Waiting

We spent the rest of my holiday making plans and spending time with family and friends and spreading the news of our engagement. It was a good time, as I recall, but I knew that I had a long haul ahead of me. What was waiting for me in Ocean Falls was a good job, but a hotel room and no family or really close friends.

Life became very routine for me once again as I returned. I got almost daily up-dates on how the wedding plans were proceeding and I felt at such a disadvantage being so far away and having to leave all the work to Lis. But then again, had I been home, would I have really had a say in the flower arrangement for the 'head table' at the wedding reception? Increasingly, I was looking forward to being married, but somewhat dreading the wedding. I was recognising that each time I went 'home', I was experiencing some culture shock. Would I be a total social misfit by October?

One of my recollections of that summer of waiting was an incident at the mill. Everybody had to cross the bridge to get to work and just as you approached the bridge, there was a big sign giving the latest safety information, days without an injury, accident, death, etc. It was always the talk of the mill when something happened. These incidents usually happened when I was not there but that was not always to be.

In sight of my paper testing station, was a full view of newsprint Machine #2. When ever there was a 'break' or paper tear on one of the machines, the whole mill would shake, rattle and roll. I remember one time seeing a chunk of concrete fall from the ceiling. The noise and vibrations were very intimidating. They were having trouble with #2 machine and the paper kept breaking. Each time this happened, large sheets and chunks of paper would run through the stack, a vertical series of large steel rollers that compressed and finished the paper as it came out of the driers on huge rollers. There was a catwalk at the upper reaches of the stack where the machine tender could inspect the process and also where he had to be when the paper was re-wound into the stack after a break. I stepped out of the lab to get a better view, but always keeping well back to give the guys plenty of room to work. Time was critical because huge amounts of ruined paper would stack up under the machine when it was coming out of the machine in a broken state. I was watching the guy on the catwalk. There were large wads of paper caught in the stack and it was jumping like crazy. Machine tenders always carried a mahogany stick with them, similar to a billy club. They used this to tap the roll of paper as it wound onto the spool and they could tell by the sound of things if the paper was winding too tight or too loose. Adjustments on the tension would then be made. The guy on the stack was trying to push loose the wads of paper with his stick when suddenly the wad of paper flew out and the stick was being pulled in by the spinning spools of steel. He hung on tight, not wanting to lose the stick and his hand disappeared into the space between two steel spools. I was watching him at just the moment when he jerked his hand back. There was no stick, but no fingers either, only blood spurting onto the white paper making it look even worse than it was.

There was not even an attempt to retrieve the fingers because they would be smashed beyond recognition and would have immediately fallen into the 'beaters' below the machine where excess paper fell to be re-pulped. The young man was taken to the first aid station and I never saw him again.

I remember the big burly winderman coming into my lab shortly after the machine got running again and flippantly saying that this is what happens when you are 'stupid'.

I was hoping that I would not be 'stupid'. Would Lis still marry me if I was missing a body part or two?