Free Henry Wood Perception by Brian D. Meeks Page A

sweaty work rushed up and hit Lawrence in the face.
    One could have put three football fields inside the building. They walked past fifty or sixty people, some who looked up and others who didn’t have time. An old black man came through the door as they exited. He held it and said, “Morning, Frank.”
    Frank said, “Morning, Frank.”
    They walked a bit further and Lawrence asked, “His name is Frank, too?”
    “His name is John Frank.”
    “Oh, what does he do?”
    “He is one of our top mechanics. Worked on Spitfires during the war; can fix anything.”
    “Neat.”
    Frank shrugged his shoulders and crossed over to another building marked B. It was different than the first one, had long production lines, smelled awful, and the walls were black with soot. The building was twice the size of the first.
    “We have six teams here, which I keep my eyes on. What are you good at?”
    “I used to work with my uncle. He was a plumber until he hurt his back.”
    “We make pipes in this building, all sorts of lengths and sizes. I need help in a couple of areas. How about you work for a day on each and let me know which one you like?”
    “Sounds good, boss.”
    Frank introduced Lawrence to a couple of guys. Frank gave a brief description of how the machine worked and then said they could explain it better. He left Lawrence to start work.
    The guys showed him where he could put his sports coat. One of them gave him some coveralls so that he wouldn’t ruin his pants. Lawrence hadn’t known he was going to start but was ready. He learned how to make six inch pipes.
    ***
    Amy set the files on her desk and hung up her coat. The sound of her new boss, Mr. Kerwin, on the phone made her a little sad. Daniel Kupton had such a lovely voice. Mr. Kerwin, who had served as the Executive Vice President for the last five years, was tall, late fifties, gruff, and driven. He preferred giving orders to explaining how something should be done.
    “Get it done now,” yelled Kerwin, and he slammed down the phone.
    With a knock she said, “Mr. Kerwin, I have the files from the plant.”
    “Yes, do bring them in and be quick about it.”
    Amy set the files on his desk.
    “Get me our supplier at Bethlehem Steel on the phone. What is his name?”
    “His card is in the Rolodex.” Amy went back to her desk and dialed the number. She knew the name but preferred not to be helpful when he barked at her. After Amy put the call through, the yelling began again. She wished the office had thicker walls.
    Two accountants, carrying thick ledgers, came in. She told them to sit. They looked frightened.
    Amy took out a fresh sheet of company stationary and rolled it into the typewriter. There were three additional secretaries in the outer office who handled most of the correspondence, but she took care of all of Mr. Kerwin’s personal letters. One of the accountants was watching her closely, trying to catch her eye. She was used to it and ignored him.
    She began typing, not looking up from the legal pad. The sound of the key strikes took some of the edge off the loud conversation seeping through the walls. Amy got into a rhythm, and each ding of the bell and subsequent carriage return created a little tune. She noticed the other accountant, who was not checking her out, was tapping to the rhythm of her letter writing.
    When Mr. Kerwin had finished arguing with the man from Bethlehem Steel, he hung up the phone. Amy announced the two accountants. They went back and, after a few minutes, more yelling ensued.
    The phone rang and Amy answered, “Hello, Kupton Manufacturing, the office of Mr. Kup…er Mr. Kerwin.”
    “Amy, it's Henry. I'm going to have to postpone lunch until tomorrow. Is that okay?”
    “Sure, I’ll see you then.”
    "Great, thanks. I'll see you then."
    Amy hung up.
    A messenger came through the door and said, “This is Mr. Kerwin’s office, no?”
    “Yes. He is in a meeting.”
    The messenger sat down and said, “I'm to give it to