Through The Factory & Into The Kitchen

The production floor is warm and alive with the droning of machinery. Late 70's funk plays over the PA system. I walk through the lines past a conveyor belt loaded evenly with tiny squares of lemon coloured paste. Each square moves slowly though dripping lines of dark brown chocolate. Guiding the paste onto the belt is a short man in his late 30's with a salt and pepper mustache. He see's me, and waves.

"Good morning Nelson," he says.

"Hi Lonny," I reply.

"Are you headed toward the kitchen?"

"Yeah."

Lonny shakes his head, rolls his eyes and laughs in disbelief.

"Ross is in a fine mood this morning," he says.

"Really? How come?" I ask.

"I don't know, but when I asked him how his morning was going he growled at me."

"Sounds like fun," I say beginning to walk away.

"Yeah, I know."

I nod and leave the production floor. I walk into the factory kitchen. Several large, flat, mixers spin slowly, kneading waves of sugary yellow paste. I walk past the mixers and up to a large stainless steel refridgerator. I open the doors and check the levels of stock inside.

"Nice day huh?" says a voice.

I close the doors and turn around. It's Ross. He has a long wooden paddle in his hands and he's stirring a dark brown liquid that is boiling over an open gas flame. I look out the windows that open up onto the factory kitchen. Morning sunlight shines brightly. Traffic zips by to and fro. A city bus pulls up to a stop.

"Yeah," I reply, "it's supposed to go up to 20 today."

Ross puts the paddle down, and walks over to the windows.

"It's a good day for gardening," he says.

"I don't have a garden."

"No?"

"No."

"Too bad."

Ross tears off a piece of paper towel from a nearby dispenser, and wipes off his arms.

"So when did the oranges come in Nelson?" he asks.

"Yesterday evening I believe," I reply.

"Do you know why they weren't brought in here right away?"

"I didn't know they had to be brought in right away."

"Well they have to come in here immediately because it's the candymaker's job to inspect them, weigh them, and put them into pails, and if we don't have them, then we have to go find them and that wastes our time. You know what I mean?"

"This is the first time I've heard this."

"Well, it's not your fault that no one ever communicates in this place, but because of that bullshit I found myself rushing around like a maniac, and it cost me."

"How did it cost you?"

Ross holds up his hand. He's wearing a latex glove, and the tip of one of his fingers is gored and bloodied within.

"It's been a shit week Nelson," he says, "I threw my back out. Yesterday I banged my head off the fridge, and this morning I chopped the tip of my finger off."

"Next time a citrus order comes in I'll make sure it get's in here right away," I tell him.

"Thanks Nelson. I'm not blaming you, but when I get behind and I have to rush, bad things happen."

I nod in affirmation and continue walking through the kitchen. I look out the windows again. The raw morning light looks beautiful, fresh. I rub my tired eyes, and put my pen and paper in my pocket.

Shaft

The photocopier whirs into action. I lean against the counterspace within the shipping office.

"Look at that big dumb moron Bruce," says Todd tearing off a roll of product labels, "he's been fucked so many times by rock hard shaft it's turned him stupid."

I look out into the warehouse. The shipping dock is alive with activity. Both shippers move about, loading and unloading supplies and store orders. Bruce stops one of the shippers and begins speaking to him instructively. The shipper nods his head in affirmation. Bruce finishes what he's saying and begins walking toward the shipping office. Todd sees him coming, walks toward the office door, and steps out into the warehouse. Bruce lowers his glasses and looks Todd over as he leaves.

"Todd?" he asks inquisitively as Todd walks past.

"Bruce!" Todd replies.

Bruce steps into the office. Todd turns and makes a ridiculous face, and then makes his way into the factory. I laugh a little to myself and then remove the copies from the photocopier.

"What's so funny?" Bruce asks sitting down at the shipping office computer.

"Todd was talking about something before you came in here," I respond.

"I don't know about that guy," Bruce says shaking his head, "what was he talking about?"

"He was talking about the movie Shaft."

Bruce chuckles to himself.

"Oh Nelson," he says though his laughter.

"What?" I ask.

"That wasn't a movie; It was a TV show, but that was a little before your time."

Bruce taps at the computer's keyboard. He gazes intently at the screen, his mouth open a little.

"That was a TV show?" I ask.

"Yes Nelson it was," he replies with an air of supercilious wisdom.

"I thought it was a movie."

"Well they did make a movie a few years ago, but it was a based on the old TV series."

"Oh. Well, the movie I'm thinking of was made around 1971."

Bruce looks up from his computer.

"1971?" he asks with a puzzled look, "there was a movie called Shaft made in 1971?"

"Yeah, with Richard Roundtree as the lead character," I reply.

"Oh. Well Richard Roundtree was in the TV series, but that was probably around 1973. I know they made a movie a couple years back, but there was one made in 1971?"

"Yep."

"Well Nelson, I guess you learn something new everyday."

I walk to the shipping office door. Bruce begins scrolling through his email acount.

"Yes indeed," he says quietly and sagaciously, "you learn something knew everyday."

I turn and leave the shipping office, and step out into the noise of the warehouse floor.

House of the Rising Sun

I kick open the forklift doors and step into the plant. The ladies from production line #5 look up as I enter. Several of them smile and then go back to work. I begin walking through the lines. Every line hums with activity. Hands move quickly as box after box passes by. I pass line #5.

"How you guys doing?" I ask the lead hand as I walk by.

"Good Nelson, very good. How about you?" she replies.

"Pretty good. Almost good enough to sing."

"Sing?"

"Yeah."

"Hey everybody!" says the lead hand to her crew, "Nelson's going to sing fo us!"

Several of the ladies laugh. All of them smile.

"Yes Nelson, sing for us!" one of the ladies shouts.

"Okay, just for the girls on line #5!" I reply.

I start walking the line. I put my hand over my heart and look to the ceiling, and then I begin.

There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl
And God I know I'm one

The whole line begins to laugh. I continue to howl and croon.

My mother she's a tailor
Sews them new blue jeans
My sweetheart he's a drunkard lord God
Drinks down in New Orleans

Every lady on the line laughs, claps and cheers.

"Oh Nelson!" says the lead hand, "we didn't know you could sing!"

"I can, but only for the ladies of line #5," I reply.

The whole line laughs.

"Well thank you Nelson," says the lead hand.

"No problem," I reply.

I bow and continue walking through the lines. I can still hear the women of line #5 laughing, but it eventually fades out as I walk deeper into the factory and the noise of production becomes louder.