The Deadline

A short story

The Deadline

A midst the roar of machinery, a small dust filled beam of light made its way from the single tiny dirt encrusted window high above the factory floor. The solitary beam shined down like a theater spotlight illuminating Carl's desk in a world otherwise cast in dim darkness.

Carl cringed as he saw Jacob Thomas making his way across the factory floor towards the office area. He knew where he was heading, because his destination was the same every day.  He looked at the giant piles of orders, invoices and reconciliation sheets that never seemed to go up or down, but rather stayed the same no matter how furiously he worked to make a dent in them.  Though he knew Jacob was heading for his desk, he thought it best to keep his eyes down and keep typing.  Even when Jacob stopped and stood directly in front of his desk, Carl just continued typing; hoping that if Jacob saw how hard he was working, he might just move on. This strategy never worked.

Good morning Carl.

Good morning Mr. Thomas

The folks in the main office were on the phone again this morning. It seems we are still getting a lot of complaints regarding orders and invoicing.  I know I've spoken to you about this several times, but it really is getting out of hand and my options are becoming very limited.  I'm sure from our previous conversations you know what I'm getting at.

Yes Mr. Thomas, I do, and I really have been working as hard as I can.  I've been putting in longer days as you requested and I'm even working the weekends whenever possible.  I know the factory has been doing really well which is part of the reason I keep falling behind no matter how hard I try to keep up.  With things going so well, do you think it might be possible to hire an assistant to help with the increasing workload?

Carl; you know I would love to hire someone to help you out, but one of the reasons the factory is doing so well is because we have tight budgets and we stick with them.  I know you've been with us since we opened our doors; what has it been about 27 years now?

28 years sir.

Yes.....well....you see Carl....that's part of the problem.  You've been with us for such a long time, and we've done our best to take care of you.  Unfortunately, we've given you so many pay raises over those years, you are now earning way beyond the pay scale for your position.  In fact, I could now hire two entry level clerks for what I'm paying you.  I'm sure two hungry young clerks could easily knock off the work you seem to be struggling with; but I've hesitated to do this because of our long standing friendship and your loyalty to the company.

And you know I do appreciate that sir.

I know you do Carl, but you are just going to have to do something to show me you can make this work, or you leave me with no choice.  Do you understand me Carl?

I do sir, and again I thank you for continuing to give me this chance.

Yes....well....there are only so many chances I have to give.  This is getting to the point where I can no longer cover for you.  Do you understand what I'm saying?

I do sir, I will fix this, and there won't be any more problems.

Be sure that they're aren't.

I will, thank you sir.

Yes...

Without the slightest glimpse of humanity on his face, Jacob Thomas cleared his throat and walked away.

As he departed, his footsteps; which by all reason should have been inaudible; actually seemed to get louder. Carl soon realized it was not the footsteps he was hearing at all, but rather a growing pounding in his head as his mind began to race.

Friendship and loyalty my a*s, what a f*****g a*****e he thought.  He had always killed himself for this place and this is how they were treating him.  This was the reward for a lifetime of dedication.  It might have been worth it if his life outside of work was any better; but all he had to show for his blood sweat and tears was a mountain of debt, a nagging wife and three ungrateful children.

The pounding in his head had now escalated to pile-driver magnitude as he was finding it difficult to swallow.  He thought a glass of water might help as his throat had become very dry; but he was also becoming dizzy and wasn't sure if standing up would be such a good idea.  He suddenly felt cold and clammy yet he was also sweating profusely.  Pain was now radiating across his chest as if he were being crushed by a giant vice.  He wanted to call out for help, but couldn't even breath.  The intense searing pain shot down his right arm as his face and fists clenched in agony.

As a cloud crossed the sun, the beam of light disappeared as if someone had turned off a switch.  Everything went black as Carl momentarily slumped into his chair before falling to the floor.

A short while later, the medics who had been called pronounced Carl dead and covered him with a sheet.  The curtain had fallen on his final act, in this industrial theater that had been his life.

It was early morning as I made my way through the tall grass surrounding the abandoned factory.  I easily passed through what was left of what was probably once the main gate.  The grounds were littered with rusting hunks of discarded equipment; now mostly homes for rodents and insects.

I spent a little time walking the grounds in an unhurried fashion.  As eager as I was to go inside, I also enjoyed letting they mystery and suspense build a bit.  Eventually I felt that I had surveyed the grounds for an appropriate amount of time and entered the factory through a giant double door entrance, whose one remaining door remained hanging from a single hinge.

Stepping through the door of an abandoned building is always such an amazing emotional experience for me.  It is truly a trip into another world.  This visit was no different. 

As always; being a mechanic; I was drawn to the machinery.  Giant presses, punches and boring machines lined several isles.  Many of these were connected by conveyor belts. Though most of the factory was surprisingly still intact; a lot of the plumbing and wiring systems had been dismantled for scrap.

Despite the thick layer of dust blanketing everything, I paused to reflect and could almost see the factory as it once was.  I could see men in blue work aprons at their station or running about the machines.  I could even hear the cacophony created by all the clanking, banging and roaring of equipment.

As I made my way to the end of the floor, the factory merged into an office area.  I imagined it must have been a pretty poor place to do office work with all the noise.  I suppose the air and lighting wasn't the best either. I normally don't pay much attention to offices, because I find them a bit boring and pretty much all the same; but for some reason I found myself paused at one particular desk.

It was a plain old wooden desk no different than the other two dozen or so that surrounded it.  Though it's hard to explain, a very odd feeling came over me while I stood there.  It was kind of a chill that passed right through me; which was odd being August and quite warm in the old facility.  I also felt a touch of nausea and could almost hear the echo of some long ago voices.  As uncomfortable as the experience was, I couldn't help remaining there for a moment, transfixed on the tall piles of paper which seemed to have gone undisturbed for quite some time.  Suddenly I shuddered and snapped out of my daze.  I decided I had spent enough time in the old factory, and was ready to return to the world of the living.  I made my way back to the large entrance, but before exiting, I felt compelled to turn around and take one more look.

As I glanced back through the gray light, I could see all the way back to the office at the far end of the plant.  Just then, a beam of sunlight cascaded down through a small broken window at the top of the building and illuminated the desk where I had been standing just moments before.  To my shock and amazement, there now appeared to be a man sitting at the desk, working feverishly, as if the plant had never closed.  The nausea I had experienced previously now returned with a vengeance as I began swooning; barely able to stand.  Just then, a cloud began to cross under the sun, and as the beam of light disappeared so did the strange apparition.

Not actually knowing what I had just seen, I felt very scared and physically uncomfortable.  I couldn't get away from there fast enough and I was still shaking when I finally made it back to my car.  My head was spinning.  What the f**k was that I thought.

A midst the roar of machinery, a small dust filled beam of light made its way from the single tiny dirt encrusted window high above the factory floor. The solitary beam shined down like a theater spotlight illuminating Carl's desk in a world otherwise cast in dim darkness............................................................