American Shutdown - Chapter 4: 1 PM Separation Package

During his ride back to the plant, reality started to settle into Sam’s mind. Maybe he should have shopped around before the guillotine blade dropped. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so comfortable with the perks and comfort of the work. Shuda, cuda, wuda.

Upon returning to the plant Sam saw that the parking lot was less crowded. It afforded a dry spot near the office entrance where there was a row of vans marked TechCall Security Services. A small group of employees catching a smoke were standing in the damp cold amid a butt-littered pad to the left of the entrance.

“Damn,” Sam thought. “They’ve brought in a whole gang of contract security guards.” It made him feel like he was going into a jail.

After holding his breath while passing the smokers, Sam proceeded to his now temporary office on the second floor to get ready for the separation show. There was an inter-office envelope with his name on it in the center of his desk. Sam recognized Bernie’s writing.

He opened the envelope to read: “Sam, I’m not going to make it to the one o’clock. See if you can pick up my package and bring it over to the house for Mimi to hold for me. If they won’t do it, find out if they can mail it to us. Thanks, Bernie.”

It wasn’t bad enough to handle his own problems, Sam thought, but now he had to handle Bernie’s, as well. What the hell was Bernie up to? Maybe he was panicking along with his wife. He decided to call Peg to see if she knew anything.

“Peg, where are you? Has Mimi called you at all? Sam asked using his last free company phone time.

“I’m still at Jimmie’s. No, nothing from Mimi but Jimmie says the general patter around here about the plant closing with such an immediate no warning basis is not being received very well by his regular customers. Are you going in to get your separation package?” she asked.

Sam answered, “No, there’s still time. The line’s too long right now. Well, I got this note on my desk from Bernie that he wants me to pick up his package and get it over to his house. Could you call Mimi and ask her what’s going on? I got to go stand in line. Keep in touch, ok.”

“Ok, I’ll try to call her. Luv ya.“ She signed-off with “Stay cool.”

Taking his place in the separation line, Sam called Bernie with his new TracFone only to get his voice mail. Then he texted him to ask what was up and whether he’d be going out with the boys after six. When he looked up from his phone he noticed a guy from the plant throwing a left-handed bird backward to the cafeteria as he emerge from the doors with his large, stuffed, canary envelope cradled in his right arm.

As Sam got closer to the tables he was directed to the one that had a set with his last name’s initial. When he got to that line, a perky young gal came up to him and asked his name. After checking it on a list she was toting, she said he would have to go over to another table in the corner of the cafeteria. When he asked why, she said he’d find out when he got there and not to worry because it was a good thing to have to go to that table.

A good thing, my ass, Sam thought. But he did what he was told and went over to the table to the rear of the cafeteria at which he was one of two others. Another perky young lady in a dark business pant suit and comfortable black pumps said hello and handed him a much larger package that the guy who threw the bird had been given. She then directed him to go to room 325 on the third floor. She said a corporate HR representative would meet with him to discuss the possibility of recalling him to assist in the plant shutdown and relocation of operations to other site facilities.

Not sure if he should be flattered, Sam said thanks and proceeded up the stairs to room 325 which was a medium-sized, windowless huddle room used for quick, no-nonsense meetings. When he got there he was greeted by a cherub-faced kid who said his name was Chang Sun. He invited him in while asking how he was doing.

Chang Sun got right to the subject by saying Sam was selected to be recalled because of his experience with the micro-medical product lines and inventories. Also, he would be knowledgeable how they would need to be safely packed and shipped to other locations. He also knew that Sam had been involved with other size-downs when in the 1990’s the company sold-off its prosthetic device division at its Manchester plant.

Chang Sun also said Sam knew where everything was in the plant and they felt he could be trusted with a confidentiality agreement while conducting his shut-down duties. They also were impressed with his military experience while serving in Viet Nam that included officer in charge of military supply chains. With that he asked Sam what his reaction was to the offer.

Sam’s initial thought was he was going to be a glorified shipping clerk. But, he held his tongue and said, “So, when would all this start?”

The young man went on to say it would be almost immediately, maybe as early as the next morning if he signed the separation package papers by then.

“Tomorrow morning? That’s impossible. I’ll be hung over from tonight’s misery binge with the guys about the plant shutdown,” Sam told the kid.

Chang tried to hide his smile while advising Sam that the inventory, riggers and disposal teams were showing up that evening and would be in full force on Saturday morning and that they could surely use his expertise to make their jobs easier.

Sam responded, “Do you have the temp agreement with you. I’ll at least need to look at it overnight. Can I bring it in tomorrow or do you expect me to sign it before I take a look at my separation package?” Sam asked.

Chang noted that the separation agreement he would give him incorporated the temporary service agreement. All he had to do was bring back the entire package on Saturday morning to close the deal and start work. He added that the company would like him to keep this quiet from his co-workers until the shutdown close of business at 6 PM.

“Look, Chang, I’ll take a look at it but to be honest with you I’m not sure I’ll tie on with you. What compensation are you offering?” Sam wanted to know.

“It’s $35 dollars per hour with no benefits except the normal mandated ones. Peak work days during the move might go as high as 12-14 hours. If the team beats the deadline schedules, there’d be a bonus of some kind shared by the contractor with the temp help,” Chang proudly announced.

An image flashed though Sam’s head in which he had lunged across the desk and was choking Chang to death. Instead he informed him that he would review the separation package back in his office and would need to call his wife at work about his offer before getting ready to hand in all the company’s personal property at three.

He asked Chang whether he liked telling laid-off employees that they were needed to make the lay off go more smoothly.

Chang caught the irony in his question and just smiled back with his baby face saying, “This is going on everywhere. These are different times. The market conditions change faster than we can keep up with. We do our best to deal with it. Sorry it has to be this way for you. Hey, one more thing. Try not to come in hung over tomorrow. There will be a short interview in the plant conference room before they OK you.”

Chang handed Sam the bulky package, shook his hand and asked him, “How are you doing?”

“Oh, just peachy keen,” Sam sniped back. “Just peachy keen,” he said again as he glided out the door back to his office thinking “Sam, how are you doing, my ass.”

"Hickory dickory dock,
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down,
Hickory dickory dock."

                      ....................................　

                   American Shutdown by Benjamin F. Campanelli
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