"You should probably go get that looked at, man."
"Huh?" Jo grunted as he set down the steel beam on the assembly line.
"I think you're bleeding."
Darnell pointed to the stain seeping through the blue material covering his ribcage.
"Shit."
"Edge must've got you good," Darnell chuckled.
"I'll be fine," Jo muttered, coughing as he moved onto the next beam.
"Atwood!"
Jo looked up to find the supervisor making his way to the pair of them.
"You hurt?"
"I'm fine, sir," he said as they picked up the next beam and placed it on the line, stifling another cough.
"Singleton, you need to watch where you're swinging those things. You're gonna take someone's head off. I don't want to see it happen again. Atwood, get down to Occupational Health."
"Yes, sir."
There was no use arguing, but a trip to the nurse's office still gave Jo as much anxiety as it did in grade school.
He descended the steel staircase down to the basement of the factory where the dim light gave a yellow hue to the peeling white paint on the brick walls. Coming to a hallway of empty offices, Jo trudged toward the lone light at the end. The door was open several inches, but all Jo could see were stacks of papers on a desk that had probably been new in the 70s. For a moment, he considered stepping into the bathroom and cleaning himself up, but knew the supervisor would likely follow-up with the nurse to ensure he'd been seen. Deciding his embarrassment wasn't worth risking his job, he knocked lightly on the door.
"It's open," came the muttered response.
He pushed the door open to find a man in his late 50s with a permanent frown etched into his brow and tattooed biceps peaking from underneath his black scrubs. The man looked up from the file folder he was holding to give Jo a once over, then jerked his head to exam table. Jo hesitated, but shuffled passed the storage boxes pilled to the side of the room and made his way to the dreaded table.
"Problem?"
"Caught the corner of a beam, sir. Supervisor said I had to come down."
"Full name and date of birth."
"Jo Atwood. September 15th, 1995."
"Jo short for Joseph?"
"Just Jo, sir. J-O."
"No E?" the man asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Awe, he's kinda cute, Carl. What's his name?"
"He doesn't have a name. Doesn't need one. Get over here, boy!"
He pulled himself up from the corner where he'd been cowering and timidly approached his father and the woman at his side. Their eyes looked funny, and he guessed it had something to do with the traces of white powder around their noses. His father grabbed him by the hair, wrenching his head back and bent down to stare him in the eye.
"This is Candie. She's gonna be staying with us for awhile. You do whatever she says or you'll get the belt. The buckle end," his dad stressed. "Understand?"
"Yes, sir," he murmured, eyes so far downcast they were almost closed.
Candie smiled down at him, eyes darting all over his face.
YOU ARE READING
Way Down I'll Go
General FictionJo's brothers are his world. He's spent his entire life sacrificing everything to give them the life he's never had. Having battled through a horrific childhood, his every breath is for the benefit of his brothers, who gave him a reason to live thro...
