The Night I Sang

2

"And for the last time you bloody mud rat, if you don't got the fee... Stay off!!"

The tram tellie throws you off the stairs of the front of the tram, colliding into the dirt. You wince slightly, before dodging you lunch bag that hurls towards your head. You slam your hand frustrated into the dirt and get up, fixing your collar.

"As if it'll stop me... I need to get to the factory anyhow." You spot Jessie waving a stray handkerchief to say good bye and you smile back before heading towards the junction line of the factory.

The factory. The collection of metal materials and trade offs of production for everyone in the Western to Eastern city. It was a low class, D ranked factory that had coal and iron production while you on the other hand were in charge of one simple task. Collection and shipping.

Obviously during the time, no one trusted that a woman could do such dirty, burdening tasks of molding iron blocks and hammering molten metals into engineer parts. Such doing a man's job of heavy blacksmithing outside of the usual thread and needle was... painfully uncommon.

You didn't care however. You grew up fine learning how to repair toy cars, paper kites, your own alarm clock and your aunt's worn out sewing machine by hand. You were perfectly crafted through your hands within your skill. But not all the world was there to see you accomplish what some little boys barely paid attention to.

The next best thing, was what some would call harder than language. Math and simple school algebra. You wait patiently in line, feeling all adrenaline wear off as the day suddenly settles.

"Hey beanie..." You catch a familiar voice.

"I heard papers are today... they've been holdin' back ever since that shipment gettin' lost out sea." Cory snuffled, fixing his cap and standing behind you.

"I don't reckon they'll ever stop losing them either... we've been losing a lot of traders cargo." You hum.

It was true. The southern city, Polhagen, was responsible for all trading divisons over seas in order to deliver to all north, west, and higher east city ports. But these days, one after the other, ships have been getting lost in storms, sometimes returning in pieces, or never being heard from again. It's been in the papers for several days now, putting all workers in factories on hold of shipment... meaning less food on the table for pluggers and traders.

"Do you think they'll start lettin' us off?" Cory brushed his chin, a serious glaze in his eyes.

"If I have anything to say about it. Not a single one of them bosses can meld iron like you or calculate perfect percentage like me. They have nothin' to the likes of you. We'll be fine." You shake your head.

"Even so, it's gonna have to catch up with us. We ain't special..."

"Says you." You tease as he nudges you playfully.

The line speeds up as you finally reach the front check-in. However, the original young and up-sprite paperboy wasn't present but instead a round, heavy man sunken into his brown overalls sat in his place. His swept over hair spoke of hair loss while his thickened mustache made the idea comprehensible. He ultimately looked exhausted just being there with his glasses drawn on tight to the bridge of his nose as his brow wrinkled to read the divisions. You glance eyes with Cory who only shrugs. You hesitantly step towards the counter as the man raises his eyes with a subjective look.

"Name..."

"Y/N.... Y/N L/N."

"Number..."

"Eighty-seven...?"

He flipped through the files with a drag in his demeanor and passed up the papers. You take them and flip through to check reluctantly.

"W-wait... I worked the full hours last week. Why is it half?"

"Short supply means short pay. Next."

"No... no I don't think you understand, I worked overtime as well. There should be more than this-"

"If you have a problem with the pay lad, find a better job. Next." He dramatically waves his hand to shoo you away. Suddenly you felt him hit a nerve.

"Really? Find a better job, when your in here with your gobstopper hands runnin' our fill to the ground?! And I'm not a lad, I'm a woman you... you-!" Cory pulls you back swiftly, deescalating the situation before it turns into a scene.

"Dirty-hag..." The man scowled under his breathe.

"What?!" You whip your head around and squeak in anger. Cory pulled you faster until he grabs you by the shoulders, far away from the line at the factory doors.

"Just get to work... it's okay, I'll be there soon. We can figure all this magmite out later, just don't lose it... not here." He whispers, turning you the other way.

You sigh out of disappointment and frustration. Those papers were going to be the thing that finally pays off your night time job... that way, you wouldn't have to work at the factory anymore. Or deal with living coal like impertinent men like that all day. You close your eyes and sigh.

"Fine..."

Cory smiles concerningly before fixing his cap and walking back for his papers. You glance again at your papers in disbelief, heavy-hearted.

"This day couldn't get possibly worse could it? Half... what am I goin' do with half? That can barely support the two weeks..." You shake your head in thought and stuff your papers in your pocket. You march into the front doors of the factory, heading for packaging with a fixed gaze.

"I can do more than half... watch me..." You grumble.

Dictionary:

Mud rat: a dirty or filthy person

Polhagen(South): The southern city of traders, multiple famous markets, and landing ports of planes , ships, and the occasional motor cargo. The city of innovation and technology and immigrants. If you ever need anything, you go here to get it. It is the most popular area for the rich Northern and Eastern cities and a living luxury of work for the Western city.

Pluggers: Low income workers who work every day for the rest of their lives.

Papers: The paychecks for Class factory workers