Sacred Space

The day collapsed into evening with a sigh of relief from the group. The workers were tired, not just from today, but from all the days that came before. Their hands were raw and chapped from exposure and dust particles flying up with each passing car. Some had splinters from the wooden posts they carried as they paced along the shoulder of the highway. LOCKED OUT, the signs read. It had been months of the strike with no end in sight. They watched as the season turned from winter to spring. From snow pants and extra gloves to sunglasses and on the warmer days even t-shirts. At the beginning there was outrage from the community, and the support from passing vehicles was heartwarming. Cars honked, good samaritans dropped off coffee and donuts, even pizza on one occasion. But the community was getting tired of the rolling strikes, and it was taking it’s toll on the morale of the workers too. First it was the teachers, then the nurses, and now the factory workers. It seemed to be an ongoing issue with different sections of the town, each group putting their lives on hold. Ali had mixed feelings about it. As the youngest in the crew and only one of two women she felt she had to stand her ground with the crew men. She didn’t want special treatment, and while some of those harsher winter days out on the picket line were enough to make her want to quit, she never would. She felt a camaraderie with what she now considered her group. The other woman, Marg, had spent her life as a factory worker, her skin weathered with age and stress and even her voice had deepened to that of the men’s. Ali on the other hand was Marg’s opposite; young, petite, fragile. Some of the men would shield her from the winds when they came, other times they’d offer her their coats or extra mitts. When it was her turn to lug the wood to the burn barrel someone usually stepped in to take her place. The only one that treated her the same as the others was Mack. When it was Ali’s turn to collect the signs at the end of the shift and place them in the back of the pick-up truck, Mack would joke “better you than me!” while he sat scrolling his phone. Something in the way he smirked when he said it made her understand that he wasn’t being a jerk, he was showing that he saw her as his equal. She had heard him say that very sentence the day before to Al, the elderly worker. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why it made her feel better about the situation, but it did.

As the warmth of the sky faded, Ali combed the shoulder of the road picking up any litter that had been left by the workers, or by cars passing by. She turned back to see Mack loading the signs into the truck. The men trickled away slowly, lingering for one last cigarette, listening to one last joke from Mack, and collecting their thoughts and dignity before heading home to face their families. It wasn’t lost on Ali how different her situation was compared to the rest of the crew, aside from Mack. The others had families to take care of. This job was their livelihood and had been for decades. If the factory shuts down they will have nowhere else to go. That feeling must be frightening with each passing day with no resolve from their union. Ali and Mack on the other hand had just entered the workforce. They could easily find work elsewhere if needed, but not at the pay they made here. It was just too lucrative to walk away just yet.

Ali piled the bag of litter into the back of the pickup and turned to the burn barrel they use to keep warm. She grabbed the water jug from the truck but as she went to put out the fire Mack yelled “not yet!” stopping her in her tracks. She turned to see if he had something he wanted to get rid of in the fire, an invoice maybe or some other paperwork with his personal information on that he no longer needed. Instead, he was walking towards her with two folding lawn chairs from the trunk of his car. “Stay awhile?” he grinned, and Ali couldn’t help but smile back. Mack was always coming up with crazy ideas and she really felt that his energy and presence was the one thing keeping the workers coming back each day. It was his gift, and she too was thankful for the airy way he carried himself. It was as if nothing could bother him. She had never seen him lose his temper, had never even seen him frown.

Mack pulled the lawn chairs up to the burn barrel and added a few more logs to keep it going. He motioned for Ali to sit and as her body collapsed into the chair she didn’t realize how much she needed that moment to rest her body from the long days. She watched the sky while Mack headed back to his car. The stars were starting to appear behind the pale veil of early evening light. The last of the workers pulled out of the parking lot with a wave and a honk. She turned to see Mack heading back to the barrel with a backpack and a guitar case. “I hope you like fireside singing?” He joked. While Ali couldn’t quite figure out what was happening, she felt an ease about her in Mack’s presence. If this were a date, while strange and seemingly planned (while at the same time appearing spontaneous) she was not nervous. Mack plunked his body down into the other lawn chair and reached into his bag to pull out a small plaid blanket which he motioned for Ali to take. “For your lap.” He smiled. “Wait you had these things in your car all day while we shivered in the wind?” Ali winked. “I can’t give away all my tricks.” He pushed his hair back off his forehead to reveal some soot from the firewood. Ali reached over and used her thumb to wipe the smudge. “I wanted that there.” He responded and together they laughed. Ali exhaled and looked up again at the stars. Life felt surreal in that moment. Cars passed few and far between but the drivers didn’t look at them. They were now used to the burn barrel, used to bodies huddled near it. It was as if they were invisible to the world. Mack reached into his backpack again and took out two red solo cups and a bottle of wine. “Is that merlot?” Ali asked with a laugh adding “either this was one smooth plan by you, or it’s a problem you need to seek help for and I should probably tell the supervisor.”

Mack poured two glasses of merlot into the cheap plastic cups and handed one to Ali. “This space has so much negative energy, all day, every day. I just wanted to do something to change that. Maybe by creating a nice memory we can help to move some of that negativity out. We can continue to come here every day, for as long as we have to, and smile at what we create here tonight.” He lifted his glass and they both said “Cheers”. Suddenly Ali felt her face feeling flush. That was the most profound thing she had ever heard. She was beginning to see Mack in a whole new light. She mistakenly took his airy demeanor as someone without much depth. She felt embarrassed by that now and her eyes lingered awhile on his. She swore the stars reflected in the deep blue of his iris’ may just be the universe in itself.

Mack picked up his guitar and began to serenade the space. He encouraged her to sing along and said together they’d change the vibration of this patch of Earth. They belted out Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds, and then Garth Brooks’ Standing Outside the Fire. Lastly Mack alone sang Angie by The Rolling Stones but each time the song mentioned Angie’s name he changed it to Ali. It took her breath away. She sat frozen with empty cup in hand and felt tears welling up in her eyes. It was so beautiful, so raw. And it had done just what Mack had planned. Suddenly this burn barrel on the side of the highway, at the entrance to their locked-out factory where fate had brought them to meet one another, to work alongside each other, was transformed into a sacred space. In the flicker of a flame and under the darkening of the sky, Ali found this place, and her heart, utterly transformed.

“You have a gift.” Ali said quietly when the song ended. She leaned over to kiss Mack. He dropped his cup, merlot spilling out onto the pavement, but he didn’t care.