Safety

Safety


The sun is high in the sky, its golden arms are stretching out and the little shade provides a welcome relief for the boys in their singlet's and shorts, who are stacking forty kilogram cardboard boxes of sirloin meat onto blue chep pallets from a long white container that stretches out in front of a large shed which is covered in sheets of corrugated iron. A thick wide roof extends from the shed to meet the four supporting metal poles which are anchored into the concrete platform beneath. The ground rumbles as a truck pulls up beneath the roof. To the left of this shelter, John and Jack are putting the heavy boxes of meat onto the pallets. Toot Toot; a wide blue door on the shed opens and a big yellow forklift with Jake driving it, slowly appears from the inside on the shed. Jake stops beside the truck. Meanwhile John picks up the plastic wrap beside him and starts to wrap the boxes on the pallet. He tells Jack to get the knife off the back of the forklift. Jack walks over to the rear of the forklift and places his left foot behind the solid rubber wheel. Jake is talking to the truck driver, but Jack doesn’t take any notice of what is being said. Jack grabs the knife and is about to return to John when:

Beep, Beep, Beep.

“FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” Screams Jack.

Jake turns around and looks Jack in the eye and talks to Jack in a sarcastic tone, over the noise of the reverse beeper.

“What?”

“You’re on my Fucken big toe ya clown, MOVE!”

A smile grows like a baby lamb on Jakes face as he reaches for the gear lever and places it into forward gear. He eases off Jacks toe. Jack throws the knife at John as he hobbles over to an empty pallet that is resting in front of the white container, he falls heavily onto it. Using the knife like a machete John slices the plastic wrap, before racing inside the shed momentarily and emerging with a bag of frozen peas.

Jack kicks his boot off as John gives him the peas to put on the damaged toe.

He looks up at Jake, his eyes as cold as the peas.

“What? Do you want me to give your toe CPR?” Jake replies.

Jack leans back against the wall of the container, his eyes not straying from Jake. With one hand he reaches into his jeans pocket. He pulls out a red and white packet and shakes a cigarette from it. While his other hand fumbles around in his shirt pocket, eventually producing a black lighter. Jack lights his cigarette, takes a long drag and pauses.

“Nah, I just needed time for a smoke so you could keep up with us!” he laughs.