The last thing Carl wanted to spend his evening doing was waiting around one of the smaller rooms down the hall from the main office until they got confirmation to go load up the merchandise from warehouse eleven into a truck and then haul it back here. The night air was chilly this late at the best of times, and if he bothered to turn his head slightly to his left, Carl would be able to see that frost had already formed in thick layers on the outsides of the windows here, never mind out at the docks.
Still, Carl found himself staring blankly at the
rather large TV screen in front of him, not taking in what was actually playing
but just letting the low sound wash over him as he thought longingly of being
home instead, sound asleep in his bed, his wife’s light snoring in his ear as
her hair got caught in his mouth or up his nose. It’d been over three weeks
since he’d been home early enough to eat dinner with her and their daughters,
to hear how everyone’s day had been, to argue about whose turn it was to wash
the dishes or just to sit in front of his own TV, a beer in hand, and not pay
attention to his own set as he listened to nothing in particular.
“Want something?” one of his coworkers asked, stuck
here late like him, and Carl looked up at Luke to give him a slight, tired
smile.
“Nah,” he answered, waving a hand at the vending
machine in the corner that housed a variety of sports drinks, flavored waters,
and energy shots. “Not in the mood for anything but a bed.”
Luke sighed in agreement and pushed the button for his
own selection. The machine made noises like it was dying and then coughed up an
energy drink. “Know what you mean,” he said. “These late-night shifts when the
shipments come in kill me.” He opened his drink and took a long swallow, then,
unexpectedly, smirked. “And if they don’t, my girlfriend does when I finally walk
in the door.”
“She stays up?” the last member of their moving crew
asked, coming back into the room from making a call to check on his babysitter.
Carl knew that George was raising a small boy all by himself, the mother having
run off with a younger man before the kid was even out of diapers. George hated
these long nights more than Carl and Luke combined, hated having to ask a
babysitter to stay over practically all night and hated not putting his boy to
bed, but the overtime they got paid during these few weeks was worth the
hassle, just barely.
Carl was also surprised at the news that Luke’s
girlfriend stayed up waiting for him. Sure, sometimes when Carl crawled into
the bed, it woke up Patti, but she barely did more than grumble and roll over.
At that time of the night, after a full day at her own job and being the only
parent in the house to sort out whatever their daughters decided to argue about
that day, there was no way that his wife had the time or energy to stay up
waiting for him to come home.
Luke snorted, but was still smiling slightly. “Sets
the alarm for when I’m supposed to get in and then hits the snooze if I’m not
there yet until she hears the car pull up,” he said. “Then she comes out to
berate me, heats up some food, sits there and yells at me some more while I eat
it about how stupid it is to sign up for these graveyard shifts just to earn a
few extra dollars that we really kind of need, and then makes me take a shower
‘cause I ‘smell like a bloated fish’. Then I finally get to go the hell to
sleep.”
Carl laughed lightly. “I think my wife’d smack me
upside the head if I suggested she do the same,” he replied wryly, and George
snickered. Luke saluted them both with the rest of his drink and then chugged
it, tossing the empty can at the trash, where it missed widely enough that Carl
and George laughed louder at the scowl on Luke’s face as he grudgingly stalked
over and picked up the can again in disgust.
The beeping of the intercom caused Carl to motion to
one of the others to turn down the sound on the TV, even though it was already
quiet enough to barely hear. Pressing the button on the side to talk into it,
he cleared his throat slightly. “Yes, sir?” he spoke into the speaker.
As usual, the woman’s voice that came on the other end
was perfectly clear and sounded as crisp as if her day had only started an hour
ago and it was not the middle of the night. “The chairman says that the
merchandise has now been unloaded from the docks,” she announced. “Please
retrieve all the boxes in warehouse eleven and deliver them to storage room
seven.”
Although her last sentence contained the word
‘please’, it was clearly not a request.
The same instructions as every other night, besides
the numbers being different, and Carl was actually kind of impressed that the
woman didn’t sound as bored by saying her instructions as he was of hearing
them. Pressing the button again, he replied, “Will do.” The line went dead and
the intercom silent. He turned around and shared an exasperated look with the
other two, shaking his head. “Come on, then.”
“So eager to freeze,” Luke grumbled, but only
halfheartedly, and then they all left the room, glad that the last week of this
season’s shipments was almost behind them.
-------------------------
Want to find out what happens next? Read the full story here on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08MCKHHJ3.
