After obtaining permission from the director to improve the night shift, Pablo left a reliable man nad Kavor to monitor the day shift in his place. On the first day of the night shift, Pablo arrived at the factory as the sun was setting.
The day workers were leaving and the night workers were beginning.
He found the night supervisor, a man in his forties nad Siro, standing at the gate with a face that did not hide what he was feeling.
He looked at Pablo with narrowed eyes.
"I know my job."
"I know."
"I don't need a child watching ."
"I didn't say you don't know your job."
"Then why are you here?"
Pablo looked at him calmly.
"There are specific things the director asked to do."
He turned his back and entered the factory.
---
In the following days, murmurs reached Pablo from here and there.
Siro talking with the night workers during breaks.
"A child cos to teach us how to work."
"The director trusts age and experience in this factory, not a small child."
"He will fail in a week and return to his day shift."
Pablo heard all of this.
He did not respond to any of it.
Talk does not raise numbers.
---
In the first week, Pablo noticed the real problem with the night shift.
It was not a problem with the machines or the lines.
It was a problem of rhythm.
The night workers worked slowly at the beginning of the shift, then sped up a little before the end to make production look reasonable.
But real production was far less than what was possible.
The sa thod he used during the day.
First, sorting the workers: who worked seriously and who just filled ti.
Second, distributing tasks differently: the heaviest work at the beginning of the shift when energy is high, not at the end.
Third, placing monitoring points on the lines every two hours and recording production at each point.
He did not ask Siro to change anything directly.
He just began implenting what he wanted quietly.
Siro watched with narrowed eyes.
But the numbers began to rise.
Day by day.
---
In the Eastern District
The combat instructor was sitting on a wooden bench in front of a small training yard when Marco arrived on the first day.
He looked at him from head to toe.
He did not say anything for a full minute.
Then he said in a rough voice:
"Punch that bag."
He pointed to a sandbag hanging by a rope from a low ceiling.
Marco approached and punched.
The bag swung normally.
The instructor looked.
"Again. With all your strength."
Marco punched with everything he had.
The rope broke.
The bag flew and hit the far wall, and the wall cracked.
The instructor was silent.
He looked at the bag on the ground.
Then he looked at Marco.
Then at the wall.
He let out a slow breath and stood up from his seat.
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
"How long have you trained before?"
"I have never trained."
The instructor walked slowly toward the torn bag and looked at it closely.
The wall behind the bag was also cracked.
He did not say anything for a long mont.
Then he turned to Marco with eyes that could not completely hide what he felt, despite the sternness of his face.
"Co."
---
In the first week, the instructor taught him the basics.
How to stand.
How to breathe before the strike.
How to shift your weight from your legs to your body to your arm.
Marco listened and applied.
And every ti he applied, the instructor saw sothing he had not seen in years of teaching.
A correct strike from Marco made the wall behind the sandbags tremble.
On the seventh day, when he taught him how to strike in sequence, two consecutive strikes, Marco was destroying the bags completely.
The instructor stood looking at the torn bag.
Then he said in a quiet voice, but Marco saw his hand gripping his arm tighter than usual.
"Tomorrow we start control."
"Control?"
"Strength without control is chaos. We will learn how to strike at half your power, then a quarter, then a tenth."
Marco looked at him.
"Why would I strike with less than what I have?"
"You will know later."
---
In the evening, when Marco returned to the room before sleeping, he would tell Pablo.
On the third day:
"The instructor doesn't talk much. But when I strike correctly, he nods his head. Just once. But it's enough."
On the seventh day:
"I destroyed two bags today. The instructor looked at them, then at , then said stay away from the wall when you strike." Marco laughed a little. "I think he's afraid for the wall."
On the tenth day:
"We started control today. Harder than I expected. Striking at half strength ans your mind resists your body. But the instructor said this is the real difference."
Pablo listened to all of this with calm eyes.
But he heard every word.
And calculated.
---
In the second week of the night shift, Pablo made a decision about sothing he had been thinking about since he beca responsible.
Embezzlent.
If he was responsible, he had to benefit from this as much as possible.
In the factory records, the nas of the two other workers besides Jordo were still registered as workers.
Their attendance was recorded.
But they did not co.
And they would not co.
Pablo was the one who signed off on attendance.
And Pablo was the one who would receive their salaries on their behalf.
It was not complicated.
But he took his precautions.
The two nas were in the middle of a long list of workers.
No one reads every na on a list of fifty people.
And their attendance was recorded at different tis each day so that no clear pattern appeared.
He knew it was difficult to detect.
But difficult is not impossible.
And he acted on that basis.
As for Jordo, the matter was different.
Jordo was known in the factory. His face was familiar, and his absence would be noticed.
The day after he fired him, he told the director.
"Jordo is no longer suitable. I fired him."
The director looked at him.
"Jordo has worked here for years."
"He is a lazy person and poisons the work environnt."
The director paused for a mont, then nodded.
"You are responsible for your section."
He did not ask about the other two.
And he would not ask.
---
On the tenth day of the night shift, Pablo sat in his small office with the production papers.
The numbers were in front of him.
The night shift had reached the sa level as the day shift.
Not approximately.
Exactly.
He closed the papers and stood up.
---
In the director's office, Pablo placed the report on the table.
The director read it slowly.
First page.
Second.
Third.
Then he placed it on the table and looked at Pablo.
"Ten days."
"Yes."
"To make the night like the day."
"I said I would succeed."
The director was silent for a long ti.
Then he said:
"From now on, you are responsible for both shifts together."
"Thank you."
"Siro will submit a weekly report to you."
"I know what I need in the report. I will tell him."
"And you will submit a monthly report to ."
"Once a month."
The director nodded.
He extended his hand.
Pablo shook it.
"I don't know where you ca from, Pablo." The director said as he shook his hand. "But you are not an ordinary child."
He did not reply.
He just nodded and left.
---
In the hallway, he paused for a second.
Responsible for both shifts.
A monthly report to the director.
And Siro submitting weekly reports to him.
In four and a half months, he had reached here.
But the road was still long.
He continued walking.
User Comments
0 comments from readers