Termination Man: a novel (19 page)

All of this meant that the machinations of Alan and Lucy were futile, self-destructive gestures, parts of a petty rebellion that would consume any other employees who foolishly agreed to partake in them.

It was Alan who immediately recognized my skepticism regarding the plans. “You think that all of this a waste of time, don’t you, Craig?” he asked me.

“What do I know, Alan? I’m just the FNG around here.”

I was professionally obligated to tell TP Automotive about what Alan and Lucy were planning. Immediately after lunch, I sent Beth Fisk a text message telling her that I had to meet with her, Bernie, and Kurt.
An urgent issue
, I typed.

However much I may have disliked Shawn Myers, and however much I was beginning to doubt the judgment of his father, I could no longer dispute my clients’ basic assessments of Alan and Lucy. These two had willingly stepped into their roles of the company rebels. Whatever their reasons, they were both taking extraordinary steps to oppose TP Automotive—the entity that now paid both of their paychecks.
And yes, they would end up being ejected from their jobs.
What else could they reasonably expect?

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention so promptly,” Beth said when I had finished my account of the lunchtime conversation with Alan and Lucy. “You were absolutely correct to gather us all immediately to let us know.”

For a moment the executive boardroom was filled with what appeared to be stunned silence. I don’t think that any of them were particularly disturbed by the petition—which in all likelihood would never see the light of day outside of UP&S or the TP Automotive headquarters building. But the talk of the
Detroit Automotive Gazette
had clearly rattled them.     

“I have some contacts at the
Detroit Automotive Gazette
,” Bernie finally said, breaking the silence. “I’ll give them a call, see if I can put the lid on this ‘story’ about UP&S. I don’t know what kind of an expos
é
they might be planning, other than revealing the fact that we have two very ungrateful employees on our payroll. But it’s possible that a rogue journalist on their staff might try to run with the idea. Some of them can never pass up a chance to give a reputable company a black eye. Craig, I don’t suppose Alan told you who he was talking to at the
Gazette
, did he?”

“No. And I figured that he would be suspicious if I asked him. Alan is a cagey one.”

Bernie nodded. “Of course he is. The man is trying to stab his employer in the back. I would be hyper-vigilant myself, if I were him.”

“This is an outrage,” Kurt Myers said. “An unmitigated outrage.”

Kurt Myers had barely spoken throughout my description of the plots that Alan and Lucy were hatching. His face had grown red during my telling, and he had relied on Bernie and Beth to ask for clarifications and additional details.

“I’m absolutely disgusted by those two,” he said. “To tell you the truth, I’m of half a mind to simply call them both in here right now and fire them on the spot. Today. Without further ado.”

“No,” Bernie interjected. “I don’t think that would be wise. We could be accused of interfering with their freedom of speech.”

“They can have all the freedom of speech they want outside of these walls,” Kurt said, sweeping his arm in a wide gesture meant to indicate the physical shell of the company. “I don’t care whom they vote for come election day. I don’t care if they’re evangelical Christians, Jews, Muslims, Catholics, or atheists. I don’t care if they’re monogamous, celibate, or swingers. I’ve never meddled in the private affairs of my rank-and-file subordinates, like Henry Ford did.”

Kurt was referring to the moralistic and intrusive management practices of Henry Ford, the founder of the automaker that still bears his name. Henry Ford had established a “social department” that was responsible for maintaining high moral standards among his employees—including those at the lowest levels of his organization. Ford Motor Company investigators ferreted out after-hours misbehavior of all kinds, including drinking, gambling, consorting with loose women, and even the failure to attend religious services. As the author of a tract entitled
The International Jew: The World's
Foremost
Problem
,
Henry Ford
had also been known for his anti-Semitic views. Nazi Germany bestowed the Grand Cross of the German Eagle on Ford in 1938, the year before the outbreak of the Second World War.

“All I ask,” Kurt went on. “Is that my employees work hard, follow the company’s rules, and be loyal team players. These two have betrayed our trust. They have broken the basic social contract that underlies every employment relationship. And they will both suffer the consequences.”

After that meeting, I didn’t want to go back to my desk immediately. I decided to make my own little tour of the plant floor—maybe I could pretend to check the inventory of some of the items my department purchased. Or I could simply pretend to be the eager new employee who was overly anxious to learn about UP&S’s manufacturing operations.

I was quite sure that neither Alan nor Lucy would have the slightest inkling of what I was up to. Nevertheless, I didn't want to be among them just then. It wasn’t exactly guilt that was holding me back. I firmly believed that both of them were sowing the seeds of their own destruction. Maybe it was simply the regret that I was not in a position to take them aside and warn them of what was coming.

Donning the required safety gear from the little storage room in the hallway leading to the plant, I stepped through the double doors and into the noise and bustle of the plant floor. I followed more or less the same trajectory that I taken with Alan only days before.

I came upon the workstation of Roy Jones and Helen Dufresne. To my surprise, they both recognized me. Roy hailed me in a loud voice.

“Hey, College Boy!” he shouted. “You been readin’ any Plato?”

I walked closer to them before answering, so I wouldn’t have to shout.

“Actually, I’m reading Posidonius today,” I said, referring to a mostly forgotten stoic philosopher who had lived during the Roman era. It was an obscure name that I barely recalled from one of my undergraduate philosophy courses. I had decided to see if Roy and Helen could receive as well as they gave.

“Posey who?” Roy asked.

“He lived about three hundred years after Plato.”

Roy paused. “Can you spell that guy’s name for me, College Boy?”

“Forget it,” I said. “I don’t want to tell you. If I do that, next you’ll ask me a question that will really stump me.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but it doesn’t take much to stump old Roy here,” Helen said, pulling a fresh part off the rack of stampings beside her machine. She placed the oblong stamped component on the bed of her riveting machine, closed the clamps, and pressed the red cycle-start button. The riveting machine began to do its thing: Clatters and hisses. Burning smells. The cycle lasted no more than fifteen seconds. Once it was over, Helen proceeded to repeat the process. Working quickly, she lifted the completed part off the machine bed and placed it atop the pile on another rack—this one for finished parts.

Neither of these two had any connection to my assignment at TP Automotive. My contract involved Alan, Lucy, and the two suspected embezzlers on
the loading and receiving dock,
Nick King and Michael O’Rourke. Strictly speaking, Roy and Helen were out-of-bounds, as far as I was concerned.

Nevertheless, I ma
de
a habit
of
learn
ing
as much as possible about the organizations in which I operate
d
.
I had long ago reached an important realization: I would
never grasp the complete picture from either a company’s senior management, or from one of senior management’s targets. Senior managers w
ould
seldom admit that there
was
anything
wrong inside an organization (
with the exception of under-motivated and ungrateful employees, of course
)
. The targets of my termination
assignments
, on the other hand,
were
by definition suffering from motivation and/or morale issues
.
T
hey
weren’t
exactly unbiased sources either.

This is why I frequently needed to tap other individuals in an organization in order to understand the big picture. Roy and Helen seemed perfect: They weren’t members of the company’s hierarchy. Nor had they come to anyone’s attention thus far as disgruntled employees.

“You two have a minute?” I asked.

“Sure, what’s up, College Boy?” Roy asked me.

I knew that I would have to be careful here. I had to make my questions as innocuous as possible, so that they were unlikely to remember this conversation as anything unusual. And I certainly couldn’t ask anything that was openly leading. Nor could I distract them from their tasks for long. A protracted conversation would attract the attention of one of the production supervisors, and inevitably lead to inquiries.

“You guys have both been here a long time, right?”

“You mean at UP&S? Sure,” Roy said. “Me and Helen both been here more or less since they opened the doors, just like Alan tol’ you the other day.”

“You two would be a good source for me, then.”  

“’Source’? What you talkin’ about, College Boy?” Roy’s demeanor was still fundamentally friendly, but cautious now.

“I’m new here,” I said. “I’m trying to learn the ropes, get the lay of the land. You understand?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

“Well, I’ve been hearing some talk about the new management. You know: People are telling me that things have changed—and that things are not as good as before. What do
you
think? Has TP Automotive ruined the environment here?”

That was, I reflected upon saying it, a fairly leading question. But subtlety likely wouldn’t get me the answer I was looking for.

“Shee-it,” Roy said with a toothy smile. “I don’t know about nothing being ‘ruined.’ I’m just happy to have my job. I was one of the ones they let go during the temporary shutdown, before them folks from TP Automotive come in and bought the place. All I could find was some part-time gig in Columbus, stocking shelves in a Walmart. You ever work in a Walmart, College Boy?”

Roy temporarily returned his attention to the task before him:  His rivet-welding machine clamped down on an aluminum part. There was the smell of ozone.

“No,” I said honestly. “I can’t say as I have.”

A smile. “I didn’t think so. Well, this job beats the pants off of that any day. Here we get decent pay and benefits. You work retail, you live hand to mouth for the rest o’ your life.”

Helen nodded at this sentiment. “I’m glad to be here, too. To tell you the truth, I’m grateful.”

Was this display of company spirit nothing more than a show for a suit from the front office?
I wondered. I wanted to find out, so decided to push them a bit further.

“Well, tell me this: Haven’t there been any changes in work procedures since the TP Automotive buyout? They say that when a big corporation like that takes over a place, the new management team doesn’t leave things as they are. Surely you guys have seen some changes.”

Now I was certainly leading too much. I sounded almost like a union organizer myself, I thought.

Roy pointed a finger at me: “Sure there been some changes,” Roy said. “But let me tell you one thing, College Boy: They ain’t nothing that we can’t handle. And if it keeps my job from going to China or Mexico, I ain’t going to complain none,” he said.

Helen nodded in agreement. “TP Automotive isn’t asking for much—not really,” she said. “A little more output per hour. It’s amounted to some shortened cycle times. But like Roy said, we can handle it—when we aren’t being distracted by some wet-behind-the-ears college boy, that is.”

“Hey, you guys were the ones who called out to me.”

“That’s because we felt sorry for you,” Roy said “We knew that nobody else was going to talk to your sorry college boy ass, so we decided to do what we could to make you feel at home.”

“Well, remind me to include you both in my will!” I said, waving and taking my leave of them.

“I’ll be countin’ on it, College Boy!” Roy said. “I’ll be enjoyin’ myself on all them stock options o’ yours!”

I shook my head and walked away. I’ve gone undercover in a lot of factory environments, and virtually all of them are like that: Every joke is simultaneously personal, biting, and good-humored. These cheerful insults were, believe it or not, Helen and Roy’s way of showing me that they liked me. 

Their comments also helped me to see the jeremiads of Kevin Lang, Lucy Browning, and Alan Ferguson in a different light. Clearly, not every employee perceived TP Automotive as some sort of evil empire. Roy and Helen seemed to understand the score clearly enough: America’s postwar era of hothouse capitalism and gentlemanly competition had been replaced by something that was brutal and cutthroat—something that demanded a new set of rules. Of course, nobody likes to have cycle times shortened and production quotas increased—but it's preferable to losing one’s job.