I was confident.
On my daily walk to workthis morning, I was sure of every step I was
taking. I was going to better my life as well as my family's. For the
first time in my life, I couldn't wait to get to work.
The man in the hooded sweatshirt on the other side of the street was
stillthere, sucking on his cigarette. I couldn't see his eyes, but I
knew he was watching my every step, and almost laughing as if I had
been defeated. But I was on the high of my career and was confused at
the look on his face. Oh well, maybe he was about to see a new me.
After today I may become a whole new person.
I soon arrived at the entrance of the large factory and inhaled the
fumes before I even walked through the door. I walked through the
crowded lobby and into the lock room.
I found my locker and twisted the dial a few times before the door
basically fell into my hands. The rusty surface was old and needed to
be repaired, as did every other locker in the room. I hung my coat and
hat on the hooks and grabbed my gloves and goggles and headed for the
foundry.
The sudden tile floors in the lock room changed tothe hard, cracked
concrete, reminding me of the hellish place I worked in day after day.
Suddenly my brimming confidence was nearly gone. The environment
quickly swayed the mood. I punched my number into a nearby machine on
the wall and pulled the lever as it spat out a receipt informing me
that I was now on theclock. I quickly moved towards my station.
John was already there, clocked in and hard at work. John, my best
friend and partner at my work station, was a middle-aged,
black-haired, beast of a man. He also had two kids and a wife at home,
and could support them about as well as I could support my family. We
were both making very minimal, actually below minimal, pay per hour.
But at least it was a job, something a lot of peoplecouldn't say they
had.
As I slouched closer, I sawthat he was shining as much confidence as I hadbeen.
"Guess what," he whispered at me when I was close enough to hearover
the thundering noise. His toothy smile was widespread across his face.
"What?"
"I'm going to ask for a raise today. I've been here over a year. I
can't wait for a bigger paycheck."
"Hey, I was going to ask today too!"
"Nuh-uh!?"
"Yeah-huh!"
The smiles on each of ourfaces grew. We were teammates and we even
thought alike - more like brothers. We concluded that we were going to
goand talk to the corporate manager over our lunch break.
Lunch couldn't come soon enough. The warning bell rang and we went
over to the machine to type in our numbers and pull the lever. We
added the receipts to the growing number of papers in our pockets and
quickly wentback into the locker room. We quickly washedour hands and
faces to look somewhat presentable to our boss. Hurriedly, we walked
outof the lock room and back into the hallways and eventually the
lobby.
Every person who worked here knew where the manager's office was and
shuddered at the mention of it. It was the only staircase in the
building that was carpeted. Our confidence suddenly left us as I
gulped and let John lead us up the stairs. The intimidating narrow
hallway and stairway seemed to go on forever.
Once at the top of the staircase, we were completely amazed at what
was present before us. Wood paneled flooring covered the entire area
and every item, every rug, every picture frame, every lightfixture and
lamp, was somehow trimmed in gold. Gold plates and platters were
aligned in bookshelves along the walls. Two solid doors with golden
doorknobs and elegant design were at the far side of the room, guarded
by a brute of a man in a grey suit that looked dull and boring
compared to the rest of the room. But his intimidation spread as we
both noticed at the same time the tip of a silencer on the muzzle of a
Colt .44 magnum that showed its outline in the holster inside the suit
jacket.
We both took another moment and awed at oursurroundings before taking
a step too close to the door. The guard stepped in front of us.
"Does the manager have a minute?" I asked.
"Yes."
We started to walk past the guard when he put his hand over both the
doorknobs. "One at a time!" he hissed.
"You can go first," I said to John after we had both stared at each
otherfor a few seconds. I took a step back and the guard opened the
door for John, who had suddenly lost all color in his face. They
walked in and the guard slowly moved the doors to their original
position, almost. He did not close them all the way and left a crack,
one that I decided I was going to watch the interview through and
maybe take some mental notes on what to do, since I couldn't bring
myself to sit on the gold trimmed, red clothed chairs along the wall.
The office was much like the waiting room outside, but even more
significant and magnificent in many ways. The floor was covered with
one large polar bear skin and manyother animal trophies were attached
all over the walls. Nearly everything was gold and deep cherry wood.
And made the room I was in look like a little kid's room. John was
sitting on a chair inside similar to the one I wouldn't sit in while
in the waiting room.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT!" the manager asked. Everything he seemed to do he
felt as if he had to do it in a fast matter and yelled at everyone no
matter the circumstances."MAKE THIS QUICK SO YOU CAN GET YOUR GRUBBY
SLIME OUT OF MY GOLD CHAIR!"
A knot formed in my stomach. This was going to be harder than
originally intended.
"Well sir, you see I've been working here for over a year now, and I
was wondering if I could get a small raise and at least get bumped up
to the federal minimum wage standard." He was intimidated and showed
it in almost every aspect.
"YOU WANT MY MONEY?" the boss questioned, insulted.
"A very small raise would suffice. I'm having a hardtime supporting-"
"We'll take care of your money...issue," the boss acknowledged,
suddenly calm. Tension heightenedin the air as the brief silence was
interrupted by a red explosion of syrupy liquid from the side of
John's head. A brief moment later he fellover in the chair and his
head, thudded against the ground. A puddle of red started collecting
on the pure white of the polar bear fur, tainting its innocence. I
felt sick, but continued to look through the crack and adjusted my
view to see the silenced Colt still in the air, smoke coming from the
muzzle. "THEY ARE ALL SCUM. NOBODY WILL MISS HIM. IT'S TOO BAD ABOUT
THE FUR THOUGH, I REALLY LIKED THAT ONE."
"I can order another one," the guard replied as the manager took out a
cigar and started chewing on the end.
"YES, DO THAT RIGHT AWAY."
"Should I bring the other guy in after I clean this up?"
"THERE WERE TWO OF THEM?"
"Yeah, the other one is waiting outside the door."
"SHIT!"
And that's when I bolted back for the stairs. Soon after I took off
the door crashed open behind me.I didn't even turn aroundas I heard
three bullets whiz past my head. I didn't stop when I got to the
bottom of the stairs. Ididn't even go to my locker. For awhile it
sounded as if the thudding was right behind me, but I figured after
awhile that it was the pounding of my heart and the thudding inside my
ears. Even so, I didn't stop running.
Once I was past the jewelry store, I stopped to catch my breath and
check to see if they were still in pursuit. They weren't, and I was
thankful. The coolness of the winter day finally gotto me and I
shivered from the sudden cold that engulfed me. Something across the
street caught my eye. I turned only to find the man with the
sweatshirt, still sucking on a cigarette. But this time he had a
different smile upon his face, one that gave an "I told you so"
attitude. I stared at him for a few moments, and then moved on, my
head racing with thoughts. It bugged me immensely that I could not see
his eyes.
I continued walking home at a hurried rate and recalled everything
that had just happened. I had just sent my best andonly friend to his
death and almost killed myself in the process. It could have been me
taking thatbullet and crumpling intothe jaw of the polar bear.I
instantly was sick at the thought and it took all my strength to keep
fromthrowing up all the way home, the scene replaying in my head time
after time.
Soon I was home and I ran to Jennifer. Her head snapped up, surprised
as I threw the door open. I started rambling twenty words a second as
soon as I saw her, but she shushed me and got me aglass of water and a
towel and began to wipethe sweat and dirt off of my face. I attempted
to calm down and started toplay back the day's happenings to her. As
soon as I had finished, it was like staring at a ghost. She was whiter
than Chicago snowflakes.
"And then I ran home."
"Paul, oh my god, what are we going to do now?"
"I don't know, but I can't go back or they will kill me too! And we
can't stayhere more than a day or two."
Jennifer grabbed the newspaper after a few moments of silence to try
to take her mind off of the day's occurrences. After a few moments
reading, she threw the paper down and grabbed her head as she ran off
towards her room. I sat at the table and scanned the paper asI sipped
my glass of water. Eventually she came back and leaned against the
entryway into the kitchen, arms crossed. Something was different about
her. At first I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but, that was
the answer,her finger.
"Hey Jen, where's your wedding band and engagement ring?"
The color that had just started coming back to her face suddenly left
again. "Some guy came in and threatened the twins and me with a knife
today," she choked out. "He told me to give them to me or he would cut
off the kids fingers then mine and take the rings with it."
I paused, sickened by the thought. "Did you see what he looked like?"
"He had a mask."
"Did you report it?"
"Why? The police won't come to this part of Chicago or do anything
about it anyways. You know that better than I do."
I silenced my next thought, stunned. That was where the conversation
ended. She looked away and I grabbed the paper and looked at the
comics and crossword.
The night went almost exactly the same as the night before. The kids
cried and screamed, the soup was bland, and the puddle on the floor
grewever bigger. I went to bed tonight and Jennifer was already lying
there, asleep. Her pillow was slightly wet from crying herself to
sleep. I slowly and carefully crawled in, trying not to wake her.
I simply lay in bed, staring at the discoloration starting on the
bedroom ceiling for hours upon hours. My best friend had been murdered
and I had narrowly avoided death. My family was in danger. We had
little food, little supplies, and no money. Ipromised myself right
then and there that this would all change. We could not continue to
livelike this. I only had one card left to play, and it was a long
shot, but it was the only choice I hadleft. I had to protect at least
my family if not myself at all costs.
Tomorrow, I told myself, was time to pay "Uncle Jack" a visit.
--
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