Heavy Heart

Chapter 1

I stood in line and waited for my turn to punch in. The morning shifts were always the busiest, with the largest output of any production team. I adjusted my hair net under my company baseball cap and sighed. I wondered what was taking so long, it was just the scan of a badge and then we could get to work. I peered ahead of me but I couldn't tell what was happening.

The shift supervisor came down the line and greeted each of us one by one as he passed. I nodded to him but didn't say anything. I wasn't sure he even knew my name to be honest. We were all invisible cogs in the meat packing machine of Jersey Land Meats. I put my protective goggles on and waited for my turn to clock in. The line had started to move along finally, I was eager to get to work.

Once I scanned my badge I walked to my station. My job was monotonous; it was the same each day. Select the chicken wings, pack a dozen onto the styrofoam tray, put it on the conveyor belt which sends it down to be plastic wrapped for distribution. I stood on my anti-fatigue mat for several hours a day selecting the perfect wings for the trays. The rest of my day was spent cleaning up after each bucket of wings was gone through. In order to prevent cross-contamination we had to clean our stations down completely each time. Our attire had to be changed each time as well as our gloves. We also had to take the temperature of the meat every half hour, to ensure the proper cooling procedures were met.

I had been with Jersey Land Meats for eight years. I had gone to university right out of high school and worked very hard to get a degree in psychology. However, after I graduated I found it very difficult to find meaningful employment with just a Bachelor of Arts degree. I thought about going back for my Masters but I ran out of money. I found myself working at an all night gas station, alone and a little bit terrified.

I heard through the grape line in town that the meat packing plant was hiring entry level packers, so I applied. It wasn't hard to get on, all that was required was a grade twelve education and the ability to lift fifty pounds. That had been my life for eight years; clock in, work all day, clock out, go home, feed my cat, eat and go to sleep. My days were predictable, but there was a certain amount of comfort in it. I made decent money, I had full benefits and I was gaining a pension. Two years ago I finally had enough money saved up for the down payment on my little house on 7th Street. It wasn't fancy, but it had good bones, the furnace was new and the windows were only three years old when I bought it. I loved my house, it kept me busy.

I had started going through the tub of wings when my direct supervisor, Trevor Mattheson came up to me, "Layla, we have some overtime today. It's going to be about two hours after your shift ends, do you want it?"

I nodded, "Sure, why not." He smiled at me, "Thanks Layla, you are always willing to help out. I appreciate it." I smiled and returned to my work. I glanced at Trevor as he walked away. He was tall with sandy blonde hair and a goatee. He was happily married, but I'd always had a bit of a crush on him. Trevor was nice to me, he didn't make fun of me like some of the other guys did.

I went on with my day. After my overtime was done I clocked out and went to my locker. I changed out of my work coat and disposed of my hair net. As I left the ladies locker room there was a group of men outside in the lobby of the employee entrance. At the centre of it were my two least favorite co-workers; Brock Hansen and Zack Trulley. They had been in school with me from elementary all the way through grade twelve. We had been in the same class. My entire life, they had made fun of me because I was a bigger girl. Since we were all adults, you would think that childish behavior would be behind us; it wasn't. Brock and Zack both continued to call me the various pet names they had for me like 'the walrus' or 'the blob'. When I was a teenager it used to send me to the bathroom in tears, it would send me over the edge and cause me to want to hurt myself. Since I was older, I didn't let it get to me as much as I used to. I decided I wasn't going to let it tear me down, I was better then they were. I wasn't going to allow bullies to hurt me.

As I passed by the group of men, Brock shouted at me, "Hey Walrus, where are you going? Back to the sea?"

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. I found that not responding was the best way to deal with them. If I acknowledged their behaviour it only encouraged it. I just kept walking with my head held up high. I didn't care what they thought of me. I was a bigger girl and I wasn't going to allow their words to tear me down.

I went to the grocery store after work to pick up some dinner. I wasn't sure what I felt like, so I decided to pick up some pasta and sauce. I put a package of hamburger in my cart along with some mushrooms and green peppers. I needed cat food for Mr. Fuzz so I put a big bag at the bottom of my cart before I headed to the check-out. My best friend Jackie Newton was working. She was the head cashier at the Co-Op grocery store in our little community.

She smiled wide when she saw me; "Hey Layla, 2401 right?" I nodded.

"What's for supper tonight?" she asked me. I smiled, "Spaghetti and meat sauce with some veggies. I'm making lots so if you want you can come by after work.

Jackie shook her head, "Sorry, I work until 7pm tonight and then I have to head over to mom's house. She needs me to drain her dehumidifier in the basement. She won't go down there since she had the stroke."

I sighed, Jackie was one of the best people I knew. She took care of her widowed mother who had lost a great deal of her mobility when she had a stroke two years previous. Jackie went to her mom's place every day to make sure her mom took her medications. She made meals for her and brought them over every weekend so her mom would have lunches and suppers all week. We had been friends since high school, when Jackie and her mom had moved to our little town. Her mom and dad had gotten divorced, her mom moved from Edmonton to our community. Jackie and I became friends instantly, and we had talked to each other every single day since then, even when I was away at university.

"Do you want some help with meals this weekend?" I offered. Jackie smiled, "Yeah, that would be great. I'm going to make some pork chops and mushroom gravy, it's mom's favorite. Do you want to come over on Sunday morning? We could bake."

I nodded, "Yeah, that sounds awesome. Let's make scones! I've got homemade strawberry jam." As she scanned and bagged my groceries, Jackie said, "Sounds perfect. I can't wait. Maybe we will put in a bad chick flick." I shrugged but smiled.

I carried my bags out to my car and drove home. My orange tabby Mr. Fuzz greeted me in my front window. He was my three year old cat, he was demanding and adorable. He owned my heart and soul. I made my supper and ate it quietly. Mr. Fuzz cuddled up next to me on his chair while I ate. My life was simple and a little bit boring. I didn't mind it though, things were predictable and I knew what to expect. Little did I know that things were about to change.