Chapter Five

Just as I expected, the pizza was stale and tasted weird. The pepperoni was dry and crusty and tasted just like bacon that had been left out for awhile. I hastily swallowed the last of the slice and guzzled whatever coffee was left in the cheap styrofoam cup. I was still twenty-six minutes outside Minerva, speeding along a poorly maintained two-lane road. I glanced up through the windshield and caught sight of numerous contrails at high altitude. More than likely military jets. My brother entered my mind, and I sat still for a moment. The months since his death did little to distance my profound sadness that I felt the day he died. I continued to think of Nathan through the rest of the drive. I finally crossed the small bridge into the Minerva city limits. Within another five minutes, I spotted the first sign of civilization, the small Kangaroo gas station. From there, the suburban sprawl unfolded into the businesses of Minerva. Fast food, tailors, clothes shops, curio stores, Minerva had it all and more. I got over to the right and caught sight of my workplace, the tall and drab warehouse where I slaved for my meager restitution. I pulled into the parking lot and parked the Jimmy, careful not to scrape the SUV in the spot next to me. I trotted to the main doors and hurried inside, the biting(albeit warming with the rising of the sun)wind nipping at my heels. The lights were off in the lobby, but I hurried through to the double doors that led to the warehouse. They didn't open the first time I pushed them(thanks for the "new locks", maintenance). I threw my weight against the doors again, and they reluctantly budged. The warehouse was already bustling, even at six in the morning. A couple of forklifts were moving heavy pallets of books down to the loading bay, where big rigs were waiting to take them all over the country. Supervisors were running everywhere, and lifters(like me) were carrying and sorting boxes to be loaded onto the pallets. I hurried to the wall clock to punch in, earning another hole in my timecard. I hurried over to my shift manager, Tricia and got my orders: a new Tom Clancy novel was being shipped out, and we had 150,000 copies coming through the warehouse to be shipped to the stores on the west coast. The halogen lights illuminated my lifting, setting, and pulling for my twelve-hour shift. By the end, I was so tired I could barely stand up. Big book releases were the worst on us, especially the big ones. We had two lifters pull muscles when the last Harry Potter book came out. We had four million copies come through in two days. The sun was beginning to find its way to the horizon as I punched out and headed to my car. I got in quickly and immediately gave the car a little more gas than usual to kickstart the heater.