All day Friday, Adam kept waiting for Jennifer to apologize. But every time he tried to catch her eye to let her know that it was OK for her to approach him, so he could forgive her, she immediately looked away, like he was diseased goods. That was the problem with Jennifer — she was such an editor type, she wanted to hold all the little Phoebes’ hands and do it all for them. Didn’t she understand, the best reporters had to be tough as nails and street savvy? Adam’s philosophy when it came to cub reporters was sink or swim — throw them in the pool, give stories to the ones who bobbed up, and fire the ones who drowned.

Adam checked his To Do list and realized that after school he had eighteen free minutes between Math Olympiads and soccer practice. He really was on top of things these days and headed up to 306. Jennifer was going to feel terrible about the way she’d treated him. He was going to do reporting on her basketball hoop story. Probably get the whole story reported for her with one single phone call. He couldn’t wait to see her face when she realized he was selflessly doing her story without even having to be asked.

Jennifer was going to feel miserable about misjudging him.

Adam dialed the number in the phone book and a crisp voice said, “Tremble County Zoning Board.”

Adam explained he had a question about the new accessory structure policy.

“That’s Code Enforcement,” the crisp voice said. “I’ll transfer you.” There was quiet, then a dial tone. He’d been cut off. Well, so maybe it would take him two phone calls.

Adam tried again and was cut off — three more times. On the next try, he asked for the direct dial number for Code Enforcement. The crisp voice said, “I’d be glad to connect you immediately.”

“Please. NO!” said Adam. “Anything but that. I’ll dial it myself.”

He did and a woman’s voice answered, “Code Enforcement.”

“Yes,” said Adam. “There was an article in the Citizen-Gazette-Herald-Advertiser —”

“Honey,” said the woman, “I am so busy, I just don’t have the time to do all the reading I should, and I feel terrible about it.”

“Hey, that’s OK,” said Adam.

“No,” said the woman. “Reading is so important. I need to do better.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Adam. “See, the reason I’m calling —”

“Well, you are so sweet,” said the woman. “You have just made my day. Thank you for your moral support, honey.” And the line went dead.

Adam froze. Had that really just happened? He called back.

“Code Enforcement.”

“Yes,” said Adam. “I’m the guy who just called, about the article in the Citizen-Gazette-Herald-Advertiser —”

“Honey, we get so many calls, it’s hard to keep track.”

“Remember, we were just talking about the importance of reading?”

“It’s possible, honey,” said the woman. “It’s been so nice —”

“Wait!” yelled Adam, and he quickly explained that the story he’d read was about zoning officers enforcing local law 200-52.7A.

“Now, that does sound like one of ours,” said the woman.

Adam said he had a question about what kind of structures would be affected. He purposely didn’t say basketball hoops. He wanted to keep it vague. Maybe Jennifer was wrong, and the last thing he wanted to do was plant the idea in these guys’ heads that they should be tearing down his basketball hoop.

“Well, now, honey,” said the woman. “What you’re asking for is an interpretation of the law. Am I right?”

Adam said he guessed so.

“I am so sorry, but I am not authorized to do interpretations,” she said. “You’ll have to speak to the Herbs, honey.”

The herbs? Adam thought. Speak to the herbs? He’d heard of talking to the animals, but speaking to the herbs? It did not matter. He was going to keep this woman on the phone until he got an answer. That’s how street-savvy reporters work. He’d show Jennifer.

“Which herbs do I speak to?” asked Adam.

“Green or Black,” said the woman.

“I don’t know,” said Adam. “Green or black herbs? Which is better?”

“You know, I can’t answer that, honey,” said the woman. “They don’t allow me to give out opinions over the phone, but in my opinion the Herbs are pretty much interchangeable.”

“OK,” said Adam. “Then let me talk to a green herb.”

“You mean Herb Green, honey?” said the woman. “He’s not here right now.”

“Then give me the black herb,” said Adam.

“Honey, this is the twenty-first century,” said the woman. “A man’s race should not enter into it. Herb Black is, just for your information, white. It’s Herb Green who is black. No matter. Herb Black and Herb Green are both out. On Tuesdays the Herbs do code enforcement. They’re out checking to make sure that backyard fences aren’t too high, store signs aren’t too wide, additions to homes have all eighteen proper permits . . .”

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” said Adam. “I didn’t mean to make a racial —”

“Honey, don’t you worry,” said the woman. “When it comes to race, none of us is perfect. You just learn from this and go forward.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Adam. “Look, is there a chance there’d be someone who could answer a simple question about what an accessory structure is?”

“Oh no,” said the woman. “No one can speak for the Herbs.”

Adam asked when to call back.

“Hard to say,” said the woman. “The Herbs, they work eight to four, but they don’t keep a fixed schedule. They’re in; they’re out. As the Herbs say, code enforcement is not forty hours behind a desk. They’re constantly rushing out to investigate fresh zoning violations.”

“Could I leave a message?” asked Adam.

“You could,” said the woman, “but the Herbs are terrible about returning calls.”

“Well, when’s good to call back?” asked Adam.

“Best time to get the Herbs is morning,” she said, “before they go out.”

“About eight o’clock?” Adam asked.

“Normally that would be good,” said the woman. “Problem is, it’s my job to answer the phone and I get in at nine.”

“So the only time to call,” said Adam, “is when no one answers the phone?”

“I didn’t say that, honey,” the woman said. “The Herbs will pick up when I’m not here, if you catch them in a good mood.”

Adam was getting the hang of this. He had a hunch you could never catch the Herbs in a good mood, and said so.

“Oh, you’re right about that, honey,” said the woman. “Code enforcement is thankless work. People think the law means everybody except them. I’ll tell you, the Herbs — the stress — this job has aged those Herbs something terrible. Their nerves are shot, their stomachs ruined. It’s made them very bitter Herbs.”

“I am so sorry,” said Adam.

“Just doing my job, honey,” said the woman, and the line went dead.

Adam glanced at his notes. He hadn’t written a single complete sentence. He ripped up the paper and tossed it in the wastebasket. What a stupid story. Jennifer had no clue — sure it was easy to think up assignments that sounded great. But doing them? It was the reporter who got stuck with all the dirty work. The thing about Jennifer — she really was a typical editor.