Homepage
Login
Profile
BookClubs
dmBox
Read Ebook: All Day Wednesday by Olin Richard Schelling George Illustrator
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page
Ebook has 161 lines and 7307 words, and 4 pages
Illustrator: George Schelling
Transcriber's Note:
ALL DAY WEDNESDAY
Practically everybody would agree that this is Utopia....
by RICHARD OLIN
ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE SCHELLING
Ernie turned the dial on his television. The station he had selected brightened and the face of the set turned from dark to blue. Ernie sipped his can of beer. He was alone in the room, and it was night.
The picture steadied and Jory looked out of the set at him. Jory's face was tired. He looked bad.
"Hello, Ernie," Jory said.
Ernie turned the dial to the next station.
"Hello, Ernie," the face of Jory said.
At the next spot on the dial: "Hello, Ernie." The next: "Hello, Ernie."
There were five stations that Ernie's set was able to receive. When the fifth station said "Hello, Ernie," and Jory's tired face looked out at him, Ernie shrugged, took another sip from his can of beer and sat down to watch the set.
That happened Wednesday night. Wednesday morning began like this:
Ernie glanced at his watch and went sprawling out of his bed. He was late. He didn't even have time for breakfast.
His last thought, as he slammed out of his apartment, was an angry regret that he had not had time to pack a lunch. He would have to eat in the plant cafeteria again. Cafeteria lunches cost money. Money concerned Ernie. It always did. But right now he was going to need money for the week end; payday was another week away.
Ernie punched in twelve minutes late.
His foreman was waiting beside the time clock. He was a big man, and what was left of his red hair matched in color the skin of his neck. And the color of his face, when he grew angry.
His name was Rogers. He smiled now as Ernie nervously pushed his time card into the clock. His voice was warm and jovial as he spoke.
Ernie smiled uncertainly. "I'm sorry, Rogers. I know I'm late, but the time just sort of got away from me--"
"Uh, yeah. Well, like I said, I'm sorry and--"
Ernie swallowed. Hurriedly, he said, "Look I'm sorry. I'll get right in there--"
Rogers smiled. "That would be nice, Mr. Stump. I imagine there are quite a few Sub-Assembly 3-A's stacked up in there by now. You just trot in there and get them cleaned up."
Ernie nodded doubtfully. "You ain't mad?"
Rogers' smile grew broader. "Mad, Mr. Stump? Why, being chewed out by the manager is a trifle. It's something a foreman must expect. It happens to some of them every day--for a while. And when it does, it doesn't matter because in just a little while they are no longer foremen. Sometimes, they aren't even workmen, any more. And then they have nothing at all to worry about, so don't let it concern you, Mr. Stump. Do you take the streetcar to work?"
"Huh? Uh, yeah, I do."
"I thought so." Rogers nodded his head benignly. "Well, just as a suggestion, the next time you see you're going to be late it might be better if you saved your car-fare and used it to buy a newspaper."
Ernie smiled uncertainly. "O.K. Uh, why?"
Ernie did.
He worked the rest of the morning in a sullen mood. For one thing, with the extra time that Rogers had taken up, Sub-Assembly Line 3-A was a mess. Incomplete sub-assemblies were stacked on the floor all around Ernie's spot on the line. He would have to pin them and slip them into the production line as best he could.
Next to him on the line, Broncewicz said: "Ernie, we'll never get this job out. Where were you?"
And Ernie told him about the beef with Rogers. He worked as he talked, but the more he talked the angrier he got. Rogers had been unfair. He asked Broncewicz, "How can anybody do a good job with that guy all the time riding 'em?"
Broncewicz nodded. "You should take it to the union."
Ernie snorted. "That's a hot one. Rogers used to be our shop steward."
"Yeah, I forgot." Broncewicz scratched at a hairy ear. "Anyway, you should tell him off."
"Yeah, I should tell...." Ernie laid aside a wrench to phrase exactly what he wished to say to Rogers, and the next sub-assembly slipped past. Both he and Broncewicz grabbed it hastily.
Unfortunately, Rogers happened to be watching. He walked over. Broncewicz became intently interested in his work. Ernie sighed resignedly.
Rogers seemed surprisingly resigned, himself. All he said was, "I thought you got enough sleep this morning, Stump. Wake up, get on the stick." He walked off.
Broncewicz raised his head. "Hey, I thought you were going to tell him?"
"Aw, shut up."
Ernie did not like his foreman, but neither did he like the prospect of losing his job. He couldn't afford to be out of work.
The noon whistle blew as he was finishing the last of the extra assemblies. Ernie tossed his tools down and left the line.
The sight of the food in the cafeteria reminded him all over again that he was spending too much money. His stomach had felt queasy. It now turned sour. Without looking at them, Ernie selected a plate of frankfurters and spaghetti, picked up a carton of milk for the sake of his stomach, and sat down at the nearest table.
Jory sat down beside him. "Joe's waving at you," he said, nodding at the cashier at the end of the counter. "You forgot to pay."
"What?" Ernie stomped over to the counter, threw down the money and returned to his seat. To Jory he said: "I feel bad today."
"Uh-huh," Jory said disinterestedly. He turned a page of the book he had propped next to his plate.
"Don't be a wise guy," Ernie grunted. He turned his attention to his plate. Several mouthfuls of spaghetti convinced him that he was hungry after all. He swallowed and opened his carton of milk. He looked up at the book Jory was holding. Jory was a funny guy, always reading.
"What's the book today?" he asked.
Jory held the cover so he could see the title. "Celine's 'Journey to the End of Night.' It's French."
Ernie's interest quickened. "French, huh? Has it got any good stuff in it? You know, like Miller has?" He laughed.
"No."
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page