She shook her head. The same one, she replied. He’s had a terrible time with it — that thing about Puerto Ricans going to New York.
Damn, I said. I thought he finished that a long time ago.
No, she said. They kept giving him new assignments. But this one has to be in today — that’s what he’s doing now.
I shrugged. Hell, he shouldn’t worry about it. One story more or less on a sloppy paper like this doesn’t make much difference.
About six hours later, I found out that it did make a difference, although not in the way I had meant. After breakfast I walked with Chenault to the bank, then I went to work. It was just about six when Yeamon came back from wherever he had been all afternoon. I nodded to him, then watched with mild curiosity as Lotterman called him over to the desk. I want to talk to you about that emigration story, he said. Just what in hell are you trying to put over on me?
Yeamon looked surprised. What do you mean?
Lotterman suddenly began to shout. I mean you’re not getting away with it! You spent three weeks on that story and now Segarra tells me it’s useless!
Yeamon’s face turned red and he leaned toward Lotterman as if he were going to grab his throat. Useless? he said quietly. Why is it. . . useless?
Lotterman was as angry as I’d ever seen him, but Yeamon looked so threatening that he quickly changed his tone — just slightly, but enough to notice. Listen, he said. I’m not paying your salary so you can write magazine articles– what the hell were you thinking about when you turned in twenty-six pages of copy?
Yeamon leaned forward. Break it up, he replied. You don’t have to run it all at once.
Lotterman laughed. Oh — so that’s it! You want me to run a serial — you’re looking for a Pulitzer Prize, eh? He stepped forward and raised his voice again. Yeamon, when I want a serial I’ll ask for a serial — are you too dense to understand that?
Everyone was watching now and I half expected Yeamon to scatter Lotterman’s teeth all over the newsroom. When he spoke I was surprised at his calm. Look, he said sharply, you asked for a story on why Puerto Ricans leave Puerto Rico — right?
Lotterman stared at him.
Okay, so I worked on the story for a week — not three, if you remember that other crap you gave me — and now you’re yelling because it’s twenty-six pages long! Well, goddamnit it should have been sixty pages long! If I’d written the story I wanted to write you’d be run out of town for publishing it!
Lotterman seemed uncertain. Well, he said after a pause, if you want to do a sixty-page story that’s your business — but if you want to work for me I’ll have that story in a thousand words for tomorrow morning’s paper.
Yeamon smiled faintly. Segarra’s good at that sort of thing — why don’t you have him condense it?
Lotterman swelled up like a toad. What are you saying? he shouted. That you won’t do it?
Yeamon smiled again. I was just wondering, he said, if you’ve ever had your head twisted.
What’s that? snapped Lotterman. Did I hear you threaten to twist my head?
Yeamon smiled. A man never knows when his head might get twisted.
Good God! Lotterman exclaimed. You sound like a nut, Yeamon — people get locked up for saying things like that!
Yes indeed, Yeamon replied. Heads get TWISTED! He said this in a loud voice and made a violent twisting gesture with his hands, never taking his eyes off Lotterman.
Now Lotterman seemed genuinely alarmed. You are a nut, he said nervously. Maybe you’d better resign, Yeamon — right now.
Oh no, Yeamon said quickly. No chance of that — I’m too busy.
Lotterman was getting shaky. I knew he didn’t want to fire Yeamon, because he’d have to give him a month’s severance pay. After a pause, he said again: Yes, Yeamon, I think you’d better resign. You don’t seem happy here — why don’t you quit?