The Fire in our Hearts

Lumber Room

“Your first order of business is here in the Lumber Room.” The man said sounding exceptionally bored. “Divide yourselves up into three groups.” We looked at each other hesitantly. “Quickly!” We then quickly got into pairs. I was with a boy named Leo who was short but broad-shouldered. “You will be carrying,” he gestured to Leo and me, “You two will be chopping, and you will be packing into those carts.” I looked around the room and saw three ‘stations.’ There was a massive pile of wood in the left side. By massive I mean the room was 20 feet tall and the lumber almost reached the top. There were stairs leading up and down from the top. Then there was a part that had a two-person saw.  And lastly metal bins with wheels. “Your shifts end at 8:00, at least three bins must be filled.” We nodded in understanding.
With fast feet we hurried to our stations. Leo and I clambered to the top of the pile. I picked up one of the piece of wood. It was exceptionally heavy; it probably weighed more than I. But gritting my teeth, I teetered down the stairs. Leo carried two at a time and I rolled my eyes as he passed by me smugly. My competitive spirit started to break through. I tried to pick up two but it was more likely my arms would stay than the wood would come. So deviously I came up with a plan. I started to roll the cylinder pieces down the stairs. Like this I managed three pieces and expedited the process immensely. Eventually, Leo joined me in this method and things went twice as fast. I hadn’t paid much attention of the other people in the room but once when Leo and I were working together to mange 9 pieces of wood I noticed the cutting team struggling. And I started to wonder what sector they came from. Probably they came from the richer ones where tools aren’t as abundant as in Sector 27, where I was from. “Do you know how to work that?” I said cautiously not wanting to offend them
“Well of course!” said the lanky boy.
“No, we don’t.” said the red-head. “Do you? It would be nice to actually work this thing correctly.”
“Yea, I’ve seen my dad and brother using it. But it’s two-person, does anyone else know how to do this?” I said looking around the room. Beck raised his hand and stepped forward. Swiftly, we showed them how to do it. Beck actually instructing them more than I which I was thankful for because I know most men doesn’t like to be told what to do especially by women. We went back to work and had already finished the first bin and a half. Now everyone seemed to be working harmoniously and by 7:00 we had finished three bins. DING DING DING. The noise of the bell reverberated throughout the Lumber Room and the clipboard man returned.
“5 carts. Impressive. You’re all dismissed. I assume you know your schedules.” We stood unresponsive and I ran over everything that had happened to me since I arrived at The Works. No schedule. His eyebrow arched higher on his wrinkly forehead, “Well?”
“We received no schedule, sir.” Beck spoke up.
“Ah I see.” He flipped pages on his clipboard. “For your first two weeks of work your schedule is: wake up at 5, report to the cafeteria at 6, report to your assigned workroom at 7, work till 12, report back to your workroom at 1, work till 8, the gates close at 10 and don’t open  until 7. So don’t get stuck outside. As Coals you are not allowed to leave the grounds unless with an older member of Heat Keeping. Now go to your dorms.”
“What happens after two weeks?” piped up someone from the back.
“The real work begins.” He said not looking up. “Go!” We scurried out of the room. The mood was excited but weary so most of the guys just went to their rooms. I returned to mine with Beck.
“Hey, do you mind helping move the other two beds so I can create a bit of a room?” I said realizing I would have to change clothes in the same room as him. He nodded and did as I asked. We moved the frames and mattresses to create a fort around my bed so I had some privacy. “How was your first day?” I chimed positioning myself so I was propped up over the ‘fort.’
“Dull.”
“Dull? I found it rather interesting.”
“That’s because everyone’s marveling your gender.” He said with a twinge of almost jealousy.
“You think I wanna be here?” I said insulted, “You think that since I just happen to be a little different, everyone’s going treat me differently?”
“I don’t know, that’s your own opinion and yes.” He said rolling on to his bed.
I scowled but started to wonder if he was right. Did I want to be here? Was everyone going to treat me different? Not on my watch. I was going to prove myself no matter what disadvantage or advantage. I lowered myself onto my pillow and decided I was happy to be here.