They were at a stand-off with one side clearly winning. Amelia never thought she would find herself in a one-on-one confrontation with the factory foreman.
"Girl, are you deaf?" the foreman demanded.
"N-n-no, sir," Amelia's voice wavered with her response.
"Do you have some special authority at this factory of which I am made unaware?" the foreman queried.
"No, sir," Amelia said, a little more confidently.
"Then what gives you the impression that you can come to your shift in a silly costume, and then incite the other women to do the same?" he asked with a rhetorical air.
"I just thought..." but the foreman's response cut Amelia off.
"You thought nothing. I do not pay you to think. I pay you to work. You do not pay them. I do, which means you have no authority to suggest that they wear the same, silly costume as you and your shadow," he explained.
"My shadow?" Amelia asked.
"I'm speaking of that loquacious girl who brought you here. Which reminds me, I did not see her with the other women at the start of this shift. If you see your shadow you can tell her not to bother coming back. As for you, I have half the mind of telling you the same thing. That is, one more slip-up and you're out on the streets like your shadow. Now, get back to work," he glowered as he turned his back and walked away.
The foreman was the epitome of intimidating. It was obvious he grew-up well-to-do, as his vocabulary, his attire, and his ranking at the factory made quite apparent. He was afforded every privilege a man of his roots could have. He gave Amelia the impression that he was annoyed having to take time out of his day to reprimand her. Here he was, just another man of advantageous upbringing asserting his dominance over another impoverished woman. This thought lit up Amelia.
"Who do you think you are?" Amelia yelled back.
The foreman stepped dead in his tracks, turned around, and made his way back to where Amelia stood.
"Who do I think I am?" he chuckled. "I am the man that can make or break you. I am the man that can cast you to the streets without a second thought. I am the man that can take away everything and everyone you love. Most importantly, I am the man who will make your life a living inferno if you ever dare speak to me in that fashion again. I am Conrad Hennings, and it is in your best interest to never, ever forget that, you fool of a woman," he hissed back. He turned back towards the factory, leaving Amelia completely dumbstruck.
Conrad Hennings. Amelia was sure never to forget that name, as instructed, but not out of fear. The spark inside of her was flaring stronger and stronger with each passing day. Foreman Hennings didn't know it yet, but he'd made her list. Amelia was not going to forget this interaction so easily.
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At the end of the shift all of the women made their way outside to start the trek back to their homes. A loud whistle blew across the crowd over the roaring of the factory stopping the women from continuing on.
"Listen up real good: anyone caught wearing masks or spectacles, when spectacles are not needed, will be thrown out of the factory and barred from returning to work, so says the boss," a hefty man dressed in black yelled out over the crowd.
The women immediately started an uproar, demanding to know what prompted the announcement, but the hefty man disappeared back into the factory.
"But why? I haven't coughed up half a lung today because of this mask," one woman cried out. "Me eyes isn't so full o' soot like before," another woman in a thick accent proclaimed.
YOU ARE READING
Combustion (Book 1: The Spark)
Adventure"Would it all be worth it if she 'saves the world?'" What would you do if you woke-up one day in an unfamiliar world? What if you kept stumbling - Would you pick yourself back up? Having already lived a childhood bouncing from home to home in Brookl...
