Spring Break
The Laborer
Fiction: Part 2 of 3
Andrew J. Wylie (NI), Associate Editor
Issue date: 2/9/09 Section: Features
The following article is the second in a series of three. It is an excerpt from a novel the author is writing. The book tells the story of a handful of people that are swept along as a small country undergoes change seeking rebirth and prominence on the world stage. The darker aspects of such aspirations are explored: violence as the nation frees itself from the shackles of its past, displacement of countless laborers from poorer countries seeking opportunity in a hostile land and illegal trafficking in persons. All rights to publication, distribution and reproduction in any form belong to the author. "I cannot get home.
There is no way."
"We will help you."
Word travels across continents and oceans. News of death in families cannot be hidden no matter the distance. He knew already in his heart. The confirmation of his father's passing was a mere formality.
No break for the men. Neither weekend nor catastrophe provides rest. The holy days peppered throughout the year are the sole respite; through no sense of compassion to the laborers do the sponsors yield the day.
And the work goes on. 0430 the bus arrives. Sometimes it is early; it leaves as soon as it is full. The men best not be late because missing one day of work is justification for deportment. So they go early to their pick up spot, but the bus is usually late.
They have no jackets and huddle against each other to fend off the morning frost. Their blue denim jumpers billow with each gust of wind. The rails inside that serve for limbs rattle and knees knock. No one complains. You can get warm in the cold. You cannot get cold in the heat.
The men pile into the van for the hour long ride to the work site. For the privilege of the ride it is compulsory that they pay the driver, just as they have to pay for their jumper and their lodging and all other services provided by their sponsor. Work begins promptly upon arrival.
They mix concrete and gather rebar. The sun is fully risen by 0800 and the cold is forgotten. The heat announces its presence initially with a sense of mild discomfort where rays alight on exposed skin. Other parts wait. Within an hour sweat covers the entire body.
There is no way."
"We will help you."
Word travels across continents and oceans. News of death in families cannot be hidden no matter the distance. He knew already in his heart. The confirmation of his father's passing was a mere formality.
No break for the men. Neither weekend nor catastrophe provides rest. The holy days peppered throughout the year are the sole respite; through no sense of compassion to the laborers do the sponsors yield the day.
And the work goes on. 0430 the bus arrives. Sometimes it is early; it leaves as soon as it is full. The men best not be late because missing one day of work is justification for deportment. So they go early to their pick up spot, but the bus is usually late.
They have no jackets and huddle against each other to fend off the morning frost. Their blue denim jumpers billow with each gust of wind. The rails inside that serve for limbs rattle and knees knock. No one complains. You can get warm in the cold. You cannot get cold in the heat.
The men pile into the van for the hour long ride to the work site. For the privilege of the ride it is compulsory that they pay the driver, just as they have to pay for their jumper and their lodging and all other services provided by their sponsor. Work begins promptly upon arrival.
They mix concrete and gather rebar. The sun is fully risen by 0800 and the cold is forgotten. The heat announces its presence initially with a sense of mild discomfort where rays alight on exposed skin. Other parts wait. Within an hour sweat covers the entire body.
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