Susan's Credentials

Friday, April 13, 2018

Happy


Ray “Happy” Leonard was a fixture at the Daily Bugle office. No one could remember a time when he hadn’t been there, pencil propped in the corner of his smiling mouth. In fact, it had been 34 years, seven months and two days since the Happy had first walked in, confidently stating that they needed to hire him as a proof reader.

The editor had been, unknown to Happy, in dire need of a proof reader. The prior proofer, Harriet, had just quit over a thorny grammar dispute with a staff writer about a dangling modifier. Her chair was still warm when Happy sat down and slid it up to his new desk.

Happy was just 18 when he started working at the Bugle, and was predictably optimistic about his life, and his potential impact on grammar. In reality, what he faced was an uphill battle with grizzled reporters who regularly employed colloquialisms and held little respect for the rigors of the formal English language. Yet, Happy smiled and went about his work, his red pencil flashing across the pages set before him.

As Happy advanced in years, he grew accustomed to the relaxed grammatical attitude of the paper. His hair gradually abandoned him and the rhythm of his days lulled him. Where had his dreams of being a writer gone? So much time had passed, and the reporters he proofed for in his youth were long gone. He could remember proofing some of their obituaries.

Happy pushed back his chair and stood up. He twisted from left to right and heard his back snap and pop with the unaccustomed movement. He wrapped his scarf around his neck, shoved his arms into his warm coat, set his hat upon his head and nodded. He would spend no more than 34 years, seven months and two days at the Daily Bugle. They may have had his youth, but they didn’t have his soul. 
He had a novel to write. A novel about a fictional newspaper and the intrepid proofreader who kept the place running.

He strode out the door, holding it, politely, for a young woman carrying a red pencil and a look of determination. Happy’s smile grew as the door closed on the wood paneled office steeped in the click of computer keys and interviews in progress, and joined the flow of humanity filled with possibility on this cold, bright January day.