All Day Wednesday Read online

  Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction March 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  ALL DAY WEDNESDAY

  Practically everybody would agree that this is Utopia....

  by RICHARD OLIN

  ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE SCHELLING

  * * * * *

  Ernie turned the dial on his television. The station he had selectedbrightened and the face of the set turned from dark to blue. Erniesipped his can of beer. He was alone in the room, and it was night.

  The picture steadied and Jory looked out of the set at him. Jory'sface was tired. He looked bad.

  "Hello, Ernie," Jory said.

  Ernie turned the dial to the next station.

  "Hello, Ernie," the face of Jory said.

  At the next spot on the dial: "Hello, Ernie." The next: "Hello,Ernie."

  There were five stations that Ernie's set was able to receive. Whenthe fifth station said "Hello, Ernie," and Jory's tired face lookedout at him, Ernie shrugged, took another sip from his can of beer andsat down to watch the set.

  That happened Wednesday night. Wednesday morning began like this:

  Ernie woke feeling bored. It seemed he was always bored these days. Anempty can of beer and a crumpled pack of cigarettes rested on top ofthe dead television. All he did nights was watch TV.

  Ernie sighed and thanked God that today was Wednesday. Tonight, whenhe came home from work, he would be over the hump ... only two daysleft and then the week end. Ernie didn't know for sure what he would_do_ on his week end--go bowling, maybe--but whatever he did it wassure to be better than staying home every night.

  Oh, he supposed he _could_ go out, just once in a while, during thework week. Some of the guys at the plant did. But then, the guys thatdid go out week nights weren't as sharp at their jobs as Ernie was.Sometimes they showed up late and pulled other stuff like that. Youcouldn't do things like that too often, Ernie thought virtuously. Notif it was a good job, a job that you wanted to keep. You had to besharp.

  Ernie smiled. _He_ was sharp. A growing feeling of virtue began toreplace his boredom.

  Ernie glanced at his watch and went sprawling out of his bed. He waslate. He didn't even have time for breakfast.

  His last thought, as he slammed out of his apartment, was an angryregret that he had not had time to pack a lunch. He would have to eatin the plant cafeteria again. Cafeteria lunches cost money. Moneyconcerned Ernie. It always did. But right now he was going to needmoney for the week end; payday was another week away.

  * * * * *

  Ernie punched in twelve minutes late.

  His foreman was waiting beside the time clock. He was a big man, andwhat was left of his red hair matched in color the skin of his neck.And the color of his face, when he grew angry.

  His name was Rogers. He smiled now as Ernie nervously pushed his timecard into the clock. His voice was warm and jovial as he spoke.

  "Well ... _good morning_, Mr. Stump. And did we have a nice, late,cozy little sleep-in this morning?"

  Ernie smiled uncertainly. "I'm sorry, Rogers. I know I'm late, but thetime just sort of got away from me--"

  Rogers laughed lightly. "Think nothing _of_ it, Mr. Stump. Thesethings happen, after all."

  "Uh, yeah. Well, like I said, I'm sorry and--"

  Rogers went on, unheeding. "Of course, complications can develop whenyour number three wrist-pin man decides that he just isn't feelingsharp this morning and he needs a little extra sleep to put him right.If you're the foreman for Sub-Assembly Line 3-A, for example, Mr.Stump, one wonders if the rush order that must be filled by thismorning is going to be finished any time before next Christmas. Onewonders where the wrist-pin man is, Mr. Stump. Does he intend to comein at all, or will he just snooze his little head off all day? Onewonders what to say to the plant manager, Mr. Stump. How do you tellhim that twenty men are standing idle on Sub-Assembly Line 3-Abecause, through a laughable oversight, there is no one to put in awrist-pin? How do you explain it so he will _understand_, Mr. Stump?"

  Rogers stopped and caught his breath. His face began growing red. Hesaid slowly, "You _don't_, Mr. Stump. You don't explain it so he willunderstand. I just tried!"

  Ernie swallowed. Hurriedly, he said, "Look I'm sorry. I'll get rightin there--"

  Rogers smiled. "That would be nice, Mr. Stump. I imagine there arequite a few Sub-Assembly 3-A's stacked up in there by now. You justtrot in there and get them cleaned up."

  Ernie nodded doubtfully. "You ain't mad?"

  Rogers' smile grew broader. "Mad, Mr. Stump? Why, being chewed out bythe manager is a trifle. It's something a foreman must expect. Ithappens to some of them every day--for a while. And when it does, itdoesn't matter because in just a little while they are no longerforemen. Sometimes, they aren't even workmen, any more. And then theyhave nothing at all to worry about, so don't let it concern you, Mr.Stump. Do you take the streetcar to work?"

  "Huh? Uh, yeah, I do."

  "I thought so." Rogers nodded his head benignly. "Well, just as asuggestion, the next time you see you're going to be late it might bebetter if you saved your car-fare and used it to buy a newspaper."

  Ernie smiled uncertainly. "O.K. Uh, why?"

  "Because," Rogers said slowly, no longer smiling, "the next time youleave me in a crack like that, you're going to be reading the 'HelpWanted' section! _Now get in there and get to work!_"

  Ernie did.

  He worked the rest of the morning in a sullen mood. For one thing,with the extra time that Rogers had taken up, Sub-Assembly Line 3-Awas a mess. Incomplete sub-assemblies were stacked on the floor allaround Ernie's spot on the line. He would have to pin them and slipthem into the production line as best he could.

  Next to him on the line, Broncewicz said: "Ernie, we'll never get thisjob out. Where were you?"

  And Ernie told him about the beef with Rogers. He worked as he talked,but the more he talked the angrier he got. Rogers had been unfair. Heasked Broncewicz, "How can anybody do a good job with that guy all thetime riding 'em?"

  Broncewicz nodded. "You should take it to the union."

  Ernie snorted. "That's a hot one. Rogers used to be our shop steward."

  "Yeah, I forgot." Broncewicz scratched at a hairy ear. "Anyway, youshould tell him off."

  "Yeah, I should tell...." Ernie laid aside a wrench to phrase exactlywhat he wished to say to Rogers, and the next sub-assembly slippedpast. Both he and Broncewicz grabbed it hastily.

  Unfortunately, Rogers happened to be watching. He walked over.Broncewicz became intently interested in his work. Ernie sighedresignedly.

  Rogers seemed surprisingly resigned, himself. All he said was, "Ithought you got enough sleep this morning, Stump. Wake up, get on thestick." He walked off.

  Broncewicz raised his head. "Hey, I thought you were going to tellhim?"

  "Aw, shut up."

  Ernie did not like his foreman, but neither did he like the prospectof losing his job. He couldn't afford to be out of work.

  The noon whistle blew as he was finishing the last of the extraassemblies. Ernie tossed his tools down and left the line.

  * * * * *

  The sight of the food in the cafeteria reminded him all over againthat he was spending too much money. His stomach had felt queasy. Itnow turned sour. Without looking at them, Ernie selected a plate offrankfurters and
spaghetti, picked up a carton of milk for the sake ofhis stomach, and sat down at the nearest table.

  Jory sat down beside him. "Joe's waving at you," he said, nodding atthe cashier at the end of the counter. "You forgot to pay."

  "What?" Ernie stomped over to the counter, threw down the money andreturned to his seat. To Jory he said: "I feel bad today."

  "Uh-huh," Jory said disinterestedly. He turned a page of the book hehad propped next to his plate.

  "Don't be a wise guy," Ernie grunted. He turned his attention to hisplate. Several mouthfuls of spaghetti convinced him that he was hungryafter all. He swallowed and opened his carton of milk. He looked up atthe book Jory was holding. Jory was a funny guy, always reading.

  "What's the book