He was Just a Good Old Boy

It had been way over twelve months since I had last slept in my own bed. I was actually looking forward to it. A huge storm in the ocean that was coming in towards us had caused me to order the shutting down of all the oil rigs pumping oil completely. It was a huge decision, but it had to be made.

Based on the latest meteorologists' reports I would not risk further drilling on this new site until the weather cleared. This was the sixth well I was drilling in this area in a row, and I did not want to have any major problems that would end up putting us six months behind while adding millions to the bottom line.

The weather that was coming in was slow-moving and appeared to be rotating as it grew in size and strength leaving mass destruction behind. The powers that be believed we were in for a direct hit but said it was my call. That was typical of the big shots that sat in their offices in blue suits. If it was called the wrong way, I would be the fall guy. If I called it right, they would take the credit.

Each of the five oil-producing rigs in the area was twenty nautical miles apart in a horizontal row. Because of the rock formation beneath the top of the seabed, we were drilling once again at a forty-five-degree angle to reach the oil and natural gas buried below.

We had spent the last two hundred and twenty hours pulling up our drills and capping all the pipelines near the bottom of the seabed. It had required precision timing with our deepwater diving crew. The shutting off of the wells at the seabed level had to be done manually and took about an hour to complete. The key was keeping as much as the saltwater out. Thankfully it had all gone rather smoothly.

The oil flow to the producing rigs was cut off at the seabed in case the hurricane that was coming through did damage to our surface structures. All the crude that had been collected had been transferred to the tankers for safe transfer to the mainland.

All piping pulled up, sealed at both ends, and then locked down. This was done to ensure that none of the pipping would sink to the bottom if they broke loose. We had learned from BP's mistakes that there was no room for error. We needed for those pipe sections to say afloat.

A helicopter had brought the remaining few of us back to the coast. As per company policy we needed to and wanted to leave as little an environmental footprint as possible. Under my watch, I swore we would never have a BP type of situation facing us.

I was not scheduled to be off for another two months so I knew my arrival at home would be a complete surprise. I was looking forward to seeing my wife, our kids and our next-door neighbors who we had become good friends with.

The nice thing about my position in the company I had a base rate of pay year-round even if I was sitting at home, but the major bucks were made when I was actually on the oil rigs. Over the last three years, it had paid off greatly. I was on the rigs basically eighty-five percent of the time which tripled my base pay before the overtime which for me was about thirty-two hours a week. When on the rigs it was customary to work twelve-hour shifts. When we were drilling, we only stopped when I was exhausted.

People with my expertise and knowledge in angle drilling were considered hard to find and were paid accordingly. So far, I had a perfect record I had not lost one drilling site yet. Thanks to the booming economy in the United States drilling for oil was the busiest it had even been. As a result, I was being paid top dollar because they couldn't find someone to replace me. The market for people with my skills was just that tight.

When I had originally gotten the latest promotion over five years ago, I had decided I wanted to retire early. So, with human resources cooperation, I had my paycheck divided in three ways when I was on the rigs.

Four o ones had always got the max since day one. Twenty-five percent automatically got transferred to my investment broker and the rest went directly into my wife and my bank account. What had gone into our joint account had been amazing. Having done that for the last five years I had been building a lot of security thanks to how well the stock market and the economy was doing.

My wife and I had agreed years ago that once our house account reached a certain level, we would start putting huge bulk payments on our mortgage. Any excess after it was paid off would be split once a month and put in separate savings accounts. As a result, over the last twenty years of marriage, I had already emptied my savings account four times when it reached the maximum insured amount by the feds and turned it over to my investor manager.

My investment broker had been instructed to spit my investment by three. One third went into the company's stock, the second third in technology stocks like Google, Amazon, and Facebook. The last third in dividend-paying blue stocks. The investor reports were sent to me directly to me in the company email account. Since I was often at sea near tax time my wife and I had always filed separately with her taking the deductions for our kids.

If we got hit directly by the level three and growing hurricane no one would be able to return to the rigs until they all had passed through a one hundred percent inspection. I was a stickler for details like this because I would not put the men working with me lives at risk. A team would be sent down to inspect the gulf's bottom before reconnecting could be started.

No matter what, it looked like I was getting at least two months off. Most did not understand that the harder the ocean was rocked on the surface the harder the shoreline got hit with water flow. The backflow depending on how strong could cause ripples on the seabed surface in reverse that went on until they petered out in nothingness.

With this hurricane's slow movement, the longer it sat over our sites the more it would cost in reconstruction. So, I would be watching the weather over the next few days to give me an idea of how long I would be off.

I had been on the advisory team that had seen the birth of these new procedures after it had cost our parent company BP billions of dollars because they had refused to follow our suggestions before the last disaster. A few million dollars lost today saved us billions lost in litigations and governmental inspired bull shit later.

Give anyone in the government the chance to rake your money these days was an open invitation to be screwed over without even being kissed. BP had learned the hard way the real costs when the democratically elected governments had treated those charged with environmental pollution like they were their pimp. A lot of questionable items got charged back against the corporation that could not be proven to be directly linked to the problems caused by BP. Many inside the industry believed the governments used the situation to their advantage to resolve things that they themselves had created.

Most in the oil industry had learned from that big screw up and now budgeted for at least one long term shut down somewhere. They had adopted a protect your own ass policy at any cost. In a lot of ways, BP was still recovering.

Shana and I had met our neighbors Jack and Jasmine Parsons shortly after we had purchased our current home. At that time, she had been three months pregnant with our first which was a boy. Hunter Allan Phillips came into the world weighing seven pounds. Sarah Louise came less than four years later.

The house had been too big for us, but we had grown into it. Both of our children were now almost out of their teens. Hunter had just turned twenty and Sarah was counting the days until she could get rid of her learners.

Jack and Jasmine who were just married when we met them had never been able to have children for reasons that had never been disclosed. Over the years they had become an adopted Aunt and Uncle to our children and our best friends. Jack was a bit older than us and Jasmine nine years younger.

Jasmine in my eyes was one of the most beautiful African American ladies I had ever met. If any woman could have convinced me to sway from my marriage vows, she was it. I could never see what she saw in Jack. Jack is just a good old boy who has no class, the morals of an idiot and a constant liar but apparently, he could sell like nobody I knew.

I was sitting in the Tampa airport waiting for the next flight to St. Louis reading the Wednesday local paper when a text message came through. It read; Dad, when you get a chance, give me a call. It was from my daughter Sarah. I wondered for a moment if she had changed much in the last fourteen months since I had been home.

For hardcore oil men like me, it was the family that always paid the ultimate price of not having me around that was why I had been seriously considering finding something else to do for the rest of my life.

I called her instantly.

"Hi dad, "She said. "Thanks for calling so promptly."

"What's up Buttercup," I replied. Buttercup was my nickname for her because when she was young, she and I would spend many an afternoon picking enough of them to fill a small glass for her mother. That meant a lot to the two of us, but her mother would thank her and forget about it. I kept them in water and took out the dead ones daily until it was time to do it again.

"I don't know where to start Dad," Sarah said honestly.

"How about the bare facts," I said figuring it was not serious"

"Okay here goes," She said. "Hunter's in the hospital being operated on. They are repairing his shoulder from a bullet that went right through it. Uncle Jack is in jail charged with his attempted murder. Aunt Jasmine is finally with child and is three months along."

"Are you kidding me," I said. "This sounds unbelievable."

"Well you said you wanted the bare facts," Sarah said. "So that's what I gave you. The rest I feel needs to be explained to you before you talk to mom."

"Why do you feel that way buttercup," I asked seriously?

"The whole situation is complicated and it's not as straightforward as it seems," Sarah said without going into detail. "You always taught us that there are always two sides to the story and that you had to figure out what the facts truly were before you could decide on what to believe."

Sarah had said it well. Over the years I had said many times I have heard your side of the story from your point of the view now I had to find out what the facts are before any decisions could be made.

"Mom will tell you what she wants you to hear and possibly believe," Sarah said. "In order to do that she will skip over certain facts she doesn't want you to ever find out about. The situation going on with my brother and my aunt and uncle also involves her."

"Ok Buttercup I'm about to catch a plane to St. Louis and will be catching the first fight in the morning back to Cape," I said. "Skip school tomorrow and I will catch a taxi home when I arrive. By that time your mother will have gone to work."

"You're coming home that's great. Mom's in New York," Sarah said. "Macy's wanted all their store Managers in this district at head office for a big meeting on how to increase their sales and reduce their overall inventory levels in an attempt to reduce their operation costs. This region is still one of the few regions still making a good profit. Upper management is trying to figure out what they are doing differently that makes this district successful."

"Has she been informed," I asked?

"No, I'm still at the hospital waiting to hear from the Doctor," Sarah explained. "I'm outside calling you because I thought you should be the first to know. I really don't want to involve her until after we had talked."

"Let someone know in billing that I will be in with our medical cards first thing in the morning," I said. "Thanks, buttercup for texting me. Love you see you in the morning."

After saying goodbyes, I got ready to go through the security and head for the waiting area. It gave me time to look at the four of us and our relationship with each other over the years.

For all of our married life, I had worked the rigs starting from a grunt and working my way up. Out of boredom while at sea I had gotten serious and worked at getting all the degrees I could in my chosen field. That had started the journey to where I was today.

I thought back to the day I had met Shana she had pulled into Walmart to pick up a few things and had been going a bit too fast. She didn't see the black ice and was unable to slow down and had bumped the piece of junk I was driving at the time.

She got out of her vehicle all flustered and bent out of shape as she was driving her father's car. There was no real damage to her bumper and as for my small truck, one more scratch or two was not going to make a difference.

After parking what we were driving we went into the subway restaurant inside of wally world and she bought me a six-inch sub and a coffee for being a good sport about it. Shana, when she took off her winter coat, got my attention. She was a tight package with all the curves where most men wanted them. She was one of the few females I could easily spend hours with not only was she good looking, but her personality shone out bright.

It was her, I got to admit that got me to get serious about life. Until then I was just a good old boy enjoying life and taking advantage of whatever opportunities with the females that came along. I loved to party, be with the crowd and would go back to the rigs flat broke ready to sober up and cleanout.

Shana the first time I saw her I knew she wanted to do something with her life. That first weekend we spent with each gave me a purpose and a direction. Within that month I went back to education to improve myself. The move we got involved with each other the more determined I became.

I guess she got the same impression of me for her parents had often said I had made her become a better person. Eight months later we were engaged. Six months after we were married. I started working offshore on the big rigs shortly afterward because the superiors had seen a big change in everything I did. I have to thank Shana for that. I started making what was considered big money back then. Little did I know back then how addictive that paycheck would become.

Looking back at that time I guess we had each forced each other to grow up and become adults. So far in our walk of life, I had no regret.

Shana had gotten a business degree from a business college and had started out her career as a department manager in the female clothing section of Macy's with a base wage and commissions.

Retail merchandising to her was art that few really knew and understood. She had excelled at it and every couple of years found her working in a new department. One she had proven herself in each section she was offered a junior management position.

When the smallest store location store manager spot became available, she was asked to fill in until someone suitable was found. Little did anyone know that with the training and teaching she gave the staff would cause the store sales and reputation to grow. The area supervisor came in one day and said the store manager position, it's yours.

Three years ago, she had finally been given the Store Managers position in their Store in Cape. This was the third time she had been moved since becoming a store manager. It was by far the largest. It was nice because she now worked within ten miles of home. While putting her stamp on it, its sale began to take off making it one of the fastest-growing stores sales-wise in the division.

Jack Parsons was an independent wholesaler who made his living driving his route selling the tools his suppliers provided him. His customers were the average joe who fixed and repaired cars for a living. I wasn't sure how much he made but by the way, he spent it, I knew he mustn't be suffering. I just did not understand why our area was not part of the area he covered as part of his territory.

Jack knew everybody and had a knack for getting things when others couldn't and always came home with unexpected expensive gifts for his loving wife. He was a puzzle to me because he came across as simple and carefree.

The other thing I found hard was that he always paid everything with cash. He did not like using credit cards or debit cards for anything. The only bank account they had was in his better half's name.

Jasmine had been with the southeastern Missourian newspaper for years and was not only a staff reporter but had worked her way up to becoming an Assistant Editor. She was a very respected person in the community and served on several boards. Her giving and loving nature had made her a star in our community.

If you looked at us together you would wonder how we could be friends. Jasmine and Jack were African American. Shana and I are English American six generations. When the kids were small whenever we needed downtime for us to be us Jasmine would spoil our kids rotten.

When they were out about with them if people asked them Jack would always say we adopted them. He got a kick out of it because a lot of people bought his bullshit. For him, it was even a bigger kick when they started calling him Uncle Jack. Our kids growing up were spoilt rotten by them. I felt my family had been blessed by having them in our lives.

So, for most of my flight, I was trying to figure out what was going on and what was this all about. All four of us had a busy life so to me nothing I had heard made sense. Yet Sarah had made it clear the relationship between us all was the thing that tied it all together.

I had a three-hour wait in St Louis until I could catch the connecter flight home. If you know the airport in St Louis, you know how dumb a setup it is. A few years back they had closed the indoor smoking area's down just to piss off the smokers. The restaurants open at that time of day were the pits.

If you wanted a smoke, you had to go out of the airport and come back in going through the security again. Yet there were those sitting vaping right out in front of you. Now they were saying it was not the actual tar and nicotine that caused cancer but the act of the smoke lingering in the area that caused the problem.

The one thing they never discussed on disclosed was the fact that it was all in our genetics.' It was our dna that caused the problem more than what we were actually doing.

I knew with the problems some were having because of buying an illegal products that contained oils that did damage to the lungs it would not be long until the heath community would be pushing that those who cooked using pure or synthetic oil start using nose and mouth covering masks while cooking because of the danger of breathing oil into their lungs. It seemed that it only took a few idiots for the mass media to make it seem extreme.

I was standing outside the airport having finally given in to one of the pleasures I had in life. Yeah, I was smoking a Marlboro full flavor cigarette. One of the rewards of working on offshore deep level rigs was that the cartons they provided the small retail store did not have all the taxes attached to them. The average price for a carton of my favorite smoke was less than twenty bucks. On this last trip home, I had brought six cartons with me.

One of the rules I had installed was no alcoholic beverages on the rigs. The men were against it, but their wives sent thank you letters because of the money that was saved. It had also made it a lot easier to achieve the goals I had set. To the men's wives, I walked on water. To the men beneath me, I was what came out of a horse's ass.

One of the joys of being an American is that we had to pay major hidden taxes so our political representatives could blow millions over miss truths and bullshit without any guilt or responsibility. If they overspent, they could always find a new tax to bring in that within two months would be hidden from the general public's mind. The tax laws in our country were so thick that it would be easier to understand a woman before you would comprehend it. I had always been a miserable failure at both.