Under the glow of the moon

The gentle rain that's been falling for the past two days completely melted what was left of the dirty winter gray that had draped the Acme plant in the suburban industrial park across the valley. The afternoon promised to be as gloriously bright and sunny as Acme's recent economic fortunes. Orders have drawn down the finished goods inventory and production lines are running at an easy lope, a situation not seen in several years.

Acme is relatively fortunate compared to other industrial plants in the area. Some of these troubled enterprises simply didn't have enough staying power to make it through the rough times. Now, with their buildings shuttered and parking lots as empty as the prospects of their former owners and employees, they will never again be contributing even one thin dime to the county's tax coffers.

Those that weathered the storm did so with minimal staffing levels and zero outlay for engineering and maintenance. With business picking up, they again find a need for technical talent to augment the labor pool that's been turning out product. Unfortunately, the people who once provided that brainpower, having been laid off, moved on to bigger and better opportunities and are no longer available. Most wouldn't return, even if they had the opportunity.

"The whole situation is perfect for me," declared Mabel Lee Fragg, the up-and-coming half of Acme's maintenance engineering department. "Getting my little consulting business started was relatively easy. I went to a few Chamber of Commerce meetings, got to know some folks, sent out a few fliers and e-mails to local plant managers and -- what do you know -- some needed my help."

"That doesn't surprise me, Mabel. You're a damned good engineer and a workaholic," replied Ed Selford, Acme's sales manager, as they ate lunch together in the company cafeteria.

"C'mon, Ed, I'm not that bad," she retorted. "I still have a social life. Heck, the consulting is easy. Every plant in the area is doing pretty much the same kind of work. And I'm just doing it to help make ends meet. Think about it. Nobody here has seen a pay raise in more than three years."

"I know what you mean," Ed said. "We're enhancing cash flow by delaying payment on everything, including our commissions and employee expense accounts. What about your husband, though. Is he OK with your side jobs?"

"He's my biggest backer since he isn't working anymore," Mabel said sadly. "His job with that no-name fast food franchise ended 18 months ago. I guess they didn't need a regional service technician."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," Ed replied. "How are you guys doing?"

"It's a struggle, hence the consulting," Mabel said. "One example. We're homeowners. But, so much industry here bit the dust, property taxes have shifted from the business to the residential sector. The assessment and rate hikes are hefty, and it's starting to cost us some serious money. Entrepreneurialism is the order of the day, especially after the head of the Fed just told us not to expect any payments from that great Washingtonian myth, Social Security. I'm just doing what I must to survive."

That afternoon, Mabel was in the plant field checking dimensions to ensure there was enough space available to convert Number 3 line into Acme's fourth manufacturing cell, a concept she championed to the highest levels in the organization. Her analysis showed that, in this particular instance, the production modifications exhibited a stunning positive net present value. This promises to be the most profitable changeover she's made. Mabel was feeling quite confident this project, like several of the others she handled, was going to be recognized as more than merely another program-of-the-month. Her reverie was cut short by a nasal, high-pitched drawling. "Mabel, I need to talk with you."

Recognizing that voice, Mabel cringed as she turned around to face Tom Fullery, Acme's assistant deputy plant manager in training, and cousin of Acme's CEO.

"Who, exactly, do you think you're working for these days?" Tom asked.

"I don't understand your question, Tom," Mabel said, somewhat edgily. "I work for Acme. I thought you would have realized that fact when you can plainly see my Acme badge, my Acme windbreaker, my Acme hard hat and my Acme notebook."

"I'm talking about you giving competitors our company secrets," Tom sneered. "We know what you're doing, Mabel."

"It's too late in the day to talk about it, Tom," Mabel said in the calmest tone of voice she could summon under the circumstances. "I was under the impression that what I did on my own time wasn't any of your business. And your accusation is totally unwarranted and, quite frankly, I find both it and you quite insulting."

"You know what I'm talking about," Tom replied, his high-pitched drawl starting to sound like chalk on a blackboard. "You're probably even using our telephones to run your side business. And all our other equipment as well."

"Tom, let me simplify things for you," she sighed hopelessly. "Even I can afford my own fax machine, paper, computer and software. Besides, what I do on my own time is really for Acme's benefit. I'm broadening my horizons. Look at it as continuing education, something that's already demonstrated a payoff for Acme. Just look around you, check the records. Talk to people who know."

"I already talked to people who count," Tom said with a sneering grin, as he handed her an envelope. "We couldn't wait for you to pick up your e-mail."

Mabel remained silent as she opened the envelope and read a memo that instructed her to report to the executive conference room before she went home to explain her off-hours activities. "It looks to me like you could stand to broaden your own horizons, sonny," Mabel replied as she walked toward the offices.