Nighthawks

Nighthawks (The Story)

For school, we had to have a title, and I couldn't really think of one, and Lost and Found fit okay, so I used that.  But for now im just going to call it Nighthawks.

so this is the actual STORY i wrote for it. short, yeah, but it couldn't be a novel. if you'd like me to maybe write some more based on this, i probably could....

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nighthawks: The Story

RING. RING. RING.  Margaret answered her phone as she walked into her quaint, well decorated home.  “Margaret, this is Tom speaking.  There is a very important client meeting tomorrow night in St. Louis.  I need you there.  Our train leaves at 10 am and we will be back on Saturday.”

“Tomorrow is May 10th.  Sorry, I can’t make it.”  Margaret opened the refrigerator and held the receiver to her ear with her shoulder while she took out some leftovers to warm up.

“Did you not hear me? This meeting is very important.  Attendance is MANDATORY,” Tom yelled.  Margaret rolled her eyes; he certainly had a short temper.

“I have important plans, and I couldn’t change them for anything,” Margaret said quietly, turning the stove on.

Tom sighed. “Well then Margaret, turning down this, uh, MANDATORY meeting could very well cost you your job.  I’ll have to find a replacement.  And what a shame, you were our best secretary yet.  But very well, in these times many people are searching for jobs.  I’m sure I can find someone.”

“Well, thanks, sir, for the opportunity.  It was a pleasure to work with you.  Sorry I won’t be able to make it.”

“Oh grea- wait, what?!  You’re really not coming?  You’d lose your job just over one meeting?!” Tom couldn’t believe it.  He thought he could get her to stay, but Margaret was always the persistent one.

“No, sir, I am not coming.  As I said earlier, I can’t and won’t change my plans.  Thank you for the opportunity.  Goodbye.” Margaret hung up the phone and sighed.  There was no way she could miss tomorrow night, not for a job, not for anything.  It wasn’t such a big deal anyway.  There were other jobs out there, and she had enough money to get by for now, but she would definitely need a new job sooner or later.  She didn’t have a husband or kids, so she had to work herself to make the money she needed. 

She finally started working a couple years ago when she moved away from her family, not long after her three older brothers.  Now in the Great Depression, work was hard to come by.  Maybe she would visit the editor’s office this week and see if any journalist positions were open; her family and friends had always told her she would make a good journalist, due to her interest in what goes on in the world and her writing skills.  She remembered interviewing her family and neighbors often when she was little, writing short articles every once and a while with William, her best friend.  Margaret smiled to herself at the memory and went on to fixing dinner.

The following day, Margaret was at the train station.  It was full of people going in and out, boarding and leaving trains, and the ticket lines were extremely long – as usual.  Instead of going to St. Louis, Margaret boarded her train to Chicago at 2 pm.  She had gotten the very last ticket available.  With only a few stops, the train reached Chicago in just over six hours.  Margaret had about an hour to spare after leaving the train station, so she walked around the city; looking in shop windows and watching a few late workers leave their jobs.  Chicago was so busy, much different from Bridgeport; the shops there would be closed by now, most people home.  Although it was different, Margaret always enjoyed coming here and seeing the thriving city, full of buildings still lit up, people out in some of the stores and bars, and all of it totally awake this late at night.