Jed gave Kim a combination lock and took him to the locker room off the lunchroom. He waited while Kim changed into the boots and stored his shoes. Once Kim had on the hard hat, the yellow gauntlet-length gloves, and the white coat, he looked like he belonged.
“That’s quite a cut you got on your nose,” Jed commented. “What happened?”
“A glass storm door broke,” Kim said evasively.
“Sorry to hear that,” Jed said. “Well, you ready for the plunge?”
“I guess,” Kim said.
Jed led Kim out through the lunchroom and up the half flight of stairs to the fire door. There he paused and waited for Kim to catch up. He took something out of his pocket and extended his hand to Kim.
“I almost forgot these buggers,” Jed said. He dropped two small, weightless objects into Kim’s waiting palm.
“What are these?” Kim asked.
“Earplugs,” Jed said. ‘There’s a lot of noise out on the kill floor from the overhead rails and the power skinners and saws.”
Kim examined one of the small, cone-shaped, sponge-rubber like earplugs. They too were yellow.
“Listen,” Jed said. “Your job is to move around the floor and push the shit on the floor into the grates.”
“Shit?” Kim asked.
“Yeah,” Jed said. “You have a problem with that?”
“Real shit?”
“Well, a mixture of cow shit, barf, and gore,” Jed said.
“Whatever falls down from the line. This isn’t a tea party. And, by the way, watch out for the moving carcasses suspended from the rails, and, of course, watch out for the slippery floor. Falling down is no picnic.” Jed laughed.
Kim nodded and swallowed. He was really going to have to steel himself for the gruesome aspects of this job.
Jed checked his watch. “It’s less than an hour before we stop the line for the lunch break,” he said. “But no matter. It’ll give you a chance to get acclimated. Any questions?”
Kim shook his head.
“If you do,” Jed said, “you know where my office is.”
“Right,” Kim said. It seemed Jed was waiting for an answer.
“Aren’t you going to put in those earplugs?” Jed said.
“Oh yeah,” Kim said. “I forgot.” Kim pushed the little spongy plugs into his ear and gave a thumbs-up sign to Jed.
Jed threw open the door. Even with the earplugs, Kim was initially bowled over by the cacophony of noise that exploded into the stairwell.
Kim followed Jed out onto the kill floor. It was a far different place than it had been on Saturday night. Kim thought he’d prepared himself for the experience awaiting him, but he hadn’t. Instantly he turned green at the sight of the overhead conveyer carrying the suspended, hot, thousand-plus-pound carcasses combined with the whine of all the power machinery, and the horrid smell. The thick, warm air was laden with the stench of raw flesh, blood, and fresh feces.
Kim was equally overwhelmed by the visual impact of the spectacle. The powerful roof air conditioners. vainly struggling to keep the room temperature down, caused the fifty or so skinned dead animals currently in Kim’s line of sight to steam. Hundreds of workers in blood-spattered white coats were standing on the raised metal-grate catwalks elbow to elbow, laboring on the carcasses as they streaked by. Power lines draped about the space in a bewildering fashion, like pieces of a huge spider web. It was a surreal, Dante-esque image of the inferno: a hell on earth.
Jed tapped Kim on the shoulder and pointed at the floor. Kim’s eyes lowered. The kill floor was a literal sea of blood, pieces of internal organs, vomitus, and watery cow diarrhea. Jed tapped Kim again. Kim looked up. Jed was about to hand him a broom, when he saw the color of Kim’s face and that Kim’s cheeks were involuntarily billowing outward.
Jed took a cautionary step backward while hastily pointing off to the side.
Kim retched but managed to slap a hand to his face. He followed Jed’s pointing finger and saw a door with a crudely painted sign that read: GENTS.
Kim made a beeline for the bathroom. He yanked open the door and dashed to the sink. Leaning forward on the cold porcelain, he convulsively vomited up the breakfast he’d shared with Tracy that morning.