Ernie told him.
"Say," Ernie asked, "do you make any money writing stories?"
"Once in awhile. If I sell the story I'm working on now, I think I'll
lay off for a couple of months and get a cabin down in Mexico. The
fishing will be good at Vera Cruz--" He stopped and frowned. "No. I
guess I won't. I can't."
"Why can't you?"
"Something I forgot. Never mind."
"No," Ernie persisted, "you were saying--"
"Forget it."
"Oh, I get it. You're afraid to lay off because they might not hire
you back?"
"Nuts. There's always some place that is hiring. You'd be surprised at
some of the jobs I've had, Ernie." He grinned. "As far as that goes, I
might get laid off here before I want to go."
"What makes you say that?"
"Look around you. How many men are working today?"
* * * * *
Now that his attention was called to it, Ernie glanced around the
cafeteria. Normally, it was packed during the lunch hour. Today, it
was less than three-quarters full.
"So? Some of the guys are out sick, that's all."
"There won't be much work this afternoon. We got most of it out this
morning."
"It's some new bug. Like that flu thing last winter." But Ernie's
voice, as he said it, was defensive. In Ernie's book, a layoff was a
bad thing.
Inside, Ernie's mind began to calculate the possibilities. It was a
thing Ernie's mind always did when it was confronted with the
unexpected. His mind didn't like to work, but Ernie liked the
unforeseen even less.
It was unlikely that the entire plant would be shut down. In that case
what supervisors would want him to stay on? He ran through the list of
his superiors and immediately came to Rogers.
Ernie winced. After this morning, Rogers would post him for the layoff
for sure. He could take it to the union, but--Ernie stopped and looked
suspiciously at Jory.
Did Jory know about the beef he had this morning with Rogers? Come to
think of it, Ernie didn't _know_ there was going to be a layoff. Was
Jory just needling him?
He looked around the cafeteria again. The tables on the edges of the
floor were deserted and empty. To Ernie's eyes it suddenly looked as
if the men who were eating had purposely gathered so they could be
close together. They sat with their backs hunched, turned on the empty
spaces behind them.
Even the noise, compared to the usual din of the cafeteria, seemed to
be different. It echoed and fell flat. Ernie didn't like it. He felt
funny. The overly familiar cafeteria had suddenly become strange.
A feeling began to grow in him that, somehow, the cafeteria was wrong.
"It ... looks funny," he said.