It Pays the Bills [Work/Morning]

He could feel the familiar vibrations of the hydraulics through his body, though thankfully did not need to hear it, courtesy of the acoustic earmuffs on the sides of the bright yellow safety helmet currently strapped to his head. The forks on the forklift stirred to life, the wooden pallet letting out a creak of protest as it was raised off the ground. One glove-clad finger stayed on the lever, while the other held onto the steering wheel, green eyes staring with sharp focus as the load slowly rose higher.

Finally, it was at what he thought was an appropriate height, Xander would give a light nod, before his finger came off the lever. The hand shifted, pulling on another lever, and the entire section with the forks tilted back so the pallet wouldn't slip off. His head then turned to the right, followed by the left, beforeturning to face forward again, eyes trailing up to the rear-view mirror. No one there either. He'd shift gears, and the forklift began to back up. A turn of the wheel and a shift of the gearstick would have the forklift now slowly turning to the left as it rolled onwards. This wasn't his first song and dance with the machine, but it was still an anxiety-fest. These damn earmuffs, combined with the relatively high volume within the echo-y warehouse meant he was almost completely deprived of his hearing.

"Slow and steady, slow and steady." Xander muttered as he guided the machine inbetween the large shelves. There were other workers further down, unpacking one of the ground-level pallets. But that wasn't his task. No, instead he slowed down as he glanced over the number plates bolted onto the metal shelf. He slowed the forklift down to a halt, then pulled out a clipboard that had been sitting between his shins. the youths eyes scanned across the tiny font on the clipboard, before darting over to the shelf again, and then to a large printed sticker on the pile of items atop the pallet.

His eyes jumped between these three. He didn't want to get yelled t again for shelving pallets in the wrong place. After the fifth or sixth check over, he finally nodded again, before flicking the gearstick again. The slowly turning forklift would back up, before rolling back forward, now turning to face the shelf. His hand on the wheel trembled as he gently pushed down on the pedal, inching the forklift forward. The pile atop the pallet was pretty tall, there was only inches of room to spare above and below it. "Easy, eaaaaasy..." He uttered under his breath as the pallet slowly but surely slipped onto the shelf.

Thankfully, nothing snagged, nothing broke. Breathing a small sigh of relief, he shiffted the gear into neutral, before brining his hands to the levers controlling the fork. The fork section would tilt forward, until the forks were level again, then he would begin to lower, until they we no longer holding up the pallet. Keeping his eye on the forks and the pallet, one hand would shift the gear into reverse, return the steering wheel to centered, and finally began pushing down on the pedal. Again going slow, the forks slipped free.

Another sigh of relief. He then picked up the clipboard again, and pulled out a pen, putting down a checkmark next to pallet number, before shifting his gaze to his left. One, two ,three... He began counting out the pallets still left to shelve, pointing at each in turn with the pen still in hand. That was when he could hear... something. It wasn't the sound of the forklift, or any of the trucks coming in or out. He could hear it again, and he'd reach up to pull aside one of the earmuffs.

"Xay? Xay? You awake?" The voice was coming from behind him, so he turned in his seat, to see one of the other warehouse workers addressing him. Xander merely stared at the other, still holding on of the earmuffs in hand."Hey Xay, dunno if you noticed, but its already time for lunch break. You wanna come with?" The young man, probably no older than sixteen, addressed him in a cheery tone. Lunch did sound nice, and he hadn't realized that so much time had passed. He wasn't so sure if he cared for company tho-  "Xay?" The other cut his thought process off. Can't a man have a moment to think here.

"Sure. Sure thing, James. You guys go on ahead, I'll need to go park the forklift." His tone was a little awkward, forcefully calm, but the response seemed to be sufficient for his coworker. The younger male nodded, and turned to leave. He said something, but by then Xander had replaced the earmuff, muffling out whatever pointless noise came out of the others voicehole. So he shifts gears again, and turns the forklift to drive it over to somewhere he could park it.

The forklift rolled to a stop, and he put the brakes on, picking up his clipboard as he got off the machine. Xander's free hand came up to flip up the earmuffs on his helmet. "Xander?" A voice, one of greater age, called out to him. The young man suppressed a groan and turned to face the voice, A gruff-looking man, probably in his early 50s. "How are those pallets coming along?" The man asked, his voice having a hint of frustration to it.

"Eleven pallets are on the designated shelves, five more to go, but one of those has a damage ID label." He explained, offering the clipboard to the man, who took it and had a look. "I'll finish those other pallets when I get back from my lunch break. I'm guessing it's shipping and receiving's problem to deal with that damaged label?" The older man offered a grunt and a nod. He'd stare at the clipboard for a moment, before handing it back. "I'll tell them to fix it. If it ain't fixed byt the time you get back, go find Sam in his office. Understood?"

Xander would offer his own nod in return. "Crystal clear."

[Word Count: 1029]