Thomas and the Factory

8/4/2019 Thomas and the Factory

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Thomas and the Factory

By Marlon Sean Hollis

Chapter One

No one had to tell Thomas that times were tough as he stood there watching

his parents car drive away. His life changed forever that gray morning, for the

better or for the worse he didnt yetknow at that moment, except for a distant sense

of foreboding. Behind him opened the maw of a massive iron gate, and beyond that

a hulking brick building. Above the gate in large iron letters: J. Nell, Factory, Inc.

Everyone in a family had to contribute these days. The lucky families owned

their own businesses, and worked and lived together. The unlucky ones saw the

crack up, the selling off of the children into the stream of commerce. While some

might be able to send their offspring to the local store, the factory down the street,

or the office pit up the way, so they could then return home at the end of each work

day, the truly wretched had no choice but sign away their kin to some distant

worksite. Each work contract signed by the head of the household obligated the

child worker to at least twenty years of service for a wage paid to the family.

Thomas was one of the wretched ones. At twelve years old, he would not

step outside that gate until he was thirty-two. He didnt know how many kilometers

away home was, but he knew it took them all night to get here.

An obese man in a blue uniform trundled out of the factorys main entrance.

His small eyes inside his large round face, found Thomas. He quickly moved


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towards him. Sweat poured down his brow. He opened his mouth to speak,

revealing, yellowed and misshaped teeth.

We havent got all morning, he said in a booming voice. Times wasting.

The sooner we get you processed the sooner you can start making your way in this

world.

Thomas paused, looking out the gate at the world behind.

The man turned and started to walk back towards the entrance. Youve got

ten seconds before I sic the dogs on you.

Thomas ran and caught up with him.


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Chapter Two

This is your workstation, said the tall, thin, man energetically. What you

do here is important work. Be thankful that you have a job so that you can help your

family survive these very difficult times. I am Mr. Nell. Welcome to my factory.

Thomas workstation was a stationary bicycle bolted to the floor. The rear

wheel was fitted to a large pulley, which drove a wide leather belt connected to a

shaft thatran along the ceiling from the workstation to a small hole in the wall.

About sixty-five other children were madly peddling at their workstations.

Any questions?

What do you make here? asked Thomas.

Well, we are a manufacturing development firm, said Mr. Nell.

So what is that?

The development of manufacturing, said Mr. Nell, smiling. Its very

important work. We have contracts with several of the biggest companies, and will

soon apply for a contract with the government. The development of manufacturing

is very good business now. Youre lucky to be here at this moment because I am

growing the business. Were going to do big things.

Uh huh, said Thomas, looking over his workstation. He noticed a device

attached to the rear wheel, like one of those bicycle light generators. A gage on the

bicycle handle clocked the number of total revolutions.


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I know youll probably need some time to get up to speed, said Mr. Nell. So,

take your time. Its 8:00 A.M. now, so Illcheck and see how youre doing at 8:30 or

so? I like to set goals, so how about you be about 160,000 revolutions by then?

Good. Again, we are so glad to have you onboard. Were going to do great things.

Mr. Nell spun around and quickly left the room. Thomas was indeed grateful

for the work. He recalled on the way here the streets lined with dirty, hungry

families, and their work for food cardboard signs. As Thomas mounted his

workstation, a dark-haired girl with a soup bowl haircut dismounted her bike and

approached him. She looked to be about his age. She wiped sweat from her brow

with a red rag before returning it to the back pocket of her beige coveralls.

Im Dot, she said, extending her hand. Thomas warily eyed her, but shook it.

I heard you were coming today.

Im...

Thomas, she said. I know. So, how much did Mr. tell you about your job?

I guess I am helping to develop manufacturing, he said.

Really? He told me I was to push a cart collecting scrap metal for processing,

but here I am. Youll find the story changes a lot here.

How long have you been here? asked Thomas as he began to pedal.


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She laughed. He got the feeling she was having a joke at his expense. Well,

lets see. Ive been here going on ninety-days. Im the old-timer here. Very few

make itpast their probation. Theres a lot of turn-over here.

Thomas stopped peddling. How come? What happens?

I dont know. They are just gone. Mr. comes out and tells us some story

about why they arent here anymore, but I dont believe him. Hidden underneath

my bed are a lot of initials cut into the frame. Many of them have dates of when they

started working here, or at least when they realized they needed to record that they

were here. A lot of kids slept in my bed before me. The last one was gone a week

before I showed up.

Did they go back to their families? asked Thomas, hopefully.

Maybe, she said, deep in thought. One mom and dad came here one time

and accused Mr. of not only not paying them their kids wages, but selling him off to

someone else. Theyre taking Mr. to court for the lost wages.

Come on, how can you know that?

When he was away one day, I saw the papers that said so.

You can read? asked Thomas.

Cant you?

Yes, but so few girls know how to read now.


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Yeah, well, thats one reason Mr. has me work in his office from time to time.

Hes too cheap to pay a secretary.

Well, I better getstarted, said Thomas. I got to get160,000 done before I

meet with him this morning.

Dot rolled her eyes and laughed, Have fun.


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Chapter Three

Thomas didnt know how much to believe about what Dot said about Mr. Nell.

Yet, he couldnt deny that something seemed not right here at the factory. Hardly

anyone spoke, laughed or chatted. He never had his morning meeting with Mr. Nell,

but the next morning, he found a small note on his workstation, which read: I

would like to see you now. MRN.

Sitting in his office, Thomas watched Mr. Nell reading some kind of document.

His face betrayed no expression. When he finally looked at Thomas, he produced a

strained, odd smile. So, how are you making out?

Fine, sir, said Thomas. I was wondering when I can call my parents. To tell

them Im alright.

His smile almost faded, before regaining strength. Well, normally, resident

workers dont receive phone privileges during their ninety-day probation. But, well

see He trailed off. Im glad to see you made your quota of 2,000 revolutions

yesterday morning.

Thomas could have sworn he said 160,000. Thanks.

Mr.s expression turned serious. Ive had some trouble with security, with

people divulging information about our business to outsiders. Ive had some

additional security measures put in place to make sure our company secrets dont

get out. Dont tell anyone else about what we discuss or about your work.

Thomas nodded. Okay.


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Good. Now, the workstations are connected to a mill turning grain into flour

for a major bakery, said Mr. Nell. This contract is very important. It will provide

the money to expand our manufacturing development.

Very good, sir.

Can you read?

Yes, sir.

Mr.s smile reappeared. Good. I need smart people. Ill let you get back to

your station then.

As quickly as it appeared his smile disappeared as he sifted through the

papers on his desk. Thomas stood up and left.


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Chapter Four

Days passed into weeks and then into a month. Thomas dutifully pedaled.

Mr. mostly left him alone. Dot said it was because he was the new favored one. One

Wednesday, at lunchtime, Dot took her place next to him in the cafeteria. She had

established herself as his mentor on the ways of the factory.

Do you mind me asking you what you are working on? she asked, munching

a Granny Apple.

Thomas remembered Mr.s instructions, but weeks of peddling didnt seem to

produce anything but sweat. It all started to seem rather pointless. He told me we

were grinding flour for a major bakery. Thats what the workstations are connected

to, a mill.

Dot laughed hard. Have you ever seen one truck deliver or pickup anything

here? So, were helping to make bread, are we? He told Tara on Station one that we

were powering a saw to make lumber.

Thomas frowned. Why would he lie about such things, about what we do

here?

My guess is he tells various people different things, so if there is an

information leak he knows whos talking. Though with so many lies flying about I

dont know how he remembers what he told to whom.

I wonder where the workstation shafts lead to, said Thomas. Whats in the

next room? He looked at Dot, who shrugged her shoulders.


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* *

The following week, Mr. went off on a business trip. Thomas felt the coil of

tension unwind amongst his fellow co-workers. For such a quiet man, Mr. sure kept

everyone tense.

That Monday at lunch, he looked at Dot and said, Lets go.

Dot followed him to the main hallway to a blue door standing about three

meters to the right of the workroom door. A sign in one-inch block letters said:

KEEP OUT!

Now the trick is to get inside without damaging the door, said Thomas.

I hope you thought that far ahead, said Dot.

Umm, no.

Dot took out a key ring holding about seven keys.

I guess being Mr.s office monkey has its advantages, said Thomas. At least

he likes you.

Gawd, I hope not, said Dot. With any luck my parents can sell my contract

to a real factory.

Thomas spotted two more doors further down the hallway, one opposite the

other. The door on the left side of the hallway was green and included a door handle


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but no keyhole. The other was a blue ventilated door, marked in white letters,

Supplies.

What are those two doors down there? he asked.

Dot looked down the hallway. The janitors supply closet, she said. I dont

know whats in the other one. Ive never seen anyone go in there. I guess its some

kind of mechanical room. Maybe the boiler is in there.

Returning his attention to the Keep Out door, Thomas took the keys from

Dot, inserted them into the keyhole and opened the door. He reached inside and

flipped the light switch.

The room was empty. The workstation shafts from the workroom spun on

their axes. They were connected to no machinery, no mills, nothing.

Dot gasped.

Thomas shook his head and started laughing. Now we know for sure. Its all

pointless.

Thomas turned the light off and closed the door. Dotlooked at him. Then

what is the point? she asked. Why are we here?

Does it matter? he replied, walking back to the workroom.


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Chapter Five

The following Monday, Mr. Nell called Thomas into his office. Thomas long

ago noticed that Mr. liked his power plays. He stood waiting about a meter in front

of Mr.s desk as he read some document. About twenty seconds passed before he

looked at Thomas.

So, why are you wasting my time and money? he asked Thomas, his face

contorted with barely controlled anger.

Thomas put his hands behind his back. His hands began to tremble. Sir?

Youre work is garbage, he spat. The mill needs to run at a certain speed or

the flour is ruined. Its outside the bakerys specifications. They wont accept it. Ive

lost five batches last week!

Thomas gripped his hands tighter. Sorry, sir.

Why do I need you? I might as well do the peddling myself!

He wanted to tell him that he would be happy if he rescinded his contract and

sent him home, but instead, said, Well, sir, going forward, what do you want me to

do?

Mr. paused. Thomas could see the wheels turning in his head. His face

softened a bit. He sounded disappointed. Do yourjob, he said. Were going to

meet every day for awhile, just to keep an eye on your progress.

Okay. Thomas spun around and walked out.


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* *

Back in the workroom, Dot came up to him. What happened?

That man is an idiot! he exploded. He thinks were fools! He got on me for

messing up the flour for our bakery contract. Can you believe that?

This is Mr. were talking about. Nothing surprises me about him anymore.

Im not like you, said Thomas. You know how to handle him, how to talk to

him, how to manipulate him. He likes you.

Thats a thing to say to me, said Dot, mocking a hurt tone.

I dont know how much longer I can tolerate him and his pointless work. I

could barely keep from jumping over his desk and choking him.

Are your parents looking for another buyer for your contract? asked Dot.

Tara and a lot of the other kids have their parents looking for other buyers.

Yeah, I wrote them last week after we found that empty room.

Try to hang on until you can get out, said Dot, placing a hand on his

shoulder.


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Chapter Six

The Wednesday after next, Mr. stopped his daily meetings with him. That

night Thomas lay awake in bed. He listened to the breathing of the other kids in the

dormitory, thinking. He hoped to come up with a way out of Mr. Nells factory that

didnt lead to his family being on the street holding work for food signs.

The slow creaking of the door opening broke his reverie. He could just make

out the tall, lanky figure of Mr. as he entered the dormitory. The moonlight gleamed

off his baldhead. He stopped at Taras bed and leaned over her. He held a

handkerchief, and placed it over her nose and mouth. She silently struggled for a

few moments, and then went limp. Mr. scooped her up and slowly walked out.

Thomas got out of bed. He momentarily thought about putting on his shoes,

but decided his bare feet would be quieter. He dashed out of the dormitory and saw

Mr. walk down the staircase with Tara and proceed into the main hallway. Thomas

ran down the stairs and halted at the mouth of the hallway. He saw Mr. stop at the

door with no keyhole. He laid Tara down on the floor next to the door and went into

his office further down the hallway.

Thomas ran down to Tara, and scanned the small, blonde girl. He knelt down

and saw her chest slowly rising and falling. He heard a creaking sound from Mr.s

office. He turned and hid in the janitors closet. The creaking grew louder. Thomas

watched through the slats of the doors ventilation. Mr. pulled a childs metal red

wagon behind him; only this one was rather rusted and pitted.


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Mr. flipped the light switch. Thomas had just now noticed that the rooms

light switch was not inside the room, but outside. Mr. opened the door, and placed a

doorstop on the floor to keep the door open. Apparently, it was spring-loaded to

close, though he couldnt see any springs. The door also didnt have a door handle

on the inside. The room was bare, except for a table that seemed to be made from

crates. Mr. picked Tara up and laid her down on the table. Then he exited the room

and closed the door. He turned out the light in the room.

Nothing happened for what seemed like ages. What kooky thing are you up

to? Thomas whispered. Suddenly, the loudest, coldest screech he ever heard

roared out of the room. He glued his hands over ears, but it still poured into his ears,

spiking into his brain and ripping down his back. Thomas heart pounded.

Just as suddenly as it came, the screeching stopped. Mr. turned on the light

and opened the door. He wheeled the wagon into the room.

Thomas put his hand on the door handle, but decided not to head back to the

dormitory just yet. Mr. pulled the wagon out. It wasnt empty anymore. It now

contained Taras pajamas. They were torn and stained red. The wagon also

contained a small mountain of diamonds of various sizes. Two were the size of a

grapefruit, some were the size of Thomas fist, the vast majority of them were the

size of pebbles. Mr. picked up the doorstop and the door closed. He turned out the

light and pulled the wagon into his office.

Thomas dashed out ofthe janitors closet and ran back to the dormitory.


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* *

The next morning, Thomas didnt tell Dot what he saw. He didnt know how

to do so. He didnt think, Dot, Tarawas eaten by Mr.s pet monster could be said in

anyway that didnt bring his sanity into question.

As he pedaled, Mr. entered the workroom and announced, Everyone, I have

some sad news. Tara has decided to leave us. More to the point, her parents have

sold her contract to another factory. Wellthats all Ill say about that. I shall be

bringing in a replacement soon.

From that day on, Thomas stayed up late every night until exhaustion forced

him asleep.


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Chapter Seven

Two nights later, Dot got up and sat on the edge of his bed. Something bad

happened to Tara, didnt it? she asked.

Thomas raised his head and looked at her. He could barely see her in the

dimness, but he could tell she was staring at him intently. Yeah, he replied.

Dot sighed. He never keeps more than sixty-six kids at a time. I can tell

when hes about to get rid of someone when he starts looking for a new kid.

He was looking for a kid before Tara disappeared?

Yes, she whispered. She stayed silent for a long while.

Thomas rose up on his elbows. What?

Hes not looking for just one kid, but two.

Thomas dropped his head back onto his pillow. Then Im next.

It could be me too. My family cant afford for me to leave now. They never

give enough to eat in the breadlines, and work contracts are getting harder to find

nowadays with so many in need of work, especially home in Denton.

Thomas got up and sat down beside her. I doubt hell get rid of you anytime

soon. He needs you to run his office. Plus, I still think he likes you.

Would you stop saying that? Thats not making me feel any better. She

smiled.


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He doesnt like me, for sure. I know Im next. Hell blame me for something

about the bakery job, and then Ill be gone.

Hell be more subtle than that, said Dot. He wont say he got rid of you, but

that you left for some reason. He doesnt take responsibility for anything or anyone.

Nothing is ever his fault.


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Chapter Eight

The next morning, Thomas approached his workstation and prepared to

pedal. He checked the pedals, gears and chain, and so on. The workroom was

already busy. Because of his late nights, he normally skipped breakfasts now,

sleeping in and heading straight from the dormitory to his station. He was just

about to mount his bicycle when he heard Mr. clearing his throat behind him. He

turned.

I just wanted to let you know that Dot left us early this morning, said Mr.,

somberly.

Thomas didnt hear much else he may have said after that. He just hoped that

he would stop talking and leave before the rage inside him exploded.

But, the mission goes on, Mr. said. Theres a lot of work to do. Were doing

great things. With that, Mr. scurried out of the workroom.

Thomas jumped on his cycle and pedaled faster and faster, tears streaming

down his face. His feet slipped off the pedals, which slammed into his legs. He fell to

the floor and cried. God! Why Dot? Why Dot?

* *

Every night since the monster ate Dot, Thomas slept in the janitors closet. If

Mr. was going to take him, he was going to have to find him first. He would wait

until all the other kids were asleep then sneak out.


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* *

Three nights later, Thomas heard the creaking of Mr.s wagon. He looked

through the ventilation slats in the door of the janitors closet and saw a portly,

redheaded, freckled boy on the floor next to the opposite door. It looked like Sam

from Station twenty. The door was already propped open with the doorstop. Mr.

stopped the wagon when he reached Sams limp body. The light was already on and

Thomas saw a pair of red-stained beige coveralls piled on the floor next to the table.

Mr. looked inside and joked, Mr. Nell, you must learn to clean up after

yourself. Mr. walked inside and leaned over to pick up the bloody clothes.

Thomas, consumed with rage, opened the janitors closet door and ran out.

He kicked the doorstop and the door slammed shut behind Mr.

Whoa! said Mr. Great, the doors closed in on us.

Thomas turned off the light.

Whos out there?

Thomas remained silent, kneeling down to examine Sam. He was still alive.

Whoever you are, I demand that you let me out! This is no time for games!

If you dont let me out, Ill find out who you are and

Mr. started banging on the door. Okay, this is not amusing anymore. Let me

out. I can make it worth your while. I can let you out of your contract with plenty of


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money to help your family. I have a lot of money. I have diamonds. Have you ever

seen a diamond as big as a melon? Its yours. Just let me out. Please! Please!

The piercing screech drowned out Mr.s cries.

Mr. screamed. No!

Mr.s pounding on the door stopped, and then silence.

Thomas waited for a few seconds before flipping the lights back on and

opening the door. Inside, he found Mr.s bloody clothes strewn about the room. In

the far right corner of the room, he found a large pile of diamonds.


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Chapter Nine

The next morning, Thomas put on his coat and slung a rough sack over his

shoulder. He walked into the busy workroom.

Everyone, listen! Mr. is gone! Youre all free! he said.

He reached into his pocket and tossed a handful of pebble-sized diamonds

onto the floor. The kids all looked at him and then the diamonds in stunned

amazement.

Theres a lotmore in Mr.s office, said Thomas. Go home.

* *

Thomas took a long deep breath of the brisk, bracing air as he stepped

beyond the factory gateway onto the sidewalk. He flagged down a cab.

Where to? asked the cabby.

Thomas wanted to go home, but he needed to do something first. How much

to Denton?

The cabby grimaced. Dentons kind of a long ways. You got some money on

you?

Thomas set his rough sack down and reached in. He felt the melon-sized

diamond, but instead pulled out one of the marble-sized ones. Will this do?

The cabbys face brightened. Sure, get in.

Thomas and the Factory

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