"Listen up, you chumps. I'm only saying this once, so shut your mugs and pay attention." Aidan Sullivan, president of the Mac-Griffin Leather Factory Union, slammed his meaty fists on the rickety stump of wood we called a podium. The union, which consisted of nearly fifty concerned workers, fell silent as the man began to speak.
"Mac-Griffin has cheated us."
"Aye!" Fists pumped enthusiastically.
"Keep your shirts on," Aidan snapped. "You want me to finish or not? Anyway, Mac-Griffin is a greedy louse stealing our hard earned pay. Today you all heard his 'announcement.' I have the whole damn thing in writing here." He held up a slip of paper. "'Due to circumstances beyond my control, such as the drop in the sales of leather and the loss of several clients, measures must be taken to ensure our good factory will survive. It is my regret to tell you that all wages must be cut, and all men above the age of fifty-five must be let go unless stated otherwise.'"
Furious cries electrified the Togalach. Men cursed the name of Mac-Griffin. Signs reading "What About Our Rights?" or "Let Me Feed My Family" bobbed like corks on a sea of workers. In the back corner a banner screamed, "Men of Color Need Good Jobs Too!"
"I ain't done yet!" Aidan added harshly. "Let's not forget the two wage cuts before this one, along with the dangers we've faced on a daily basis! Every single day, for fifteen hours, I risk getting my hand getting a hole punched through it! The kids at the sewing machines get their hands caught, crippling them. I'm not even gonna mention the pressing machines, the tanning, the furnaces, the vermin, the long hours, the flying sparks..."
The fellows went wild. A hundred feet pounded the floor so vehemently I thought the floor would be broken and we'd fall down a level. My heart rattled within my ribs. The insides of my ears throbbed from all the noise, but I was glad of it. Proud these men were changing the world. I pictured myself surprising Mattie with a suitable salary, enough to buy her whatever her heart desired. My children could purchase ice cream on a muggy day. Less baggage under me eyes. The simple idea eased the aching in my back.
"Mac-Griffin has cheated us! Robbed us!" Aidan's olive eyes burned, living up to his name, which means "fiery" in my native tongue. "He demands more of us, like donkeys pulling his carriage. He thinks only of his fat pocketbook. We've families- wives, children, old parents- that need feeding. I haven't bought my wife a present in over a year. Do you really believe any of us can afford a third wage cut?"
"NO! Down with Mac-Griffin!"
"Here's what I have to say to that bully," our president bellowed. "I WILL NOT WORK FOR A MAN WHO WILL NOT REWARD ME WITH THE FAIR PAYMENT! I WILL NOT WORK FOR A MAN WHO TREATS ME LIKE A SLAVE! AND I WOULD SOONER PICKET OUTSIDE HIS OFFICE THAN BREAK MY BACK TO EARN A COUPLE OF PENNIES! WHO'S WITH ME?"
The crowd roared brilliantly. "NOT SLAVES, NOT SLAVES, NOT SLAVES!"
"Try actually being a slave!" a man hollered from the back corner. "I'm not going back to that!"
"We need to tell Mac-Griffin what we thinks of him!" DeLuca leaped up onto the makeshift stage eagerly. "I say we write a letter- a nicely worded letter, mind you- telling him we ain't taking this treatment any longer."
"Say he don't respond?" Arnold White, the Doubter, cocked his head.
"He'll have a mailbox flooded with letters and more if he ignores us."
"Bah! I say we put an end to him for good," Jonas Pokiser, a wanton drunkard, hissed maliciously. "God's got a special reservation for him."
"We can't do that!" another cried. "Just tell the cops."
"Are you insane? The cops don't give a shit about us."
"Burn the factory."
"We want better jobs, not no jobs."
"Enough!" Aidan hammered the podium. "It is now time for a speech from our treasurer, Mr. Gerald Kelly. Let's have a hand." Mild applause followed, DeLuca inserting an out-of-place whoop. Wiping my sweaty palms on my trousers, I replaced Aidan as the center of attention.
"Good evening gents," I began, forcing my shaky voice to be steady. Be calm, they're looking up to you. "We're all here for a similar cause. Mac-Griffin wrecked our livelihoods, our way of supporting our folks. There's a bazillion reasons we felt the need to gather at the Togalach. We're tired." Murmurs of assent rippled through the room. I inhaled heartily, somewhat reassured.
"Aidan listed all the issues we got with stinking Mac-Griffin. But what we need is a solution. A way to make him listen while keeping food on the table. Something nobody will forget. Something that'll set a spark, start a fire that will change everything about New York and the way things are run. Gentlemen, as respectable employees of the leather business, I propose-" clearing my throat "-a, a..." My words caught in my throat. Can I really do this? Am I ready to shoulder such a burden? Men's lives at stake here, Gerald. I started something. I had to complete it.
"What be it Kelly?" The guys clamored closer as if I were offering them a delicacy. Well, my suggestion certainly proved food for thought. Mattie, please don't kill me.
"A strike." I uttered it more loudly than I realized. "A strike."
Silence. Astonished, dumbfounded, frightened. I bored into their eyes, anticipating a reaction. Nothing. Aidan glowered at me from the side, eyeing the speech he'd composed for me. In my nervousness I'd crumpled it into a ball. Guilt stabbed my side; I betrayed his trust. I now planted the seeds for a possibly violent rebellion against the company my comrades' lives, including my own, depended on. What have I done?
A raspy cough. An inaudible whisper. Then the shouting exploded.