Wheels (60 page)

Despite
this, he continued to be short of money himself.
In June, he began peddling drugs.
Rollie hadn't wanted to. Increasingly, as he became involved with plant
rackets, he had a sense of being sucked in against his will, incurring the
danger of exposure, arrest and-a dread which haunted him-a return to
prison with a long sentence. Others who had no criminal records, though
their activities were illegal, ran a lesser risk than himself. If caught
and charged, they would be treated as first offenders. Rollie wouldn't.
It had been a growing anxiety on that score which made him morose and
worried the night of the Auto City filming-also in June-in Rollie's and
May Lou's apartment. Leonard Wingate, the company Personnel man, had
sensed Rollie's deep-seated worry, but they had not discussed it.
Rollie also discovered, around that time, that it was easier to begin
involvement with the rackets than to opt out. Big Rufe made that plain
when Rollie demurred after being told he would be a part of the chain
which brought marijuana and LSD into plants and distributed the drugs.
Months earlier, when the two had been side by side at a plant urinal,
it was Big Rufe who approached Rollie with a hint about recruitment
into plant crime. And now that the hint had become f act, it was clear
that Big Rufe had a part in most of the illegal action going on.
"Don't cut no slice o' that pie for me," Rollie had insisted, when the
subject of drug traffic came up. "You get some other dude, hear
.”

They were on work break, talking behind a row of storage bins near the
assembly line, and shielded from the view of others. Big Rufe had
scowled. "You stink scared
.”

"Maybe
.”

Boss don't like scared cats. Makes him nervous
.”

Rollie knew better than to ask who the boss was. He was certain that
one existed-probably somewhere outside the plant-just as it was obvious
that an organization existed, Rollie having seen evidence of it not
long before.
One night, after his shift ended, instead of leaving, he and a half
dozen others had remained inside the plant gates. Ahead of time they had
been warned to make their way singly and inconspicuously to the Scrap and
Salvage area. When they arrived, a truck was waiting and the group loaded
it with crates and cartons already stacked nearby. It was obvious to
Rollie that what was being loaded was new, unused material, and not scrap
at all. It included tires, radios, and air conditioners in cases, and some
heavy crates
which required loading with a hoist-and marked as containing
transmissions.
The first truck left, a second came, and for three hours altogether the
loading went on, openly, and although it was after dark and this portion
of the plant saw little night
time traffic, lights were blazing. Only
toward the end did Big Rufe, who had appeared and disappeared several
times, look around him nervously and urge everyone to hurry. They had, and
eventually the second truck had gone too, and everyone went home.
Rollie had been paid two hundred dollars for the three hours he had helped
load what was clearly a big haul of stolen goods. Equally evident was that
the behind-scenes organization was efficient and large-scale, and there
must have been payoffs to get the trucks safely in and out of the plant.
Later, Rollie learned that the transmissions and other items could be
bought cheaply at some of the many hot-rod shops around Detroit and
Cleveland; also that the outflow through the Scrap and Salvage yard had
been one of many.
"Guess you bought yourself a pack o' trouble by knowin' too much," Big
Rufe had said when he and Rollie had their talk behind the storage bins.
"That'd make the big boss nervous too, so if he figured you wasn't with
us no more, he'd likely arrange a little party on the parking lot
.”

Rollie understood the message. So many beatings and muggings had occurred
recently on the huge employee parking lots that even security patrols went
around in pairs. Just the day before, a young black worker had been beaten
and robbed -the beating so savage that he was hovering, in hospital,
between life and death.
Rollie shuddered.
Big Rufe grunted and spat on the floor. 'Teah, man, I'd sure think about
that if I was you
.”

In the end, Rollie went along with drug peddling, partly because of Big
Rufe's threat, but also because he desperately needed money. The second
garnishee of his wages in June had been followed by Leonard Wingate's
financial austerity program, which left barely enough each week for Rollie
and May Lou to live on, and nothing over to pay backloans.
Actually, the drug arrangement worked out easily, making him wonder if
perhaps he had worried too much after all. He was glad that just marijuana
and LSD were involved, and not heroin which was a riskier traffic. There
was horse moving through the plant, and he knew workers who had habits.
But a heroin addict was unreliable and likely to get caught, then under
interrogation name his supplier.
Marijuana, on the other hand, was a pushover. The FBI and local police had
told auto company managements confidentially that they would not
investigate marijuana activity where less than one pound of the drug was
involved. The reason was simple-a shortage of investigating officers. This
information leaked, so that Rollie and others were careful to bring small
amounts into the plant each time.
The extent of marijuana use amazed even Rollie. He discovered that more
than half of the people working around him smoked two to three
15 joints a day and many admitted it was the drug which kept them going. "For
Cri-sakes," a regular purchaser from Rollie asserted, "if a guy wasn't
spaced out, how else could he stand this rat run
.”

Just a half joint, he
said, gave him a lift which lasted several hours.
Rollie heard another worker tell a foreman who had cautioned him for being
obvious about marijuana use, "If you fired everybody smoking pot, you
wouldn't build any cars around here
.”

Another effect of Rollie's drug peddling was that he was able to get
squared away with the loan sharks, leaving some spare money which he used
to indulge in pot himself. It was true, he found, that a day on the
assembly line could be endured more easily if you were spaced, and you
could get the work done too.
Rollie did manage to work to the continuing satisfaction of Frank
Parkland, despite his extra activities which, in fact, took little time.
Because of his lack of seniority, he was laid off during two of the four
weeks when the plant shut down for changeover to Orion production, then
resumed work when the first Orions began to come down the line.
He took a keen interest in the Orion, describing it to May Lou when he
returned from his first day of working on it, as "Hot pants wheels I" It
even seemed to affect Rollie sexually because he added, 'We gonna lay a
lotta pipe tonight," at which May Lou giggled, and later they did, Rollie
thinking about wheels most of the time and the chances of getting an Orion
himself.
All was going well, it seemed, and for a while Rollie Knight almost forgot
his own credo: Nuthun'lasts.
Until the last week of August, when he had cause to remember.
The message from Big Rufe came to RoWe's
work station via the stock man, Daddy-o Lester. The next night there would
be some action. At the end of Rollie's shift tomorrow he was to stay in the
plant. Between now and then he would be given more instructions.
Rollie yawned in Daddy-o's face. "I'll check my engagement book, man
.”

'-fou so smart," Daddy-o threw back, "but you don't hipe me. You'll be
there
.”

Rollie knew he would be, too, and since the last after-shift episode at
the Scrap and Salvage area produced an easy two hundred dollars, he
assumed tomorrow's would be the same. Next day, however, the instructions
he received half an hour before his work day ended were not what he
expected. Rolhe-so Daddy-o informed him-was to take his time about leaving
the assembly line, hang around until the night shif t began work, then go
to the locker and washup area where others would meet him, including
Daddy-o and Big Rufe.
Thus, when the quitting whistle shrilled, instead of joining the normal
frenzied scramble for exits to the parking lots and bus stations, Rollie
ambled away, stopping at a vending machine area to buy a Coke. This took
longer than usual because the machines were temporarily out of use and
being emptied of cash by two collectors from the vending company. Rollie
watched while a stream of silver coins cascaded into canvas sacks. When
a machine was available he bought his drink, waited a few minutes more,
then took it to the employees' locker-washup room.
This was drab and cavernous, with a wet cement floor and a permanent stink
of urine. A row of big stone washup basins-"bird baths"
was set centrally,
at each of which a dozen men normally performed ablutions at once.
Lockers, urinals, toilets without doors, crowded the remaining space.
Rollie rinsed his bands and face at a bird bath and mopped with paper
towels. He had the wash
up area to himself since by now the day shift had
gone and, outside, the new shift was settling down to work. Workers from
it would begin drifting in here soon, but not yet.
An outside door opened. Big Rufe entered, moving quietly for a man of
his bulk. He was scowling and looking at his wrist watch. Big Rufe's
shirt sleeves were rolled back, the muscles rippling in his raised
forearm. He motioned for silence as Rollie joined him.
Seconds later, Daddy-o Lester came through the same door that Big Rufe
had used. The young black was breathing hard, as if he had been running;
sweat glistened on his forehead and on the scar running the length of
his face.
Big Rufe said accusingly, I told you, hurry it . .
.”

I did! They runnin' late. Had trouble at one stand. Somethin' jammed,
took longer
.”

Daddy-o's voice was high-pitched and nervous, his usual
swagger gone.
"Where they now
.”

"South cafeteria. Leroy's watchin' out. He'll meet us where we said
.”

"South cafeteria's those guys' last stop
.”

Big Rufe told the others,
"Let's move it
.”

Rollie stood where he was. "Move Where? An' what
.”

"Now get on this fast
.”

Big Rufe kept his voice low, his eyes on the
outer door. "We gonna bust the vending machine guys. The whole deal's
planned-a cincheroo. They carry a big load, 'n we got four guys to their
two. You get a cut
.”

I don't want it! Don't know enough
.”

"Want it or not, you got it. You got this, too
.”

Big Rufe pressed a
snub-nosed automatic into Rollie's hand.
41
He protested, "No I"
"What's the difference? You done time for armed. Now, if you carryin' a
piece or you ain't, you get the same
.”

Big Rufe shoved Rollie ahead of him
roughly. As they left the locker-was
h
up room, instinctively Rollie pushed
the pistol out of sight into his trousers waistband.
They hastened through the plant, using out
of-the-way routes and keeping
clear of observation -not difficult for anyone knowing the layout well.
Though Rollie had not been inside the south cafeteria, which was a small
one used by supervisors and foremen, he knew where it was. Presumably it
had a battery of vending machines, as had the employees' area where he
bought his Coke.
Over his shoulder, hurrying with the others, Rollie asked, "Why me
.”