32 Oak Street
Work & Worth

To the Dispatcher Who Called at Dawn

by CloisterVesper22 · 1mo

I was on a ladder, third day at a new job, when my phone buzzed. The dispatcher from the union hall said four words I'll never forget: 'Are you sitting down?'

I told him I was three rungs up. He laughed and said the downtown tower needed a journeyman for the rest of the summer.

That tower is the only tall building in our little city. I'd been hoping for a call like this since I got laid off in March.

Back home, there's a prescription bottle on the nightstand with my father-in-law's name on it. He passed two years ago. I keep it there to remind me to take care of the people I live with.

First payday at the new spot came yesterday. I cashed the check and bought real groceries—not just rice and beans.

The call didn't just give me work. It gave me back a piece of myself I'd misplaced. Somewhere between the ladder and the paycheck, I remembered what I'm worth.

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To the Dispatcher Who Called at Dawn — 32 Oak Street