I suppose it should not surprise you that I'm in this situation; no friends and no family. Just me, myself, and I stuck in this rather uncomfortable situation. Of course, ignoring the pain throbbing gently through my fingers, and the daily beatings from the supervisors, all for an assortment of reasons, is just the icing on the cake. Suddenly, a shriek cut through the air. I flinched but my fingers didn't miss a beat. Like the sulfur infusing the air and the steady creaking of the many looms I had gotten used to screams. Not that I had any choice in the matter. It was either get used to it or get beaten up as daily reminders of the cost of that pity.
"Stop your work everyone!" Mr. Sui shouted. He dragged his victim from his workstation into the center of the factory. "Yin here thought that we weren't watching him and decided to halt his work. He will serve as a reminder to you all why you should not disobey or displease your superiors. Hopefully you'll make wiser choices than he did."
"Please, Stop." Evan whimpered. He was one of the newest members of this work force. When he first got here he was confident, protective, and loyal. He stood up for many of our colleagues when the supervisors threatened them with beatings for working too slow. This soon changed due to the frequency of the beatings. "I didn't mean to stop," his pitiful moans brought a surge of pity into my heart, 'poor kind-hearted Evan,' I sympathized. However, his pleading and begging would have made no difference in the outcome. If anything, it would serve to make the supervisors want to beat him up even more.
"You should've thought of that before you let your fingers lay idle away from the loom." The head supervisor snapped. Mr. Sui had always been the most controlling person the Chan Industries factory workforce has ever worked under. "What do you say gentlemen? Does twenty strokes sound like a worthy price to pay for stopping work assigned to him by his superiors?" The hooting and hollering from Mr. Sui's fellow supervisors was apparently enough of an answer for him. He grabbed Yin by the ear and dragged him to the whipping chamber.
"Come along, boy, you knew this is what would happen to you if you slowed down your pace, so face your punishment like a man!" And with those words, Mr. Sui brought out a whip thrice the length of his forearm. I turned away and restarted my work. I couldn't bear to watch, as the kindness and loyalty Evan had shown us for weeks would only be repaid by beatings and disloyalty in return. The screams echoed through the room. But thankfully the heart-wrenching sounds only continued for a few agonizing minutes. But slowly they began to die down. I quickly glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, fingers still leaping across the loom. Yin was beaten, bruised, and bloodied. He was curled up into a fetal position, and guessing at what Mr. Sui probably did to him, I couldn't blame him. Mr. Sui, however, merely looked disgustedly in his direction and kicked an unconscious Evan out of his way. He then turned to us.
"No one is to give this boy any provisions." Mr. Sui then twisted around to face the other supervisors. "Same goes for you men as well." He points a finger at Evan. "If anyone is caught smuggling provisions to Evan, then they must not understand the severity of the consequences of their disloyalty and will share Evan's punishment. So if anyone wants to risk it," Mr. Sui shrugs as if to indicate that he doesn't care one way or another. He is about to walk out the factory doors and into his office when he noticed another man standing in the doorway appearing to be furious. I didn't recognize him but apparently Mr. Sui did. Mr. Sui grew pale and began to shake in fear. The unknown man stepped in, calmly, but with intention in every step. When the man reached Mr. Sui he stopped and stared at him. No one dared to move a muscle.
"Mr. McIntrye," Mr. Sui's voice trembled, never have I ever seen him appear so frightened of a single man in all the years that I've worked here. "We weren't expecting you until tomorrow."
"Yes, luckily for this boy that I chose to come a day early." Mr. McIntrye replied smoothly. I gasped, Mr. McIntrye. He was the owner of this factory, this company, and by default us! I had heard so many stories about him, his kindness toward his employees. I'd never even considered it was possible for me to meet him. "So tell me, Mr. Sui, what is the meaning of this?"
"Well sir, he... I... he stopped working..." Mr. Sui stuttered so badly that it was impossible to imagine him as the intimidating man he was just a few mere moments ago.
"You were torturing that poor boy, Shang, and probably for some minor detail." Mr. McIntrye glared at Shang Sui with a deadly gleam in his eyes. "Shang, if I ever see anything like this again then you will be fired and out on the streets faster than you can apologize." Mr. McIntrye swiveled around to face the other supervisors. "That goes for the rest of you too, treat these workers nicely, they are your peers, not your servants; you could be standing in their places, if not for your luck." And with those words, reeking of power in every syllable, branded into the minds of everyone in the room Mr. McIntrye gracefully glided out of the room to take Yin to the medical wing.
Once Mr. McIntrye left, Shang whirred onto the workers and glowered at them. "Well? What are you lazy good-for-nothing workers looking at? Get back to work." But one of the more pleasant supervisors protested.
"But Mr. McIntrye said..."Shang narrowed his eyes at the supervisor who immediately shut up.
"Mr. McIntrye isn't here, now is he? He will never know." His eyes then immediately widened, and he spun around to face the workers. "None of you are allowed to tell him of what happens here or that person will very quickly find themselves unemployed with no recommendation. Is that clear?" We all rapidly nodded our heads in sync, none of us willing to incur his wrath. "Good, so get back to work!" With that he walked back to his office and slammed the door.
Several weeks passed, nothing changed. Mr. McIntrye visited the factory alone about twice a week. He never saw anything and we were strictly forbidden from initiating conversation with him and if he were ever to question the happenings in the factory we were to deny everything. He always left satisfied thinking that his wishes were being followed. But Mr. McIntrye always came alone. This time, however, he brought another person along with him. The person he brought was a young man around my age. His dirt brown hair glistened with sweat, his face was coated in a layer of dirt, and judging by the smell wafting from his direction, he hadn't changed his clothing in at least two weeks but everything else about him reeked of high class and arrogance. I found myself wondering why he was here.
"May I have your attention please?" Mr. McIntrye cleared his throat. Everyone automatically stopped what they were doing and listened. Mr. McIntrye had the type of presence where one just couldn't help but listen and hang onto his every word, that and the fact that Mr. McIntrye legally owned them. Mr. McIntrye cleared his throat again. "Anyway, I brought you a new worker, his name is Ian Kabra. Make him feel welcome, Amy." I straightened at the sound of my name. "Amy, could you please show Ian how to use the looms since he is new here." I nodded showing my agreement. "Good, well carry on." And with those words he swiftly left the room leaving Ian behind. Ian confidently strides towards me; already I could see an air of confidence surrounding him. 'Just like Evan', I thought. I shook my head; 'no forget him; if you keep reminding yourself of him then you'll drown in guilt.' One of my co-workers leaned towards me.
"You're so lucky," Sinead smirks at me, "You get the amazing privilege of teaching the amazingly handsome Ian Kabra." Sarcasm and mock jealousy was very evident in her voice.
I rolled my eyes at her childishness. "Oh yeah? Well why don't you teach him? I'll just lay back and do my own work."
"Nice try, Amy, but Mr. McIntrye asked for you specifically so you can't get out of it." Sinead replies cheekily but quickly turns serious. "But, honestly, you don't think he is even the least bit attractive?"
"Excuse me," Ian interrupts before I could even begin to respond, "You must be Emily," I snort, 'Very clever of you, it must be so hard to remember three letters.'
"Actually it's…" I decide against telling him his mistake, he would probably forget again anyway. "Never mind," I force myself to sound polite. "Would you like me to show you how to work the loom?"
"I'll be fine," He waves away my help gracelessly, "I used the loom all the time at home." I shrugged, 'Suit himself, it's his choice.'
"Alright," I responded skeptically, "just remember, if you need help, don't be afraid to ask." With that I turn my back on Ian and return my attention back to my own work. After a while, I, out of pure curiosity, catch a glimpse of him just within my range of eyesight. He is still staring at the loom and he hasn't touched a single thread. I rolled my eyes, I should've figured his response was just a boast, he probably had no idea. Eventually, Shang noticed the lack of progress made by Ian.
"Ian, What do you think you're doing?" Shang growled. Ian just shrugged indifferently. "Well get back to work or I'm reporting you for laziness." Shang turned away automatically assuming that Ian would comply with his orders. As soon as Shang's gaze moved from him, Ian's look of indifference melted away into sheer panic. He turned to me desperately.
"Emily, you have to help me," He pleaded; his eyes were growing wider in his desperation. I sighed; one less worker meant more work for the rest of us so I might as well relieve myself and my colleagues of some of our burden.
"Fine," I sighed, this was going to take a while. So I walked him through how to use the loom. Once I saw his loom I was surprised that a warning was all that Mr. Sui had given him. "You haven't even set up the loom at all!" I exclaimed as I was staring at the empty loom, though I honestly wasn't really surprised.
Ian chuckled nervously. He anxiously glanced from me to the door of Mr. Sui's office. "It's been a long time since I've used a loom? And I may have forgotten how to use one?" He tried to explain but his weak excuses were clearly half-hearted and his responses sounded more like questions than testimonies of his innocence.
I rolled my eyes, 'Typical,' I grumbled to myself. 'Newcomers are always too proud to ask for help, so it's always the senior workers that have to pick up their slack.' I looked through the basket beside him, picked up the thread he was supposed to use, and showed him how to set up the loom.
"First of all you need to feed the thread through the slits and holes of the heddle as you wind it around the frame. To tie the thread that will be your base you start with the loose end of yarn feed it through the heddle around the top frame." I point to the wooden beams on my loom to show him what they are. "Continue with that thread and bring it in through the next slit around the bottom frame then repeat with the next hole. Continue alternating holes along the heddle to the end wrapping from front to back on the top frame and from back to front on the bottom frame as you go along. When your done tie both ends of the yarn securely to the frame, the yarn should be very tight and you should be able to move the heddle up and down and still have enough room to pass the shuttle through easily."
I show him what his loom should look like and motion for him to show me what he thinks he should do on his. As he attempts to mimic my demonstration Shi grows increasingly frustrated with his inability to set up properly. I gently correct him before his loom becomes entangled with threads. Next, as we finally finish setting up his loom, I begin showing him how to use the spindle and all of its properties.
"Just wind the yarn onto the shuttle." Here I show him, twirling red thread onto my shuttle so I am able to work as I teach. "Try not to wind too much on since the shuttle needs to be able to pass through the shed." Shi nodded to show he understood then reached for a spool of bright green thread to spin onto his shuttle. I stopped him. "No, Shi, don't use that thread." I warned him.
"Why not?" He challenged. "It's not like there's some tyrannical dictator that chooses what colors we can or cannot use right Emily?" There is a smirk on his face, but as my expression remains sober and unmoved, it quickly fades as he realizes that Mr. Sui practically was a dictator. He coughs to cover up his embarrassment and gestures for me to continue. So I continue to teach him and this time he doesn't interrupt.
As I teach, he grows more and more confident in his ability to weave. And once I was well assured that he was able to weave on his own without mishap, he began to tell me about his life before the factory. Apparently he was Mr. McIntrye's nephew. He had once belonged to a wealthy family and was once heir to a large fortune. But when the taxes and prices on food staples rose, they could no longer afford to feed themselves. Just one week before coming to the factory, he explained, his parents had taken ill of some foreign disease and died. A flash fever of some sort the doctor told him.
"'There's nothing I could've done, young master Kabra,'" Ian attempts to mimic the voice of the physician in a high pitched mocking voice. "'I'm sorry but you just have to learn to let go of your losses.'" My heart went out to him. 'Poor Ian' I thought, 'To have lost his family only a few weeks ago and be forced into this kind of situation.' But before I could get too caught up in my sympathy, Ian continued.
"At this point, Emily, I had nowhere to go. All that I had was a suitcase of old clothes and a picture of my family. In fact, I'm pretty sure that if Mr. McIntrye hadn't taken me under his wing, I would be left on the streets begging for food."
Mr. McIntrye, being the only relative left to take care of Ian, took him in and decided to let the boy work in 'the safest factory I know.'
At this point in the story, Ian cried out. I was confused, 'Was the cry part of the story?' I wondered. But then I looked down and saw blood dripping from a cut diagonally across the palm of his hand. The blood was creating a beautiful splotchy pattern on the loom, no doubt permanently staining the wood with the liquid. He had most likely forgotten about the loom and accidentally cut himself. Shang soon noticed the injury and quickly made his way over to us.
"What is this?" He demanded, "An accident from your own carelessness will not be tolerated. You will continue to work or you'll receive ten strokes for your disobedience." Shang turned to walk back to his position.
"But I can't," Ian quietly whimpered. Apparently he didn't say it softly enough because Shang immediately grabbed Ian by his collar and threw him across the room into the center of the floor. Time slowed down for me as I realized what was going to happen; it was the exact same thing that had happened to Evan. Evan had died a slow and painful death within two days of the shameful beating. My heart hammered in my chest. I'm just as helpless now as I was then. What could I do? As Shang raised the whip above his head I heard a scream. I didn't recognize it immediately. Later I discovered the scream had come from me.
"NOOOOO! Stop!" I screeched. I pushed myself up and away from my loom to look at Shang. Everyone was frozen in shock, as if they couldn't believe that little, shy, Amy had the courage to stand up for someone.
"What did you say?" Shang whispered. I flinched, I was expecting a scream but somehow a whisper was much more terrifying.
"I believe that this young lady here was trying to prevent you from beating my nephew. A beating that she should never had the chance to witness, much less stop." And there was Mr. McIntrye leaning in the doorway watching the proceedings with eyes as stiff and unrelenting as a stone wall.
"M...M...Mr. Mc..Mc...McIntrye!" Shang stuttered. He looked like he had just seen a ghost. "I was just..."
"Enough of your excuses Shang!" Mr. McIntrye hollered. "I want your stuff out of that office and you gone by the end of the day or I will report you to the police."
"Yes Sir. Thank you sir." Shang quickly saluted Mr. McIntrye then sprinted out of the factory. Mr. McIntrye helped Ian back onto his feet, rapidly checking him for injuries as he went. Seemingly satisfied with the lack of damage done to Ian, Mr. Chan finally acknowledged my presence directly. He quickly looked me over just as effectively assessing my appearance.
"Amy, thank you for sparing my nephew from that beating." Mr. McIntrye smiled at me then gently nudged Ian, who appeared confused. Now Mr. McIntrye's smile became slightly strained. "Ian, aren't you going to thank your friend for saving your hide?" Realization dawned in Ian's expression as his eyes grew round and his mouth formed a perfect 'o.'
"Yes, err. Thank you Emily." Mr. McIntrye's smile was quickly replaced by a frown as he whispered into his nephew's ear. Ian's face turned red with embarrassment as he noticed his mistake. "Sorry. Amy."
"Yes, thank you. Oh and I almost forgot, call me William. After saving my nephew, there should be no more formality between us." Mr. McIntrye beamed at me. I gaped at him. Never in my life have I ever expected to be on first name basis with William. Without leaving me anytime to drown in my astonishment Mr. McIntrye quickly asked, "Now when can I expect you over for the celebration dinner?" I was very confused.
"What celebration dinner?" I asked. I wasn't the only one; Shi had a bewildered frown on his face.
"The dinner held in your honor to celebrate your promotion." Mr. Mc-William laughed as if he was sharing a private joke. A promotion? What had I done to deserve that? The confusion must have been very prominent on my face because William soon explained.
"You're being promoted because we are currently short one head supervisor and the way you reacted to Shang's behavior today showed me that you are probably the best person for the job." With that he promptly left me and Ian looking after him with expressions of astonishment. We looked at each other shrugged at each other as if Mr. McIntrye's behavior was a common occurrence and went back to what we should have been doing. Ian moved to the medical wing while I forced my fingers to fly across the loom as if nothing had happened. Although, if one looked closely, a smile of pure, unbridled joy could be spotted on my face, an expression that was sure to stay there for a long time.
Author's Note: This is my first Fanfiction so I hope you like it. I'm still debating whether or not to turn this into a longer story with around twenty chapters. Please review, constructive comments are much appreciated. Also: tell me in your reviews if you want to keep this a one-shot or if you want me to continue this.
Keep positive and pretend haters are inanimate objects,
Sincerely,
Heartfelt Writer
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