Chapter Six
The workers from Great Lakes Packaging arrived with their supervisor that morning. A crew of four. Two of these workers were young black men, something not missed by the Max Packaging downstairs crew, all of whom were white and over forty. The new workers did not wear any uniforms, favoring baggy T-shirts and jeans, showing their underwear almost to their buttocks. One white worker had an elaborate Celtic tattoo that ran from his wrist up to his neck.
They were put to work right away. One brought a radio and country music filled the area. They were strong and fast, finishing one order on a machine in a half-hour, the piles of packaging glued, bound, and laid on the belt to be taken by the hi-lo. They managed to finish three more orders by the first coffee break.
Their supervisor walked and talked with Max. The two men took the elevator upstairs, leaving Joshua alone in his father’s office.
Anna had gone to the break room, so no one else was around. Joshua searched every desk drawer that was unlocked. All he found were old invoices and more paperwork. The computer was password protected.
He opened the closet and found Bankers Boxes from the floor to the ceiling. More framed articles from the Falls River Press, covered in dust. One read, ’Small Business Thrives After Drought’ and ‘Fruit Ridge Recovers After Drought Disaster.’ All of these articles were from 1994, the year of Joshua’s birth. He couldn’t recall being told of any drought.
The stacked cardboard Bankers Boxes had pushed on each other over the years, the weight making the bottom boxes almost collapse. Joshua noticed that each box was marked according to year, beginning with 1996, when the plant opened.
He pulled at the front latch of the top Bankers Box and the drawer slid open. He looked inside, seeing nothing but manila file folders. Everything was dusty but neat and organized. He searched around the boxes, looking for photos or records. Using another Bankers Box as a step, he lifted himself up to look at what was on a shelf.
He discovered some old computer equipment, including a small dot matrix printer and a few cassette tapes. He pulled one of the tapes down, taking it out of the case. He read the words, ‘Liz and Josh–1996.’ He shoved the cassette in his coat pocket, retrieving the other tape. He shut the closet. As he placed the second tape in his other pocket, his back was to the office door.
Anna had been watching for a few moments, the door open a crack. She stepped away, planning to keep what she saw to herself, knowing he would come to her when ready.
Joshua had been surprised to see Ruth return to work that morning.
“I have nothing else to do but get on Gloria’s nerves,” she said. “I need to stay busy.”
Bonnie, Lois, and Marilyn made sympathetic murmurs as they worked, gluing blocks of cardboard to a thick, flat base that would provide compartments for large boxes. These blocks were dipped on one side in a puddle of glue from a work table, then pushed on to the base to dry. The glue was in a bucket on the floor.
Joshua was working with Bonnie, across from him as they put together a base, the completed parts stacked on another table to dry.
“I guess Max was impressed with those guys from Great Lakes,” Bonnie said.
“It doesn’t bother me,” Ruth replied. “As long as they don’t get sent up here.”
“You could see that kid’s underwear. It took all of the self-control I had not to pull his pants up for him, like when my boys were little.”
Lois, who wore her thick black hair in a single braid coiled into a bun, said, “Ruth, we started a prayer chain last night for Leo. We didn’t want to bring it up here, but we’re all so worried—“
“We can talk about it later, Lo,” Ruth said. “I know you all are doing what you can. I appreciate it.”
“Have you spoken with Colbie?” Bonnie asked.
Ruth shrugged, her eyes on her work. “She’s preoccupied with the baby. Besides, there’s nothing she can do.”
“She needs a kick in the ass.”
“Colbie has always been that way. She’s selfish because she thinks everything is her fault. When her mother went to prison and her dad remarried, she blamed herself for it all. She thought her dad didn’t want her around for some reason...”
“More like his new wife.”
“Some people have a mother-in-law from Hell. I have a daughter-in-law from Hell. But she’s in California and she can stay there.”
“But you never see your son.”
“He made that choice. You know that old saying? ‘A son is a son until he takes a wife, but a daughter is a daughter for the rest of her life.’”
“That’s the truth,” Lois said. “I didn’t have any sisters, just lazy, married brothers.”
“I have a gay brother,” Marilyn said. “He helped with Mother sometimes. Then he met a younger man. I don’t see him as much anymore.”
One of the Great Lakes workers whizzed by on a hi-lo.
“He could hit one of us,” Bonnie said. “He needs to slow down.”
“Idiots,” Lois said. “One of them is going to get injured.”
Ruth sneered and Joshua, who was standing next to her, thought he heard hissing.
“I think you’re the only person my age who works here.”
Joshua turned around. Standing behind him was one of the Great Lakes Packaging guys; wearing beat-up overalls over a T-shirt. Old work boots. His ginger hair was shaggy, hazel-green eyes and freckles over fair skin.
“I’m eighteen,” Joshua said.
“I’m nineteen.” The young man sat down next to him. “My name is Nick.”
“Hi, Nick. I’m Josh.”
The break room was quiet, the others eating their lunch out of the building.
Nick opened up a brown paper bag, taking out a wrapped sandwich. “This place is nice. There’s more than one men’s room and it’s clean.”
“The building’s only fifteen years old.”
A flash of memory. The ribbon being cut, standing next to his mother. He sees her face. Mom.
Nick rose from his chair. Joshua noticed the tattoo on Nick’s forearm, above the wrist. A Gothic-style crucifix, a series of numbers underneath.
Nick dug some change out of his pocket. He slipped the coins into the pop machine.
“Nice tattoo,” Joshua said.
“Thanks. I was saved two years ago. Those numbers are the date. I go to the Assembly of God church in Falls River. I’m thinking about becoming a missionary.”
“Oh. That’s cool.”
Nick sat down with his can of Coke. “I gotta stop drinking this stuff. I have enough cavities.”
“What do you think of the merger?” Joshua asked.
“From my standpoint, it’s a good idea. But I have my own car. Two of the other guys don’t have a ride to get them here from Falls River. They won’t last long.”
“You all got a lot done this morning.”
“At Great Lakes, we can finish at least six orders before lunch. I mean, it depends on how big the order, but our supervisor is a real...boss.”
“Is he going to bring more people?” Joshua asked.
“Probably. But it’s tense. Those old ladies don’t like us here.”
“The merger wasn’t their decision.”
“If the place is so busy, why a merger?”
“My dad says we need to compete. More packaging companies are opening in Falls River. Who will want to deal with us way out here?”
“Who’s your dad?”
“He owns this place.”
“Oh. So Max Packaging will be yours someday?”
“Not for a long time yet. What job are you doing after lunch?”
“The baler.”
“Tell that guy on the hi-lo to slow down.”
“Oh, that’s Cole. Yeah, I’ll tell him.”
The crew dispersed after lunch. Joshua was headed back upstairs, Nick to the baler/compactor. Joshua passed the hi-lo Cole had been operating upstairs. He noticed the object hanging from the steering wheel.
A toy sword, something a kid would use to play pirates, was wrapped by a thin rope, knotted to the steering wheel. He looked closer, and saw a cigarette butt tucked into the sword and rope.
Joshua couldn’t understand why this toy was tied to a piece of equipment. Joshua considered untying the rope, but the knots were small and tight.
He was still staring at it when Cole, long hair in a ponytail with a bushy beard, jumped on the seat. Joshua took in the elaborate Celtic tattoo ‘sleeve.’ Cole pointed to the toy sword and smiled, shaking his head. “What the Hell is this?”
He smiled, his teeth decayed and spaced wide apart. Joshua returned the smile. “Someone’s idea of a joke.”
Joshua watched Cole drive away, still feeling uneasy. He didn’t see anything cute about the toy sword, the cigarette butt at the handle. All of the Great Lakes workers went outside to smoke except Nick. Max didn’t approve of smoking, but half of the plant employees were smokers, allowed to get their nicotine fix outside during breaks.
Joshua took the short walk to the elevator. By the time he returned to work, he had convinced himself the sword and rope was strange but harmless.
Nick, using a box cutter, separated the long pieces of thick cardboard, throwing the discarded pieces in the baler. When the machine was full, Nick would press a red button, making the compactor crush the cardboard down, creating a thick bundle. The bundles were bound and dumped on a pallet, put aside for recycling.
Nick took a few steps backward with each piece of cardboard he threw into the baler. The uncut pieces were on the floor to his right in a pile. Driving the hi-lo, Cole had returned from the storage area, picking up a pallet full of parts at one of the machines. Cole turned the corner, easing the flat blades of the hi-lo to the floor, placing the pallet in storage. He backed up, the machine making a beeping noise. He looked around, then behind him, making a U-turn.
Cole was returning for another load. Nick took a few steps back again, tossing a long piece into the baler, as if shooting a basketball into the hoop. When he stepped forward, his foot landed on a long sheet of cardboard, which slipped forward, causing Nick to lose his balance.
Cole’s next load was close by, so he raised the hi-lo’s blades mid-way. He felt the knotted rope brush against his hand on the wheel. He glanced down, noticing the rope was now wrapped around his wrist. He tried to pull his hand away, just as Nick landed on his back. When Cole looked up, Nick’s wide eyes were inches from the hi-lo blades.
The Witch Box Page 6