A Place at the Table
18
The Stakes
Meredith
THE WEEKEND was not what I had hoped for. I thought I would meet Liam at the Rathskeller and have a nice night out. We would walk back to campus and I would drive out to Buxton House. And perhaps I would allow another kiss. Just one. Or two. One taste and I was already addicted.
But strikers pulled me off the street and held me hostage. For a few minutes. Then Liam had burst in like a knight in shining armor and nobly offered himself in exchange for me. The idiot! Didn’t he know a Leader was worth any number of Advisors? No. Of course not. To Liam, all people were worth the same. That was what made him a Leader. No other course of action would have been right.
I put him in this situation. I should have been more careful. Walked with a group instead of alone.
I made a call that was sitting on my list of things he needed. Food for hundreds of strikers.
“David Winzar’s residence. This is Jonathan. How may I help you?” Ah, so the Winzar also had a personal assistant.
“Hello, Jonathan. This is Meredith Sauvage. I’m Liam Cyning’s personal assistant and wonder if I might have a word with Mr. Winzar.”
“Of course, Miss Sauvage. I’ll get David.” I waited only a moment for David Winzar to come on the line.
“What a delight to meet you again, Meredith. How may I help you?”
“Do we know each other?”
“Meredith Sauvage, beautiful redhead assistant to Liam Cyning, efficiently cutting through the crowds of admirers and keeping him in tow.”
“Where have we met?”
“The party at Gamma Delta house. I’m sorry it was a brief introduction and I only gave my name as David. Now you know my secret,” he laughed. “I was trying to stay out of reach of the queen bee, so sadly I was unable to meet Liam.”
“I remember. You were there and then gone. I believe you were the only gentleman present.”
“I have other affections and try not to make an ass of myself in public. How can I help you today?”
“Liam has got himself into a bit of a bind and is calling on you as an independent Leader for assistance. Have you heard that he is being held hostage by the striking shoe workers?”
“No, I hadn’t. Do I need to go negotiate a release?”
“Nothing like that. He is, I believe, doing the negotiating. But the workers on the picket line are suffering. We’ve sent over sacks of carrots and apples anonymously, but the workers really need food. I thought perhaps you might know of a pizza delivery service that you could convince to send a hundred pizzas to the workers,” I said. I couldn’t simply ask him to buy a hundred pizzas, though I knew he probably would.
“I see. Things are that bad? I’ll have Jonathan go to work on it right away. They should be there by the evening meal. I hope we can all get together sometime in the near future. I’ll be eager to hear of his adventure behind the picket line.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged once this difficulty is behind us,” I said. “Thank you so much, Mr. Winzar.”
“Let’s have none of that. We were introduced by first name. Please continue to use it.”
“Thank you, David. Good day.”
I disconnected, knowing that bit was done. I remembered David as a handsome and pleasant gentleman who might have been the only one in attendance I would have considered going out with. Well, Liam would have pizzas by Sunday dinner. Now what else could I do for him?
Liam
ERICH ARRIVED with the report and my ski jacket and stocking cap. In addition, he had several bags of apples and carrots. The pickets closed around the car when he told them what he had and shielded a line of people carrying food into the heart of their camp. Erich told them it had come from a friend of a friend. He didn’t speak to me but gave a nod in my direction.
I hurried back to where the fires were burning and sat to read the annual report. What I read was staggering. It was impossible to conceive of a company which made so much money and had workers so poorly cared for. I had very little experience with these things but I was certain my father treated his employees better than this.
“Randy, there’s a reporter at the front line who says she wants to interview you. Also wants to verify that Mr. Cyning is being treated well.” Randy looked up from where we were studying the report. Davy from the slip-on loafer line was pointing back toward the pickets. Randy glanced at me and I subtly nodded.
“Right. Well, you say she? Is she alone?”
“She has a guy with her she says is her photographer.”
“Okay. Bring them both back here.” Davy turned and left. “What are we going to do?” Randy asked me.
“You, my friend, are going to greet her cordially and be as eloquent as you can be as she asks you questions. The same as you have been with me. I’ve just been getting you ready for this. Whatever happens, it’s important that you not take offense at anything she suggests and that you answer her questions fully. But avoid the specific demands. This and a few photos of how we are subsisting out here will be in the Monday newspaper. Probably front page. Up to this time, you haven’t received the coverage you should have. Tomorrow, everyone will know why you are picketing the factory.”
“I get nervous around people of upper classes.” Randy wiped his hands on his knees.
“There are no upper classes, Randy. We all have the fundamental rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That some classes claim other privileges based on their wealth does not make them better than you.”
“Here she is, Randy.” The crowd parted and a woman and her young male photographer came into the circle. I winced as I recognized the photographer.
“What? Don’t any of you have any manners? No introductions? Did you even ask her name?” All the workers stepped back a step and Randy went directly to the woman. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. We’re not used to seeing people we don’t know back here. I’m Randy Peters. I guess you could say I’m the union boss as that’s the role my fellow employees have thrust upon me.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Peters. I’m Angela Ritter. This novice with me is my new photographer, Lonnie ah… Ward.” I breathed a sigh of relief that my friend had not been identified by the correct last name. Senator Porras had as high a profile in the city as the Cynings did. I wondered how Lonnie had been roped into this and by whom. Then the woman’s name sank in. Ritter, as in Susan Ritter, Lonnie’s girlfriend.
“We don’t have much in the way of furniture, I’m afraid. Would you care to have a seat on one of our folding chairs? Careful. It’s a little wobbly.” Angela took the proffered seat, sitting on the edge, possibly not putting any weight on the chair at all. She glanced at me but kept her attention focused on Randy.
“Thank you for seeing me. I’m a reporter and have deadlines to meet. So, if you don’t mind, can we get directly started?”
Randy nodded to her. “We know a bit about working under pressure. Please go ahead.”
“We’ve not seen a strike in our city in many years. Can you tell me what inspired it?” Randy told about having sent a letter on behalf of the employees to the management and that he had been fired. When he cleared out his locker to leave, all the other employees had followed him. “You must have quite a leadership talent to convince them of that.”
“Please, ma’am. I’m just a shoe-laster from the Dexter class. We’ve been told all our lives that we have no leadership ability.”
“Really? What are the demands that you presented to the management which they found so heinous they would fire you?”
“It’s a simple list, ma’am. We’re falling behind the economy. We simply want to increase our wages to a living level. Second, we need time off when we are sick. We lost a beloved co-worker last year who literally worked herself to death because she couldn’t afford not to work while she was sick. We believe machinery and equipment in the plant has suffered from lack of maintenance. This includes chairs for the breakroom, like the one you are carefully sitting on now, but also manufacturing equipment on which safety mechanisms have been broken or disabled. Wouldn’t you think a company would want to take care of its own equipment? And finally, we make these shoes and we are proud of them. But none of us can afford to buy a pair. We end up purchasing inferior shoes made by our competitors. Don’t you think it would be good for the company to have its employees wearing their product?”
“You are asking excellent questions. Let’s delve a little deeper into each of these and into the company’s response.” Angela was an expert at interviewing and I was glad I’d briefed Randy so fully. But the union leader was handling himself naturally.
“Anything I can do for you?” Lonnie whispered after he’d worked himself nearer to me without appearing to pay attention to me. He raised the camera and clicked another picture of Randy.
“I’m glad to see you. As it happens, it looks like I’m going to need a lawyer.”
“Have you committed a crime?” Lonnie couldn’t keep amazement from his voice.
“No. Nothing like that. This needs to be a contract lawyer who’ll work pro bono on behalf of the union to write and/or check any agreement proposed.”
“You don’t ask for much, do you? Geez!” Lonnie looked to make sure his reaction hadn’t been noticed by anyone else. Angela was intent on Randy as he explained how much previous wage increases had been and what they were told about this year’s lack. “If I pull this off, you’re really going to owe me.”
“I’ll forgive you for all the terrible dating advice you’ve given me.” We both choked back a laugh and Lonnie moved to a different photo angle.
“Now, I really need one last thing, Mr. Peters. May I see and speak to Mr. Cyning to assure our readers that he has not been harmed?”
“Of course, Mrs. Ritter. He’s been sitting just behind you all this time. Mr. Cyning, would you be kind enough to answer a question from Mrs. Ritter?”
“Certainly.” I stood and approached Mrs. Ritter.
“This seems to be a pretty mess you’ve gotten into. Have you been treated well here?”
“I believe my treatment is no worse and probably no better than the way everyone who walks the picket line is treated. Should I ask for better than that?”
“And where do you sleep at night?”
“Over there. The workers build fires in the drums you see at night. It’s getting pretty cold out and they need to take breaks from walking the line to get warm and sometimes to sleep a bit.”
“Where is your bed?”
“Would it be proper of me to ask for a bed when everyone around me sleeps on the ground? My jacket is probably warmer than theirs.”
Just at that time there was a commotion and Davy came back.
“Randy, there’s a pizza delivery truck here. He says he has a hundred pizzas for us.”
“What? Who ordered that?”
“No one! It says it comes with compliments from David Winzar of Richmond, Virginia’s House Winzar. I think that means he’s a Leader.”
“Mr. Cyning? Are Leaders banding together to pressure the company?” Angela demanded.
“I’ve never met this person,” I said, not needing to feign surprise. Then a thought struck me. “Wait. I’ve been reading the company’s annual report. Fascinating reading by the way.” I picked up the report and began leafing through the pages. “Hmm. Here it is. According to the annual report, Covington Shoe Company faces vigorous competition from three companies. Look. One of them is Dominion Footwear of Richmond, Virginia.” I tapped the report.
“Why would a Leader from the area of Dominion Footwear be sending support to the strikers of… Ah! I see,” Angela quickly noted the names on her pad.
“It might only be a gesture of goodwill. I could make some calls to find out if a similar situation has occurred there and he’s hoping we resolve this one in like manner. After this one is resolved, I mean.” Or my brilliant personal assistant might have contacted him and sold him on the idea of helping out another Leader.
“Or he might be hoping to prolong the strike to give his local company an edge.” Lonnie took pictures of the pizzas arriving and being distributed among the workers. One shoved a box at me.
“You eat, too.”
Angela collected Lonnie and pushed him ahead of her as they left.
“What’s the bottom line?” Randy and I had been talking well into the night again and I was even more impressed with Randy’s sharp mind.
“Meaning?”
“What would it really take to walk away from the strike with everyone here feeling like they’d won?”
“I don’t think that’s possible. There are some who wouldn’t be satisfied if they doubled all our salaries and gave us six months paid vacation.” The men laughed and a few of those standing around tossed out names of people who fell into that category. Randy looked at one of them and motioned him over. “And there are those who would be perfectly happy if the company just said ‘Come back to work and we’ll forget this all happened.’ Bob?” He looked up at the worker who had joined them.
“That would be me. I didn’t want to strike in the first place, but I won’t go against my friends on this. I’d never cross the picket lines. Things are getting pretty tight around my house. Them carrots and apples that showed up this morning? I’ve tossed a few in my bag to take home to the missus and kiddos. I don’t want them to suffer any more than they have to.”
“I wish it was in my power to provide for you all. No matter what you hear about the wealth of my family, neither I nor my counterpart who sent pizzas could make up what you are losing during the strike. It would take a Promoter to do that! And he’d want you to work in a factory.” The guys all laughed. “So, those are the extremes. What would get most of the guys out here to go back to work next week and say, ‘We won!’ I need to know where the bargaining begins.”
“I think our original list of requests is pretty close. I suppose if the wage increase came down a nickel, we’d accept that. If the safety standards were met on the machines, we’d manage to sit on the floor in the break room. We’ve lived for years not wearing our own shoes. I don’t think we’d miss them in the future. The sick days, though, that’s not an option. The wound of Molly’s death is still raw and open. There was nearly a walkout that day.”
“So, you’d sacrifice a little of the other demands in order to get that one. That’s good. It shows you’re already thinking of negotiating. What I’d like to do is set the starting bar a little higher. According to the annual report, the company is cash-rich and highly profitable. There is no reason I can think of that they wouldn’t give a wage increase. It says here there are 6,000 employees. The company had $400 million in profitability last year. This request only comes to about three percent of their net profit. I think we can double that. Now, keep in mind this significant point of negotiating: Our initial offer has to be higher than the company will go but still sound reasonable. They will automatically come back with a lower offer. So, we don’t want to start at the bottom line or we’ll walk away losing. I think we should start with a dollar an hour wage increase. If we have to back off all the way to a quarter, we still win, right?”
“Clever. I get it. We have to give the company room to dicker.”
“Right. Now as to the furnishings, how many people use the breakroom? It must be enormous.”
“No. Most people go outside and eat on the bumpers of their cars—or in their cars if the weather is bad. And there are four breakrooms. The worse the furniture in them gets, the better a car looks. The real bottom line, though, is getting the safety equipment fixed.”
“We’ve got that. But someone is going to get injured when one of these chairs collapses. An on-the-job injury is different than being sick and not having time off. If you have witnesses that say you were doing nothing wrong, the company could end up in a lot of financial trouble. We’ll position this as saving the company from liability suits and ask that the breakroom be expanded to include a cafeteria where people can buy meals and have a nice place to eat their lunch. I don’t think we’ll get a cafeteria but we might get a larger breakroom or even some shelters outside with picnic tables.”
“I’d never have thought of something like that. I’m not sure we should let the guys see this list before the bargaining starts. It’ll raise their expectations and then they’ll feel like they’ve lost when we get what we originally asked for.”
“You’re being smart, Randy. That’s exactly what we don’t want to happen. Sick time is a non-negotiable item, so let’s build something around it we’re willing to sacrifice. How about we ask for two weeks of sick time and two weeks of vacation time each year? Let me get these thoughts down. I think you’re leaving more on the table than you intended to and we should make sure we’ve covered everything.”
When I was finished, the list was longer than Randy’s original list. Randy wondered at it but agreed to take it home for his wife to type up. I slept another uncomfortable night on the ground, but at least my ski jacket kept me warmer.
“Mr. Cyning,” Davy said as he approached. “A Mr. Erich just showed up and told us to bring you the newspaper. Said it was important. He brought us sacks of oranges, too. Nice guy.”
“Thank you, Davy. If Erich considered it important enough to get me the newspaper at this hour, I should look at it.” Davy handed me the paper and began peeling an orange. I sat to read. The article was on the front page with a four-column photo that caught Randy, Mrs. Ritter, and me all in a good composition. I might need to compliment Lonnie on his photographic skills. I looked up at Davy. “Is Randy around?”
“He’s out walking the line. That’s one thing about Randy. He’s our boss but whatever we need to do, he does, too.”
“He should see this. Can you ask him to come here? He needs to see this. I don’t think I should be seen out there, though.”
“Right. Be right back.”
I finished the article and nodded just as Davy returned with Randy.
“What’s up?”
“The article from your interview is in this morning’s newspaper. Mrs. Ritter was diligent in following up. She interviewed both Mr. Ferguson and Mr. Winzar.” I handed the newspaper to Randy and turned to Davy. “Is Erich still waiting?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I need to get a note to him. Randy, it looks like we are going to the negotiating table.”
“This is stupid! He says he can’t get in touch with us and if we don’t turn up at the bargaining table in the board room tomorrow morning, he’ll assume the strike is over and we should go back to work. He didn’t try to get a message to us!”
“No, of course not. He’s using the news to do his messaging. How many of you usually read the newspaper?”
“I do but I left the house before it got there this morning.”
“He might have counted on no one seeing the message and then would have told the papers he tried but you didn’t show up.”
“What do we do?”
“I need to get this note to Erich.” Randy looked over my shoulder.
“Gray suit, white shirt, red tie, and new Covington shoes? What…?”
“Do you have a suit, Randy?”
“Well, yes. We usually go to church on Sunday. Not always but pretty regular.”
“You’ll need to wear it tomorrow for the bargaining session. Did you get the new letter typed up?”
“Yes. Sally, my wife, was very impressed and I explained the reasoning that it wasn’t really what we were going to get but was what we would start bargaining with. She was a little disappointed.”
“That’s why we aren’t spreading it around. I need my suit as well.”
“You wouldn’t put a good suit on without showering, would you? We need to get you cleaned up. Davy, take the note to that Erich guy. Are we ready for this, Liam?”
“I don’t know. We need to study the notes and think of every question Mr. Ferguson might ask.”
“Why would he ask any questions? Doesn’t he just tell us what he’ll do?”
“Not the way he thinks. He’ll start by asking questions and try to get you to admit that what you have written isn’t what he should give you.”
“I can’t do this, Liam. I don’t have any experience or know anything about negotiating.” I looked at my friend. I thought I had instilled enough confidence in Randy to get him through this, but the man was out of his depth. “Can’t you negotiate this for us?” It was what I wanted to do but I didn’t want to suggest they couldn’t do it for themselves. The idea of going head-to-head with Fergie excited me. Did I really have it in me to do a labor contract negotiation?
“Randy, I can be the spokesperson if you want, but you need to be right beside me. Every time he asks a question, I’ll quietly consult with you. Then I’ll answer his question. That way he’ll know you are the one calling the shots.”
“I trust you but I see why he needs to think it’s me. I wish I could do this.”
“You’ll get more experience. Me? I’ve been in school all my life. I’ve been educated to do this but don’t have any experience either. We’ll get through it together.”
I came up with every question I could think of and Randy helped compose answers. I wasn’t sure how we could prepare any better.
“Randy, Mr. Cyning. There’s a gentleman and a lady to see you. Should we let him through?” Davy had become the official runner between Randy and anyone else who was needed.
“Did he say who he was and what he wanted?”
“Just said he’s a lawyer.”
I silently blessed Lonnie. “He’s expected.”
“And the lady?”
“Probably his stenographer.”
A few moments later the two approached. The lawyer carried a briefcase and his companion carried a small case I identified as a portable typewriter.
“Mr. Peters. Mr. Cyning. I’m Alfred Smith, attorney at law. This is my secretary, Miss Loveland.” I nudged Randy so he’d take the lead.
“I’m Randy Peters and this is Liam Cyning. I guess you know that. What can we do for you?”
“I’m here to help you, I hope. A mutual friend suggested you were going to need a contract lawyer. I’m here to offer my services.”
“We don’t have the money for a lawyer.” Randy shuffled his feet.
“This is a pro bono offer. Uh… I shouldn’t just use legal terms. Sorry. It means we’re doing it for goodwill. I mean for free.”
“Thank you for your consideration, but I understood the term. Liam? What’s this about?” Randy asked.
“We’ll need a signed agreement when we leave the bargaining table. It’s the only guarantee we’ll have that they’ll honor what we agree to. Mr. Smith has kindly offered to provide the service of drafting it,” I said.
“This is all overwhelming. Thank you, both. All three,” Randy said.
“Right. I was told you have a typed document with the demands.”
“Rick. Paul. Clear the card table so Miss Loveland can use her typewriter. We’ve got work to be done before morning. Do we have four chairs that are safe?” Randy called out.
People scurried around getting a couple more chairs and clearing the table. It was a little wobbly but Miss Loveland pronounced it good enough.
Randy and I sat opposite Smith as he read the typed page of new demands.
“This is good. It has the all basic words in it. Miss Loveland, please type another copy with two carbons. Now, who is going to negotiate?”
I raised my hand. “I’m afraid that privilege falls to me.”
“You’re young but Lonnie tells me you’ve been trained for this. Understand that you can turn to consult with me at any point. In fact, if you just need a minute to consider something, turn to me and take a minute. Don’t feel forced to respond instantly and don’t stammer around while organizing yourself. Silence is better than stuttering.”
“Thank you for the advice. Good reminders.” I’d heard all this in various courses but hearing a lawyer give the same advice reinforced the concepts and brought them to the fore. “How will we handle the contract terms?”
“Miss Loveland is an expert stenographer. She’ll use shorthand to keep track of everything said in the meeting. We’ll also keep notes. During our breaks, she’ll type up the terms agreed upon and I’ll start drafting the contract. It will take between half an hour and an hour to have copies of your contract prepared after the meeting concludes. I’m anticipating they won’t have prepared for a formal agreement because they assume that meeting with you is all they need to do to satisfy the strike. I would guess Mr. Ferguson has prepared ‘a stern talking-to’ for his part of the meeting.”
“My objective is a win-win. Can we keep the agreement phrased in non-inflammatory words?”
“Absolutely. Now let’s look at the parts of the contract and how we want them worded.”
It was a difficult afternoon and evening as we hammered out acceptable phrasing for each of the articles we wanted in the agreement. At the end of the evening, all we needed was to fill in the blanks with the final terms.
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