Washing Away Greed

Holding his mop as he always did, Karl Jamison went to work on another ink stain near the mixer. He walked there always with ambition to do his duty. Never did he see this mundane task as a lowly, or simpleton’s position. He felt as though this was all he was cut out for and made it his priority to be the best at it, and he was. Thirty two years had gone by since he first washed away an ink stain at the Mint. These were thirty two years of cleaning the halls, basements, and tourist routes in a place he would call his first home.

He passed by many people on his way to the puddle of ink, but none of them ever noticed. They were too busy making sure the correct amounts of ink, color, and density of materials were in place. Not even the inspector that paced back and forth on the catwalk jotting down things on a clipboard no one ever saw took notice of Mr. Jamison. Karl never cared though. He made it his business not to get in their way. This is what made a good janitor, someone in the shadows keeping everything in order. As if to be in guerrilla warfare with dust bunnies as he liked to think of it.

His mop splashed down on the puddle of ink, though not with the conviction it once had some thirty years ago. And instead of the smooth stroke he once had mastered, it became a jittery, arthritis stricken motion that could not be controlled. This was a frustrating moment for Karl. It’s been bad before, but now he could only watch helplessly as the colors of the ink blended with his soaps. The swirl of ink mocked him on the white floor of the Mint Factory.

He stopped for a moment to view the walls of his home. He couldn’t bear to see stains anymore. They were an embarrassment to him. As if the guests he invites over would look at them and see an un-kept man. Through the silver coating of the machinery that ran the place, all the walls and floors were white. A pearl white that Karl made sure stayed that way, excluding this atrocity that lay before him. He peered down at his old mop. Most of it was held together by mud and grime over the years of cleaning the basement. The strings were falling apart. Much of what he cleaned was the fragments of his own mop.

No one ever noticed Karl when he was working. Suddenly, while staring at the ink stain he was confronted with the inspector. Karl thought his name was John, but was never really sure. This was a strange moment though, and caught him by surprise. The inspector never left his catwalk. At least, Karl’s never seen him leave. Trying to read Karl’s name tag, the inspector lifted it up with his pen to view it. The letters were all but washed away.

“What is your name janitor?” he said as if he commanded respect.

This startled Karl thinking after years of hard labor at the very least his name would be known. He responded with a smile none the less, “It is Karl Jamison sir.”

“Are you always this much of a slacker Karl? Or are the thousands of dollars worth of materials we put into cleanliness not enough for you?” There was a smug look on his face not even Karl thought he could wash away. He almost laughed when he heard they pour thousands of dollars into his position. Just looking down at his uniform gave him a smile he ought not to have in this situation. It was once a strong blue that over time has nearly become white from years of soaps and bleach splashing on him. Karl never minded though, looking at it in terms of the battles he’s fought keeping this place clean.

“I’m sorry sir. I need to get the kid down here to help me with this one.” Karl tried to turn away from his inspector on that note. He wouldn’t have it though.

“We don’t need two men to clean an ink stain,” with his back turned, Karl could almost feel the next set of words coming; “I believe we’ll have to let you go. You’ve outworn your usefulness here. The American dollar should be perfect. I expect nothing less from the employees making them.”

Karl couldn’t believe his ears. Never did he think he could be let go so easily. He always felt like he was a vital asset to the company. Turning to the inspector, Karl gave what he could to keep his job, “You can’t just fire me like that. I’ve been here for thirty two years. No one knows this place better than I do.”

The inspector laughed a bit. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he had weird way of showing compassion. “Karl, I’m sorry. I was told to look for any reason to get rid of all the janitors. It’s nothing personal. We’re simply upgrading to a self automated cleaning system. Be out by the end of the week alright?”

Karl wondered if those were supposed to be words of comfort. As he watched the inspector walk away, he knew it didn’t matter. There was nothing anyone could say to help him now.

His good friend Jimmy came through the doors with his broom. “Hey old man, it’s lunch time. Just because this is the Mint doesn’t mean you have to make it smell like one,” he said calling out to Karl as he often did. Karl laughed at the kid. If there was someone who could always lighten his mood, it was Jimmy.

Standing in the doorway of the cafeteria with his lunch in hand, Karl felt lost. His usual routine had been shaken by the bad news. He had lost the encouragement to continue an average day. This day was anything but average. Staring at the cafeteria, he came to notice something that never really caught his attention before. Everyone sat in their own groups, the machine operators, the ink mixers, the tour guides, even the janitors all sat at separate tables. Jimmy waved him over.

“Hey kid,” Karl said sitting down.

“What’s the matter Karl? Usually you’re the first one to the table,” Jimmy said with a mouthful of food.

“Just a stubborn stain by the mixers again.”

“Oh, come on old man. No stain could keep you from lunch.”

“Drop it kid. Just do me a favor and don’t screw up today,” Karl said sternly.

Karl wasn’t in the mood to make small talk. He didn’t really want to eat lunch today either. His ham sandwich didn’t have the same flavor it once had. He set it down half finished and walked away.

Everything for Karl changed as he walked the halls of the Mint. The beautiful white he absorbed himself in turned a lonely gray. The light grew dim as he entered the main floor. There was a different smell as he entered. Instead of the usual smell of pine sol, he caught the scent of ink drying near him. There he saw the normal finished product of the Mint, hundreds of one dollar bills piled up before him. He never took much time to appreciate them in the past. Usually he’d check underneath to make sure there wasn’t any run off from the ink. This time was different. He gazed at the Washington’s with a questionable look about him.

“Come on Karl, what’s bugging you?” Jimmy said walking up behind him.

“Have you ever stared at the money Jim? I mean really gave it a good look,” Karl said entranced by the bills.

“Yeah, we’ve all thought about it Karl.”

“We pass by it every day and I’ve never once thought about it. There’s a lot of it here Jimmy.”

Jimmy patted Karl on the back, “That’s what makes you Karl man. Come on, let’s get back to work. We’ve got the late shift tonight remember, we finish early and it’s two hours of poker.” Jim left him alone. The glimmer of the wet ink caught Karl’s eye for the first time. Thirty two years of cleaning around the bills, he finally came to realize they existed. They were in his reach all this time, every day, but he decided to look for dirt. He passed his hand over a dry pile of them. There was not a wrinkle on a single bill. They were smooth, untouched, and clean, something money was never known for.

The late shift didn’t come as soon as it normally did. Karl wasn’t as busy as he normally was. He simply didn’t care anymore. Instead, he was wrapped in an idea he’d been brewing up after lunch. No one knew this building better than he did. He knew when the presses stopped, when the guards changed shifts, when the alarm reset to check for malfunctions. Karl sat on his bucket turned upside down thinking of the best route he could take. He wasn’t sure exactly what came over him, nor did he try and question it. The exhilaration knowing he had a good chance to get away with it encouraged him. For the first time he gave it actual thought.

The night shift came and Karl slowly got up from his bucket. He went to the window to watch everyone leave. It was just him and a few of his janitor buddies left in the Mint. It was always like that on a Monday night. Without hesitation, Karl decided to put his plans into action.

They would always lock up the plates before the shift ended in the machines. All Karl had to do was open them up with his keys. With his seniority, he had the access to every room, floor, and office in the Mint. No one ever questioned this, and no one ever cared. He went to the security room to make sure everything was in place. The late shift guards were always late, giving Karl time to play with the cameras and alarms. He always used to watch how the guards operated the equipment at night during their poker games.

Karl wasn’t aware that Jimmy was already inside. “What are you doing Karl? Were the lights off on the cameras again? You should just wait and let Mason fix them.” He ignored what Jimmy said finishing up. “Hey, you’ve been acting weird all day Karl. What’s going on?” Jim said with an angry tone.

“Pretend I’m not here kid. You’re better off that way.”

Jimmy got up and grabbed his arm. “What do you mean pretend you’re not here? I’m not jumping to conclusions, but if you’re doing what I think you’re doing I’m putting a stop to it.”

Karl’s hands began to shake again. They trembled with the idea to fight back and get him out of the way. He couldn’t do that to Jim though, “Look Jim, I’m not the man you want me to be. I’m not even the man I want to be. But tonight I’ve got to set some things straight.”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you Karl, but this isn’t what you want.”

“It’s never been about what I want Jim, that’s exactly the point. I’ve been nothing but a saint on a salary not even the Pope would accept. Day after day I bust my ass and for what? I clean up everyone else’s mess and never get a thank you, or even a good morning. I got fired today from a guy who didn’t even know my name. I’ll never be remembered for this. No one cares.” Karl points out of the window to the main floor below. “You see that ink stain I told you about earlier? Well, it’s still down there. No one said a word. I sat on my pale all day without anyone noticing I was gone. It’s high time I get what I’ve earned! It seems no one cares enough to give it to me.”

“I cared Karl,” Jim said with his voice all but lost.

“You cared? That’s a laugh. That stain wouldn’t be there if you cared.”

“You’ve always taken care of your duties Karl. That’s what was great about you. It wasn’t money that drove you from one mess to another. I figured you’d get to it by the end of the day.”

“Don’t look to me as a role model kid.” Karl began to walk out of the security room making his way to the unguarded plates.

“You were the only one I had to look to.” Karl forgot Jimmy’s parents were never there for him. Half of the jokes they threw around to each other on poker night were about his parents to make him feel better. Karl stopped in his tracks as the door shut behind him. He sat down on the stairs and dropped his head in his hands. Jimmy came through the door to see his friend at his lowest state.

“You were never just a janitor to me Karl. Sure, they got rid of you, I won’t ask why, but this job didn’t define you. No job can. It’s what we have to do, sure, but it’s how we carry it out that matters. I’ve never seen anyone who cared so much about janitorial work. If you go through with this, there will be a stain on your dignity no amount of scrubbing will get up. If its recognition you’re looking for, I’ll give it to you freely, you don’t need to steal it.”

Karl raised his head from his trembling hands. He looked to Jim but didn’t say anything. He rushed away from him and headed to his destination. “Karl!” It was too late. Karl was on his way to finishing what he started. Jim rushed up to the security window. He held his hand over the alarm just waiting for Karl to ruin his life. Seeing Karl below dragging his mop behind him Jim set his hand down and smiled. Walking over to the ink stain, he scrubbed it with all his might. His old mop and his shaky hands held up for one last wash. It came up quicker than he thought and the floor couldn’t have been whiter.