The Sound of Us

Chapter Eleven. “Centerfield” by John Fogerty

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Centerfield” by John Fogerty

DANTE

Noah didn’t do meetings if he could avoid them. He especially didn’t do meetings in his office involving more than one person because it meant he had to clean off his chairs. So, when he called me in to a meeting with Siobhan on Saturday morning, I was instantly on edge.

“What’s this about?” I asked Siobhan while we waited for Noah.

“I have no idea. The internship is all but settled so maybe it has to do with getting you to do some actual work at the station like the rest of us.” She lifted a box off one of the chairs while I cleared papers off the other.

I had a sinking feeling in my chest. Skye had been visibly upset after her newscast and had left the station before I could go after her. By the time the next show host arrived to take over, she was no longer in the building.

“Who did he pick?”

“Raj is the obvious choice.” Siobhan sat in the chair closest to Noah’s desk. “Six-time winner of the John Drury High School Radio Award, president of his high school radio club, and two years working at his local radio station before he came to Havencrest.”

“Is that the dude who didn’t know the difference between a bass and a six-string guitar?”

“At least he didn’t go off on a rant about drunk drivers during the on-air test like Skye…” Siobhan snorted a laugh. “Talk about OTT.”

“Skye gave an interesting commentary about that drunk-driving developer,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and even. “She did what journalists are supposed to do.”

“Why are you defending her? Journalists are supposed to report facts, not opinions, and especially not opinions that are not backed up by facts, and double especially not in a voice dripping with emotion. Raj, on the other hand, was pure professionalism.”

“I haven’t made any final decisions,” Noah said behind us. “Let’s not jump the gun.”

“I asked Raj his favorite band and he told me it was Limp Bizkit,” I said, angling to get in at least one dig at the otherwise perfect candidate.

“Noooo.” All three of us were momentarily united in our disdain for the whole “nu metal” genre which had dated very quickly.

“Despite his one flaw, he’s the best candidate,” Siobhan said. “Skye won’t fit in. She’s a sports person.”

“So is the intern we hired at the end of last semester,” Noah said. “Chad is on the soccer team. He read the news like a sportscaster. And you were happy with my choice even though his favorite band is Nickelback.”

We all groaned again. Nickelback made almost every top ten list of Most Hated Bands.

“He’s Canadian,” Siobhan said. “It’s in their DNA.”

“I didn’t fit in, and Noah gave me a chance.” I was taking a risk backing Skye, but I had a strong feeling Noah already knew she was the person I’d been talking about when I first brought up the funding.

Siobhan laughed, but there was something brittle about the sound. “Are you kidding me? You are the living, breathing epitome of an indie radio DJ. You know everything about every indie band that ever existed. You can put playlists together in your sleep, go on air with no prep, and get ratings so high we need to request extra phone lines to deal with all your fans. You’re in an indie band. You play, speak, and dress indie radio. Your problem, Dante, is that you do fit in, and you just can’t accept it.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Siobhan had a way of seeing right through me and it was annoying as hell.

“And I didn’t ask for you to suddenly show up and get involved in staffing decisions when you haven’t taken an interest in what goes on here in years,” she snapped, finally revealing the reason for her rant.

“Let’s put a pin in yet another heated debate,” Noah said, holding up his hand in a placating gesture. “We have several good candidates: Julie, Pavel, Roman… I also liked Raj. He’s got the most radio experience, but he doesn’t know much about music. Skye has no broadcast experience, but we had a great conversation, and she knows her bands.”

“We already have a Sporty Spice intern,” Siobhan protested. “We need some variety.”

“Skye doesn’t do sports anymore.” Noah’s face softened. “She suffered serious injuries in a car accident that took the life of her father, and she lost her place on the basketball team.”

“Oh God…” Siobhan groaned. “Your heart is bleeding again.”

“I like to take the whole person into consideration when I’m choosing an intern,” Noah said. “Not just the parts that meet the criteria for the job. Leave it with me. I’ll pick the best candidate, as I always do.”

“Why did you call us in?” I had a feeling Noah was going to go with Siobhan’s choice, and I wanted to move on from the conversation in case I tipped my hand by pushing for Skye.

Noah sighed. “The university is moving ahead with its plans to repurpose our space, and I’m going to need all-hands-on-deck to save the station.”

“Can they do that?” Siobhan’s eyes widened in horror. “The station has been operating from the basement for over fifty years.”

“It’s their property. They are running out of space and it’s easier to repurpose than put up new buildings.” Noah slumped in his chair. He’d worked straight through the summer without a break, and it showed. Wrinkles had appeared at the corners of his eyes and mouth, making him look older than his fifty-five years.

“Aside from the fact that I’d be out of a job,” he continued, “I don’t want to see the university lose one of the best campus radio stations in the country. No one does the kind of programming we do. No one gives as much airtime to diverse voices, disruptors, and new bands. We need to make the university realize just what they would be losing.”

“What’s your plan?” Noah always had a plan. He came across as chill and relaxed, but that was only because he’d already looked ahead to what had to be done.

“I’m going to turn my focus to raising our profile. That means more time on the road and less time managing the station. We’re going to be relying heavily on our volunteers and I need everyone to pitch in. We need to work as a team.”

I sensed this was going somewhere I didn’t want to go. “And you need us…?”

“To lead by example.” Noah fixed me with a firm stare. “Except for the paid employees, you, Nick, and Siobhan are the most senior volunteers at the station. Starting tomorrow, I am going to strictly enforce the ten-hour weekly volunteer requirement. I can’t give you special treatment without starting down a slippery slope.”

“I’m happy to help in any way I can,” Siobhan said, shooting me a smug, sideways glance that told me her offer wasn’t just coming from the goodness of her heart. Siobhan had managed to convince Noah to appoint her assistant manager even though the station had never had an assistant manager before. Sometimes I wondered if she wanted to take over. She loved the station and had always put in way more than her required volunteer hours, but Noah had been around for twenty-five years, and he’d told me once he intended to be around for twenty-five more.

“Ten hours of what?” My hands curled around the arms of the chair. “I’m not going to sell hot dogs in the quad or march in the homecoming parade waving a WJPK flag. This is my last year, Noah. I need to focus on my grades, or I won’t get into law school.”

“It’s my last year, too,” Siobhan pointed out. “But I’m willing to help out.”

Noah lifted an eyebrow. He didn’t appreciate ass-kissing, even from one of his favorite volunteers. “We need help with volunteers, managing the interns, organizing the library… whatever you want, but I’ll tell you right now, you’re either all in, or I give your show to someone who can make that commitment.”

Every muscle in my body tightened. My show wasn’t just a way to share my love of music and keep my listeners entertained. It was a way of connecting with people and giving them a catharsis for their pain. It was my way of vocalizing the emotions I couldn’t otherwise share. It was my respite, my outlet, the one place I could be me. It was everything.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would,” Noah said. “I’ve let you do your own thing long enough. We are a family here at the station and being part of a family means pulling together in times of need.”

“I’m not walking away from the show.”

I won’t abandon you.

Noah had saved me. He’d always been there for me, and never asked anything in return. The station was his life. How could I not return the favor?

“Then you know what you have to do.” Noah smiled. “Welcome back to WJPK.”