A Dream That I Remember

A Brief History of New Portland

This post will be in italics because it's the past, if you don't get it.

A long time ago, okay no that sounds cheesy. A little while ago, this was a huge booming town. Back then it was the Sprite industry. We manufactured all Sprite products on the market. No one was better at making Sprite than we were. We were bringing in more money than we knew what to do with. The citizens lived in gleaming mansions.

There was one citizen of New Portland that was different. His name was Gabriel Frazier. Gabriel was the strongest, fastest, poorest man in town. He could do anything, but he worked in the factory. He was the best bottle packer there ever was, but he was never promoted. He earned two dollars and nineteen cents a day. Every day he came, worked his nine hour shift from eight in the morning to five at night. He got his two dollars and nineteen cents for the day and went home. Gabriel never married, and he lived alone. No one knew what he did at night, but his character.was never questioned. This was a time when racial tensions ran high, but not in New Portland. We were the only non-segregated town in the whole of Louisiana. The reason Gabriel was never promoted was because of Sprite's business policy that no man of colored skin could attain a higher position in the company.

Gabriel worked hard and the whole town admired him. He was friendly to everyone, always walked around with a smile, and never once complained about the terrible pay forced on him by the Sprite Corporation.

One day, however, a tall, lanky man came to New Portland. He was a stranger to us, and no one knew his business here. We attempted to make him feel welcome by offering up our food and our homes, but not once did he accept an offer. He didn't say much, and he spent every day at the factory from sunup to sundown. He studied everything. Every worker, every supervisor, the owner, no one was exempt from the man. Then, two weeks after he arrived, he left at approximately 3:30 AM. It was a Sunday and I had invited him over for the town's big Sunday dinner the night before. He never responded to my invitation and the next day he left leaving no trace except for the strange memories.

That following Monday at 7:55 AM, Gabriel Frazier went to work. He arrived at the factory whistling his favorite song (no one ever knew what the song was), and went to look for his time card to stamp. it wasn't there. He got down on his knees and searched all over for the card frantically. He looked in his pocket to see if he had accidentally put it there on Friday, but it was missing. Gabriel ran all the way home and turned his house upside down in a frenzy of searching for the misplaced card. After nearly two hours of scouring the house and no luck, Gabriel went back to the factory.

He had never looked dejected before. It brought a certain ominous air about the town, and everyone looked worried. Gabriel wouldn't respond when we tried to cheer him up, he just kept walking towards what was now for him the dreaded factory.

He arrived back at the factory at 1:48 PM. Not able to punch in and already missing half of his day's wages, he trudged into his manager's office. As the door rung with the clean sound of a bell, the manager turned around to see Gabriel.He immediately smiled, but when he realized that Gabriel was down, a look of concern immediately swept over his face. The manager sat upright and forced a professional expression.

"Uhh, what can I do for you, son?"

"Nothin'. I can't find my time card, sir. I was wondering if you mighta seen it?"

"No, son, I didn't come accross anything. Let me check your papers here maybe it got put there." The manager rifled through a stack of official-looking papers. As he kept flipping through the sheets, his professional expression wore away and was slowly replaced by concern. After a long while, the man set down the stack of papers. He sees Gabriel waiting, and seems to have a renewed sense of urgency. He begins frantically searching his entire desk, followed by his filing cabinets and a whole host of different drawers. The professional look was forced on again.

"Sir, did you find it?"

"Well, here's the thing. I didn't find ANY of it, son. Not one paper, not a time card, not even any identification or job application.I can't even find your resume, and I personally handle those. It's almost as though you never worked here!"

"But, sir, what does this mean for my job here? I can't get paid without a time card. Sir can you please check your master list of all the employees?"  The master list was a listing of all employees who were working or had worked at the factory, and it was posted outside the manager's office. The two men slowly walked outside to look at the master list. As Gabriel's eyes scanned the list, he locked onto his own name. 'FRAZIER, GABRIEL' the letters were marked through with a thick red pen.

"Sir, why is my name marked like it is?"

"I-I-I don't know, son. In the company, that's the symbol used when someone is fired, but-but I've never used it before! It's never been done!"

Below the long list was a note. It was sealed in an envelope by a wax seal that had a Sprite insignia on it. The manager opened the letter and started to read.

Dear M. Gordon (the manager's name),

We here at Sprite headquarters are committed to producing the highest quality beverage in the nation. We take great pride in having America's most loved soft drink. When running a large corporation, such as we do here at Sprite, it is necessary to 'check on' your branches every so often. This is to ensure that everything is being done properly, taken seriously, and that workers are being treated fairly. For the past two weeks, you may have had a newcomer to your facility. You may not know much about this person, but they are an inspector for us here at Sprite. They are personally responsible for checking every factory and branch in the nation. We appreciate your hospitality towards them.

With that being said, we hate to be the bearers of bad news. It seems as though one of your employees was receiving wages that are not  proportional to the other workers. We need to prevent this from happening in order to ensure that worker morale stays at a high level. If one worker makes too much, it may cause other workers to become envious. It seems that this is what has happened at your branch with a Mr. Gabriel Frazier. We regret to inform you that because the problem has never been addressed, Mr. Frazier will be immediately dismissed from all work for the Sprite Corporation. We hope you understand our intentions are for the best.

With regard,

Sprite Corporation

-To Be Continued-