TRIBUNE DAYS             “What’s with Jim?” I asked.           “He’s okay,” Bill said.  “He’s under a lot of pressure.  He’s married with two kids.”           “Wow,” I said.  “He’s young.”           Bill nodded, “And he cares so much about the paper.”           “How’s your story coming?” I asked.           “I’m done,” he said.           “Excuse me?”           “I’ve been done for a couple of hours.  I have a date tonight and I want to leave early.  I’m going to hand my story in last and hope Jim won’t have anything else for me to do.” “What are you typing up there?” I asked in amazement.           “Nothing,” he said.  “I’m just pretending.”           We went back to the newsroom.  Bill sat down at his desk and immediately started typing.  I began to laugh.           “Becky, what’s going on?” Gwen asked.           “Bill told me a joke when we were outside,” I said and I started to laugh harder.           “Can I see you in the bathroom?” Gwen asked.           “Can I tell her, Bill?  Please,” I asked.  “If I don’t tell somebody I’ll burst.  Gwen’s okay.”           Bill shrugged.  I told Gwen the story in the bathroom.  “Bill?” she asked wide-eyed.  “Oh,” she said, “that’s not possible.  Bill’s too quiet and shy to do that.”           “That’s what he told me,” I said.           “He’s not typing anything?” she asked.           “No,” I said.           “Becky, that’s not possible,” she said again.           We went back to the newsroom and she passed in front of his desk.  “Is it true?” she asked.           Bill patted the pile of papers next to his typewriter, nodded his head and grinned.           She sat down.  It took about a minute.  The laugh started out low  and got louder and louder.  She almost fell out of her chair.           Jim Cassell, the editor of the Tribune, came out of his office in the back.  “Gwen, what is going on?” he asked.  “I haven’t heard you laugh like that in years.”           “Can I tell him, Bill?” she asked.           “No, Gwen,” Bill said, “it’s my job.”           “Jim’s okay,” Gwen said.  “We used to be reporters together.  He’ll enjoy this story.”           Bill shrugged.           Gwen and Jim went back into his office.  After a minute we heard Jim ask incredulously, “Our Bill?”           Jim Davis looked around the room.  “Am I missing something?” he asked.           Gwen came back out and sat down.  Five minutes later Jim came out of his office into the newsroom.  “How’s everything going tonight, Jim?” he asked.           “Just fine,” Jim answered.  “We’re on the clock system tonight.  I should be home by twelve o’clock.  My wife won’t believe it.”           “I heard,” Jim said. “Excellent.”   He came to my desk.  “How is everything here?” he asked.  “Do you think you’ll have your story done on time?”           “I’m just fine,” I said.  “Yes, the story will be done on time.”           “Very good,” Jim said.  “Are you happy?  Happy reporters make good writers.”           “I’m very happy,” I said.           Jim made his way around to every reporter making sure they were on schedule and happy.  His last stop was Bill’s desk.  “How’s everything here?” he asked.  “Do you think you’ll get your story done on time?”           Bill looked serious.  “I’m trying.  I think I will.”           “I’ve gained a new respect for you tonight,” Jim said.           “Thank you,” Bill said.           “But we can’t have this happen too often,” Jim said.           “Oh no, absolutely not,” Bill said.           “Good luck on getting your story done,” Jim said.           “I’m typing as fast as I can,” Bill said.           Jim went back into his office.  We heard a roar of laughter.           “I told you,” Gwen said to Bill.           “Am I missing something?’ Jim asked.           The evening proceeded smoothly and Jim Davis was so happy he even said “thank you” as the reporters brought him their stories on time.           At exactly nine forty-five, Bill stood up and walked to Jim’s desk with his story.  He yawned.  “I’m a little tired tonight,” he said.  “I hope you don’t have anything else for me.  I would like to go home and go to bed.”           “I think we’re in good shape,” Jim said.  “You go on home.”           Jim yelled from his office in the back, “You get a good night’s sleep, Bill.”           Jim looked confused.  “Am I missing something?” he asked.           Both Jims were at Jim Davis’s desk as I was leaving.  I said to Jim Cassell, “I hope everything’s okay.  He told me and I just had to tell Gwen.”           “I earned a new respect for that young man tonight,” Jim said.           I nodded.  “It was a stunning performance.”           Jim flung his arm into the air, “Worthy of an Oscar,” he said.           Jim Davis was looking from one of us to the other in confusion.           As I was leaving, Jim Cassell was putting his arm around Jim Davis’s shoulder.  “Jim,” he said, “you’re going to enjoy this story.”             COMING NEXT – THE SKIRT RIDE-UP PROBLEM?