago when Mom, sister Mel, super awesome friend Jennifer and I took a road trip over Memorial Day weekend. Jennifer's parents let us stay with them for a few days and treated us really well. I love Jen's family!

My "perfect day" was Saturday. It started with biscuits and gravy, continued with a trip to the Sacramento LDS temple and Nathaniel's baptism, and finished with fun at the park by the Drapers' and homemade Mexican food. (Jennifer's mom and dad are THE BEST cooks!)

Keeping busy in Manti

I have two months before my mission. Looking for a temporary job was never in my plan. But a couple weeks ago, an opportunity landed in my lap that was too good to pass up.

I've always wanted to be part of a small-town newspaper staff. I guess I thought working on a small staff in a small town would be as close, professionally, as I could get to the old feeling of working on the UCAS Ascent, my high school newspaper. The Ascent is where I really caught the journalism bug. I loved watching the staff come together and create something tangible. I loved being involved in every step of the creative process. I loved that the all the members of the staff were friends. Man, we had some good times.

The Sanpete Messenger has turned out to be sort of like that, but with a constant cloud of stress and busyness hanging over us that comes from having too many things we want to cover and too few hands to do it. Counting me, we have four regular writers. Sanpete County has 13 cities and two school districts.

I'll only be here for a month, and although I like Manti well enough, I find myself counting down the days. The first paper I helped put out gets delivered tomorrow, and I can't wait. Getting published is really one of the biggest things that draws me to this job, and to boot, one of my stories will be on the front page!

I like my coworkers. I especially look up to the grumpiest and most inappropriately humorous one of the lot- John. He's a drama king, has a colorful vocabulary, and drinks too much coffee, but he's never unkind, has a quick wit and is a darn good reporter. I don't think anything scares him.

The other writer, Bryon, is also the managing editor. He's a much softer kind of nice and less loud than John.

Terri, our receptionist/advertising biller, is like a female version of John. She's very entertaining, to say the least. Nikki, who keeps the phone book updated, is typically pretty quiet, but has a dry humor that plays well with John and Terri. Out of everyone, I'm probably best friends with her. Alison is an intern from Snow College who's very quiet and keeps to herself. I'm not sure what she does- I think she might work with Terri.

Suzanne, the publisher/reporter/advertising seller, is talkative, easily distracted, very quality-driven, generous and thoughtful. She's letting me stay in one of her townhouses for free, and has been giving me rides to and from work.

Yesterday was what John calls Newspaper Day, when all four writers (John, Bryon, me and Suzanne) work writing, editing and laying out the paper. I started work at 9, took a two-hour break at 5 and then helped out in the office until 10:30. It was the first time I saw the amazing view Manti has of the stars. I was TIRED, though. On the way home that night, Suzanne told me stories about staying in the office as late as 3 am- and then getting up at 7 the next day! Thank heaven Monday only comes around once a week.