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Harry moved along the few blocks from his house to the factory, punched his time card, changed his clothes and went to his bench. He was the worst lathe operator of the more than 1,000 men working in the factory. He started shortly before the war and remained there all during the war. Soon after the war started the shop steward was drafted and Harry took his place and devoted more time to the activities of the union than he did his job. From the beginning he hounded and haunted the bosses and soon he was part of the outer clique of the union. During the war the company was powerless to fire him and when they tried after the war the union threatened to call a strike so Harry still stood in front of the same lathe.
Harry worked for 30 minutes or so each morning then turned off his lathe and made the rounds of the factory reminding those who were behind in their dues that they had to pay by a certain date; asking others why they hadnt been to the last union meeting; or simply telling others not to work so fast, it aint gonna get ya nothin. Youre only makin money for the company and they got enough. And though he had been doing this for years and the foremen had learned to ignore him, many of the executives, especially cost estimators, production engineers, and the General Manager of the plant who was also a Vice-President of the Company, were still incensed whenever they saw him walking around the factory in defiance of all the rules and regulations. Usually they stormed off in another direction, but occasionally they would demand to know what he was doing and he would tell them he was doin his job, and if they persisted in questioning him he would tell them to go fuckthemselves, and if they did their job as good as he did his everybody would be better off and what the fuck do they know about work, all they do is sit on their fat asses all day breakin balls . . . and he would be sure to walk away smiling his sneering smile, looking at everyone, letting them know by his attitude that he wasnt afraid of any bigass boss, but they damn sure were afraid of him, convinced that what he had said was true and that he was right in doing and saying what he had.
His morning round usually took an hour and a half to 2 hours. Then he would go back to his bench and work until lunch time. Harry never went home for lunch, but went across the street to the bar and ate with the boys. He always started with a couple a quick shots and a beer, then a few beers with a sandwich and a few more after. He talked with some of the men, listening to their jokes, their stories of dames fucked, following each story with one of his own about how he bagged some dame and threw a fuck intoer and how she thought he was so great and wanted to seeim again and the others would listen, tolerating him, relieved when he would finally leave their group to go to another; and Harry would continue making the rounds of the bar, listening briefly then telling his stories or a joke about a queer who had his ears pulled off; occasionally sticking a finger in someones stomach and farting; or asking someone when they were going to buy him a drink, laughing, slapping the guy on the shoulder, and leaving when he said right after you do; or if they were new on the job he would put his empty glass on the bar and wait for the bartender to fill it up and take the money from their change on the bar.
During the middle of the afternoon Harry reached the part of a job that required resetting the lathe and doing a small amount of figuring to set the job up properly so he decided to take a little walk. If he got too far behind in the work the foreman would have to set the job up. He slowly roamed around the factory asking some of the men how it was going, but mostly saying nothing and just smiling his smile, looking and roaming. He was walking around the 6th floor when he suddenly stopped and frowned, thought hard for a few minutes, took the small union booklet from his pocket describing the duties of different classifications, checked it then went over to one of the benches, turned off the lathe and asked the man working there what inthehell he thought he was doin. The man just stood there, trying to understand what had happened and trying to understand what Harry was talking about. Harry stood in front of him waving the booklet in the air, yelling over the noise of the factory. A few of the men near by turned to look and the foreman came running over, yelling at the operator, still standing in front of Harry trying to understand what was going on, and yelled, whys that goddamn machine off? Harry turned to the foreman and asked him if he told him to do this job. Whointhehell do you think toldim to do it. Im the foreman aint I. Well what the fucks the idea of havinim cut heavy stainless, eh? What the fucks the idea? Whattayamean whats the idea? This guys a A man. Hes been cuttin stainless for years. Why shouldnt he cut it. Cause hes a new man thats why. He only been here a couple a months. He doesnt even have a full union book yet. Aint that right, eh? Aint it? yellin in the operators face, waving the booklet. Yeah, but Ive been in the business 20 years. I can cut anything. Harry stepped closer to him, turning his back to the foreman and yelling louder. I dont give a fuck what ya can cut, ya hear me? The union says ya gotta have a full book or been here 6 months before ya can cut heavy stainless, and ya betta do like I tellya or youll find yaself blackballed, yelling even louder, his face swollen —the operator staring, not understanding, wanting only to do his work and be left alone—ya hear me? The foreman finally forced himself into the line of Harrys vision and yelled at him ta shut up. Fa krists sake, what thefuck ya yellin about? Im yellin cause I wanna yell. And youd betta get this guy off the job or youll find your ass inna sling too. Fa krists sake Harry, this jobs gotta be done and hes the only guy whos not workin a job that can do it. I dont give a fuck if ya havta wait ten fuckin years ta get it done, and I dont giveashit how much it costs the boss. Comeon Harry be reasonable, you—I can cut stainless or any other damn thing you got around here. Look buddy, youd better shut yafuckinmouth or youll be out on your ass. The operators face turned red and he started to reach for a wrench and the foreman quickly stepped in front of him, grabbed him by the shoulders and told him to go take a break, I/ll getya when we settle this. He left and the foreman took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second before turning back to Harry. Look Harry, theres no sense in making a issue of this. You know I never break any union rules, but this jobs gotta be done and he can do it so whats the harm? Dont try and brownnose me Mike. He aint cuttin no stainless. OK, OK, let me call upstairs and see what we can do. He walked back to his desk to call and Harry leaned against the idle lathe. The foreman hung up the phone and came back. Wilsonll be right down and maybe we can get this straightened out. I dont give a fuck whos comin down.
In a few minutes Wilson, a production manager, came rushing across the floor. He smiled, put his arms around Mikes and Harrys shoulders. What seems to be the problem boys, smiling at Harry and giving Mikes shoulder a reassuring and knowing squeeze. Harry scowled, turned slightly so that Wilsons hand fell from his shoulder and barely opened his mouth when he spoke. The man at this machine aint cuttin no stainless. I tried to tellina Mr. Wilson that the job had ta be done—thats OK Mike, patting his shoulder and smiling even broader at both of them, Im sure we can straighten this thing out. Harrys a reasonable man. Nothin ta straighten out. He aint cuttin stainless. Mike started to throw his arms up in disgust, but Wilson put an arm around him and held his arms for a second, smiled then patted him again on the back. Why dont we go into the lounge and have a smoke and talk this over? How about it boys? Mike said OK and started walking toward the smoking room. Harry grunted and stood still as Wilson motioned him on, waiting until Wilson started walking behind Mike before he too followed, a foot or so behind Wilson. When they got to the smoking room Wilson took out a pack of cigarettes and offered them. Mike took one and stuck it in his mouth. Harry said nothing, but took one out of his own pack, ignored Wilsons lighter, lighting his own cigarette. Wilson asked them if they would like a coke and they both declined. The operator, who had been sitting in the corner, came over to Mike and asked him if he could go back to work. Harry started to yell something, but Mike told the man to go out to his bench, but not to turn his machine on. Just wait there. We/ll be out in a minute. The man left and Wilson turned immediately to Harry, smiling, trying to appear relaxed
and trying to hide his hatred for him.
Wilson looked at Harry and decided that it wouldnt do to try the arm around the shoulder routine again. Now look Harry, I understand and respect your position. I have known and have had the pleasure of working with you for quite a few years now and I know, just as Mike here knows, and everyone in the plant knows, that youre a good and honest worker, and that you always have the interest of the organization and the men at heart. Isnt that right Mike? Mike nodded automatically. Like I say Harry, we all know you are a good man and that no one else could have done the job you have in keeping the union affairs of this plant functioning as they have been and we all respect and admire you for this. And we all respect and admire your intelligence and ability. And believe me when I say this, because I say this not as an executive of the organization, but as a man who works with the other men here, I say this as a fellow worker: I would be the last person in the world to ask anyone to make even the slightest breach in the union rules and regulations. To me a contract is a sacred instrument and I will stand by it come hell or high water . . . but, and I say this as a worker and an executive . . . look, its like this: its just like in the union itself. You have your constitution and bylaws. Right? I am certain you are familiar with them. And I am also certain that you follow them to the letter, but there are times when you might have to make a slight exception. Now wait a minute—Harry leaning forward and starting to speak-just hear me out. Now look, suppose the rules say a meeting should start at 8 oclock, but suddenly theres a big snow storm and it takes the men 30 minutes or an hour longer to get to the meeting. Now, you either will have to wait and start the meeting late or you will have to start it on time without the proper number of members present. Wilson smiled, relaxed and took a drag of his cigarette, satisfied with his cleverness, thinking that Harrys position was untenable. Harry took a drag of his cigarette, blew the smoke in Wilsons direction, dropped the butt on the floor and squashed it under his shoe. What we do at the union meet-ins is none of your business unless we want ta tellya about it. O, I know that Harry, I certainly didnt mean to imply otherwise. All I am trying to say is that this organization, like your union, is like any other organization in that it is a team and everyone connected with the organization from the President to the elevator operators are a member of that team and we all have to pull together. Everyones job is equally important. The Presidents job is no more important than yours in that if you dont cooperate, just as he must cooperate, we can not get the job done. That is what I am trying to say. We all have to get behind the wheel, just like in the union. Now, we have a job that must be done and it must be done now. This new man is the only man available to do it at this time. That is the only reason he is doing it. We certainly had no intention of being instrumental in asking anyone to do anything that might even be considered a breach of union rules, but the job has to be done—look, this guys a new man and aint cuttin no stainless so just stop the shit. If ya put him back on the job I/ll call the whole goddamn plant out, Harrys face becoming redder, his eyes glaring, ya get that? I/ll stand by that fuckin bench all day if I have ta and if ya try to putim back on that job I swear ta krist the whole fuckin plantll be out on the street in two fuckin seconds and you and no ballbreakin fuck in the jointll stop me. Ya getit? If ya want a strike I/ll giveya one. He walked out of the room, slamned the door and walked back to the bench. He said nothing to the man who was leaning impatiently against the bench, but simply stood at the other end.
Mike and Wilson looked at the door for a moment then Mike asked Wilson if he wanted him to put the man back anyway. No Mike, you had better not. I do not want any trouble. You just go back to your desk. I/ll see Mr. Harrington.
Wilson was disconcerted about having to see Mr. Harrington, but he didnt know what else to do. He certainly did not want the responsibility of precipitating a strike. Mr. Harrington waved him toward a chair and asked Wilson what was on his mind. Wilson sat down and told him the story. As soon as he heard Harrys name Mr. Harrington frowned, then banged his desk with his fist when Wilson started relating the details. He listened becoming more and more infuriated and insulted not only because Harry had the audacity to defy him, one of the Vice-Presidents, and the Corporation, but also because he knew he would have to compromise and not break Harry as he would like to, but would have to avoid any trouble; that particular job had to be done according to schedule. He could not afford a delay. But there would be a strike soon and then he would get rid of Harry. He had hated Harry for years and had never been able to get rid of him, but he was hopeful he could use the strike to get rid of him. As head of the Corporations negotiating committee he knew he could persuade the other members to continue to reject the unions demands even if those demands became reasonable. He knew the Corporation could let the men stay on strike for the remainder of the year with only a slight loss in net earnings. He assumed that when the strike was 6 months old the union would gladly settle the strike if he gave in to most of their demands on the condition that he could discharge Harry. It was worth a try. He had nothing to lose.
By the time Wilson had finished telling him what had happened he had decided what to do. He stared directly into Wilsons eyes. Well, you certainly made a mess of it didnt you? The corners of Wilsons mouth sagged a little more. He said nothing. It seems as if I have to do everything around here or the entire organization starts to crumble. I did the —never mind that now. The important thing is to get the job done. Now . . . we simply have to get someone else to do that job. How many men do you have working on the Kearny job? 6. Fine. Take one of the men off that job and have him change with the man working on the Collins job. The Kearny job is all brass if I remember correctly. Yes, it is. But it will take an hour or so to go over the job with the man and I was trying to save all the time I could. Save time! You have already wasted over an hour trying to save time. Now get back and do as I told you.
Wilson got up immediately and left the office. He went directly to the foreman of the Kearny job, and explained the situation. The foreman took one of his men off the job and the man went with Wilson to the 6th floor. Wilson explained to Mike and Harry what was going to be done then told the new man who to report to upstairs. When Harry saw him leave, and Mike and the man who had come down with Wilson go over to the lathe with the stainless steel stock, he left.
When he got back to his own bench his foreman was just finishing setting up the job for Harry. Think you can finish this job by tomorrow morning Harry? Its a rush. Yeah, sure. I wouldve finished it today, but that wise punk Wilson tried to pull a fast one and I had to straightenim out. He thought he could push me around, but I fixed hisass. Harry turned slightly toward his bench and the foreman left. He was a few feet away when Harry noticed he had gone and he sneered and muttered, chickenshit. Afraid the boss might see him with me. Harry jabbed at the button that turned his lathe on and started working. Fuckim.
Harry worked as slowly as possible, moving the cutting tool almost imperceptibly, and when the time came to go home he still had another hours or so work before the job would be finished.
Harry was in high spirits when he got home. As he washed his hands and splashed water on his face he told his wife what had happened and when she would tell him he ought to be careful, he might lose his job, he would laugh his evil laugh and tell her, they wouldn't fire me. If they tried that Id have the whole joint on strike and they know it. They cant fuck me around. When he finished eating he went up to the bar and yelled to the guys at the bar how he told the punk ballbreaker off at work, punctuating his story with his laugh.
Mary had already gone to bed by the time Harry got home, but it didnt make any difference to him one way or the other whether or not she was awake, she wouldnt bother him for awhile anyway. He undressed and plopped into bed and looked at Mary to see if she would wake up, but she utterd a low grunting noise and pulled her knees up closer to her chin. Harry stayed on his side, facing Mary, and fell asleep.
The next morning Harry went up to the 6
th floor before going to his own bench. He checked to make sure the new man wasnt working on the stainless job. He smiled when he saw that he wasnt at his bench and stayed around for a while just to be sure they werent trying to pull a fast one; and before he left he went over to the foreman and told him he would see him later. He made his rounds throughout the rest of the plant and when he got back to his bench more than 2 hours had passed. He jabbed the start button and began working. The foreman came over and asked him when the job would be ready, the rest of the job is finished and we/re just waiting for this piece. He sneered at the foreman and told him it would be ready when he finished. The foreman took a quick glance at the job, estimating how long it would be before Harry finished, and left. Harry stared at him for a few minutes, wise fuck, then turned back to the job.
When Harry came back from lunch he went back to the 6th floor and checked again, then strolled around the plant. He got back to his bench eventually and finished the job then went back to the 6th floor. The new man was back at his bench, but a piece of brass was in his machine. Harry went over to him. Thats betta. You come close ta losin your book yesterday mac. He just glanced at Harry, wanting to tell him what he thought of him, but said nothing, having been told that morning about Harry and how he had had more than one book pulled, for no reason at all, from more than one guy. Harry sneered and walked away. He went back to his work, still glowing and feeling omnipotent. He didnt particularly care about the new guy, but he was glad he had shoved it up the boss/s ass and broke it off. He stayed at his work the rest of the day thinking occasionally of yesterday and of the fact that the union contract with the company expired in two weeks and the negotiating committees had not reached an agreement for a new contract and it was a sure thing that there would be a strike. Harry was so happy about going on strike—of closing down the entire shop, of setting up picket lines and watching the few bosses going into the empty factory and sitting at their desks and thinking and worrying about all the money they were losing
Last Exit to Brooklyn Page 10