NOOZOON - New Life

This is where I -- artist, novelist and curmudgeon, William James Johnson -- hang out. Drop in to find out how much mischief an old guy like me can get into.

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Location: London, Ontario, Canada

I walk five miles every day in the beautiful park across the road. I have regular friends who in our discussions are trying to solve the world's problems. So far we haven't found any answers. But the journey keeps going on.

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Freement by William James Johnson Chapter 8

The house was as silent as a tomb when I got up. It was six a.m. and I wanted to give myself plenty of time preparing my appearance, to give a good impression when I applied at the auto plant.
Soaking the wash cloth in steaming hot water, and holding it against my face like I had seen my dad do when he wanted to get a particularly close shave, I felt my life was about to take a new direction. The stubble gathered in a narrow ring around the top of the water in the sink, as I rinsed the razor between each new swath.
Outside the bathroom door, I heard the muffled sound of someone in slippers. I glanced down to check the door was locked and looked back at my clean shaven face.
"Johnny...is that you kid?"
"Yes Aggie. What do you want?"
"Let me in for a minute. I just want to see you."
Unlocking the door, I opened it slightly. There she stood in her faded chenille bathrobe, a net stretched over the curlers in her hair.
"Aggie, I've got lots to do, and not much time to do it."
"Please kid."
"Well okay."
I opened the door further and let her in. In the bright light of the bathroom she squinted, and yawned. She smiled sleepily, and felt my smooth chin.
"Nice...like a baby's bottom."
Wetting my hands, I rubbed them through my hair, and began combing myself.
"I only wanted to wish you luck...and don't get mad for me asking, but I just wondered if there was anything I could do to help."
"I'm not mad Aggie. I appreciate the way you look after me. I really do. There's one thing you could do, if you don't mind."
"Name it kid. You know how I get such a bang outa doin things for you."
"I was going to press my pants. But if you wanted to do it, it would sure help me."
"I'll look after it. I'm making a big breakfast for you. You're gonna be a working man now. You'll need lots of nourishment."
Touching my bare back as she left the room, she slid her hand across it slowly, sending goose pimples up the sides of my chest and arms.
By the time we finished breakfast it was seven thirty, and she caught me looking at the alarm clock on the cupboard.
"Cool it Johnny. Those white collar guys don't start work until nine. You've got loads of time. More coffee?"
Pushing my cup towards her I began daydreaming. It was difficult to believe I had only been living here for six weeks. Looking around the kitchen, I saw her old gas stove, thick with accumulated carbon. Aggie didn't pride herself on her
housekeeping skills, although she was a very good cook. A crumpled dish towel hid the base of the milk bottle, with its white drip tracing down its side. I sipped slowly on the steaming coffee.
"They'll take you. I'm willing to bet on it. By the time you come back tonight, you'll already have done a day's work."
"I sure hope so. I'll feel a lot better once I've paid you back."
"It's not just the money that's bothering you kid. You just don't like to take something for nothing. You'll make me feel better when you pay, cuz I know that's what you want."
"Ten to eight. Is that the right time?"
"Right on. I set it with the radio last night. Stop fidgeting. You don't want to let them see you fidget. Go in there and show them how much you're willing to learn. You're gonna make it kid. I know that for sure."
My thoughts drifted back to our kitchen in Brewster. All the other children had gone to school and dad had left for work. There was just me and mom. She had kept me home to treat a cold. We were having breakfast together, and I was enjoying being alone with her. I loved my mother very much.
"Sure you've had enough to eat?"
For a second Aggie sounded like my mother.
"Yeah...it was great. Thanks again Aggie. God it's eight already. I better get started. Don't want to be late my first day."
The crisp winter air felt good on my Smooth shaven face as I walked briskly to the auto plant. Bus after bus passed me, carrying the factory workers. At the gate. I entered through the guardhouse with the other employees.
"Hey kid...You. Where's your badge?"
"I'm here to apply for a job. Where do I go?"
"Ihat red building over there. Go to the back, and up the stairs. That's the personnel office. They'll look after you."
There were several chairs along the wall of a narrow corridor opposite glass partitioned cubicles. A janitor was busy emptying waste baskets and sweeping the hallway. I sat down under the industrial mural that covered the wall behind the chairs. No one else had arrived looking for work.
At five to nine, the entrance door opened, and an attractive young woman in her early twenties greeted the janitor and smiled at me. Soon the offices began to fill up, and the chairs on both sides of me were taken by guys wanting jobs. Men began lining up in front of the reception desk, and I began to feel I was being squeezed out of my chance to get a job.
"You over there. Yes you. You were here first." It was the lovely young girl who had smiled at me.
"Fill out this card and take it into office number one, Mr. Forest."
Completing the card I took it to the office which was empty. In another cubicle, two men were talking and one nodded when he saw me. Mr. Forest returned to his office and took my card and offered me a chair.
"John Martindale...seventeen. Soon going to be eighteen. No previous experience. You'll have to pass a medical Mr. Martindale."
"Is there something wrong.?"
"Not at all. Just routine. Our doctor checks you for rupture and things like that. Take your card down to the end of the hall and turn left. You'll see a sign that says 'Clinic'. After that, if everything's okay, you come back here and I'll see where I can use you."
Walking down the hall I noticed all the cubicles were full. I hoped I would get a job before they ran out. A stout nurse, wearing glasses greeted me when I entered the clinic. Soon she had me standing in front of one of the factory medics in my shorts.
"Have you had any operations?"
"Just tonsi1s."
"Accidents?"
"Broke my leg once when I fell out of a tree."
"Which leg?"
"This one, the right leg."
He felt around the muscle and had me raise it.
"Ever been ruptured?"
"Not that I know of."
He pressed the hollow on each side of my groin and had me cough. I was given a bottle for a urine specimen. It took the nurse another twenty minutes to complete some forms which I took back to Mr. Forest.
"That didn't take long."
He opened the envelope and studied the contents.
"No problems here. You must understand, since you haven't had any previous experience, your job possibilities are limited. I've got four places I could start you, and maybe in a few months, you could apply for a transfer."
"Does that mean you're hiring me?"
"Sure does. You'll start at $1.10 an hour, and you'll get an extra nickel an hour when you go on the midnight shift."
He had selected me to work in plant one as a stock chaser. Handing me a factory badge, and a safety pamphlet, he told me to return to the receptionist for further instructions.
"Congratulations. I'm glad you made it."
She took the card from me and read the instructions.
"Plant one is across the street, the long building beside the river. Report to the guard at the gate. He'll look after you."
"Thanks again."
Leaving the personnel office I looked back at the receptionist. I could see her lips were wishing me good luck. The guard had me wait outside his guardhouse until I saw an elderly man walking towards me. He was balding, wearing a shop apron,
shiny from use. He looked at my badge and extended his hand.
"K817...I'm Red Corfield. Welcome aboard."
"I'm John Martindale, Mr. Corfield."
"Just call me Red. All the guys do. I suppose everyone calls you Marty."
"That suits me fine."
We entered the bowels of the complex that roared with the grinding, clanking, pounding machines, that shaped the various parts of the automobile. He had to shout over all the noise to make himself heard.
"Helluva racket. But you'll get used to it. By tonight your arse will be drag in' and you'll still hear the pounding in your ears. Then suddenly, without actually realizing it, the pounding stops, and the noise doesn't bother you any more."
He took me to the time keeper to get a card issued and showed me where my card would be located in the rack.
"There's one thing you gotta be careful about. In this business time is money. If you're more than three minutes late, they nail you for fifteen minutes pay. If it's fifteen minutes, they get you for a half hour. The same is true when you punch out at quitting time. You punch out too early, you're gonna lose money. They got you coming and goin."
A shrill whistle pierced the thunderous roar of background noise and Red and I went to a protected area outdoors to have our lunch. It was cold, but refreshing after being inside the hot plant. Soon several other workers joined us. Some had greasy clothes; others looked like displaced white collar workers, all had prison pallor complexions. Most of them ate in silence. Some didn't eat at all.
"How come those guys aren't eating?"
"They munch sandwiches while they're working. The company doesn't like it, but they haven't been able to stop it. This way they get a chance to have a snooze. You might even do it yourself after you're here awhile."
"How long you been here?"
"Seventeen years. Started before the war. I was too old to fight, but I wasn't too old to work. They were crying for guys then."
"That's a long time."
"Not really. If I wasn't here I'd be working someplace else. A guys gotta live. It's not such a bad job. Things are a helluva lot better since we got the union. By the way Marty you'd be smart to join too."
"Do you have too?"
"No. It's not compulsory yet. We're trying' to get it that way. But you gotta take what you can get. Know what I mean."
"You make it sound like I might have a tough time if I don't join."
"Smart kid. That's what happens. Us union guys look after our brothers. You're goin to be okay kid."
The whistle blasted again when the half hour was up. Sleepy forms rose from the concrete surface and wandered back to their machines. Red took me on a tour of the plant. As a stock chaser I would have to know where the major departments were located. It was my job to deliver parts and supplies to the various sections. It meant knowing the parts depot as well. The orders were given to me, and I would pick up the parts on a push cart and deliver them on foot to the appropriate department. It was a very tiring job.
By the end of my shift, I was exhausted. I must have walked miles, pushing tons of metal on my cart. The constant battering of the machines had also worn me down. The whistle ending the shift came as a welcomed pardon from this dismal cavern. Throngs of workers ran to the time clock when the final whistle sounded. I hadn't seen any of them move so quickly on company time. It was as if that sudden burst had given all of us a new lease on life.
Trudging wearily back to Aggie's, I was glad I didn't have to fight for a place on the many busses which lined up in front of the factory gate at quitting time. I stopped at the Cosmo, and read the menu again. Sounded terrific. Not much longer now. Two weeks, and I'd have my first pay check, and I was going to pay Aggie everything I owed her, then I was going to splurge.
As always, Aggie heard me come in. "Well, was I right, or was I right? Didn't I say you'd get in a day's work today? Didn't I say it?"
"You sure did Aggie. I got the ,job."
"This calls for a celebration."
"God no. Just let me hit that bed. I'm whipped."
"I still want to do something nice for you. Why not get some sleep, and when you get up, we'll go to the Cosmo, and I'll treat you to the best food you've ever had."
"Sounds great. Call me in a couple of hours. If I don't wake up, keep shouting. There's such a loud noise in my head I feel like I've gone deaf."
The bed felt wonderful. The pit in the centre pulled the pillow in around my ears and deadened the noise which continued to pound. How the hell could guys spend their lives working in a place like that. I knew for sure this wasn't going to be my fate.
At the bottom of the pit, the noise stopped. I was asleep.

View the original art of William James Johnson. Click here.

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