Carina Valencia

[NebulaCloud]

~~ Five years ago, 814 AS ~~

The shrill whistle marking the end of the third shift reverberated through the hot metal of the foundry, piercing the eardrums of every worker present even over the roaring furnaces and constantly bubbling molten metal. It was always easy to tell who hadn't been working there long, because unlike the lifers -- inmates and parolees who were very likely to live out the remainder of their short lives in the oppressive heat, toiling away in a job that had beaten their bodies and their spirits into weary submission -- the newcomers almost always jumped clear out of their skins in surprise as they clapped their hands over their ears to stop the painful assault on their hearing.

Carina was one of those, and among the few times she ever saw a hint of amusement or any sort of life in the dead eyes of the lifers who worked on the line near her was when she caught them chuckling quietly at the new girl frightened by the shift whistle. There wasn't much about this job that she actually liked, to be fair, but it was always those moments when she really hated it. It had taken weeks for her to win her foreman's respect, and even longer than that for her to be relegated to a job that actually gave her something that required any effort. Compared to the hulking, twisted brutes covered in burns and scars from years of hard labor, Carina was like a little mouse, standing a full head shorter and a hundred pounds lighter than all but the smallest men she worked among, and she couldn't stand being treated like a fragile relic that would break under the slightest burden. For what seemed like forever she had been given the most menial, pointless jobs that required no exertion whatsoever, and it drove her nearly to the point of insanity. She was not an idle person, and doing that kind of work was an affront to her dignity, not to mention the fact that the clock seemed to run backwards when she watched the big men go about their toils while she piddled about sweeping up bits of slag.

Even though she was small, especially compared to her coworkers, Carina was deceptively strong and hardy, had a grip far surpassing what her little hands looked like they could administer, and she had begged for the opportunity to prove it. When she finally was given the chance to work at a smelting furnace, she worked herself almost to death in order to keep up with the others, never once letting on that she was fatigued to the point of exhaustion. She was never permitted to work the metal itself, but lifting, stacking, and transporting ingots and raw material about the factory floor was far less debasing than playing housemaid, and the work day always went by so much quicker. Her body was a permanent, achy wreck for the first solid two weeks of her new job, but not one time did she ever complain or stop to rest, and people were finally starting to notice.

But the one thing she still hadn't been able to overcome, no matter how she prepared, no matter how carefully she tried to pay attention to the time, she still fell victim to that damn whistle. It never failed.

She worked her jaw and blinked hard, trying to conceal the ringing in her ears as she, as casually as she could, placed the last ingot on the carryall and gave it a hard slap with her leather gloved hand, pretending not to hear the quiet laughter of the relief shift. Pulling her gloves off she ran her calloused hand over her matted thick black hair, the strands that had strayed loose from the tight bun into which she had pulled in back. The sweat soaking her scalp held them in place, and she ran the back of her forearm across her brow. She had lived on the planet Houston all her life, and even though as any other Houstonian native she was accustomed to the wild temperature extremes of the world's climate, the heat of the foundry was enough to dehydrate anyone within hours if they weren't careful.

Even though the sweat-and-grime-soaked coveralls revealed nothing about her figure and her light tan skin was ruddy with the day's effort, Carina could be called pretty by many, despite her undeniably brash, unladylike air. She and her sister Consuela had even gotten their hands on some makeup once, which was a rare luxury for someone of her social class, and she couldn't deny that she liked what she saw in the mirror. When her thin, demurely arched eyebrows were plucked, her eyelashes teased, and a tiny bit of eyeliner and blush accented her deep brown eyes and high cheekbones, she had looked lovely indeed. She had always though her nose to be a little too pointy or her eyes to be a little too far apart, but she had from time to time received a number of ill-conceived attempts at compliments on her unique blend of Hispanic and Rheinlander features. But there was little cause for someone like her to get trussed up like a clown and parade about like some self-absorbed bimbo looking to land a rich husband. Even if she wanted to, if she stayed at the foundry for very long, which she sincerely hoped not to, any potential beauty she might have would be marred and ruined forever by the heat of molten lead and steel.

Stuffing her gloves sloppily in the breast pocket of her loose coveralls, she put her hands on her hips and surveyed the factory floor quickly, making a big show of nodding to herself in satisfaction of a physically demanding and tiring job well done, still making sure to prove to the other men that she was as cut out for this work as they were.

A surly Hispanic man with a thick gray Fu Manchu mustache and a shaved head came striding up just then. It was Rodrigo, her relief worker, and the only person in this miserable job that she felt any sort of camaraderie with. His left arm was almost entirely covered in the gnarled remnants of a nasty-looking burn, and his cheek had a long scar that ran from his nostrils to his ear. His shoulders appeared to go right up to his head, his neck lost in a mass of hulking muscle. To anyone who just met him, he would look like any other dangerous convict, but Carina knew better. His cracked lips pulled back in a yellow-toothed grin that, oddly, had the unmistakable air of welcoming friendliness, when he saw her. Carina smiled back at him, not her usual tight-lipped, forced smile, but the genuine, warm smile she only gave to her sister, her mother, and to him.

"Buenos dias, Lauchita!" the big man said to her warmly, slapping her on the shoulder firmly, but obviously with far less force than he was capable of delivering. "Good one today?"

Carina scowled playfully at him and punched him squarely in the chest as hard as she could, but it wasn't even enough to make him back up a step. "Callate ya, cabrón," she retorted. "How many times do I have to tell you I hate it when you call me that!"

Rodrigo laughed mischievously, pretending to fend her off as if intimidated. "Sí, I know," he said, still chuckling. “That's why I do it.” She shook her head, trying to suppress her grin as he pulled on his gloves, preparing to take her place. The night shift workers were beginning to file out of the cavernous foundry as the first shift was filing in, two opposing currents of bodies moving around them like a river flowing around a rock jutting out of its bed. The two of them looked around for a moment before Rodrigo spoke again. “You hear from LPI about your application yet, mija?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I hope there'll be a wave waiting for me when I get back home,” she replied.

“How many times you taken their exam now? Two?” he asked.

“Three,” Carina corrected him with a quiet sigh. “And thanks for reminding me, pendejo.”

Rodrigo shrugged. “Just askin',” he said. “Still don't get why you're so stuck on it. You know you got a hell of roadblock to get around, with your daddy's record and all.”

She narrowed her eyes up at him, saying nothing aside from a cold stare.

Immediately he threw his hands up in front of him defensively. “Hey, hey, I'm just sayin' is all,” he said quickly. “I just don't wanna feed you any lies, mija. You got to be realistic is all. People like you and me, we're the bottom of the barrel. May not be totally legitimate, but the cops ain't likely to hire from the dregs down here, especially not someone like Felix Ibánez's kid, you know?”

“I need to get going,” Carina said tersely, and started to go.

Rodrigo stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Mija, hold on,” he pleaded with a paternal air to his voice. Carina avoided his eyes at first, but she knew his patient silence wouldn't abate until she either conceded or the foreman came along to kick her out and get Rodrigo on the line, so she finally looked back up at his steely gray eyes. “I ain't trying to upset you. I just don't wanna see you get your hopes up too high just to be disappointed. Look around you here,” he continued, motioning around the foundry floor with his bear paw of a hand. “See all them faces? All them shattered dreams? That ain't what I wanna see on you.”

Carina couldn't help give him a smirk. “So settle in and be happy I'm here, is that it?” she mocked.

He flicked her nose, and she had to twitch it and consciously force her eyes not to water up. “Don't be a smartass, Lauchita,” he chided, grinning. “I know you're destined for bigger things than this. I'm just sayin' keep your options open.”

She kept the smirk on her face. “Glad you're looking out for me, Rodrigo,” she said half-sarcastically.

A voice over the loudspeaker boomed. “First shift to your stations!”

Rodrigo grunted and looked back at her, slapping her upper arm. “Better get goin',” he told her. “Don't wanna keep your Daddy waiting up on ya.”

Carina scoffed. “No, we wouldn't want that, would we?”

“Hasta mañana, Cari,” he said, and gruffly took the carryall's powered handles and started to shove it away into the crowd.

She stood there quietly for another moment. “Yeah,” she whispered to no one as she watched him go. “Tomorrow.” With a sigh, she turned to head for the locker room, taking care not to limp or shuffle even though her body creaked in protest with every move.

Not for the first time, she wished she had someone like Rodrigo to talk to more often.


[EDIT 9/21/2012 - minor content revisions]
[EDIT 9/22/2012 - timeline revisions]

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