Cathy ran a newspaper for the 1200 block of Poplar, known as the Poplar Press. The whole block received its news from the paper, and Cathy used it to bond with the neighbors, help those in need, and resolve disputes.
Only one neighbor refused to participate in the process. Her name was Ruth, and Cathy was determined to win her over before the yearly census party. Ruth wanted 100% attendance at the census party for the first time. She just needed to win Ruth over.
After some digging, Cathy discovered that Ruth worked for a charity that ran dog masquerade parties to raise money for shelters. The fall Haunted Howls event was coming up. Cathy thought maybe by promoting the event in the paper, Ruth would warm up, and she would come to the census party. Ruth even took a picture of her dog dressed up like a gangster to include in the issue.
She couldn’t lead with that story, though. Not only was it not big enough news to print the on-demand paper, but she knew Ruth would see through the pandering if it ran as the lead story. It needed to hide behind a real headline, and time was running out. The party was two days away.
Nothing was happening on the block. Cathy decided to do a few laps on Sunday afternoon. The leaves were starting to fall, and Cathy waved to some neighbors, despairing that no news was catching up to her. The problem with covering only one block in the city was that sometimes, the news was slow.
As she walked, she saw the Michaels leaving their car. Jan was opening the door for her 14-year-old son Mitch, who was in a full leg cast.
“Oh no, what happened?” Cathy asked Jan as she stopped at her driveway.
“Oh, Mitch was at a friend’s house and decided to jump from a table onto a trampoline without thinking about it. He flew right off the other side and landed hard on the ground. He shattered his tibia.”
“I’m so sorry,” Cathy said. “It didn’t happen on the block, did it?”
“No, it was across town,” Jan said, disappointing Cathy. She felt bad for Mitch, but a broken leg was not front-page news.
“Good luck with your recovery, Mitch,” Cathy said to the boy struggling to stand up with his crutches.
“Thanks, Cathy,” Mitch said. “I hate to do this, but I may need you to look for someone to shovel this year. It’s supposed to be a 3–6-month healing process, and it could start snowing at any time.”
“You’re right, Mitch. I need to get on this,” Cathy said, trying not to smile. This was the story. Mitch was the designated snow shoveler for the whole block. They all paid him to keep the sidewalks clean—finally, front page news: Mitch Breaks Leg: Snow Shoveler Needed.