Art by 
Three A.M.
Valentina climbed up out of bed and looked around to make sure her phone alarm had not woke up the rest of her family. Usually nothing could wake them this early, but she would rather avoid arguments before she went to work. In the room, four of her sisters had beds just like hers, little more than a mat and an old pillow to lay upon and a worn blanket to cover herself; her parents slept on a fold out couch. The rest of their apartment consisted of a restroom and a cooking area, both without doors.
Valentina climbed over her sister, careful not to step on any fingers, and into the bathroom. She quietly bushed her hair in the dark so that she could pull it back into a bun for work. She was not allowed to have her hair down at the factory, none of the girls were allowed to have their hair down. Some of her coworkers had cut their hair off like the boys to avoid the headaches a long shift of tightly pulled hair could cause.
Valentina climbed into her jeans, and noticed they were too loose and fell low on her hips again. She would have to tighten the twine holding the belt-loops tighter together once she was out in the street lamp light. She felt around on the hangers swaying from the towel bar for her uniform top. Maria’s broke down bra hung over the same hanger Valentina’s work shirt hung on. Everyone usually just used the first hanger they came across in the dark to hang their things on, but today getting dressed was easier than usual.
Valentina climbed out the window in the kitchen onto the fire escape, careful not to bump her mom’s little garden on her way out. She untied the laces on her worn shoes as they hung from the rail and slipped them on, sitting on the steps to tie the stiff laces. Looking down on the alley below, she didn’t see anyone moving. The bars usually close at two, so at three only about half of the drunks had passed out by the time she headed off to work, but this day had started off on its way to be a good one.
She rushed down the fire escape, unlatching the ladder at the end and climbing down to the pavement. She walked to the end of the alley and onto the brightly lit main street. Here at the front of the building her family lived in was a stark contrast to the state of their apartment. The bright street lights blotted out the broken windows above so that she could pretend they weren't there. Cars and buses whizzed past, bright streaks of tail lights not stopping or slowing as she walked down the sidewalk to the factory.
Tucked away in the shadows of stairs and doorways slept those not so lucky as herself. If she stayed close enough to the road Valentina couldn't even tell they were there, wrapped in the last things they owned. She knew she was one slip up from becoming one of them; being the last person in her family to have a real job weighed heavy on her. Her sisters worked the nights, and that brought in some money, but not enough to keep an apartment.
As she passed some alleys she could hear other girls who worked the night, negotiating up their prices, working, or just crying. Valentina really did not want to be one of those girls, which is why she volunteered to the early shift that no one else wanted, and so here she was, walking to the factory at three forty-five A.M.
Three forty-five! She began to run.
Three fifty-two. Valentina had made it on time to the factory. The foreman had just opened the bay door and she ducked inside. As her eyes adjusted to the harsh sodium lights which turned everything yellow, she took a piece order from the assignment wall and walked back to her station. She began collecting the cloth and patterns off the giant rolls by number that she would need for her order. She was ready by the time the air compressors kicked on and the hum of electricity filled the machines around her.
Only five women worked the early shift. Jillian was not here this morning. Valentina thought that odd, since Jillian had worked through her pregnancy, even having her baby here on the floor (which had cost her nearly a week’s pay to cover the “merchandise” she had ruined, but all the shop girls had pitched in to cover it for her) and she had never missed a day sick. They all knew what that meant. Machines were replacing their jobs, and the foreman bought a new one to replace each girl as she failed him.
“Come on, ladies, the auto-seamstresses are coming online early today, I want to see who can keep up.” The foreman lost no opportunity to remind Valentina and the other four, three then, what awaited them if they couldn't keep up. “You only get one-hour head start today.”
Valentina began cutting her pattern. Cut, clip, snip, turn, snip. The thought of only an hour before the auto-s came on worried her. She got shakes when they came on, and she would see every minute their numbers getting closer to hers. Four hours was hard enough to stay ahead of. This was not going to be such a good day after all. She missed a cut and had to scrap it, starting on another sleeve.
She looked up to the “scoreboard,” only a half hour left, and she had not begun sewing. She looked at her stack of pieces, it wasn't enough. She looked at the girls around her, none of them had enough either. She needed to get stitching soon.
“Come on, girls. I want the first run done before the Eight-o-clockers get in. Twenty-five minutes.” He was cruel, the foreman. He said he did this because he was kind and wanted to give them a job, but Valentina knew he just liked to terrorize them because jobs were hard to come by. “Donna, you live by 34th don't you? That’s on my way home.” He smiled his dirty man smile and winked at Donna. Valentina could see Donna go green. Such a cruel man.
The factory was warming up and Valentina had begun sweating already. She checked her stack again. She had enough cut with a spare for a single error. She checked the board again, four forty-seven. Only thirteen minutes.
As she checked her machine, Valentina saw that the night shift had left her with a broken needle. She opened her desk drawer, no spares remained!
“Needles!” Valentina shouted, but the foreman only smiled his dirty man smile at Valentina and stood still. He was the only one with the key to the supply cabinet that held the needles for the machine. “Needles! Please!” she shouted to him again. She glanced at the board, ten minutes. He still didn’t move.
Valentina frantically ran to where he stood. “Please Mr. Earl, I need a new set of needles, my station is out.”
He began toward the supply cabinet casually. “You know Val, you only have about 10 minutes before the auto’s start up, I would have thought you’d be sewing by now.”
“I’m sorry sir, I just, my machine, the needle, it was broken and the night shift didn’t-”
“I guess some people want it more than others. Look, Emma is already stitching.” He was now hunting for the key on his chain, passing it by at least twice.
Valentina was ready to cry. “I’m sorry sir, if you could just, just, please the needles, please.”
“Now, now, Val, a failure to plan on your part doesn’t make it my emergency.” He now held the needles just out of polite reach. “Who do you love?”
“You sir, Mr. Earl.”
“Say it right.”
“I love you Mr. Earl.” Valentina glanced back at the clock, nine minutes. She knew the machines sometimes jammed, and she might be able to keep up for one run, but she needed to get started.
“Joel.”
“I love you, Mr. Joel Earl. Please, may I have the needles?”
The foreman handed Valentina the pack of needles and she ran back to her machine. As quickly as she could she replaced the broken needle and put the pack of needles into her drawer. She could start now. Checking the clock she saw the auto-s’s would start in five minutes.
She fitted the first two pieces over each other and ran them through her machine, first stitch done. She looked to Donna, she was still cutting her patterns, clearly crying as she went. Normally Valentina would rush over to help finish the cutting, but she only had four minutes to build a lead. Emma had a knot and Mary was just starting to stitch too. Another stitch to add a hem, one to close the sleeve and then Valentina was on to her next piece.
Another done. Valentina checked the board, a three lit up by her name, a six by Emma’s and the countdown only had one-minute remaining. The auto-s machines whirred to life. Cloth began feeding into the cutting machine. Valentina put her head back down focusing on only this shirt. Then only the next one, and the next as the cutting machine clunked away and the stitcher spun.
Sweat fell into her eyes as she worked, her fingers dancing close to the needle as she expertly guided the cloth through turns to transform it into a shirt again and again.
The cutter beeped. A jam. Valentina thanked the auto-s for jamming, it would be at least a minute before it was in full run again. She glanced at the board. She was only ahead of the auto-s by 4. Donna and Mary had been behind the machine, but the jam might give them a chance to catch up. Emma was still in the lead. “Come on girls,” Valentina said quietly as she began her next shirt. The jam had been cleared and the auto-s began running again.
Another hour into the run and everything had been going smoothly when Valentina heard a loud smack. She glanced up from finishing the collar on the shirt she was working on to see Donna glaring angrily at the foreman and him holding his cheek. Valentina knew just what happened, the foreman was grabbing Donna again. He was always grabbing someone, the dirty old man. But the whole time Donna glared, the auto-s was eating away at the progress she had made, finishing two shirts before she got back to her stitching.
As Valentina finished her last shirt she looked up at the board, seeing she had finished her run only a single shirt ahead of the auto-s. Mary and Donna had never caught up to the machine. Valentina rushed over to help Donna finish but knew it was really no help to Donna, she would be fired once she finished. Mary didn’t even finish her run, but just walked out the bay door as the eight-o-clock shift was coming in. Emma had to finish off Mary’s run.
After a tearful farewell with Donna, cut short by the foreman calling for a shift meeting, Valentina and Emma were back at their stations working a second run. The eight-o-clock shift was larger, and there were men working, so the foreman never did the things to them that he did when it was just the five, now two, early shift girls.
All twenty of the auto-s machines were turned on for the rest of the day and by one in the afternoon there were two new ones being installed, with one on back order. New auto-seamstress machines were always a somber sight in the factory; each one was another job gone forever, one more person left to the streets. The foreman chose three new girls to be “volunteers” for the morning shift.
By five P.M. the back ordered auto-s had been installed. Normally Valentina would leave at five, but the foreman said she need to work one more run to make up for the pack of needles he gave her that morning. The shifts changed and the night shift began.
As she finished her last run, Valentina looked up to the board and saw that it was nearly nine. After cleaning up her station she went to the foreman for her pay for that day. He counted out forty-five dollars and handed it to her.
“I finished five runs today, Mr. Earl.” she protested being shorted by two runs worth of pay.
“One was to pay off the needles this morning, and one is for when I go visit Donna tonight.” He licked his lips as he thrust his hips forward. “But you can have it instead, if you want.”
“Ugh, gross” Valentina moaned as she turned away. The foreman laughed.
Valentina tried to run home to beat the night, but was too worn out, so she quickly slowed to a walk. Past the bars and bus stops. The drunk men called out to her as if she were a night girl. She rolled her eyes at them and kept walking home.
As she came to her block, she saw her sister and waved. Maria was talking to a man as they walked to his car. Valentina knew she didn't want to work the night like her sister, that’s why she kept working for the foreman. Everywhere jobs were being replaced by machines like the auto-s, there wouldn't be another job for her if she didn't.
Valentina payed the apartment manager in his little booth for electricity for the night and then climbed the stairs back up to the fourth floor, over the men and women who slept in the halls, one or two of whom she suspected were dead, but the police never came when she called about them. Her mother had put her dinner in the oven covered in foil and it had not yet become completely cold. Her two little sisters slept already. Valentina ate out on the fire escape and talked with her father as he sat smoking a cigarette. She took off her shoes and tied them to the rail, just like she did every night and kissed her father on the forehead.
Valentina handed him the rest of the money before heading in to take a shower. The water was lukewarm, but she didn't mind in the summer. After she brushed her hair, she pulled out her bed and laid it in the corner so that her sister Maria would not step on her if she came home drunk again. She plugged her phone into the outlet and set her alarm. It was already eleven P.M. She fell to sleep as soon as her eyes closed.
Three A.M.
Valentina climbed up out of bed and looked around to make sure her phone alarm had not woke up the rest of her family.
