The work is backbreaking: constant lifting, carrying, bending…. Lifting again….
At the end of the day, the stall must be disassembled and the heavy steel parts, icy in stiff hands, stacked back in the wagon. There has been plenty of hot tea and coffee to drink, but she hasn’t eaten.
But she’s going to be paid….
“Hey, Mitch, Here's your cash.”
Stepping smartly, she takes the money, then her smile fades. She starts at the coins in her hands. “Is that all?”
“What did you expect working for cash? I can't pay you the full rate. Anyway, how old are you?”
“I’m not a child. And I did a full day’s work.”
“Got some ID? Then I can put you on the books?” Her face falls. “Yeah, that’s what I thought…. You going to come back next week?”
Dumbly, she turns, making her way along the ranks of the ra
