Sam motioned me to an empty place beside Sadie, who gave me an encouraging grin as I sat down. A large pile of pre-cut collars was put on my right side. I started sewing. As I finished each piece a small girl darted up with a large pair of scissors to cut the ends. As fast as the pile went down, Sam was there with another huge pile. It was never ending. I thought I was doing well until he said, “If you go at that speed, you’ll be here all night. Step it up, will ya?”
I glanced at my fellow workers. Their needles were positively flying up and down. How was I going to be able to observe who might be sneaking around when I obviously wouldn’t have a moment to breathe? The morning dragged on. Nobody spoke, unless Sam left the room and then there were whispers. One girl got up and walked down the room toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sam demanded.
“Washroom,” the girl said. “I need to go.”
“You were up and down all day yesterday,” Sam complained. “Think you’ve found a way to slack off, do ya? Well, I’m docking ten cents from your pay packet. That’ll teach you.”
“Give her a break, Sam,” Sadie said. “She’s expecting. Everyone knows you have more calls of nature when you’re in that condition.”
“You girls should think more about your duty to your boss and less about populating the world with more stinking kids,” Sam growled. “Go on then. Go to the washroom, but you’re staying late if you don’t meet your quota. I don’t care how many brats you got squalling for you.”
Sadie looked at me and shook her head.
At last a bell rang and everyone jumped up.
“Half an hour, remember,” Sam yelled. “Not no stinking thirty-five minutes. We don’t pay you good money to waste the boss’s time.”
“They don’t pay us good money, and that’s a fact.” Sadie fell into step beside me as she reached for her shawl.
“You talking again, Sadie Blum?” Sam’s voice echoed down the room. “Better watch that mouth or you’ll owe me more than you earn by the end of the week. Okay, line up for inspection if you want to go out.”
“What is this, the army?” I whispered to Sadie.
“He has to inspect our bags and pockets to make sure we’re not stealing any of the trimmings,” she whispered back. “Sometimes they even lock the doors when we’re using expensive stuff.”
Sam came charging up to us. “Some people never learn, do they, and now you’re teaching the new girl bad habits. I’m docking you each ten cents from your pay packet. And next time you talk, it will be a quarter. Your fancy airs and graces don’t work around here.”
He searched my purse then he put his hands on my waist and ran them down my sides. “Hey, watch it!” I said, slapping his hands away from me. “You can search my purse if you like, but you’re not touching my person.”
“I’m only checking your pockets, sweetheart. Nothing to get your dander up about.” He grinned at me with that insulting leer. “If I was really feeling you up, I’d do a much better job of it.”
At last he opened the door and we filed down the stairs. “That man is awful,” I muttered to Sadie as we passed through the door and started in a procession down the stairs. “Why doesn’t somebody do something about him?”
“Do what? If we complain, we’re fired. The boss doesn’t care how we’re treated as long as the work gets done. And there are plenty of girls stepping off the boat every day waiting to take our places.”
“And it’s better than some of the shops,” another girl commented, coming up to join us as we stepped out into the fresh air of the street. “My sister only gets five dollars a week if she’s lucky, and they dock her pay for the use of the firm’s power supply, and an extra five cents for the use of the mirror and towel in the washroom. She says the mirror is so small you can hardly see to powder your nose. She tried bringing her own towel from home too, but they still docked her the five cents a week.”
“None of these bosses care about their workers, Sarah. It’s all about money,” Sadie said. She turned back to me. “Girls are always getting sick because there’s not enough air to breathe and too many of us crammed into one room, but they won’t let us have the window open, even in summer.”
“So why do you stay?” I asked.
“What else can newnik girls like us do?” Sarah, the second girl said with a shrug of her shoulders. In contrast to Sadie, who was tall and carried herself with a certain air of grace, Sarah was frail and hollow looking, as if she hadn’t had a good meal or been out in the fresh air recently. “Nobody’s going to hire immigrant newniks outside of the sweatshops.”
“I’m educated, but it don’t matter,” Sadie said. “Back at home I had a good life. I was taking piano lessons and French. Too bad it wasn’t English. Now I just pick up gutter English.” She slipped her arm through mine. “You speak nice. You help me to speak more educated, okay?”