Terminal

“Relax, Tommy. I heard what happened, and it sounds to me like you were justified— though don’t you dare quote me on that, because I’d deny it. Juan will be getting written up later today for not following safety procedures. But this isn’t about that.”

A new headache started up then, centered in my left temple and spreading like fire.

“Tommy, I’m sure you’re aware that we’ve been having some problems. The economy is down, and as a result, so is our production. You’ll recall a that few months ago we laid off everybody with three years or less tenure?”

I nodded, not liking where this was going.

“Well, that hasn’t had the desired effect that senior management hoped it would have. As the economy worsens, so does our profitability. So now they’ve made the decision to have another round of layoffs. This time it affects those employees with four to six years of tenure. Unfortunately, you fall into that group.”

“I— you’re laying me off?”

“I’m sorry, Tommy. I really am.”

“Shit!”

“It’s not just you, Tommy. I’ve got the unhappy duty of telling thirty-three more of your fellow workers this afternoon. It takes effect at the end of the shift today. Believe me, that’s not my decision. Management says studies show if you terminate an employee or lay them off on a Friday, there’s less chance of workplace violence. Not that I think we have to worry about that with any of you guys, but again, it’s not my choice.”

I sat there, speechless.

“You’ll need to turn in your time card, and any safety equipment or company tools that you have in your locker or at your machine.”

“Okay.”

He reached in a drawer, pulled out an envelope, and slid my paycheck across the desk to me.

“Here’s your check for this week and next week, as well as your severance pay and payment for your unused vacation time. I hope it will help.”

“I’m out of a job.” It wasn’t a question. I was just stating it out loud, trying to get used to the sound of it.

He lowered his head. “I’m sorry, son.”

“Damn. Well, I guess that’s it then.”

I started to rise, but he held up his hand.

“Tommy, wait a moment. Can I tell you something?”

I sat back down, nodding.

“I’ve worked here a long time. In fact, I started out on the Number Two line, just like you. Back then, we only had three lines total, and two men per line. Believe it or not, your father worked with me. Do you remember much about him?”

“I remember that he was an asshole.”

Charlie grinned. “That he was. That he was indeed. He was a drunk, and he liked to fight. I never got along with him, and neither did anybody else. In fact, when you applied here, I was hesitant to hire you. Like father, like son, you know? That’s what they say. Odds were you’d be an asshole too. But I did take you on, because we needed workers. I figured maybe you’d last a month before we had to fire you for calling in sick and missing days. Or maybe insubordination.”

I stared at him, listening.

“But we didn’t. You surprised me, Tommy, and after about six months, I realized just how unfair I’d been to prejudge you like that. You’re nothing like your father, and I want you to know that. You look like him, yes. God, you look so much like him that sometimes I almost call you by his name. But you’re not him. You’re a good man, and a good employee. Be proud of that. I’m very sorry to lose you. I’ve got to tell this to a lot of people today, but I wanted to tell you first. I felt that I owed you that much.”

“I appreciate it, Charlie. Thanks.”

“I know that right now things must seem pretty grim. But they won’t be for long. Of that you can be sure. You’re a young guy and a hard worker. You’ll be able to find a job. I’m positive of it. And I’ll be glad to give you a reference, tell them that you were a model employee. The important thing is to not let this get you down. Too many guys in this town, guys like your father, would use this opportunity as another chance to get loaded and beat up on their families or knock over a liquor store. You’re better than that. Don’t dwell on it. If there’s one thing that this fight with cancer has taught me, it’s not to dwell on the bad things in life.”

I was gripping the chair so hard that my fingers had gone numb.

“That’s all,” he said. “I just wanted you to know that.”

I stood up, shook his hand, and walked to the door.

“Thanks again, Charlie. Thanks for being straight with me, at least.”

“Like I said, Tommy. Don’t dwell on it. You’ll be fine. You’re young and you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

I closed the door behind me, then I ran. I ran down the hall and into the foundry. I ran to the bathroom and exploded through the doors. I almost didn’t make it in time. The puke and blood sprayed between my fingers as I lurched into the first stall and collapsed to my knees. There was a lot of it. The soup I’d had for lunch, blood, spit— and more of my insides. This time, it was something gray, like an uncooked sausage, covered in blood and what looked like diluted motor oil.

You’ve got your whole life ahead of you . . .