The M Word by snodlander This Sentence Starts The Story contest entry |
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Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language. “Give me twenty.” Jeff held his hands high. “That’s just as funny as the first time you said it, Jeff.” Gordon didn’t even bother to turn around to see who was speaking. “Then why aren’t you laughing?” “Because it wasn’t funny the first time, and it’s just as funny now.” Gordon gave the wrench a final tug to make sure the bolt was secure. “Oh, relax. I was just –“ Gordon spun in his harness and snarled. “Don’t!” he shouted, pointing a hammer at Jeff. “Don’t you say it.” Jeff backed up a step and held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I was just going to say, I was only – ‘horsing’ around. Okay?” Gordon turned back to the rigging, slipping the hammer and wrench into his tool belt while scratching at his belly. He muttered an obscenity under his breath. “What did you call me?” “A comedian,” Gordon called back over his shoulder, and swung along the rigging until he was out of sight of the catwalk. Jean dropped onto a vertical pipe and slid down to Gordon’s level. “Harness,” said Gordon. “Ooh, who’s pissed in your cornflakes?” Jean clipped the tether onto a rail. “Happy? You going to report me?” “Yeah, yeah, sorry, but you should clip on. They’ll only dock your pay if they catch you.” “Okay, who is it this time?” She grabbed the rail in two hands and hugged his arm. “Tell your Aunty Jean.” “That arsehole Jeff.” “What’s he said now?” Gordon shrugged. “Nothing.” Jean tugged at his arm. “No, tell me.” “Give me twenty.” “Give me twenty?” Jean stared at Gordon for a moment, then laughed. “It’s not funny!” “Oh, I’m not laughing at that. I’m laughing at you.” “What?” “That’s all he said? And you let it get to you?” “Then he said he was only monkeying around.” “He said that?” “Yeah. Well, no. He was going to, but then he changed it to horsing around. But he was going to say it. I could tell.” “We’ll go to the tribunal.” “What?” “Well, someone makes a lame joke and then doesn’t say the M word. A sacking offence, that.” Gordon shoved her off his arm. Jean laughed, took a few paces along the rail and turned. “I’ve heard worse from my friends. I heard worse before I was four. You did too.” Jean jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “You want to go and whine to Chalky about how mean they are to you?” “Shut up.” “No, I mean it. You know what they did to him. Hearing how Jeff nearly said a mean word will put that into perspective for him, I’m sure. He’ll probably forget about having only one eye.” “It’s not the joke. Not just that. Not even the M word.” “Which he didn’t say.” “Which he nearly said. It’s everything, you know? The jokes, the snide comments, the way they look at us, like we’re just animals. Just – “ “Monkeys?” Gordon looked away. “Yeah. That.” “Honey, you think I don’t know? You think you got it bad? What about me?” Jean placed a palm on the side of the rig, let go of the rail with one foot and made an obscene gesture with it. “Want to know how many handjob comments I get in a week? In a day? This morning?” “It doesn’t make it right.” “Of course it doesn’t. But a person’s got to eat. Jeff’s an arsehole. Even plodders think he’s one. He thinks management should run a catwalk over the entire rig so his sort can do our job for ten times the price. At least there’s a good reason we don’t know who our father was. What’s his excuse?” For a fraction of a second Gordon smiled. “I mean, that’s it, really,” he said. “We’re as human as them. Human parents, even if we started in a test tube. All this M word stuff, it’s so demeaning, you know?” “Say it.” “What?” “Monkey. Say it. You’re not three. You don’t use words like wee-wee and poo. Don’t say M word. Say what you mean. Monkey.” Gordon stared down at the floor far below and shook his head. “It’s their word.” “Then make it yours. Say it. I’m a monkey, you’re a monkey. Say it, monkey. Say it.” “Monkey,” muttered Gordon. “Louder.” “Monkey,” he said. Jean sauntered over to him, prehensile feet gripping the rail. “There’s my proud monkey. Own it, monkey boy. If it’s yours, they can’t hurt you with it.” Gordon looked around. “They’ll sack you if they hear you saying it, you know.” “No. Only plodders get sacked for saying it.” “Then they’ll sack you for saying ‘plodder’.” “Not me. I’m too valuable. And gorgeous. They’ll just dock my pay. Besides, who’s going to report me? You?” She held her finger to her ear and listened for a moment. Hitting the transmit button, she said, “On my way, boss.” “Pressure drop on tower three,” she explained. “Don’t let the plodders get you down. What are you?” She unhooked her tether. “A monkey, And –“ Jean leaped into space and grabbed a spar with all four hands, a level below on the other side of the metal chasm. “ – use your tether,” he finished to himself.
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