Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“Well, John Anderton told us to carry on,” he said, with an edge to his voice. “We take our
orders from him, and I don't like being a pawn in someone else's war.” He raised his voice,
his face growing red.
“I don't care what John Anderton told you. I am telling you to quit that damn dust and
racket, do you understand? I run this yard; John Anderton is employed by us; he takes or-
ders from me. Now I am telling you to both take yard brooms and sweep that up by hand,
and leave that damn Bobcat alone.” With that she turned about and disappeared inside her
office, slamming the door behind for effect. Why is it that women always slam doors so
hard?
He tramped down the stairs again, his face white and set from confrontation. This was not
good, last week we were the dock heroes; now suddenly our shares had plummeted and
we were beginning to look like two lowly broom sweeps. We saw the grumpy Mexican,
malevolent satisfaction spread all over his nasty face. “God what is it with that damned
jerk? I bet he and Carole have something sweet going between them,” I said angrily.
“They damned well deserve each other!” he retorted.
We went in search of some brooms, and Gray appeared at the workshop door as did a
couple of other more sympathetic faces. They were all grinning when Gray spoke, “Well,
having a little problem with the dragon lady?” he boomed out loudly with laughter, “Yeah,
she's a tyrant alright. Stick with John and you'll be alright,” he advised, and the other guys
chorused their agreement.
We secured two large bristle brushes and began sweeping the yard, anger and embarrass-
ment eventually turning into a comradely show of exuberant indifference, egged on by the
knowing smiles and waves of the friendlier workers. They had obviously experienced this
with Carole before.
John Anderton came quickly around the corner and, white in the face, came marching
straight across to us. “What the hell are you two Africans doing now?” He asked. All traces
of former friendliness had evaporated. I stepped in the breach as I had visions of us being
fired on the spot, “John, it's not our fault; I mean what would you do if the owner's wife
told you to quit what you were doing, and you had only been here for a few weeks?” I said,
as diplomatically as possible.
“I would listen to the yard foreman that hired me in the first place, you guys,” he said, his
steel blue eyes glinting with annoyance.
Turning to Gavin he said, “Get back on that Bobcat and get to cleaning up this yard. Ignore
Carole, even if she's standing on her head on the window ledge, do you understand me?”
he asked quietly, almost menacingly.
