A Big Deal

“Mr. Poore, are you ready to give your presentation? Mr. Poore….Hello! Earth to Seigh.”

“Huh, Oh, sorry, what’s up?” Seigh responded dazily, to Mark’s mockery of a sportscaster.

“Spaced out again, huh? I hope that doesn’t happen in the middle of this presentation. It’s big for us, and you really need to sell yourself. You’re the best on the blocks, and you need to be on point so we can expand into something bigger.” Mark, loved the show that Seigh put on for the customers when he was cutting, he turned the show into a bit of a gimmick. Seigh enjoyed indulging the patrons, so he didn’t mind putting himself out there while getting some work done. Mark caught wind of the big box investigating the area, and knew that Seigh’s talent, combined with his output, would be something that they may have been interested in buying. Seeing the trend of big business, the he last thing he wanted was to be crushed by the giant. So if you can’t beat em’…join em….

Mark was able to cut meat, as well. Seigh however, possessed an uncanny ability, it was almost superhuman, from Mark’s point of view that is. For instance, he was able to cut meat with his eyes closed (and he has as a part of the show), and there was more to it than simply that. He was a duck to water with it but, he was the duck that could throw his quack and have others fly towards it’s non-existant echo. It was his art and he had mastered it. Had he comitted his skills to working the big industry, he feared they may turn them into another set of hands, with a number and a knife. Today was the big day to showcase for that fat cats. They wanted to see what Mark and Seigh had to offer, and what they were seeking to invest in.

Seigh was distracted by trying piece together how he had gotten to work that morning. He drifted into his mind behind the wheel, as he so often does when he drives. He and Jax lived in a cozy, one bedroom apartment just outside of Hammonton. So, it wasn’t as if the drive was ever long. Despite the town being closer to the size of tiny, it was still too much hustle and bustle for Seigh. His mind often drifted farther into his own little world whenever he stayed sober for this long. It didn’t quite matter though, Seigh was the best in his business and he didn’t need to be there mentally to work the blade, it was a cusomary part of who he became. Mark decided he would drive them to the presentation, though his nerves were shot. He was worried Seigh would lose his concentration in the middle of doing what he does best. He knew Seigh had it in him to impress the fat cats but he had never seen him so distant, and it was beginning to worry him. He could chalk it up to a man being in the zone, but there was something off about this distance.

“Are you okay Seigh? Your distance is really rattling my nerves. I mean, I know you know how much is riding on this presentation. You have to be at your best, and I need you to pull through.” Mark said. He was dressed in his best button up shirt, clearly ready to impress. He was naturally good looking with dark eyes and short brown hair. He always reminded Seigh of a vampire in the looks department. Seigh dressed to match, but never fully understood the concept of trying to faking it until you make it, it felt too much like lying to him.

“I’m fine, I just had an odd dream last night.” Seigh’s eyes stayed focused on the mulched leaf that rested next to his foot. He was practically looking into it. Wondering what microorganisms lived on it. What crawled on it, accepting the fate of being the small, brown sliver of composition that took residence next to his foot.

“Fine you say! This is the biggest moment of my life and you’re off somewhere in your own little world, shaking hands with the fucking natives! How the hell am I supposed to know you’re not going to flake up there? I mean, it’s a lot of pressure, and these guy are going to throw some curveballs at you that you may not be ready for. What are you going to do if they call a cut out to you that you don’t know?”

“I’m not going to flake. If it’s something I don’t know then I’ll ask them how to cut it.”

“Oh, mister non-fucking-chalant, I can handle anything attitude. These guys are pros, and they want to make money with your showmanship. Do you get that? This is dollars on your art. How the hell do you plan on raising your baby if you fuck this up because your head is elsewhere? If we don’t get this, this place is probably going to crush us. Large markets, like the one these guys are opening, have a tendency to want to crush little guys like us.” Mark was getting red in the face at this point, and Seigh couldn’t care less.

“I’m completely comfortable Mark. I manage this shit everyday, so let me focus on my type of prose. I do what I do to satisfy my need for art, and it works for me at the moment to fill that void. If getting lost in there helps me to do my job, then let me do it my way. To me this is about more than just a buck.”

“I consider it art worthy. If anything, I am faster than you on the blocks, but you have hands that I’ve never seen. It’s amazing the way you move your knife. It’s almost as if you do it in such a way that you don’t have your hand’s on the blades. Sometimes, I think you really do take your hands off them. But, I live here in reality, and that stuff doesn’t happen here.”

“It’s a matter of fact, Mark. I just do what I do naturally. I happen to be that good at what I do and if my art is subject to questioning then I will be sure to take the time out to learn the part of my art I have yet to learn. So if someone asks me about a cut I don’t Know. Then I’m going to ask them how to make that cut, because I want to know it for my own knowledge. After they teach me then I will make it better. I will apply my art to the meat. Does that sound okay to you?”

“Okay, fine, sorry. Just, stay focused. Hey, anybody ever tell you that you talk weird?”

“Jax, all the time. So I just stopped talking.” Seigh said sulkily.

“That’s fucked.” Mark joked and they both laughed.

A jolly looking black man with a graying beard and dark hair approached the truck. He walked with a slight limp that stemmed from the hip, he guided them through the unpainted parking lot and pointed out a spot to park. The man walked towards the truck and introduced himself. “Hello fellahs. I’m Jake Dawson. You must be mistah Calley. S’pose you two’s the reason Phil’s coming around today, too?” His twang suggested he was from further south. Jake fit the bill of old fashioned southern hospitality. That sort gentle kindness was unheard of in NJ and the hand-rolled cigarettere said it all.

“Hello Jake, I’m Mark Calley. This is my associate and man of the hour, Seigh Poore. We have a presentation with Robert Davidson today.” Mark said, white knuckling the steering wheel.

“Dawson will do just fine if it’s all the same to ya. Even my son calls me that occasionally, he’s a good boy though, old enough to be a daddy him-sef. Thankfully, he managed to steer away from having kids all his own. Though, it’d be nice to be a pappy some day. Aside from him and this place, ain’t much else fo’ an ole fool like me to do ’roun hea.” Dawson continued to talk as he escorted them through the front door and into the un-stocked store. “They gonna have some of the floor crew in hea stattin tomorra, they gon be stockin the shelves n what-not.” Dawson continued to yammer on about his wife and how he thought Stockholm syndrome was derived from marriage. He was a comforting, sweet old man, and his voice echoed throughout the vacant building. Making the place seem more a home for sages, with mountains of books and knowledge from…wherever….

Seigh supposed the overnights were lonely for him. So any company was more than enough for Dawson to dump his life into. It was a short walk from the truck to the meat room, despite the size of the building. Seigh had learned enough about Dawson to fill a scrapbook in a fraction of the time it took for him to escort them to the meat department. Mark just pretended to marvel at everything and continued ‘yes dearing’ the man that reminded him of Santa Claus.

Vacant, quiet places like this gave Seigh the shivers. Despite being woke up inside by the low playing music bouncing off the walls from, what appeared to be the receiving area, he couldn’t help but think that the depressing music played in retail outlets everywhere prompted shoppers to feel low. Causing them to buy more of the products that they didn’t need. It was a sick tactic used to collect every red cent and feed off the impluse of the every day shopper. But, it was indeed their money to spend. Mark tried this in their shop, but Seigh preferred to keep the music upbeat. He enjoyed the smiles and watching the ladies ‘shake it’ a bit whenever the beat prompted them to do so.

They finally reached the meat department and Dawson introduced them to the man standing in front of the open window, giving full view of the meat room. “Gentamen, I’d like you to meet Mista Davidson. Mista Davidson, this is Mark Calley. He is the local smoky looking to expand his business, and this guy hea is his meat cutter that is going to try to impress you, his name is…uh.” Seigh cut off Dawson and put out his hand. “Seigh, sir. Seigh Poore. Pleased to make your acquaintence.” Seigh held out his hand and Mr. Davidson gorilla gripped Seigh’s hand, giving him a hefty shake.

“Good to meet you too son. Got kind of a weak grip there for a meat cutter, wouldn’t you say? And please, call me Robert.”

“Not exactly weak. I think maybe your’s is just that powerful.” Seigh had a way of buttering people up. Robert was a man that looked as if he was approaching middle age. He was the same height as Seigh and Mark, about five foot ten, with a growing belly. He had beady eyes that seemed to penetrate and intimidate. Seigh could see right through them, though. He could also see that upon meeting Mark, that Mark was intimidated. Robert could sense it too. That put a funny little smile on Seigh’s face. Robert instructed them to follow and Mark and Seigh did so. They walked through the meat room door and Robert gave them a grand tour of the place, and explained things with a helium pitched voice that didn’t fit his physique.

“So gentlemen, this is the cutting floor. Here, we have three sets of blocks, two saws; some smaller equipment like the cuber and the slicer. There is an auto-wrapper for faster production and a hand wrapper for some heavier items. In the holding cooler we have the large grinder linked up to the mixer for all the burger needs. Plus, a small service grinder for special requests. We want the customers to get everything they ask for so they leave happy. That’s what keeps em’ coming back! As soon as my bag of shit brother Phil gets here, we can get this show on the road. He knows everything about the meat industry, he schooled the last three interviews we had. No pressure son.” Robert said to Seigh, with a sinister grin from ear to ear.

“None at all. Where can I set up?” Seigh asked smugly.

“That front block’ll do just fine.” Robert pointed towards the open window, it face out of the meat room and out to the sales floor.

Seigh strolled to the block and set up his knives. He put on his smock and apron, then took a look around. It was a tin (stainless steel) box. Large electrical wires that power the equipment dangled from the ceiling. A metal storage unit for files and spare parts rested in the corner of the room. Everything was brand new and stainless steel overwhelmed the decor of the room, sanitation at it’s brightest…Seigh gave it a month until something broke…. He was overly fascinated with the whiteness of the blocks, due to the reflection of the overhead fluorescents, he was nearly blinded by it. He couldn’t stop staring down into them and began to drift off into his own little world. For him, it was a wonderful feeling, songs by his favorite band would echo in his mind and it would allow him to get lost in the craft that he felt at home with.

The blocks turned into his personal indigo cloud lullaby. He would trance out and not even think twice about what he was doing. Like a blank canvas, he drifted into it as any painter would. He saw the prison that he had created in his mind that he named Dizzy Dim. Looking at it from overhead he could see it’s maze like structure turning here and there, coming to dead ends and crisscrossing corridors that he had already drew a line through. He loved mazes, and this one was straight out of Hell. He could almost drift down into it and walk the gray corridors, the word smims covered the walls and he could reach out and touch them. This felt very much like a trap of sorts, like he was the main attraction at a zoo.

“Son, you with us?” Taking notice of Seigh’s blank stare, Robert asked in a fatherly tone of concern.

“Yeah, sorry.” Seigh snapped away from his trance and glared over towards Mark. Just then, a much larger man than Robert entered the room. He was so large the refrigeration had to sneak out the back in order to free up enough space for him to fit.

“Ah, look who finally decided to show. Gentlemen, this is my brother Phil.” Phil approached Mark and Mark was shrouded from Seigh’s line of sight. He was more than rotund, this man had his own gravity, Seigh thought smaller items probably took orbit around his waist. Above that he stood about six feet three inches, so it wasn’t as if he was a sloppy large, he was properly proportioned. His hair was thinning and he looked like he drank a little too much judging from the bloodshot eyes and red nose. Seigh could relate, drinking is a much needed staple for any meat cutter‘s stability.

“Put er’ there, partner.” Phil shot his hand out at Mark. “I’m eager to see what you and your man have to offer our franchise. I’ve been all over the country with this business, so there isn’t much I don’t know. I’ve heard a lot about you two from the locals, so that’s why I wanted to have a look for myself. I may throw some knowledge at you, but I’m always willing to learn a new thing or two, as well.” This didn’t settle Mark’s nerves, Phil could smell his fear and Seigh looked on, holding back a smile.

“Nice to meet you sir, I’m Mark. That mild-mannered man over there, is Seigh. He’ll be doing the cutting today. I’m a cutter myself, but he has a knack that will hopefully leave you impressed; maybe even hypnotized. You’ll have to see for yourself what I mean.” His voice had a slight quiver to it, they were all astonished he could force the words out at all.

“Yeah? Last three guys pretty much said the same thing. From what I ended up seeing they were all bullshit artists, at the very best. Let’s hope the two of you aren’t wasting my time as well. Anyway, let’s meet this hypnotist of yours. How you doin’ pal?” Phil’s hands were nearly twice the size of Seigh’s he extended his had and Phil shook heartily. His grip felt firm and not overpowering. It gave the impression of a comfortable sense of respect towards others, and Seigh liked that.

“Hello sir, I’m Seigh, nice to make your acquaintance.”

“HA!” Phil bellowed. “I haven’t heard that word used since I was out west. Call me Phil. I’m not gonna dilly-dally. One cutter to another, I’m gonna throw some meat at you that I want merchandised out. I want to see finesse, clean cuts and speed. I’m not gonna be putting my market in the hands of some trough merchants. I’ve Seen one to many skirt through in my time and I’ll be damned if I let one pass through my market. I’m gonna be over your shoulder and in front of you asking questions. You got it kid?” Phil was a face talker, and clearly liked his vodka. Seigh shook his head to say he got it.

Dawson was given the pleasure of wheeling in the float of meat; Seigh took a look. His mind opened up and he immediately began to break down the seven primals taking up residence on it. In total, he could feasibly get twenty-eight different cuts from all of it. Making about seventy-one separate packages ready for the public to feast on, not including grinds. He turned to ready his knives and his mind crept back into it’s zone.

Seigh’s hands moved so swiftly that the blades mesmerized everyone watching. The questions asked by Phil were answered spot on by Seigh. Looking back on it, Seigh didn’t remember answering any questions. He only speculated on the way back to the shop that he nailed it. Mark was happier than a pig in shit and all the nervousness that once afflicted him had disappeared and he was back to his wired self.

“I think you fucking nailed it man! I mean I’m not going to say I’m happy about you stumping Phil with your own questions. But goddamn man, how the hell do you do that? You are sick on the blocks, and I’m not sure, but I would go so far as to say that the knife left your hands a couple times and did the work for you. Talk about crazy!” Mark said, nearly jumping out of the drivers seat with excitement.

“I’m not quite sure how I do it. Most of the time I’m not even paying attention. I’m somewhere else ‘shaking hands with the natives’, to steal your phrase.” Seigh said, looking over with a raised eyebrow and half a smile.

“Well, I don’t care where you go. Just keep doing it and we’ll be golden.” Mark was trying not to get ahead of himself. But his nerves had calmed and his excitement was overwhelming him.

“It’s confusing sometimes, Mark. I can’t remember half of what happens during my day, and what I do remember is gone by the time I wake up the next morning.” Seigh’s eyes drifted down towards the floor and his somber feeling almost killed Mark’s mood.

“Get some fucking help man. Cus’ that sounds like crazy talk. But, I be sure to keep the white coats from coming out to pick you up, just as long as you keep cutting like that. So cheer the fuck up man!” Mark said, patting Seigh’s shoulder as they pulled into their market. It now looked run-down and out of date to the two of them. They both accepted that it was indeed time for a change, if they didn’t get the job it was certainly time for an update, at the very least. However, two days later Mark received the call that they had the job.

“We are celebrating tonight Seigh. Tell Jax to come along too. I know she can’t drink, but hell, she can drive. So long little hole in the ground….HELLOOOOO SUCCESS!!” Mark was practically dancing a jig before he even hung up the phone.