I Just Can't Let It Go

The lads were talking at work this morning about our supervisor. I'll call him ... Um, I'll call him ...

...

I can't even think of what to call him, Ms J. Every time I try to come up with a pseudonym, an obscenity pops out. I absolutely abhor this person. In Truth, there's no one (with the possible exception of Jesus and perhaps his own mother) who likes the guy. He's evil, this man. He is the devil incarnate. He's the man who cut thirty-four jobs, bringing fear and chaos to a contented workforce. He's the man who has meted out more discipline to more men and for less reason than any supervisor before him. He's the man who fired me unjustly last winter. And he appears proud of his accomplishments.

He's just doing his job, he'd say. Just following orders. Perhaps. But that's what the Nazi's claimed ... after they were caught.

This man ordered me suspended after I'd been involved in a red light incident. He ordered his underlings to attend my home, MY PRIVATE HOME, Ms J!, to fetch me like a common criminal and bring me back to work to submit to drug and alcohol testing. He held us for hours, separately and against our will, and refused to allow us to talk to each other until tests were completed and preliminary statements were taken. Later, they took more statements from us, individually. I was completely honest, believing that I had nothing to fear. I'd done nothing wrong, Ms J. I was a thousand feet away from the operating end of that train when the incident occurred. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it.

After a month of suspension, he phoned me.

"Can you come in to my office at 3:00 this afternoon, Dale? Your discipline has been decided."

I ate my lunch, then went straight to the church. I explained the situation to the preacher and asked if she'd pray for me. She held my trembling hands and we prayed together for peace, and for comfort, no matter how things turned out. I was calm as I drove to work that afternoon.

Angry Bob was the first to greet me as I entered the building.

"Hi ya Buddy! How's it going?"

"Not too well right now, Bobby," I told him. "I'm going into #%*&#'s office to get my discipline."

Bob's smile faded.

"Want me to go with you?"

I nodded and he put his arm around my shoulders. A few of the guys who were standing around came over to slap my back.

“You’ve had a real run of bad luck, eh Doc? Well, don’t worry. You’ll be alright.”

I smiled and thanked them and looked up at the clock on the wall. 3:00.

“Time to go, Bobby. You ready?”

“Yup. Let’s do it,” he said, and we headed down the hall to the office.

We found Mr. ***%# behind his desk and he looked up and smiled as he saw us. Smiled, Ms J.

“Is it OK if I sit in?” said Bob.

“Yes, of course,” we were told. “Here. Have a seat.”

Bob and I sat at a small round table and waited while the boss retrieved a page from his desk. I was aware of my breathing and heart rate. Both were normal. Slow and steady. I was glad I'd stopped at the church first.

“We’ve decided on dismissal, Dale,” he was saying as he placed the sheet of paper on our little table. “We feel you’ve tried to cover up things in the investigation. You’re being dismissed," and he pointed to the word on the page, “for the following reasons:”

He read the short paragraph and as he read it, I looked across the table at Bob. He was stunned but remained silent. The supervisor stood beside my chair and when he was finished speaking, I looked up into his eyes. Our eyes met and for a long moment, I stared at him. I saw not the slightest trace of remorse or humanity in his grey eyes. Nothing. It was as though he was dead in spirit.

“I’ll pray for you,” I thought, but said nothing.

He pointed then to the bottom of the page.

“I’d like you to sign here,” he said, “to prove that you’ve gotten this information.”

I shook my head solemnly and declined to sign anything. He used a ruler then to tear off the bottom portion. Bob grabbed the top half.

"Dismissal?" said Bob. "Don't you think that's a bit harsh?"

The supervisor was crossing the room to stand behind his oak desk.

"This is not the place for an appeal, Bob," he said.

“Let’s go, Bobby,” I said and stood and walked out the door. I didn’t look back.

Outside in the late afternoon sunshine, Bob stopped and looked at me.

"Are you OK?" he asked.

I bit my lip and nodded. But I really wasn't OK. I was numb. I had never dreamt I'd be fired.

"If you need anything ..." Bob was saying and his eyes filled with tears. "Fuck," he said. "If you need to talk or whatever ..."

My eyes were watering too and I headed for the car. I just wanted to be home.

"Yeah, I'm OK Bob," I said. "I'm just feeling ... I'm just feeling a lot of stuff right now. Thanks. But I want to go home."

---

That was a long time ago, Ms J. That was back in December of last year. I thought I might be able to put it behind me, but I cannot. I want to forgive that man for what he did to me and to my family, but I cannot.

I don't reckon I'll ever get over it. I'll never forget being called a liar and then dismissed. And despite my Christian beliefs, I may never forgive.

***