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#do pick_have = true; pick_used = false; idea = false;

Tim Burr is a logger. Some say he couldn't be otherwise.

He grinds the truck out of the fuel station. From the passenger’s seat, Carl eyes a row of boarded-up shops.

carl

We’re lucky to have jobs. Not much demand for an aging bike mechanic. Mary, she’s good with the baby, but I need to take care of them both.

As Tim, you grunt approval. Your situation is much the same. Minus Mary and baby.


carl

Thanks for taking me on. I couldn’t afford …

tim

I couldn’t afford it either. Not on my own. Bank owns the truck, but I figure this cab is mine, so we’re safe to sit.

You share a grin and silence settles over the cab. Fact is, the road is lonely and Carl is the closest you have to family.


💡 Carl helps others help themselves.


Rising plumes of steam to the west signal the mill’s location. You begin to gear down the big rig.

carl

They say whether this's first cut or clean-up?

The gate is up, but the gateway's blocked by a dozen people.

tim

Don’t know. Clean up, probably. We’re to check in at the office. It apprears, however, that the company has company.


“Turn back!” shouts someone standing square in the middle of the entrance to the mill. Destiny’s choir is tuning up in the distance.

fates

Tim Burr signed on for a logging job with the pulp and paper mill. His first day found the main gate blocked. From there it went downhill.

Protesters bar the main entrance, with shouts to close it down. Tim listens to them patiently. There’s no other work in town.


fates

The mill’s methods are rough and crude. They take more than they give. Tim has heard it all before. Still, how’s a guy to live?

Honour the protest, turn around, or honour his job contract. He’s forced to face them both, but on one must turn his back.


carl

I saw a lot of boarded-up shops back there.

tim

There’ll be more if the mill shuts down.


A dozen outsiders mill about the mill’s entrance, blocking passage. One gal waves a hand-painted sign. Your foot rests firmly on the brake lest the truck idle forward and nudge the picketer.


The sign reads Save the Trees. A sign that big doesn't seem to have saved many trees. Rather ironic. A good gust of wind could send the petite picketer sailing.


Nudging a protester with your truck might seem a tad hostile. Somebody could get run-over. Somebody could get jail time.

Carl cranks down the passenger’s side window.

carl

Hey, what’s this all about? Some of us work for a living. We’ve got logs to haul, lady, so kindly step aside.

The picketer with the poster strolls closer. She glances at Carl, then at you and snaps a bubble of gum.


Picket

Like Frankie says, ya hafta turn 'round. This here mill's wasteful. Like, log to toothpick wasteful. We're gonna hit 'em where it hurts: in the wallet. Close it down, they'll turn around. Kinda like you two hafta do right now.

She snaps her gum again and walks back to the picket line, waving her sign.


Your logging truck idles in front of the mill's entrance, blocked by a handful of picketers.

#test idea === true #iftrue

carl

Cross the blockade or go unpaid. Calls for some perspective.The loggers can see that, if the company can't.

tim

Waste's bad for the environment, but also for us. Fewer trees, fewer jobs. Let's get other loggers to agree. Maybe they can't fire us all.

❦

Replay?


#test idea === false #iftrue

carl

This calls for courage, Tim. Do what you believe is right despite opposition.

tim

What are you saying?

carl

Have confidence. Act on conviction even if it’s unpopular.

tim

I believe we need this job.

carl

Then back this truck up to the crowd. We’ll disperse them with exhaust from the truck or scatter them with the shrill of an air horn.

tim

Maybe we missed something in translation. Wave her over here again.


#do idea = true

💡 The picketers want the mill to be less wasteful.