Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr (14 page)

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Harry moved along the few blocks from his house to
the factory, punched his time card, changed his clothes and went to
his bench. He was the worst lathe operator of the more than 1,000 men
working in the factory. He started shortly before the war and
remained there all during the war. Soon after the war started the
shop steward was drafted and Harry took his place and devoted more
time to the activities of the union than he did his job. From the
beginning he hounded and haunted the bosses and soon he was part of
the outer clique of the union. During the war the company was
powerless to fire him and when they tried after the war the union
threatened to call a strike so Harry still stood in front of the same
lathe.

Harry worked for 30 minutes or so each morning then
turned off his lathe and made the rounds of the factory reminding
those who were behind in their dues that they had to pay by a certain
date; asking others why they hadnt been to the last union meeting; or
simply telling others not to work so fast, it aint gonna get ya
nothin. Youre only makin money for the company and they got enough.
And though he had been doing this for years and the foremen had
learned to ignore him, many of the executives, especially cost
estimators, production engineers, and the General Manager of the
plant who was also a Vice-President of the Company, were still
incensed whenever they saw him walking around the factory in defiance
of all the rules and regulations. Usually they stormed off in another
direction, but occasionally they would demand to know what he was
doing and he would tell them he was doin his job, and if they
persisted in questioning him he would tell them to go fuckthemselves,
and if they did their job as good as he did his everybody would be
better off and what the fuck do they know about work, all they do is
sit on their fat asses all day breakin balls . . . and he would be
sure to walk away smiling his sneering smile, looking at everyone,
letting them know by his attitude that he wasnt afraid of any bigass
boss, but they damn sure were afraid of him, convinced that what he
had said was true and that he was right in doing and saying what he
had.

His morning round usually took an hour and a half to
2 hours. Then he would go back to his bench and work until lunch
time. Harry never went home for lunch, but went across the street to
the bar and ate with the boys. He always started with a couple a
quick shots and a beer, then a few beers with a sandwich and a few
more after. He talked with some of the men, listening to their jokes,
their stories of dames fucked, following each story with one of his
own about how he bagged some dame and threw a fuck intoer and how she
thought he was so great and wanted to seeim again and the others
would listen, tolerating him, relieved when he would finally leave
their group to go to another; and Harry would continue making the
rounds of the bar, listening briefly then telling his stories or a
joke about a queer who had his ears pulled off; occasionally sticking
a finger in someones stomach and farting; or asking someone when they
were going to buy him a drink, laughing, slapping the guy on the
shoulder, and leaving when he said right after you do; or if they
were new on the job he would put his empty glass on the bar and wait
for the bartender to fill it up and take the money from their change
on the bar.

During the middle of the afternoon Harry reached the
part of a job that required resetting the lathe and doing a small
amount of figuring to set the job up properly so he decided to take a
little walk. If he got too far behind in the work the foreman would
have to set the job up. He slowly roamed around the factory asking
some of the men how it was going, but mostly saying nothing and just
smiling his smile, looking and roaming. He was walking around the 6th
floor when he suddenly stopped and frowned, thought hard for a few
minutes, took the small union booklet from his pocket describing the
duties of different classifications, checked it then went over to one
of the benches, turned off the lathe and asked the man working there
what inthehell he thought he was doin. The man just stood there,
trying to understand what had happened and trying to understand what
Harry was talking about. Harry stood in front of him waving the
booklet in the air, yelling over the noise of the factory. A few of
the men near by turned to look and the foreman came running over,
yelling at the operator, still standing in front of Harry trying to
understand what was going on, and yelled, whys that goddamn machine
off? Harry turned to the foreman and asked him if he told him to do
this job. Whointhehell do you think toldim to do it. Im the foreman
aint I. Well what the fucks the idea of havinim cut heavy stainless,
eh? What the fucks the idea? Whattayamean whats the idea? This guys a
A man. Hes been cuttin stainless for years. Why shouldnt he cut it.
Cause hes a new man thats why. He only been here a couple a months.
He doesnt even have a full union book yet. Aint that right, eh? Aint
it? yellin in the operators face, waving the booklet. Yeah, but Ive
been in the business 20 years. I can cut anything. Harry stepped
closer to him, turning his back to the foreman and yelling louder. I
dont give a fuck what ya can cut, ya hear me? The union says ya gotta
have a full book or been here 6 months before ya can cut heavy
stainless, and ya betta do like I tellya or youll find yaself
blackballed, yelling even louder, his face swollen —the operator
staring, not understanding, wanting only to do his work and be left
alone—ya hear me? The foreman finally forced himself into the line
of Harrys vision and yelled at him ta shut up. Fa krists sake, what
thefuck ya yellin about? Im yellin cause I wanna yell. And youd betta
get this guy off the job or youll find your ass inna sling too. Fa
krists sake Harry, this jobs gotta be done and hes the only guy whos
not workin a job that can do it. I dont give a fuck if ya havta wait
ten fuckin years ta get it done, and I dont giveashit how much it
costs the boss. Comeon Harry be reasonable, you—I can cut stainless
or any other damn thing you got around here. Look buddy, youd better
shut yafuckinmouth or youll be out on your ass. The operators face
turned red and he started to reach for a wrench and the foreman
quickly stepped in front of him, grabbed him by the shoulders and
told him to go take a break, I/ll getya when we settle this. He left
and the foreman took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second
before turning back to Harry. Look Harry, theres no sense in making a
issue of this. You know I never break any union rules, but this jobs
gotta be done and he can do it so whats the harm? Dont try and
brownnose me Mike. He aint cuttin no stainless. OK, OK, let me call
upstairs and see what we can do. He walked back to his desk to call
and Harry leaned against the idle lathe. The foreman hung up the
phone and came back. Wilsonll be right down and maybe we can get this
straightened out. I dont give a fuck whos comin down.

In a few minutes Wilson, a production manager, came
rushing across the floor. He smiled, put his arms around Mikes and
Harrys shoulders. What seems to be the problem boys, smiling at Harry
and giving Mikes shoulder a reassuring and knowing squeeze. Harry
scowled, turned slightly so that Wilsons hand fell from his shoulder
and barely opened his mouth when he spoke. The man at this machine
aint cuttin no stainless. I tried to tellina Mr. Wilson that the job
had ta be done—thats OK Mike, patting his shoulder and smiling even
broader at both of them, Im sure we can straighten this thing out.
Harrys a reasonable man. Nothin ta straighten out. He aint cuttin
stainless. Mike started to throw his arms up in disgust, but Wilson
put an arm around him and held his arms for a second, smiled then
patted him again on the back. Why dont we go into the lounge and have
a smoke and talk this over? How about it boys? Mike said OK and
started walking toward the smoking room. Harry grunted and stood
still as Wilson motioned him on, waiting until Wilson started walking
behind Mike before he too followed, a foot or so behind Wilson. When
they got to the smoking room Wilson took out a pack of cigarettes and
offered them. Mike took one and stuck it in his mouth. Harry said
nothing, but took one out of his own pack, ignored Wilsons lighter,
lighting his own cigarette. Wilson asked them if they would like a
coke and they both declined. The operator, who had been sitting in
the corner, came over to Mike and asked him if he could go back to
work. Harry started to yell something, but Mike told the man to go
out to his bench, but not to turn his machine on. Just wait there.
We/ll be out in a minute. The man left and Wilson turned immediately
to Harry, smiling, trying to appear relaxed and trying to hide his
hatred for him.

Wilson looked at Harry and decided that it wouldnt do
to try the arm around the shoulder routine again. Now look Harry, I
understand and respect your position. I have known and have had the
pleasure of working with you for quite a few years now and I know,
just as Mike here knows, and everyone in the plant knows, that youre
a good and honest worker, and that you always have the interest of
the organization and the men at heart. Isnt that right Mike? Mike
nodded automatically. Like I say Harry, we all know you are a good
man and that no one else could have done the job you have in keeping
the union affairs of this plant functioning as they have been and we
all respect and admire you for this. And we all respect and admire
your intelligence and ability. And believe me when I say this,
because I say this not as an executive of the organization, but as a
man who works with the other men here, I say this as a fellow worker:
I would be the last person in the world to ask anyone to make even
the slightest breach in the union rules and regulations. To me a
contract is a sacred instrument and I will stand by it come hell or
high water . . . but, and I say this as a worker and an executive . .
. look, its like this: its just like in the union itself. You have
your constitution and bylaws. Right? I am certain you are familiar
with them. And I am also certain that you follow them to the letter,
but there are times when you might have to make a slight exception.
Now wait a minute—Harry leaning forward and starting to speak-just
hear me out. Now look, suppose the rules say a meeting should start
at 8 oclock, but suddenly theres a big snow storm and it takes the
men 30 minutes or an hour longer to get to the meeting. Now, you
either will have to wait and start the meeting late or you will have
to start it on time without the proper number of members present.
Wilson smiled, relaxed and took a drag of his cigarette, satisfied
with his cleverness, thinking that Harrys position was untenable.
Harry took a drag of his cigarette, blew the smoke in Wilsons
direction, dropped the butt on the floor and squashed it under his
shoe. What we do at the union meet-ins is none of your business
unless we want ta tellya about it. O, I know that Harry, I certainly
didnt mean to imply otherwise. All I am trying to say is that this
organization, like your union, is like any other organization in that
it is a team and everyone connected with the organization from the
President to the elevator operators are a member of that team and we
all have to pull together. Everyones job is equally important. The
Presidents job is no more important than yours in that if you dont
cooperate, just as he must cooperate, we can not get the job done.
That is what I am trying to say. We all have to get behind the wheel,
just like in the union. Now, we have a job that must be done and it
must be done now. This new man is the only man available to do it at
this time. That is the only reason he is doing it. We certainly had
no intention of being instrumental in asking anyone to do anything
that might even be considered a breach of union rules, but the job
has to be done—look, this guys a new man and aint cuttin no
stainless so just stop the shit. If ya put him back on the job I/ll
call the whole goddamn plant out, Harrys face becoming redder, his
eyes glaring, ya get that? I/ll stand by that fuckin bench all day if
I have ta and if ya try to putim back on that job I swear ta krist
the whole fuckin plantll be out on the street in two fuckin seconds
and you and no ballbreakin fuck in the jointll stop me. Ya getit? If
ya want a strike I/ll giveya one. He walked out of the room, slamned
the door and walked back to the bench. He said nothing to the man who
was leaning impatiently against the bench, but simply stood at the
other end.

Mike and Wilson looked at the door for a moment then
Mike asked Wilson if he wanted him to put the man back anyway. No
Mike, you had better not. I do not want any trouble. You just go back
to your desk. I/ll see Mr. Harrington.

Wilson was disconcerted about having to see Mr.
Harrington, but he didnt know what else to do. He certainly did not
want the responsibility of precipitating a strike. Mr. Harrington
waved him toward a chair and asked Wilson what was on his mind.
Wilson sat down and told him the story. As soon as he heard Harrys
name Mr. Harrington frowned, then banged his desk with his fist when
Wilson started relating the details. He listened becoming more and
more infuriated and insulted not only because Harry had the audacity
to defy him, one of the Vice-Presidents, and the Corporation, but
also because he knew he would have to compromise and not break Harry
as he would like to, but would have to avoid any trouble; that
particular job had to be done according to schedule. He could not
afford a delay. But there would be a strike soon and then he would
get rid of Harry. He had hated Harry for years and had never been
able to get rid of him, but he was hopeful he could use the strike to
get rid of him. As head of the Corporations negotiating committee he
knew he could persuade the other members to continue to reject the
unions demands even if those demands became reasonable. He knew the
Corporation could let the men stay on strike for the remainder of the
year with only a slight loss in net earnings. He assumed that when
the strike was 6 months old the union would gladly settle the strike
if he gave in to most of their demands on the condition that he could
discharge Harry. It was worth a try. He had nothing to lose.