A Bit of a Lift for Rookie Demp! by Dave Rigby

Reginald Demp.

That’s what it says on his birth certificate.

He doesn’t mind the surname.

Even though it’s odd,

They didn’t take the mick out of it at school,

But they didn’t hold back on Reginald, Reggie and Reg!

***

The take-away from school

Was a couple of ‘O’ Levels and a bundle of odd memories.

But now he’s got himself a job on a building site, a new office block,

A short bike ride from home.

The new boy on the site, new boots, new overalls,

… and a new name, ‘The Rookie’,

Courtesy of Bob the foreman.

Most people would run a mile from such a name,

But Rookie likes it. Reginald, Reggie and Reg are no more.

He has a new identity.

***

The next day, Bob is showing him the ropes. Very basic. No knots.

They walk across the compound. Bob introduces him to the lift,

A metal cage attached to the side of the new building.

Bob pulls back the gate, they step in, the gate is closed, protesting noisily.

A button is pushed and the ground drops away!

Rookie grabs the side of the cage, holds on for dear life.

Doesn’t dare to look down.

Bob grins. You’ll get used to it.

After what seems like hours, but is actually just a minute,

The cage jolts to a halt at the top of the building.

The tenth floor. Still only half-finished.

Rookie staggers out, breathes in deeply,

Tries to take in the fine view of the hills that Bob is rabbiting on about.

Feels slightly better, until the return journey beckons,

Resists the temptation to close his eyes or hyperventilate and instead

Listens to Bob, who’s still talking ropes, all the way down.

In the canteen, he finds a seat on a bench, sandwiched between burly men,

And takes the mug of tea and the bacon roll that appear from nowhere.

Bob is still talking. Introduces The Rookie.

Our new lift operator, he tells the crowded room.

The Rookie laughs, thinking it’s a joke.

All the others laugh, knowing it isn’t.

***

A couple of days later, standing in the compound, he hears a shout,

Looks up to the very top of the building,

Shades his eyes against the sun and adjusts his hard hat,

Which is slightly too big.

It’s Stobart, needing a ride down.

Rookie presses the button and the cage judders upwards.

He sits on the floor and gazes through the narrow gaps between the boards,

Towards the slowly receding compound beneath.

It’s his favourite position. And the cage is now his favourite place.

Because it’s his. He’s in charge, has repelled the demons and made the cage his own.

Strapped to the cage-side, is his transistor radio, permanently tuned to newly-minted Radio 1.

Turn it up, his passengers shout, on their way up and down the side of the building.

And Hey Rookie, what’s this tune?

He knows all the tunes. Passes all their tests.

To one side of the radio, there’s now a bookshelf with a few of his favourite reads, well-strapped in.

Detective stories in the main,

Met with jeers initially,

But then one or two ask for a borrow. Then one or two more.

And to the other side there’s a mirror, more initial jeers,

But Rookie had noticed how the men, on their way to clock off,

Would try and use the grimy canteen windows for a bit of not-so-subtle preening,

Combs at the ready to re-set Brylcreemed hair.

And now they’ve a proper mirror, in a wooden frame.

The cage reaches the tenth floor.

There’s Stobart … and fourteen others waiting to get on

Rookie might look like a pushover, but he runs a tight ship,

And uses all of his five foot seven to enforce the rules.

As the sign says, it’s twelve men max in the cage.

The three extras will have to wait for the next Rookie trip,

Which will be along soon.

"Science Garden building site outside Millennium Point - Danger Keep Out - sign" by ell brown is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.