Isaac yelled. The group of men, some standing and the rest on their knees, parted slightly to allow Isaac, the foreman at Sheepville, through. “Dice? You’re playing dice?” he asked incredulously. I scooped the dice off the floor, leaving the coins and a couple of bills sitting in front of the players. “And worst yet, gambling!” People seemed to edge slightly away, as though they were trying to distance themselves from the action. “This isn’t what you’re paid to do. All of you get back to work!” “Come on, Isaac, it’s our lunch break,” one of the men, Samuel, protested. “Lunch break or not, you have to stop playing.” “I’m down too much money to stop now,” Samuel said. “Me too!” added a second. “And me as well!” a third voice complained. “You can’t all be losing. Somebody has to be winning.” “Somebody is … the kid.” Isaac looked at me with that look of disapproval I’d come to know so well during my week and a half working at Sheepville.
