Accessible Journalism

     Ruby laid in bed, watching the path to their front door from her bedroom window. She waited. And waited. Gradually, the hazy morning light grew warmer and brighter, and Ruby knew that no one was going to rescue her.

     She had to face this alone.

     -

     Ruby could feel herself shaking with nerves from the moment she entered the Neopian Times office. Perhaps it wasn’t noticeable, or perhaps the Pteri at the front desk was just politely pretending not to notice.

     “Manny is ready to see you!” he said with a warm smile. “Go see the Red Kyrii at the window desk.”

     Ruby entered onto an open floor office brimming with activity. Desks were piled high with papers. Quills were tucked in ink pots, behind ears, and racing across papers to get thoughts down. In the corner at a water cooler, a Grarrl and a Xweetok in very professional looking clothes were laughing about something. A white Weewoo lighted on a stack of papers near them, head cocked as if to listen in on their conversation. For the second time this week, Ruby marveled at how the newsroom looked just like she had imagined.

     The hubbub almost distracted Ruby from her nerves. But then she saw Manny, the Red Kyrii in question, smiling and waving her towards him. On his desk was a blue mug that said I HEART ROO ISLAND, next to a photo of a pretty Striped Kyrii. A plaque said his name, plus his title: Junior Editor.

     He chuckled, drawing Ruby’s gaze away from the trinkets. “I know you didn’t come here just to look at my desk. How are you doing? Have you finished that article yet?”

     “About that.” Ruby looked down at her shuffling hooves. The source of all of her anguish. “I’ve been having some trouble.”

     “Need to brainstorm some ideas?” Manny offered. The kindness raised her hopes somewhat.

     “No. It’s not the ideas. I’m actually having physical trouble. You see, I’ve always relied on my sister to write things down for me. But she’s been out of town…”

     Manny frowned. “She writes everything for you? I was under the impression your work was your own. Should we be co-crediting her? Or…” And here he paused to cringe. “Is she perhaps responsible for more than half?”

     Ruby shook her head emphatically, her mane nearly blinding her. “No, that’s not the case at all! She only writes what I ask her to! I’d do it myself, but with these hooves…” And here, she lifted one to show it to Manny, as if he wouldn’t understand without seeing.

     He scratched his chin. “Yeah, that’s fair, I suppose.”

     “My sister had to leave town due to an emergency. I haven’t had anyone else who could help me with this…”

     And just like that, her misadventures began flowing out of her. Manny didn’t interrupt, although she caught him smiling a few times. Which didn’t make sense, given the story she was telling, but she had to get it all out.

     When she finished, he broke out into a huge grin. “Hey, that’s a pretty funny story. Maybe one of our artists could do a comic based on that!”

     But Ruby didn’t think it was funny. The whole affair had been humiliating. Ruby felt like she couldn’t do anything herself, let alone the one thing she loved to do most. To make things worse, the people she asked for help had treated her like she was ridiculous. Manny didn’t seem any different from them.

     “I don’t want anyone to make a comic out of it,” Ruby fussed. “I want someone to take dictation for me. I came here to ask you if anyone here at the office could help me.”

     Manny frowned. “Everybody’s pretty busy with their own assignments.”

     “Anyone will do!” Ruby insisted. “Really! I’ll come up with the story myself, I just – I need help!”

     “It’s just so unorthodox. Like, I get that you say it’s your work, but… Is it really writing if you aren’t even writing?” Manny asked, miming a pencil in the air.

     Frustrated tears started to prick at Ruby’s eyes. “It IS my work. It probably takes me even longer than a regular writer because I have to wait for other people to help me. I swear I do everything – I reread, and I add changes, and I edit! Just not physically!” She stomped her hoof. “If my work’s not good enough, you don’t have to take me. But I love writing! Working here is my dream! I just want a fair chance at it!”

     “What’s all this commotion?”

     The Ixi who appeared now seemed to shine gloriously in the light - probably because she was Gold! She came up to Manny’s desk with a frown. “Are you giving this girl trouble? I knew promoting you would go to your head…”

     Manny blushed furiously. “Hey, Bennett, come on! I can handle this. You don’t need to babysit me.”

     “Really?” Bennett cocked one golden eyebrow. “Because it sounds to me like you are refusing accommodations to someone who needs them.”

     She turned now to Ruby. “Can you explain again how you usually write?”

     Awestruck by the arrival of what seemed to be her guardian angel, Ruby had to collect her jaw from the floor to get into it. The whole time, Bennett listened so patiently. Most importantly, she never cracked a smile, not even when Ruby tried to get help from a creature that’d been rummaging in the trash.

     “Okay, I understand,” said Bennett, when the story finished. “Manny is correct that historically, we’ve never had the sort of accommodations you’ve described. But we do have accommodations for those who are born without paws or claws to use a pen.”

     Bennett craned her neck over Manny’s desk to grab his quill between her teeth. On a random paper, she scribbled out a sentence with surprising dexterity.

     “I was using that paper,” Manny complained.

     Bennett ignored him, setting the quill back in its place. “Would you like to try?” she asked Ruby.

     Ruby stared at the quill that had just been in Bennett’s mouth. “Sorry, we just met, and…”

     “It’s unhygienic,” Manny cut in.

     They found Ruby a clean quill. She found the act of writing with her mouth extremely awkward; her neck didn’t quite move the way she expected it, and the one letter she managed to write was huge and ugly. She set the quill down before she could write another, burning with embarrassment.

     “If I do this, my article will take forever…”

     Bennett nodded. “Not moving fast enough can be the death of a thought, while you’re writing. Don’t worry; I don’t expect you to write this way right now. I merely want to show you something you can try to learn for the future. Maybe this time next year, you could be writing your assignments without another person’s help - if you want, of course. I know that what works for one person doesn’t always work for another. For now, though, we’ll find someone who can take dictation from you so you can finish up your submission article.”

     Ruby’s wings fluttered with joy. “Oh! Thank you! Thank you so much!”

     “It’s no problem.” Bennett smiled. “We hoofed girls have to stick together, don’t we? We often can’t count on anyone else.”

     Bennett then settled Manny with a very chilly glare. The Kyrii sunk down in his desk chair. “Ok, ok, point taken. I’ll be more thoughtful of different abilities in the future.” Then, looking at Ruby, “I’m sorry.”

     Ruby had to bite back the urge to say it was no problem. “Thanks,” she said instead. “I’m looking forward to working with you both more! And if you can find someone today to take my thoughts down, I think I know what I want to write.”

     -

     Lana came home in one piece, as did her wand - although it had to be taped back into that one piece for a second time. Her Brightvale University friends had appreciated her help, but ultimately were capable of fighting back Voidlings all their own, and were now helping to clear a path through Meridell for others fleeing from the onslaught.

     “I’m just relieved to be home!” Lana paused to take an enormous swig of her borovan. “Anyway - what have you been up to while I was gone?”

     “Well,” said Ruby, “I got a job at the Neopian Times.”

     Lana spat borovan all over herself. “WHAT?!”

     “Yeah,” said Ruby.

     “That’s your DREAM!” Lana exclaimed.

     “It is,” Ruby agreed, glowing.

     “I’m so happy for you! How did it happen? Has this been in motion for very long, or was it a sudden thing?”

     After all the harrowing tales of battle, Ruby almost felt her own troubles were too small to mention. Almost being the key word; an inner voice that sounded eerily like Lana herself urged her to be honest.

     And so Ruby told Lana everything. By the end of it, the Zafara seemed ready to pull all of the yellow fur off her own face.

     “You should have told me what was going on, Ruby! I never would’ve gone to Brightvale if I knew this was on the line!”

     “I know you wouldn’t have,” Ruby admitted. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. Your friends needed you.”

     “But you needed me!”

     “I ended up being okay.” Ruby smiled to remember Bennett. “Even though it was an awful experience, I met someone really cool because of it. I think she’s basically my mentor now, which rules, because she’s everything I want to be.”

     “I’m glad to hear it!”

     Ruby averted her gaze from her sister. “And I think I’m going to try that mouth-writing technique she showed me. Maybe I won’t like it, but it might give me some… independence.”

     She hazarded a look at Lana. The Zafara didn’t look disappointed in her, as she feared; she had a paw over her heart as she gazed at Ruby.

     “Ruby, I’m so sorry if I’ve made you too dependent on me. I never even knew that technique was an option.”

     “It’s okay,” Ruby said, and meant it. “We know now. Thanks for always being there for me.” She nudged her head on the Zafara, who ruffled her mane.

     Lana’s eyes were looking misty, and she scrubbed furiously at them. “Oh gosh, I didn’t think to ask - what did you end up writing your article about?”

     Ruby thought about the Yurble who’d been assigned to help her write her article. He’d been an older pet, taking a little longer to reach the desk and sit down. But he’d listened very carefully to everything Ruby said, never interjecting to edit her thoughts. That was important for the job he was doing. When Ruby complimented him at the end of the day, he’d chuckled, and waggled the spectacles at the end of his snout.

     “We all rely on our implements,” he said. “Some merely have quills. You and I have a little extra. But at the end of the day, we all work at the Times because we want our voices to be heard.”

     In the present, Ruby smiled. “I wrote about everything that happened to me. And the importance of accessibility.”

     The End.