Page 11 of Reptile Dysfunction
Charlotte seems to be under the impression she has to prove herself when the exact opposite is true. I’ve never known a community more welcoming and kind than Curiosity.
“Give her time,” I say. My snakes relax and move back to resting. I give them a little pet as thanks. “It must be a difficult adjustment, going from hard-hitting stories of corruption to…” I check my calendar for the week. “The annual Venus fly trap competition.”
Boring to some, sure. Pure excitement for me. I adore seeing how all the breeders have trimmed and trained their specimens for this cutthroat competition. Hopefully, no one’s throat gets cut this year.
“You said you assigned her a partner? How’s that going?” I ask, assuming someone strong-willed like Brenda the chimera will be on her heels and telling her where to go.
But Eddie sighs, long and hard. “Could be better, Wendall! Fred’s got his work cut out for him. He’s doing wonderfully, learning how to be a real on-the-scene reporter. Just yesterday, he turned in a story about how the sky is blue, except when it isn’t. Real hard-hitting, philosophical stuff! Of course, it was one sentence scribbled on a used napkin, but we’re getting there. Charlotte, though, she’s ditching him whenever she can.”
“You assigned Fred to be her partner?” I ask, doubting Eddie’s business acumen for the very first time. Fred’s a fine man and a really funny guy, always willing to lend a hand. Literally. But he’s also greatly lacking in brains. Also literally. I wouldn’t give him a task that wasn’t completely straightforward and simple, and journalism is neither. “You’re not concerned that’ll take time away from his weekly article? It’s a real hit with the town.”
Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, that’s why I’ve got him learning the ropes. The town wants more Fred, fewer political smear campaigns. So I intend to give it to them.”
I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. “Well, I wish you luck, Ed.”
“Yeah, same to you. Hopefully, I’ll see you at the fly trap thing. Always a pleasure watching those little guys jerk around, snapping at the air. Absolutely adorable. Anyway, have a good one.”
I push the button to end the call and relax in my chair. Now knowing Charlotte’s story, I can almost understand her motives. I feel sad for her, knowing how much she must have left behind. She was expecting a career in serious investigative journalism and somehow ended up here, where the biggest story is how large of a cabbage Hargoz managed to grow this season.
An idea pops into my head, and my snakes get riled up by it. I open my browser, Ghoulgle, and search for her name. The first thing I find is a picture, and I’m so confused that I have to verify it is actually her several times for myself. But picture after picture on a social media account with her name confirms it.
She’s a gorgeous human woman with thick, curly brown hair that my fingers itch to sink into. Her eyes are big and brown and her features are feminine and delicate, something that seems almost at odds with my mental perception of her as a hard-hitting, nosy journalist. I was picturing someone a little more stocky, perhaps gray-haired – not someone who looks like they were probably prom queen in high school.
I shake my head and try to focus on the original intent of my search. I’m not here to stare at pictures of her pretty face, I’m here to learn more about her background as a reporter. I continue in my search, finding stories about underground crime rings, corrupt police officers, and a city’s landscaping budget being used for the mayor’s personal vacation fund. I’m no stranger to the realities of this world, but the content of these stories makes me shiver. My snakes do the same and attempt to hide behind my head in fear. The idea of any of this happening in Curiosity is horrifying – and ridiculous.
One thing that strikes me about all of these stories, though, is how much evidence she managed to dig up for them. She knows what she’s doing and has shown integrity in her past. In time, I’m sure she’ll remember this part of herself. And then we’ll welcome a new member of this happy community.
7
CHARLOTTE
My lunch break usually gives me just enough time to run across to the other side of town, scarf down a quick lunch at one of the only places in Curiosity that serves human food, and then rush back again. So I’m practically running when I catch sight of Mayor Wendall, who is impossible to miss considering he’s both one of the most attractive men in town and has literal snakes for hair. He’s having a tense chat with Peter Cotes, the town’s most prominent property developer.
Luckily, they’re both so engrossed in the conversation that neither of them catches sight of me as I duck around a corner to listen in on their conversation.
“It’s just not possible right now, Pete,” I hear the mayor say apologetically. “Maybe in the fall.”
“The fall will be too late,” the developer replies. “Once it starts to rain, construction work practically comes to a standstill. We need the permits now so that we can make the most of the good weather. Isn’t there anything you can do?”
Mayor Wendall says something in response, but his words are drowned out by the sound of hooves on cobblestones. When I peer around the corner to catch a glimpse of what’s going on, I see a crowd of satyrs and other hoofed creatures making their way down the street.
“Off to the Commons!” calls a minotaur at the front of the group. “Thanks again, Mason!”
The mayor waves before turning back to Peter Cotes. They shake hands and go their separate ways, leaving me wondering what I missed.
It doesn’t take long for me to put the pieces together, though, and rather than heading to the cafe for lunch, I run all the way back to the Herald office to get started right away.
Mayor Caught in Property Development Scandal, I type eagerly into my computer, finally determined to put my suspicions down on paper.
I spend the rest of the afternoon penning a long-form editorial on the dodgy dealings I know must be going on behind closed doors. Peter Cotes was pushing for rushed approval on a new development project, and with a business as big as his, he can afford to line the pockets of the local politicians to get what he wants. I wouldn’t be surprised if, in a day or two, his firm begins work on a new apartment block or shopping mall.
I shake my head as I type, my fingers flying across the keyboard. I still can’t believe the people of this town buy into Mason’s nice-guy act. If I’ve learned anything in my years as a journalist, it’s that the nice guys are always the worst. I think briefly of Derek, remembering how easily he could shift not just bodies, but mannerisms, facial expressions, and emotions to fool me into believing he was a decent person.
These guys hide behind a facade of generosity and goodness but, as I know all too well, just the slightest scratch will reveal the truth beneath.
This article is that scratch, and I have no doubt that publishing it will bring plenty more allegations. People will be coming out of the woodwork with stories of corruption and bribery. And I’ll be the one to have set those wheels in motion.
When it’s done, I email the draft to Eddie immediately before striding into his office.