The Andre Miller Saga

Andre Miller 28 The Rest

Three days had passed since Festus the fire elemental messenger had shown up beaten near to death.

Andre, Caleb, Conroy, Tilly, Kyle, and Frankie sat around the kitchen in a production line making talisman bases, and blank ward markers for an upcoming order for the magical police department's special response teams. Wilson Hancock, a vendor for the SRT had placed a large order and it was going to take all of them working more overtime to fill it on time.

They were working full 8-hour shifts for their company Infinity Brand Ltd., 4 hours shifts after work making products, and then another 4 hours researching ways to help offset Conroy's massive negative karma issues, guaranteeing his damnation when he died. Everyone had been working nonstop for weeks and the strain was starting to show. Tempers were short, everyone had bags under their eyes far deeper than was healthy.

"Ok, who the hell is winding to the left again?" grumped Tilly. "These last three I got passed are worthless they need to be stripped down and rewrapped. To the right. Like I've said a hundred fricking times!"

"Sorry, that's on me." Said Caleb, "I'm so tired my eyes are crossing. I can't keep right from left straight."

"OK, that's it. Everyone put it down and step away. We're done for tonight and we're not working tomorrow, I'm calling an audible and giving the entire staff the day of. Including the manager. We're burnt out. We need a day to just get out from under everything. We've been burning it at both ends and the middle for weeks. No arguments. Call it a night and get some sleep. Tomorrow go and do something to unwind, sleep in, go for a walk, whatever. First thing in the morning I'll call the days clients and let them know about an inevitable delay of one day. We're not doing anyone any good. Dad's the only one getting any rest and that's because he simply can't work more than 6 to 8 hours a day at his age." Said, Andre. "Go, sleep. We'll pick it up the day after tomorrow."

Everyone grumbled a little, but no one objected directly. Andre was right, it had been weeks of stress, between work, the Infernal Houses at war, the constant presence of the celestial host, and countless other things. The group needed a break.

Andre looked at his watch, at 12:38 and he woke up at 5 the previous morning. His 60th birthday was just a couple of months away and he was already on drugs for his blood pressure. Pulling those kinds of hours was slowly going to kill him and he knew it.

He shut down the lights and went to bed, the next morning he slept in till 7 and then got on the phone calling the day's clients. Most of them were understanding, a few were grouchy, and one was downright hostile. That one he gave a stern warning to about how should he find their work or timetable faulty; they would be happy to issue a refund and they could shop elsewhere. That caused the client to become quiet, halfheartedly apologize and then hang up.

Once that was done, he made a quick and simple breakfast of eggs, English muffins, and sausage for himself and his father. Conroy was already awake and sitting in the living room reading the morning paper. "Morning boy, how did you sleep?"

"I'm good dad. I called the day off from work for everyone. We've been running ragged for a while now and need the break."

"About damn time. I was going to start a union soon and boycott the manager." He laughed.

"Oh, haha. Funny man. Here, eat your breakfast." Andre said ad he passed Conroy a plate.

Shortly after they had finished eating Frankie came down and greeted the two men. "Morning Pops, morning Andre. I'm going to head for the pool in a bit. I think some laps and a little time in the sauna will do me some good." Frankie poured himself some coffee and sat on the couch. "How about you guys? Any plans yet?"