It seems an apt term, the Graveyard shift, I always thought it was a funny way to describe those hours between midnight and dawn, now though, I understand how fitting that term is. Due to down-sizing and greed, I am working 2pm to midnight most nights, and at ten-thirty, they start drifting in, those pale skinned figures with red-rimmed eyes. I take my last break at ten, sometimes a bit later if I get hung up with some project, but I always know when one of them is in. The first thing to go is the lights…they like it dark, if one of us day shifters happen to walk in and turn on the lights…you hear them yell, “shut off the damn lights!” and they all cover their heads like the light is burning them, so we started calling them vampires, as a joke…but they liked it, so the name stuck.
The night people are different from the day shifters…they don’t talk or joke much; they usually just sit drinking Starbuck coffee from the all night café. I laughed about that, thought it was kind of funny, vampires drinking starbucks...caught my off key sense of humor. They stare a lot too, at the day shifters, looking at them through the glass window that leads to the main lounge. The glow from their cigarettes glint in their eyes like tiny red flints…makes them look weird.
I like the dark, always have, so their strange habit doesn’t bother me, I figure it’s their world after ten, I am only here a few more hours, doesn’t matter to me. Even the music changes after they come in…that annoying elevator music goes off, and the sound of moody blues or soft jazz comes on, and it’s loud…like they are trying to cover up the silence or something. Their lingo is different from ours, but I caught the drift after a while, one would snarl…”I feel crunky…” and the others would nod like they understood…I didn’t at first. I mean what the hell is “crunky?” but later I got it...it meant they were agitated…they wanted to kill something…vampires….getting crunky…didn’t sound good to me. I sat in my corner and watched them, they don’t talk or act like day shifters… they don’t wave their arms or motion with their hands when they talk, they don’t talk loud either, and they rarely finish a sentence...but everyone seems to get the drift. I get the feeling they don’t use their mouths much, and I play with the notion that maybe they mind talk, telepathy you know…it’s the way they look at each other without speaking, and then one of them will nod…or look at something outside the fishbowl window…and then they smile, but it’s a feral smile…all teeth, no light shinning in their eyes…kinda creepy.
Every now and again one of the day shifters has to pull a night shift, and they come in flash on the lights and start talking loud and annoyingly…Alain usually gets up and turns them out again and then stands there glaring at the intruder until they shut up. They usually get the message and leave feeling pretty uncomfortable. I been there a few times when it happened, I had to hide my smile behind my hand, it was pretty funny, not many people have the balls to mess with Alain. Needless to say, the day shift doesn’t like the night people too much. They are a different breed…vampires…ha ha…
Alain, I should try to describe him, but I don’t think I can do him justice. He has long black hair and a strong face…not really handsome…not ugly, just strong. Grey eyes, hard to picture unless you’ve seem them. He wears black like most of them do, guess they don’t like color any better than they like light, maybe they like to blend in with the shadows, who can figure what goes on in the mind of vampires? He is strong as hell, has to be, he works the bins, and the freight, lifting 100 pounds like its ten. His muscles bulge under his shirt, and the sleeves are always too tight so he rolls them up, which makes him look like that muscle man painted on the circus tent, the one holding the elephant with one hand. Alain runs the graveyard shift, when he gets up, they all get up and leave with him, he always speaks in a low soft voice, almost guttural, spooky, and they all look at the floor or the wall when he talks, never at him, I always thought that was pretty strange. It’s just the opposite on the day shift. When one of the bosses speaks, everyone tries to be first to kiss his ass, here they don’t even respond, just move silently on to do what ever it is he is telling them.
Tara’s his co-manager; she is just as strange looking, but in such an opposite way that they make a striking team. She has long white hair, yes white, like one of those well kept elderly ladies you see shopping at the higher priced stores. But Tara can’t be older than thirty, and her eyes are lion colored, no other way to describe them, kind of yellowish-brown…tawny colored…strange. I am thinking it must be some kind of requirement, to look so different from the norm, maybe that’s why they work this shift; to get away from everyday people…She was the first one I met when I started this late shift. I was sitting in the small break room, I don’t like noise, and the main lounge is pretty crowded and loud. She came in and automatically shut off the lights, then saw me sitting there, and asked me if I minded. I said no, its all good to me, I don’t like the light much either. The first few weeks we sat there, not talking. When the others started drifting in, I would leave, it was getting too crowded for me. She noticed that and mentioned it one night. I conceded I didn’t much care for being around people. That was why I worked in the backroom. I like being alone. She nodded like she understood and smiled. She was pretty when she smiled; she wasn’t as scary looking, ha ha…
I could see she wanted to ask me why I was suddenly working this shift, but I didn’t feel like explaining, she nodded like she understood, and went on smoking. I had the strangest feeling that she had heard what I was thinking, and I looked at her face, she smiled and nodded again, then tapped her cigarette in the ashtray. I raised my eyebrows…what the hell? Then Alain came in and they looked at each other then at me. Alain smiled, and nodded at her. I was thinking, what the hell is going on here? It’s a joke right? They can’t really be freaking vampires. Tara laughed and her eyes glinted, she tapped her cigarette again and stared at me some more. I felt like lunch. Uh hun, well now, time to get the hell out of here. I must be more tired than I thought I was. I was going out the door when Tara said, “hey now, if you need help give me call.” “Yeah, I will,” I said automatically, before I realized…I hadn’t told her what I was working on…
Tantalizing suspense, dead-on imagery, and flawlessly fluid narration serve to make THE GRAVEYARD SHIFT and exemplary write. The "reader interruptus" ending is just right and definitely leaves one eager for what follows. Great story-telling on every level. Peace--
Aberjhani
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
6/24/2005
More white space, yes, me too, Susan. An extra space between each paragraph would keep the lines from all running together.
Reviewed by Susan Barton
6/24/2005
great story! It would be better for me with more white space.
Creepy; like the imagery and simile "like muscle man painted on a circus tent." Good descriptions; can actually feel my skin crawl as I read your piece.
The Wholly Book of Exodus is humorous adult literature that features adult language, situations and content. It is the companion book of Jay Dubya's The Wholly Book of Genesis that satires the entire first book of the Bible.
The Wholly Book
The Grave Yard Shift
