Lara Nalle insisted on meeting me. I was anxious. After all, she was a well-known journalist, and yet she wanted to interview me. Hmmm, had I done something wrong, somewhere? Was she going to ambush me in this interview? Was I being too paranoid? Since her call yesterday, my anxieties have been growing exponentially.
“This is ridiculous,’ I told myself. “You have never done anything criminal. What in the world are you so nervous about?”
The doorbell rang. This was it. She entered the room, shook my hand and sat down facing me. Not a hair was out of place. Her suit looked as though it was newly pressed.
“Call me Lara. Now, let me get right to the point,” she said. “I want to hire you to reinvent me.”
“Huh?” I said intelligently. “Um, how can I do that for you?”
“Well, I have heard that you have helped many people find their true path in life. I am not sure how you do it, but my contacts say that you have special listening skills which allow you to really hear what people are saying under all their surface words. Please, reinvent me,” she requested again.
I didn’t know what to say. I’d never considered that what I did in any way helped a person “reinvent” themselves. How can I explain to her that I am never sure if the “extra’ information will be there for me? What would happen if we talked for a while and no “extra” information came through? Would she be upset and feel betrayed? I have never been in a situation where I had to produce information-on-demand.
Trying to buy myself some time to think about my response, I asked Lara, “Tell me more about yourself and why you want to reinvent yourself.”
“I have been a journalist since graduating from college. My sole goal has always been to uncover illegal secrets and disclose them to the public. I believe that evil cannot survive in the light-of-day or under public scrutiny. Evil can only flourish in the dark and when people are unaware. After 35 years, I am tired. I have spent my whole career looking at the underside of life. I want to start seeing the upper side of life!” she exclaimed.
A little light started to glimmer in the back recesses of my mind. Maybe, Lara just needed to pull back and look at things in totality, verses one-dimensionally. Maybe, this wouldn’t be too hard after all…
“Lara, I’m not sure that you need to reinvent yourself. In your career, you focused your vision microscopically on this country’s “wrong-doers”. However, I suspect, your vision has always been more expansive than you allowed it to be.”
“No! No, no, no!” Lara vehemently interjected. “I mean, you’re right, my vision is, essentially, microscopic. However, I gotta disagree that there are more settings to my vision. When I try to pull back to get another perspective, I just get confused and lose my focus. My stories meander and lose their punch. I can’t get back to my main premise. Plus, my editor then slashes everything I write. Sometimes, they won’t even buy the article. I write better if I can just stay focused on the issues at hand.”
“Better?” I queried. “Or, are you forced to write stories that your editor thinks will sell verses the real story behind the supposed wrong-doing?”
“Supposed! Lara yelled. “Are you saying that I’m making up my stories?!! I would never do that! I have a lot of journalistic integrity. I know there have been a lot of scandals recently about reporters making up their stories. I have never done that. I would never do that!”
“Lara, please calm down.” I said, trying to sound reasonable. “I am simply trying to understand your writing process. I worry when you said that you get confused and lose your focus when trying to obtain another perspective. That says to me that something about your main premise is unable to remain coherent under analysis.
Let’s try an experiment. Interview me as though you thought I was a crook who just defrauded an elderly lady of her life savings. Here are the supposed facts. An elderly woman has brought charges against me. She told the police that she came here with $50,000 in cash. When she left, she did not have all of the money she thought she came with. She could only find $500. She says that I must have drugged her with the tea because she cannot recollect what happened in my apartment.”
I jotted some notes on a piece of paper and put the paper in the desk drawer. I faced Lara. She had a hard, steely look in her eyes. I felt a shiver of anxiety. Why did she look a little out of focus? She seemed way too intent, and I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable.
“Well, what happened here? Why did she come here with $50,000 in the first place?” Lara demanded to know. “Why does this woman not remember what happened in your apartment? What kind of tea did you serve her?”
“Actually, the woman came here with 500 one dollar bills. The bills were stuffed in a bank bag. She left with the bag intact. When she arrived, she announced that she had $50,000 and offered..." I started to say, but quickly Lara cut me off.
"Ah Ha! So you were like one of those gypsies offering to do some outrageous service for the $50,000. Tell me, what you promised to do for the $50,000?" she asked but also managed it as a sneer.
"Well, no actually, she arrived without an appointment. I had not been expecting her..." I tried to explain. I was starting to worry about the outcome of this exercise.
“Why don’t you just come clean? You stole the money and are trying to cover it up. People like you are a plague on society and someone should do something to get you off the streets! It is my duty as a reporter to put the community on notice that a snake like you is living and flourishing in their midst” Lara spewed out at me.
“Lara, Lara! Do you remember that this is just a made-up exercise? You came here asking to be reinvented…”!
“Don’t try to distract me with irrelevant information! I now know what you are. I shall make sure that you don’t get away with it. What was the old lady’s name? No wait, you would probably only lie to me. I shall get it off the police report. I don’t need to talk to you anymore.” Lara said as she rushed from the room.
I was completely flummoxed.
I sat in the chair wondering what had just happened. Was she for real? Good grief, was she on the way to the police station? What had I stirred up? Lara Nalle must be a certifiable nutcase. How could she work at the Daily News? Actually, she did not really seem like a reporter. She seemed able to invent news on-the-spot. What about her claims that she wanted to be reinvented? Was this some sort of horrible practical joke?
The doorbell rang. I opened the door and Lara and a somber and very serious looking police officer were standing in the doorway. I let them into the living room. Lara glared at me. The police officer opened his little black book.
“Ms. Nalle reported a crime perpetrated in your apartment. She stated that you embezzled $49,500 from an elderly woman. We need the woman’s name since we have no police report on file. Please assist us in this investigation and I’ll be able to put a good word in for you” the police officer said in an extremely reassuring manner.
I went to the desk and retrieved the paper I had jotted notes on before starting the exercise with Lara. I handed the paper to the police officer.
Lara: The woman withdrew the money from the bank and the bank teller actually stole $49,500 by giving her 500 one dollar bills (instead of 500 one hundred dollar bills). If you look at the whole picture, you should be able to ferret out the facts. Do not assume anything. By the way, she did not have tea with me.
The police officer looked confused and handed the paper to Lara who paled as she read it.
“Ohh, I am so sorry. I now remember. This really was just an exercise between us. I am so embarrassed! How could this have happened? My god! I must need help.” Lara cried out as she slumped to the sofa.
I walked the police officer to the door after assuring him that I was not planning on any actions against Lara or the station. After closing the door, I turned to face Lara.
What could I say to her? Should I ask her to just leave? We started the exercise so that I could better understand her writing process. She seemed more like a candidate for a creative writing class instead of an investigative reporter.
Bingo!
“Lara, have you ever considered changing careers? How about writing fiction? I know an excellent Creative Writing class just starting…” I told her.
