



I would photocopy the whole issue and post it here, but I can't imagine that going over well with Mr. Drew Harris. Anyway, it isn't impressive enough to share, however I'll say it's a bold and concerning move to not credit reporters and article writers. Not one person was credited in the whole newspaper (I use the term "newspaper" loosely, since The Babbling Brook really resembles a glorified bulletin). There is only "written by The Babbling Brook Staff" printed on the first page. Nettlebrook is dizzy for uniformity. I never could stand that. I don't know what possessed me to stay here all those years. I suppose I was lucky I got out at all...





As for an update since my correspondence with the Brook's new editor-in-chief, well, I took Mr. Harris up on his offer to meet. I ankled over to the more cushy side of town and finally revisited The Babbling Brook Printing Press. There, I asked to speak to Mr. Harris. When he came out, he struck me as more of a newsie than an editor-in-chief. Carmen had mentioned he was young, but I had not expected him to be freshly graduated from college. Silly me. This is Nettlebrook. When you're a member of a founding family, you take up the mantel as soon as the spot opens up, and you stay there til you bite the dust.





It was a brief meeting. He said he's a "busy man" and I held back a scoff. We sat in his office, he behind his large oaken desk and I in a stiff wooden chair too small for any adult.





He was unnervingly happy to see me, grinning with an eerie nothing in his clear blue eyes. I could tell he was savoring this. I, the thorn in Nettlebrook's side for a decade, seemingly submitting before him, the eager-to-please tycoon-to-be. I almost feel bad for him. I thanked him for the kind announcement in the Brook.





"It was our pleasure. You weren't easy to track down, Hunter, but we heard whispers of your return for weeks and wanted to find out for ourselves. To properly welcome you." Mr. Harris's delivery was hardly convincing. I smiled wryly back at him.





He continued: "You know, I was thinking, the Brook is expanding into the realm of the Internet and I was wondering if you would be featured in our first Citizen Spotlight video? It would be a short interview of sorts. I think it would be a great way to integrate you back into society."





"I prefer to keep my head down," I said.





"Do you?" Mr. Harris pantomimed surprise. "That is fascinating to hear. You know, I heard that you used to show up everywhere back in the day. You left a bold impression on a lot of people around here... But if you would prefer not to do the video, I understand." Mr. Harris leaned back in his chair and his smile dimmed a watt, "I mean, I'm sure you have personal projects taking up your free time now. I wouldn't want to keep you from those."





I chuckled, genuinely surprised by his boldness. He stared at me, silently, the ghost of a smile barely clinging to his lips and the same old nothing in his eyes. Finally, I politely said, "I appreciate the offer, Mr. Harris. I'll have to think about it."





Before I got up and left the room, Mr. Harris piped up again, "Hunter, I almost forgot to ask. How's that brother of yours doing?"





"He's well," I said.





"Great, great," Mr. Harris said nonchalantly, then added, "Best keep your eye on him."





"And why's that?"





Mr. Harris's face filled with pretend sincerity again. "I mean, he lives out in the woods, all on his own, and it's getting cold. Just wouldn't want something bad to happen to him, you know?"





I smiled, unperturbed. "Of course."





I left and breezed back home. Mr. Harris is clearly no knucklehead, but I can smell a chiseling from a mile away. If they wanted and were able to bump off my brother, they would have done it twenty years ago. They would have done it in the twenty years since. I'm not buying Mr. Harris's threat.





But he is playing at something. I don't know what yet. What would he gain from interviewing me? What's his aim? And how much of a puppet is he?





We'll have to wait and see.





Stay safe.

HH

I received an e-mail asking to see my copy of The Babbling Brook, so I thought I would share it publicly on here for all my readers to witness it in all its small town glory (and unfortunate formatting).