Heat

Chapter 13

When Jesse woke there was a gray light in the room, and she was gone. For a moment he was sure he had dreamed too well, but her scent was still in the sheets, arousing him again. He heard her bedroom door open and close and her steps on the stairs; it was five-thirty A.M. by his bedside clock.

Jesse rose, showered, shaved, dressed in work clothes and went downstairs, not knowing what to expect from her. All seemed normal; Carey was eating her cereal while reading a schoolbook, and Jenny was at the stove, her back to him.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning, Jesse,” Carey said. “Mama’s fixing your breakfast.”

Jenny did not speak, but turned and looked at him, and there was uncertainty in her face.

“Good morning, Jenny,” he said with the warmest smile he could muster.

She blushed, then smiled. “Good morning, Jesse. You’re timing’s good; your eggs will be ready in ten seconds.”

A glass of freshly squeezed orange juice awaited him, and he sat down and drank it. The eggs were perfectly cooked, and the sausage was wonderful. “The sausage must be local,” he said.

She nodded, eating her own eggs. “I get it from one of our few remaining farmers.”

He finished his eggs, then glanced at his watch. “I think I should be a little early on my first day,” he said. “Can I drop Carey at school?”

Jenny shook her head. “She’s not due there until eight, and it’s close enough for her to walk.”

“That’s nice. See you later, then, Carey.”

“Goodbye, Jesse, have a nice day,” the little girl said.

He winked at Jenny, then left the table and started for the front door, grabbing his jacket from the coatrack in the hall.

“Jesse,” Jenny said. She had come out of the kitchen and into the hall.

Jesse looked to be sure Carey was still in the kitchen. He smiled.

“Don’t say anything,” she said, raising a hand. “Not yet.” Then she smiled broadly at him. “I just wanted you to know that I’m not feeling the least guilty this morning.”

He laughed. “Neither am I.”

“Go safely.”

In the truck he shoved the Pastoral tape into the player and hummed along with it. The morning was spectacular — chilly, crisp, with sparkling sunshine. He thought his heart would leap from his chest.

The Wood Products factory was quiet when he arrived, but the employees’ door was open, and Harley Waters was there before him.

“Morning, Jesse.”

“Morning, Harley.”

“Come on, I’ll show you the drill.”

Jesse followed him to the back of the building and watched as Harley hit a button and the truck entrance clattered noisily open. They climbed a few steps to a wooden platform. Harley pointed. “It’s real simple,” he said. “The trucks back in there, through the doors, and dump their loads. Further down there, they’re unloading cordwood, but here, at your station, it’s the remnants, and everything has to be fed into the hopper, there, by hand.” He handed Jesse a hardhat, some ear protectors and a pair of heavy gloves. “Don’t fall behind. Herman doesn’t like it when the trucks have to wait.” He took off his hardhat and scratched his head. “I think you’re smart enough to see that there’s nothing but your good sense to keep you from falling into that hopper yourself, Jesse, and if you do fall in, this machinery will make chipboard out of you.”

“I got you,” Jesse said, glancing at his watch. Ten minutes to go. “Have I got time to use the john?”

“If you hurry.” Harley walked away, and Jesse headed for the men’s room. He was back in time to see the first truck backing in.

The truck dumped a load of odd-sized pieces of wood, branches and trimmings, a real mess, Jesse thought. The machinery was turned on, and he began to grab stuff and throw it into the hopper.

At nine-fifteen, a bell rang, and the machinery stopped. Jesse thought he would faint with relief. His face, arms and body were covered in scratches from the logs and branches he had manhandled into the hopper. He walked stiffly to the men’s room to pee and to throw some water on his face. Harley Waters came in and assigned him a locker, and he drank some coffee from the thermos Jenny had prepared for him.

“How you like it so far, boy?” Harley laughed.

“It’s just swell,” Jesse replied.

When the bell rang again at five o’clock, Jesse could hardly walk to his truck. His body ached from one end to the other, and the only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that when he got home, Jenny and Carey would be waiting for him. He turned out to be half right.

When he walked through the front door, Carey appeared from the living room. “Mom’s upstairs getting dressed,” she said.

“I see,” Jesse replied. “Well, I think I’ll have a bath and change clothes. He trudged up the stairs to his room and peeled off his work clothes while the water ran in the tub. When it was full he climbed stiffly into it and sank under the water with a groan. He had, he reckoned, just done the hardest day’s work of his life. Herman Muller hadn’t been kidding when he said it was the worst job in the plant.

Jesse was wakened slowly by the cooling water. He climbed out of the tub, feeling half-human again, got dressed and started downstairs, glancing at his watch. He had been in the tub for more than an hour. The doorbell rang.

There was a man at the door, wearing a suit and looking as though he didn’t often wear it. Jesse walked to the door and opened it. “Evening, can I help you?”

The man stared at him. “I’m expected,” he said. “Who are you?”

Jesse opened the door and offered his hand. “I’m Jesse Barron; I’m boarding here.”

“Fred Patrick,” the man said shortly, shaking Jesse’s hand.

Carey appeared from the kitchen. “Oh, hello, Mr. Patrick,” she said, “Mama will be down in a minute.”

As if on cue, Jenny came out of her room and down the stairs. “Hello, Fred,” she said to the man, pecking him on the cheek. “Oh, Hello, Jesse.”

“Hi,” he replied.

“Fred and I are going to a dinner out at the Legion Hall,” she explained.”

Jesse’s heart fell. He had been looking forward to seeing her. “I see. I’ll be happy to take care of Carey.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Jenny replied. “She’s staying with a friend for the night.”

“For the night?” Jesse said dully.

“Yes, I won’t be back until late. I left you a plate in the oven.”

“Thanks,” he managed to say. “You folks have a nice evening.”

“Let’s go, Fred,” Jenny said.

Jesse watched them to the door. As they went out, Fred Patrick shot a suspicious glance at Jesse.

Jesse didn’t blame him a bit. He went into the kitchen, retrieved the warm plate from the oven and sat down disconsolately to eat it.

It wasn’t the evening he’d had in mind.