Page 15 of Generation Lost

“Do you have a permit to carry a weapon?” asked Grant. The man frowned at him, giving him a strange look.

“It’s Louisiana. Most men have a permit to carry a weapon. I was in the Air Force for a few years and always carry.”

“That’s good,” nodded Grant.

“Is this job dangerous?” he asked. “I was told I’d be doing basic carpentry work.”

“You will, but the previous owners of the land are angry that we bought it from the mortgage company and are rebuilding the homes they tore down. They were all owned by senior citizens who were cheated out of their properties.”

“I see,” nodded the man. He was probably mid- to late-forties, slender but seemed fit. “Well, I’m not married. Divorced about eight years ago. I live not far from here, and I’d be more than happy to help with whatever you need. I know how to use a weapon, and I’m not afraid to use one. Do you expect violence?”

“I damn sure hope not,” said Grant. “However, the previous owners are known for not taking ‘no’ very well.”

“Do you need more workers?” asked the man thoughtfully.

“I need a crew of at least two hundred,” said Grant. “I’m desperate for labor of all the trades. Carpentry, plumbing, roofing, all of it.”

“I think I can help,” he smiled. “I do a lot of work for a group called Brother Builders. Corny, but it’s all men and women who served. Now we work contract jobs around the city. Business has been slow lately.”

“How many people are we talking about?” asked Grant.

“Three, maybe four hundred,” he said.

“Call them. Call them all, and as many that can make it here and pass the interview will be hired. Here are the wages,” he said, sliding the sheet toward the man. “We offer healthcare, holidays off, vacation days, all of it. If they do a great job here, I’ll have a shit-ton more work for them in the future.”

“Are you serious?” asked the man.

“As a heart attack, my friend,” laughed Grant.

By the end of the day, Grant had four full crews working on the property. Plumbing and foundation were being laid out, and plans were being made for framing within the next week. With the days being longer and giving them more daylight, it was a blessing Grant didn’t take for granted.

“Time for dinner, fellas!” he yelled.

“Dinner?” frowned one of the men.

“We expect our men to be healthy and strong. To do that, we provide meals every day. That catering truck over there is owned and operated by our company. They will provide three meals a day and snacks if you need them. Water, electrolyte drinks, and fresh fruit. I don’t want men injured, getting overheated, or dying on my job site. Your health is number one.”

“Who are you, mister?” asked a young woman. “I’ve been working construction for five years, and no one has ever given a shit about my health unless it affected the job.”

“I’m sorry that’s been your experience,” said Grant as he grabbed one of the boxes with dinner inside. Brooke and Tru waved the workers over, telling them their choices for the evening meal.

“We’ve got roast beef po’boys with fries and gravy, grilled chicken salads, seafood pasta, or a vegetarian option for anyone who needs that. Cookies, chips, potato and macaroni salad are over there in the small containers, and drinks in the coolers. Help yourselves.”

“You know, I thought you were nuts for paying us so much. I thought it was a joke, but this, this is just crazy,” said the man Grant had spoken to at the start of the day.

“Like I said, we’re a different kind of company. I like my people to want to come to work. I don’t want to force anyone to do a job they hate,” said Grant. “We, all of us, believe if you treat people well, they’ll want to stay, and they’ll want to come to work every day.”

“Well, you’ve damn sure got my vote.”

“That’s good,” nodded Grant. “If this other company causes issues, I want them to be aware of the fact that we’ve got an army of our own.”

“What happens when this is all done?” asked another man.

“Well, if you still like working for me, I’ve got plenty of jobs that need people. I can keep every one of you employed for at least another four or five years, maybe longer.”

“Why haven’t you advertised for help before now?” asked another woman.

“That’s not how my company works. I want to handpick the people who work for me. You all heard my rules earlier. No drinking, no drugs, no verbal abuse or harassment. If you avoid those things with me, we’ll be golden.”

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