Correcting the Landscape by Marjorie Kowalski Cole Read Free Book Online

again, I’ll ask for it. Start tomorrow? Start today?”
    â€œHe’s still on Irish time,” No protested. “And he hasn’t a place to stay.”
    â€œAhadoe’s dear,” Felix murmured.
    No and the Sheedys always said “Aggadoe.” His voice was like an animal’s breath. No and I smiled at each other. A different way of doing things, of looking at things.
    â€œYou’ve landed here in the midst of a few breaking stories. I could use some help,” I said. “There’s a book down at the public library I’d like you to read. You could do a story on speculation for us. If we like it, we’ll buy it. And I think we probably will like it. You’re welcome to stay at my place for a few nights, while you get settled—I have an extra room. Don’t I, No? Sometimes I forget, I’m there so seldom.”
    â€œI’ll take you out there,” she said to Felix.
    â€œIsn’t anybody going to work today?” I said. “We have a paper to get out.”
    â€œOh yeah,” said Noreen, as if she were telling Felix where to find the bathroom. “Deadline is Thursday at five. Then the paper goes downtown to press.”
    â€œHeaven,” I said. “An unusual name.”
    â€œThink of Evans,” he said. “It’s a local form of Evans.”
    â€œThe perspective of a newcomer would be useful on this book, and the whole controversy. I’d be curious what you think of it, Felix Heaven. Read the book, talk to both sides, stick with other people’s words as much as you can.”
    He touched his mouth with his fingertips. An odd, delicate gesture.
    â€œSo this would be a book one could easily find in most big cities, but not here?” he said.
    â€œWhat do you make of that?”
    â€œWe have some experience with censorship back home. In the long run, it makes life hard for young people, I think. So much to catch up with, later on.”
    I felt a certain relief at this mild expression of opinion, and to hear something of a personal nature from this cool young man. As if the initiation into our group was one simple item of personal revelation. Who are you, Felix? I’m a man who can be honest, if not forthcoming. Noreen smiled. Nice to see that, after her recent distress. She hadn’t been too happy with me either, lately.
    Felix looked around at our modest, chaotic office. A messy crib signals much increase, it says in one of the psalms, or something like that; these three small rooms signaled plenty. I heard the thump of a columnist, bringing in his latest tirade. The wooden floors creaked with his approach. My paper, the Mercury , bold and unmistakable.
    â€œAs free and independent as the birds,” said Felix, reading the masthead on an old issue, and looking satisfied.
    I didn’t quiz him about his visa or green card. Writing stories, freelance—that’s not any kind of serious job. Not the best pay either. But second day in America and the kid had work.

FOUR
    Communities in which controversy does not thrive are dead on their feet .
    â€”K EN P ARKER , B E I NDEPENDENT ! S TART Y OUR O WN N EWSPAPER
    S OMETIMES WINTER CLOSES DOWN ON FAIRBANKS like a cell door. This was one of those winters, arriving with a bitter Halloween. Poor trick-or-treating kids, feeling real pain under their masks and bedsheets, could hardly see as they stumbled from door to door on frozen feet, their fingers burning with cold, Mom or Dad waiting in the car. My neighbor’s boy wore a battery-operated mask that was supposed to drip blood when you hit a hidden switch. The whole thing broke apart in the cold at the second house he visited.
    People were naturally drawn to the warm firebox of controversy. A challenged book at the library and an extremely provocative timber concessions bill promised halfway decent newspaper sales; the subscription list even grew a bit. You never can predict what will fire up the