Woody Tarkenson

“Yeah, I knew Woody Tarkenson when he worked here.” Drew Jessup answered the reporter’s question with that frosty glare he was known for during most of his time at the textile plant. Drew was the foreman of the Steamer Section where Woody had worked running the steamer machine during his shift. Drew retired shortly after Woody’s accident. “Lemme tell ya, there was something about that kid that still sticks with me.”

“And what was that?” The reporter smiled as he picked up his pad and pen.

“He was weak and pale when he first came to work for Montgomery’s Textiles. He seemed to be all thumbs, if you know what I mean.” Drew shrugged as the report nodded as he wrote that in his pad.

“Tell me about it.” The reporter urged.

“Boss, there’s a new guy on his way over.” Walt Krammer stuck his head into the small enclave I called an office. Sometimes I needed to get away from the noise of over fifty steamers running simultaneously. You see, I suffered from frequent migraines I blamed on the noise of them big machines.

Running the machines was paramount to the factory’s production quota. Steamers as the workers were called who worked here would place the finished product on the hangers inside. The machine operator would bring down the the hood which was a large iron cast dome. The dome would lock and steam would fill the enclose chamber. When finished a bell would ring. The machine operator would unlock the dome. Once the dome had risen, the steamed textiles was removed and put in a wheeled cart where someone would the cart to folding and packaging. Usually women worked in the Folding and Packaging Section since most of them were detailed oriented whereas the men tended to be a bit sloppy. Men were better suited for locking and lifting the heavy hood of the machines in the Steam Section. I know that a bit sexist, but hell, that was the way things were back then.

Temperatures inside the steaming machines could reach close to five hundred degrees. It was considered dangerous, but there were warning signs posted every few feet. I see guys lose a few finger bringing down them hoods. It was hard, dangerous work for sure. If you touched the hood during steaming, you would scald your hand. I sent lot of guys to the hospital with really bad burns. That’s why you had to grab the handle, not the hood. I did it once when I was an operator.

“What’s your name, son?” I asked as I had him sit in the chair in front of my desk.

“Woody.” He answered in with a breathy voice. His face was narrow. It seemed to have been put together rather sloppily even though his smile seemed to big for his face.

“You wearing steel toed boots?” I asked squinting as I tried to see for myself.

“Yessir.” He nodded toward the new boots on his feet.

“I’m gonna have ya work with Torry Smith.” I decided Torry was just the kind of guy who could ease Woody along. I walked to the door, stuck my head out and called for Torry.

“What’s up boss?” He appeared in the doorway.

“I wancha to work with the new guy.” I nodded my head toward Woody.

“Sure.” He shrugged.

“His name is Woody Tarkenson.” I put my hand on his shoulder and I swore I could feel every one of his bones where I lay my hand.

Torry looked down at the new guy sitting in the chair, and I could tell by his expression, he had many doubts, but he held his tongue.

“Son, you listen to everything Torry tells you to do.” I sat at the edge of my desk.

“Sure thing.” He nodded as he stood up. Taking one last look at him as he followed Torry out on the floor, I wondered how much he could take. The job wasn’t easy. It took a lot of guys like Torry sometimes. I would watch him from the windows in my office.

The first time I saw Woody do it. I did a doubletake. It was just before the morning break when Woody flat out disappeared. I walked quickly out of my office to where Torry was unloading a load from the steamer. 

“Where’s Woody?” I asked.

“He told me he had to go to the head.” He shrugged one shoulder as he put the material in a cart. “Drew, you look as if you seen a ghost.”

“I might have.” I shook my head as Wood came strolling down the aisle. “How’s it going?”

“Great. Torry is showing me the ropes.” He smiled, but there was something wrong with his overlapping smile. Even his eyes looked as if they were taken off a Picaso painting. I figured maybe it was time for me to take a vacation. Our production numbers were off and a lot of the supervisors were starting to fell the pressure. As I sat in my office going over our production numbers. I kept glancing up to see what Woody was up to. There was nothing unusual to report and I began to feel that the strain had made me start seeing things.

“He’s a good kid.” Torry reported when his shift was over. Woody had already disappeared. I mean he had clocked out and left the building, “I think he’ll work out despite his size.”

“Was he able to bring the hood down?” I asked.

“Yeah. He was.” Torry tilted his head, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“As a matter of fact there is.” I had wondered if I should tell him, but I had crossed the point of no return, “When I was watching, Woody disappeared.”

He chuckled, “You mean like a ghost?”    

“Exactly like a ghost.” I ran my hand over my thinning hair. “He was there one second and he was gone the next.”

“Sorry if I did not witness that.” Torry said, “He asked me if he could use the restroom. And I told him where they were.”

“I swear I saw him vanish.” I flopped in my chair.

“Maybe you outta go get some refreshments down at Ernie’s.” He suggested. Ernie’s was across the street from the factory. After a hard day, a lot of the guys would go there to knock back a few. I had done so on occasion, but I was afraid I’d knock back more than my share. My daughter Tessa would sometimes come and pick me up. She was going to college nearby and did not like it when she had to come get me. Once in frustration, she told me drinking was a young man’s sport. I had to agree when the morning came and my body felt as if had run into a brick wall.

When I walked out that evening, I decided that Torry was right and so I walked in the front door of Ernie’s.

“Drew, what can I getcha.” Harry the bartender asked.

“My usual.” I put my hands in front of me as I sat at the bar.

“Rough day?’ He asked as he put some Coke into a shot of Jim Beam.

“It was unusual.” I put my hand around the glass and took a sip. I figured if I took it show, I wouldn’t have to call Tessa. She had midterms coming up. Ever since her mother passed away, she felt as if she had to watch over me. When Rose passed away, it was like I became a child all over again. I hated myself for it, but it seemed like it was the only road left open to me.

“How so?” He held out his hands.

“New guy.” I sniffed.

“Is he weird?” Harry chuckled.

“It’s not that.” I hesitated.

“Is he a whiner? I know you hate whiners.” Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

“No. Not a whiner either.” I wasn’t sure if I could tell Harry. He like to chat and sometimes discretion was the better part of valor.

When I called Tessa, she was not happy with me.

“Dad, you can’t just call me out of the blue.” She began to lecture me.

“I am sorry, sweetheart, but I’m having a hard times these days.” I pleaded.

“So am I.” She shook her head. “Dad, maybe you should retire.”

“After all you mother’s medical bills, my savings are tapped.” I confessed as I fought off the tears.

“Stop it, dad. You are making me feel like an asshole.” She stopped in front of the house.

“I love you.” I told her as I opened my door and stumbled toward the house. “I will try to refrain myself from now on.”

“Just be yourself.” She smiled as she shook her head. I managed to get inside. She waited a minute before driving away.

He did it again the next day. Torry had gone to help someone unjam their machine and Woody vanished. There was no mistaking it this time. It was my eyes or the production pressure.  He disappeared plain and simple.

“Have you seen Woody?” Torry asked poking his head in the open door.

“He was there one second and gone the next.” I cleared my throat.

“Ah, you think he disappeared like a ghost.” Torry laughed.

“Okay, I’m crazy. My cheese has slipped off my cracker. I have lost my marbles.” I said as my temper elevated.

“Easy, boss.” He held out his hand.

“Sorry.” I rubbed my eyes. “I saw him and then I didn’t.”

“There he is.” Torry pointed as if Woody had been there all the time. “He might have been loading the machine.”

“I saw him vanish.” I shook my aching head. “I don’t know what he’s up to, but I am gonna find out.”

I walked out of my office and right up to Woody.

“Yessir.” He straightened up when he saw me approaching. 

“What is up with you?” I asked pointing my finger at his chest.

“Whadda mean?”

“I saw you disappear.” I squinted at him as I tilted my head.

He opened him, but no words came out. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. With what appeared to be restraint, he words came out slowly as ifhe had chosen everyone carefully.

“You can’t tell anyone.” His voice lowered to a growl.

“Why? What is the deal?”

“It is something I inherited from my grandmother.” He was literally shaking as he spoke.

“What? Inherited?” I shrugged and shook my head.

“When I was a boy, she told me I could disappear.” He bowed his head. “It’s a family trait. At first it was fun when I played hide and seek with the other kids, but as I grew older, it was no longer any fun. You see, I can’t control it and neither could she, my grandmother. She would just disappear at the most inconvenient times.”

I just stood there gawking at him as if he was some kind of freak. He had seen the look I was giving him many times before and he turned away.

“What am I supposed to do? You have this extraordinary ability to vanish.” I shrugged. “That makes you very special.”

“I was hoping if I could just keep working, this thing would go away. I would give anything to be normal like you.” He said as tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “What you would consider is an extraordinary ability, is just a family curse to me. It freaked my mother out, but grandma called me her special boy. I told her that I didn’t want to be special.”

“There are worse things, right?” I put my hand on his shoulder.

“Not to me.” He shook his head, “When I disappear, I feel like a freak. I have consulted many occultists, but they haven’t been very helpful. They encourage me to use my gifts. That’s what they call them gifts. A gift is something you want, not something you dread.”

I didn’t know what to say to him. I watched him as he faded just before he vanished once again.

“Torry.” I called to him as he sat in my office.

“What’s up? Where’s Woody?” He asked.

“Gone.” I nodded.

“What do you mean? Gone?” He just shook his head.

“He disappeared.” I sighed.

“Is he in the can?” Torry scowled as he asked.

“No. He disappeared.”

“Like a ghost?” Torry sneered.

“I guess so.” I shrugged because I didn’t know what to call it.

“You’re funny.” He sneered again. “We are falling behind in production for the second week in a row. I need him out here pulling his own weight.”

“Hey, I had to go make a phone call. My wife is really sick.” Woody came strolling up as if nothing had happened. He gave me an expression of discontent as he passed me. He made sure Torry couldn’t see.

“Here he is.” Torry slapped him on the shoulder. He was happy that Woody had appeared. I, on the other hand, was confused. What was this character trying to pull? I had worked with other guys who were quirky, but this guy managed to take the cake. The rest of the afternoon both of them worked their asses off catching up to meet production numbers.

At quitting time they both took a breath before heading for the door.

“Woody, can I see you in my office before you leave?” I approached him with caution.

“Sure boss.” He glanced over at Torry and nodded. It was as if they had developed their own personal commutation with each other. It kind of creeped me out, but I watched Torry wave as he left the building.

“I just wanted to go over what happened this morning.” I sat at my desk while Woody sat in the empty chair.

“What do you mean?” His face betrayed nothing from the moment he disappeared.

“C’mon kid. You disappeared right in front of me.” I held out my hands.

“Oh that.” He itched his eyebrow and smiled.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say about it?” I leaned forward.

“Whadda want me to say?” He folded his hands over his knee.

“I wanna know what this disappearing thing is all about.” I hissed.

“Do you? Do you really want to know?” He leaned forward with his eyes unblinking, staring at the empty space on my forehead.

“What is it all about?”

“If I told you, you might be inclined to look at me differently.”

“That ship had already sailed.” I slammed my hand down on my desk. “I’ve met confidence men who wanted to pull the wool over my eyes-“

“I. Am. Not. A. Confidence. Man.” He spoke each word separately with emphasis. “My grandmother told me I had a gift. My mother had it too, but she didn’t quite see it that way. She took a bottle full of pills and disappeared into her dreams forever. I have thought about doing the same. You have no idea what it’s like when you disappear like I do.”

“You got that right. I have no idea.” I shook my head convinced I was staring into the eyes of the devil himself.

“I came here to work, and you hired me to do just that. None of this other stuff really matters, now does it.” He shook his head, “You have a choice to accept me as I am or let me go to walk out that door. What’s it gonna be?”

“I can’t have you vanishing all the time.”

“I don’t. It only happens when I get stressed. You’re doing to me right now as a matter of fact.” He bowed his head, “My grandma used to have me stand in front of the crowds back home when she sold her vanishing cream. All them people used to stress me, so I’d disappear. And them yokels would buy all the cream she had.”

He smiled a very crooked smile as his pale blue eyes burned into my skull. What was this power he had? His eyes seemed to reach into my brain so he could see what I was thinking. One thing I dreaded was I was not alone in there. He started to laugh. It was a psychotic laugh that tripped my nerve endings and electrical impulses.

“Is there anything else ya needed boss?” He asked as he stood up, brushed his hands on his jeans.

“No, no.” I croaked as my throat was as dry as the desert.

“Then, I’ll be on my way.” He tipped his baseball cap and walked out.

The next morning, Torry figured he had been trained enough to work the steamer by himself. I was on the floor with some of my crew, when he took the opportunity to climb inside the steamer and pull down the dome. To this day, I have no idea how he started the steamer, but he locked it. By the someone noticed, it was too late. The steam had scalded him to death. Woody Tarkenson was no more. I guess he needed to escape from his curse. There was no note or anything.

“Thank you Mr. Jessup for your interview.” The reporter stood up and put his pad into his pocket.

“Here, I’ll walk you out.” I followed him to the door that led to the parking lot.

“Is it alright if my driver pulls the car up to the door?” The reporter asked.

“Should be no problem.” I put my hands in my pocket as an SUV drove up to where we were standing. “This is my driver, Woody Tarkenson.”

“Howdy.” His driver waved smiling his crooked smile with his pale blue eyes looking directly at me.