RED SOX: My boys; they're up then they're down and then they're really down and then they launch a rally and they drop even further. Ungh, it's starting to feel like the old days. I still love 'em though! Repeat often; we're still in second place, we're still in second place, we're still in second place…,
FEEDBACK: is appreciated at p.phair@comcast.net. Come on! One of you must have something cleaver to say.
Sunny was annoyed. There was a major delay underway at Wreckers' lot. It was holding up the rolling out of Strategic Action Phase: Gamma Disassembly Three. She slammed her car door shut in an unusual show of anger. Leaving Animal to figure her own way out of the little Prius, Sunny stormed over to the group of men standing in front of the trailer in the pre-dawn gray. She took a deep calming breath somewhat reassured seeing all of the men were dressed in the bib overalls and pink tee shirts she decreed as the new company uniform.
"Here she comes now," the smoke assaulted voice of Wreckers' operator announced before hacking up of mouthful of phlegm.
"Shit!" Cursed Sam the angry Samoan. "It's gonna get a lot uglier a lot faster!"
"Forty says she'll pull it off without cussing, quitting, or firing," Dick Weed muttered to the group.
"I'll take a piece of that action," Digger said as he reached into his pocket to pull out a roll of greenbacks.
"Where's the Animal? Corporate Chick's not just gonna let her off leash to wander around, is she? We'll all be licking the hair burned off our ass cheeks if we don't watch the little maniac," Snotty warned.
Skippy smacked the worried coke head across the face, "Pull it together, Dusty Whitenose. I'll snap that flaming punk's neck before she has a chance to strike a match."
"You'll do no such thing," Sunny cautioned from about twelve feet away. The group of men gasped in surprise she heard their hushed asides. "I have very good hearing gentlemen so I'd stop grumbling if you want to make it to sunset still gainfully employed. And, no gambling is allowed in the Commonwealth, Mr. Braveman, so put your money away."
The men settled into an uneasy quiet. They were respectful but suspicious of the woman new to their midst.
"So, why aren't all of you in the trucks and down at the work site?" Sunny asked.
Animal caught up to her by this time. She was a bit breathless from her struggle with the seat belt. The group of men stepped back a little to put more space between them and the late arrival. Animal noticed the change and shrunk behind Sunny. She twisted her fingers in the hem of Sunny's heavy gray college sweatshirt. Sunny ignored the action for a moment in order to deal with her most pressing dilemma.
"Mr. Braveman, what's the problem here?" Sunny asked.
Digger shook his head gravely and pointed to the trailer to explain. "Buttman is having a shit fest for himself. He took one look at the get-ups you want 'em to wear and flipped out. He locked himself in the trailer, screaming, and yelling and causing a big old ruckus. He simmered down about a half hour ago. Not a peep out of him since."
"Did you knock on the door and see what he's planning on doing with the rest of the day?"
The crew snickered. Wreckers' operator barked out a deep, hacking laugh. Digger tried to hold back his own chuckle.
"That ain't such a good idea, ma'am. Buttman is, well, volatile. He's the only guy in the group who's a Walpole grad."
"High school?" Sunny questioned to hearty laughs from the whole crew even Animal.
Digger winced. "Prison, ma'am. Buttman killed a guy in a bar fight. Totally an accident. Still, got him second degree murder."
"Is he on parole?"
"Nope. He pulled his whole time. Didn't even try for parole. He did the whole fifteen." The crew looked at the operator in disbelief at her comment.
Sunny frowned at the woman and asked, "How do you know this?"
"I'm the business office manager. It's the BOM's job to know the results of the CORI checks." The woman sniffed slightly offended. "Besides, he told me all about it."
"Okay," Sunny said with more confidence than she felt, "all of you wait here. I'm going in to talk to him."
"Bad idea, lady!" Mixer advised. "We call him Buttman because he beat the Hell out of some ass fucker who got all up in his biz in the joint. You don't need that crap. He might be motivated enough to go and hurt you something awful bad."
Sunny noticed real concern in Mixer's warning. She was touched but not enough to allow herself to be swayed from her current course of action. They were already off schedule and she needed to get them back on track. She gave the man a small smile and wink before she approached the steps to the trailer. Tiny tugs on her sweatshirt reminded her of her tail.
"Um, could somebody keep an eye on Ms. Animal for me?"
"Don't go in there," Animal sounded frightened. "He's a bad dude. He'll fuck you up. I mean, awh, I don't know anyway else to say it. He's really dangerous. He might even screw you up the ass."
Sunny blushed at the comment but regained herself enough to reassure Animal. "It'll be okay. If he won't listen to reason then I'll come right back out. I promise I won't let him hurt me."
"Sometimes," Animal said as tears began running down her cheeks, "sometimes you can't stop getting hurt, Ms. Sun. Sometimes they hurt you when you don't even see it coming. Sometimes when you're sleeping it starts up right under your bed."
Sunny felt an icy chill run down her back at Animal's hushed warning. It was heartfelt and seemed to be drawn from experience. She was grateful when Dick Weed grabbed Animal by the back of the neck and pulled her away.
"I'll be right out," Sunny promised.
She turned and mounted the trailer's stairs. Three hard raps on the door went unanswered. Three more were also ignored.
"Mr. Buttman, this is Sunshine Bright-Day. I'm coming into the trailer. I expect you'll be respectful of me as a business colleague."
With that announcement, Sunny pulled the door open and marched into the darkened trailer. Papers and cups were strewn across the floor. The chair she sat in just a few days ago was smashed to bits. The phone beeped endlessly off its hook.
"What the fuck do you want?" Buttman all but growled.
Sunny studied the man briefly. He was sitting in his underwear. His uniform was bunched into a ball on the desk in front of him. But, Sunny was most alarmed by the red rings under the big man's eyes. The man was crying.
"That's funny; I was just going to ask you the same thing. Great minds think alike apparently." Sunny thought for a moment before adding, "I wouldn't have sworn at you though. I respect you too much to diminish you in such a manner."
Buttman seemed unnerved by Sunny's comments. Yet, he remained still and silent. So, she continued.
"Mr. Braveman indicated you are unhappy with your new uniform. I picked out the uniforms so if there is something wrong with them then I'd appreciate it if you tell me what it is. If it is fixable then I'd be more than happy to get the supplier deal with the situation."
"Look," he said pleading and turned the denim bib toward her.
Sunny stepped over to the desk. Several scampering feet sounded across the linoleum reminding her she was right about the unseen creatures inhabiting the trailer. She lifted the material out of the man's hands and turned it toward the hint of light dimly illuminating the grimy window. The embroidery on the cloth spelled out the problem.
"Button," she murmured.
"They're all gonna laugh at me."
Sunshine pulled her phone out of its holder. She hit speed dial and waited. A few rings passed before a live voice answered.
"A very good morning to you! You've reached Bright Day Management Services. I am Oran, the Executive's Chief Assistant. How may I be of service to you?"
"A very good morning to you, Oran. I'm here at Wreckers and there is a rather big problem with Mr. Buttman's uniform. It seems they have misspelled his name."
"Oh dear. Let me just grab the invoice and confirm the proper spelling. I have Buttman, capital B as in boy, u, t, t, m, a, n, Buttman."
"That would be correct. Yet, they sent Button."
"Unbelievable! How do shops stay operational doing such sloppy work. I'll call them at once. It'll be corrected by noon. I'll make sure they send a two uniform refund for our trouble."
"In the mean time…," Sunny began.
"If you find the original packaging," Oran interrupted, "then there should be four extra unembroidered uniforms. Emergency fits for a small, medium, large, and extra large frame. I was trying to plan ahead."
"Hang on," Sunny glanced around and found the box. She dumped it over one handed and pulled out the extra large from the pile. "Got it. Thank you, Oran. You saved the day. Again."
"No problem, Boss. And, about last night, sorry about my behavior."
"No worries, Oran. I understand I can be difficult to work for. You hold up remarkably well. I'm proud to work with you."
"Thank you…so much," Oran's voice cracked.
"Be sure you have a wonderful and rewarding day, Oran."
"You as well."
Sunny press the off button on her phone and turned her attention to the man in his underwear. "These should fit. There's no name on the bib but my executive assistant is getting you a new pair with your name spelled correctly. Those will be ready by lunch time. If you would just slip these on then we can head down to the work site."
"I can't, my eyes, my face, its a mess," Buttman blubbered.
Sunny tossed him his overalls. "I'll get some cold water. Five minutes with a wet compress and your eyes will be like a baby's bottom."
Buttman wiped at his eyes. "You think so? Are you sure?"
"Look at this face. Does it look like I know what I'm talking about when it comes to skin care?"
Buttman leaned forward and studied Sunny in the growing morning light. "Beautiful."
Sunny smiled. "Thank you. Now get dressed. We've got a building to knock down."