Sherryl Woods - The Backup Plan

What is it youre trying so hard not to tell me? she finally asked. Is there something wrong with the piece I just turned in? It was a great interview.

The pictures had been good, too, even if they werent as great as her previous cameramans would have been. But they were better than adequate.

Ray looked even more uncomfortable. For somebody else, maybe, he said with the familiar bluntness Dinah had always respected. Not for you.

On some level Dinah had been anticipating that comment. Still, she stared at him in shock. She wasnt used to being even gently criticized for her work. The many years of accolades from her colleagues in the field and her superiors in their lofty New York towers made her expect praise. What are you saying, Ray? Just spit it out.

It was hot as blazes without air-conditioning in their makeshift newsroom, but Dinah knew that wasnt the reason Ray needed to mop his round face with a handkerchief. He was so nervous that he looked miserable.

Okay, he said eventually. You want the truth, here it is. Youve lost your edge, Dinah. Its understandable, given what happened a few months ago, but

Dinah tuned him out. Nobody ever mentioned the incident in front of her anymore. Not being able to talk about what had happened had been difficult for Dinah. Whenever she brought up the subject of that tragic nightmare, everyones eyes filled with pity as they murmured soothing nonsense and then cut off any further discussion.

That was partly because for weeks after the episode, Dinah had listened dry-eyed to everyones sympathy or made the kind of impersonal, caustic comments that all reporters made to keep their fears and grief at bay. Theyd all taken their cues from her and had stopped discussing it. Now that she was finally able and eager to talk, their grieving was over and they didnt want to be reminded that only through the grace of God had they not been on that deadly roadside. They no longer wanted to face their own mortality, or consider the risks inherent in this hellish assignment.

War correspondents were a special breed of journalists. The burnout rate was high for those who favored ambition over self-preservation.

Theyre asking questions in New York, Ray continued.

That got her attention. What kind of questions? she asked testily. Shed grown complacent about the networks hands-off approach to most of her pieces.

They want to know whether you shouldnt be taking a break, you know, just until youve had time to deal with what happened, Ray said carefully. Youre due some time off, anyway. More than a little, in fact. No one can remember the last time you took a vacation.

Her stomach sank. A break was the last thing she needed. Work defined her. It motivated her to get out of bed in the morning. Turning in one supposedly subpar interview when shed given them dozens of prizewinners and nearly single-handedly earned the up-start cable news operation industry-wide respect deserved better than this treatment.

I dont need time off, she said flatly. I need to keep working.

How about a different assignment then? Ray suggested. Go to the London bureau for a while. Or Paris. Maybe even Miami. Now theres a cushy one. Sunshine, palm trees and beaches.

The image didnt impress her. In the days immediately following what she still thought of as the incident, shed considered quitting. But then she had realized that this was the only work she truly wanted to do. If it was harder, if she was scared every minute of every day, she was determined to overcome her fears. Now when she walked out of the hotel and into uncertainty every single day she considered her actions a personal tribute to the bravery of every correspondent whod died while making sure that the world had a close-up view of the action.

Come on, Ray. Id be wasted in London or Paris. And you can forget about Miami, she said with a shudder. Covering war is what I do. And I do it better than ninety percent of the other reporters around.

He looked at her with concern. Until recently you were better than all of them.

And I will be again, she insisted. I just need a little time to What? Adjust? Not possible. Go on? Maybe. Thats what she was aiming for, one day at a time.

Wouldnt it be better to take that time someplace else? he asked, trying one more time. Youve paid your dues, Dinah. You were due for a break before any of this happened. We talked about it, remember? I thought you were planning to go home, see your folks. Why not do it now? People rotate in and out of here all the time because nobody can live like this without getting their heads all screwed up. Youre not Superman. Why should you be any different?