By four o'clock, the confidence she held at two was long gone, replaced with a steady ache in her arms. She discovered the shovel was only good for scooping up the tiny pieces after the larger ones were removed. The men ignored her for the most part, concentrating on their work and running downstairs the instant break was announced. Crystal spent her break alone, leaning against the window frame and looking down at the street below. That's twenty bucks so far, she mentally calculated. Two more hours and I'll earn back what I spent on boots. She took a last drag on the cigarette and threw it out the window. She turned and looked at piles of busted up sheetrock looming at her. Well isn't going to move itself.
By five minute before six o'clock, Crystal figured out an easier way to move the sheetrock, using the shovel to push the pieces down the hall, then it was a simple matter of scooping the pieces up and throwing them out the window. It made the work go faster even if her back was screaming from the strain. "Miss Sheridan." Crystal turned to see Josh and Michael standing there. "You certainly did your share today," the supervisor said. Michael nodded in agreement.
"You did indeed. I can't begin to tell you the number of men who've walked off after an hour."
"That's because no one has a work ethic these days," Josh added. He looked at Crystal. "To be honest, lady, I didn't think you'd last the afternoon." Well fuck you, I did. And I'll do it tomorrow too. "What time do we start tomorrow?"
"Remember I said I open the gate at seven and close it at six. Whatever shift you can get yourself in here for is fine. Just be responsible. Nothing irritates me more than someone just not showing up."
"I'll be here," Crystal assured him.
"You show up at that hour and I'll buy you your first cup of coffee," Michael offered. "Now go get punched out and have a good night. Say hello to Laura for me."
The Omni turned onto Essex Street, Crystal instinctively reaching around and locking her doors in the process. A dead end street leading to one of the oldest trailer parks in the county, Essex was a haven for people wanting to operate outside the law. It was common to see the skeletons of stolen cars littering the empty corner lot and children without shoes playing in the street. Crystal avoided eye contact with the people sitting on porches or leaning against cars as she guided the hatchback into the park. She spotted the white and yellow trailer immediately and parked in front of it, the driveway taken up by a old red pickup truck. Heavy metal music blared from behind closed windows. I guess you're the same asshole as ever, eh Tom?
"Hey Crystal, glad you could make it," Stephanie said as she opened the door. "Oh good, you did remember to stop and get some beer. Come on in, Tom's just rolling up one."
"Great, I could use it after the day I had." Stepping inside, the smell of stale cigarette and marijuana smoke assaulted her senses. Damn Steph, open a fucking window, will ya? At least turn on a fan. A green couch lined one wall while the television and a recliner took up the adjoining one. Tom was seated in the recliner, the television tray next to it covered with rolling papers and empty beer cans. The arm of the chair held the overflowing ashtray.
"Hey Crystal, how the hell are ya?" he asked. "Just about to light one up. Have a seat."
"Hi Tom."
"I'll put these in the fridge," Stephanie said, taking the twelve pack from Crystal.
"Make sure you leave one of those for me first," her husband demanded.
Crystal sat down on the couch and pulled her cigarettes out of her pocket. "I'll take one too."
"Why bother putting them in the fridge then?" the redhead said, sitting down next to her on the couch and opening the cardboard package. "Tom, stop fucking around and light that thing."
"I'm lighting it, I'm lighting it. Jeez, don't be a bitch just because your friend is here. You're really gonna like this shit, Crystal. One hit wonder for sure. I had a joint by myself this morning and it knocked me on my ass for hours."
"That's why I had to go get the beer earlier. He woke up before I did and wouldn't let me have any until I got him the beer." "That's the only way I can get you to do anything," Tom said.
Oh fuck, don't start already, Crystal groaned inwardly. That's right, take a hit and stop thinking about being an asshole. She took the joint eagerly from him and brought it to her lips. Oh yeah, this is tasty stuff. "Damn, where do you guys get such good shit?"
"My cousin has a farm about three hours north of here. He grows it in his barn," Tom said proudly. "Man, he always has the best fucking stuff going. Hardly any seeds and just look at all the red hairs in here." He held out a sandwich bag half filled with dried out buds. "Fucking beautiful stuff. Not like that shit Smoky sells."
Crystal took another hit before passing the joint to Stephanie. "Oh yeah, this is very nice."
"So what's with the shit kickers?" the redhead asked, pointing at Crystal's boots.
"Oh, I got a job clearing out the old credit union building on Exchange."
"You mean where they had the fire?"
"Stop talking and take your fucking hit," Tom growled, leaning forward in his seat to reach for the joint.
"Yeah," Crystal said, answering Stephanie's question. Stop being such a dork, Tom. "Pay's pretty good. Ten an hour and the hours are flexible." "You hear that?" the redhead addressed her husband. "Ten bucks an hour. Are they hiring?"
"I think so. I was just hired today." Crystal reached out to take the joint from Tom, who insisted on getting at least three hits in before passing it. "I don't work for less than twelve," he said, reaching for his beer. "So how come you ain't working down at the Tom Cat anymore?" "I'm just doing this temporarily while my lip heals. I got hurt in a bar fight last week."
"Oh." Tom took a several gulps from the can. "Gonna say, with an ass like yours you're better off making some money with it than doing work some fat bitch can do." He reached out to take the joint from Stephanie. "Not like this cow can get paid to take off her clothes."
"Fuck you," the redhead said. "Keep it up and you can sleep at your fucking mother's house tonight."
"At least her house isn't a fucking pigsty like this place," he said, passing the joint to Crystal. "She doesn't work all day. You think she'd be able to run the fucking vacuum once in a while."
Oh man, please don't fight tonight, Crystal silently pleaded. I just want to catch a good buzz and get going.
"Like you head off each morning to work, right?"
"Oh fuck you, Steph." He grabbed the baggie and his cigarettes off the tray and stood up. "I don't have to sit and listen to this shit." "Fine, go to Mark's or something. I don't give a shit."
"Fine."
"Just leave me some pot, will ya?"
"Go to hell. Get your own." He stormed out the door, not bothering to close it.
"Where's he going?" Crystal asked, taking advantage of the commotion to take an extra couple of hits on the joint. "Hey, you got any clips?"
"On the shelf behind you," Stephanie answered. "Screw him. I knew he wouldn't leave me any." She walked into the bathroom and returned with a canister of hair spray. Crystal found a set of forceps, the tips sticky with built up resin, and clipped thee.g.of the joint.
"Here you go. There isn't much left."
"Don't worry about it, Crys." Stephanie took the seat vacated by Tom and took the offered roach clip. "Thanks." She inhaled sharply, making the tip of the joint blaze orange. Handing it back, she exhaled slowly to avoid choking. "Oh that's good. Here." The redhead held the hair spray canister in both hands and gave it a twist. The bottom unscrewed to reveal a small metal pipe, rolling papers, lighter and a black film canister. "Tom doesn't know about this. Whenever he's got a new batch, after he falls asleep I come out and pinch a few buds for myself. He thinks he's punishing me, the stupid asshole." She opened the film case and dumped the hidden stash of marijuana out onto the tray. "You feel like switching to the pipe? I hate fucking around with papers."