CHAPTER SIXTEEN D: THE CONTRACTOR’S TABLE
The worker center held an open meeting two days later at a union hall near the highway.
Simone asked Jake to help serve coffee, not to speak.
He welcomed the assignment.
The hall filled slowly with people wearing work jackets, grocery uniforms, and boots marked by mud from different job sites.
Several brought children because they had no one to watch them.
Celia Flores arrived with her husband, Luis, who looked toward the exits before taking a seat.
Priya stood near the back wall.
Beth came with Warren but chose a chair several rows away from him.
Gideon helped set up a microphone that squealed every time someone adjusted its stand.
Simone began by explaining what the center could do.
She spoke about wage claims, transportation safety, and the importance of recording accurate accounts.
She also warned that public accusations could complicate ongoing investigations.
“We are here to decide what people need now,” she said.
“We are not here to stage a trial in a crowded room.”
A man in a clean brown coat stood near the door.
He introduced himself as Everett Sloan, a contractor whose company had used Russell’s transport service.
“My crews were paid,
” he announced.
“I don’t know what everyone is complaining about.”
Luis stood up.
“You paid Russell,” he said.
“You didn’t pay me.”
Everett pointed toward Simone.
“This is exactly the kind of accusation that makes employers stop hiring from this county.”
The room began to murmur.
Jake felt the familiar urge to step between the men.
Simone raised a hand before he moved.
“Mr. Sloan, you can speak when the floor is yours,” she said.
“Luis is speaking now.”
Luis held the back of his chair.
His voice trembled at first.
“I worked fourteen days without a day off at the east construction site,
” he said.
“The van took us there before sunrise and brought us back after dark.”
He looked at Everett.
“When I asked about my wages, Russell said I owed him for the ride.”
Everett shook his head.
“I never authorized that.”
“Then you should want to know why it happened,” Simone replied.
Everett opened his mouth but did not answer.
Luis continued.
“My wife thought I was lying because I kept coming home with almost nothing.”
Celia reached for his hand.
“I didn’t think you were lying,” she said quietly.
Luis looked down.
“I thought you did.”
The admission changed the room more than Everett’s argument had.
Jake watched two men in the back row lean toward each other and begin talking.
One of them raised his hand.
“I worked the same site,” he said.
“I can tell you which van we rode.”
Another woman said she had kept the dates her brother left for work because he needed rides to the pickup point.
Simone asked each person to speak with an advocate after the meeting.
Everett sat down.
He did not apologize.
But he stayed until the end, and when the room emptied he asked Simone for the names of the agencies reviewing the contracts.
Jake carried empty coffee cups toward the kitchen.
Beth stopped him beside the doorway.
“You didn’t try to fix the argument,” she said.
“It wasn’t mine to fix,” Jake answered.
Beth looked toward Luis and Celia.
“I wish I’d understood that sooner.”
Jake shook his head.
“You helped Marisol when she needed a ride.”
“I also left people behind at that gate,” Beth said.
“Both things are true.”
She took a stack of cups from his hands and carried them to the sink.
