The Hollow Men - Episode 11
VP Tanks continues to do well, Uncle Bill has some financial suggestions for Rick and Drew, Drew becomes a landlord, makes some resolutions, and wonders about what might have been with Andrea.
Last week in Episode 10 of The Hollow Men, J.T. and Sue get married, VP Tanks gets busy and the HR department of VP Tanks makes some positive changes for their employees.
If you like to read things from the very beginning feel free to start with The Cold Days of Summer, the first collection of not quite true tales of Texas. Each episode of The Cold Days of Summer and The Hollow Men contains a link to the previous and next episode so you can easily move through all of the episodes.
Hand over fist
The rest of 1979 was a crazy ride for VP Tanks. Our monthly measures give you an idea of what was going on.
The great oil crisis of 1979 had no negative impacts on us, in fact the impact was nothing but positive. There were no gas lines in Odessa, there were no shortages and the demand for more and more work was constant. It was a great time to be in the oil business.
Since June 1979 the rig count had exploded from just under 2000 to over 2500 and the price of oil had increased even more from $19.10 to $32.50. Our work buffer had increased from 45 days to 60 days by the end of 1979.
I took my first vacation the first full week of September and drove to Austin after work Tuesday. I arrived at Jack’s and Kate's apartment around 1:00 am. Kate answered the door, gave me a hug, pointed me to the couch and went back to her room. I could hear Jack snoring in his room. It didn't take long before I was snoring in synchrony.
The next morning came soon enough. Jack had to work that day so Kate and I drove about Austin looking at neighborhoods and houses for sale. We focused on neighborhoods west of UT and hopefully within either walking or biking distance of the UT campus. Because I'm a little cheap we wound up on the edges of Hyde Park, between Lamar and Guadalupe, north of 45th street. I could buy a house in this area for $80,000 to $100,000. The Austin real estate market was doing a fair bit better than Odessa. This weekend I was just looking. I just wanted to see how much sense it made to buy a house in Austin versus renting an apartment. From what I saw it looked just barely feasible.
Jack got off work around 6:00 and I took him and Kate out to dinner. Over dinner I proposed my idea to Jack.
“Since you plan on living here after you graduate and I don't know when VP Tanks will come to an end I need someone to watch any property I buy in Austin. My plan is to eventually go back to school but I don't when that will exactly be. From what I'm seeing the real estate market is heading up here in Austin so it seems like a decent time to buy, versus waiting until I'm ready to go. Thing is, I need to keep the place rented until I'm ready to move in, and if I rent I need someone I trust to keep an eye on the property.
“I'm thinking there's two ways to do this. First, you live in the house until I need it. Second, you act as the landlord. Either way, I want to make it worth your while. Do you have a preference?”
“How fast are you planning to buy something?”
“Within the next few months. I would like to close the deal by the end of the year.”
Jack thought about it for a few moments before he spoke again.
“Well, I can go either way. Let's make the decision on what to do based off the property you buy. You might end up buying a rent house that already has someone in it. In that case it would be easier for me to be the landlord versus trying to move in.”
“Point. I'm not ready to make an offer on anything today. I now have a feel for the area. I'll come back later this month and talk to some real estate folks and hopefully finalize something.”
Dinner went well, so did the rest of the evening. Friday I met with a real estate agent and narrowed my search. I told the agent what I was looking for: a small house, around 1000 to 1200 square feet, hopefully within either walking or biking distance of the UT campus. What I did learn from the agent was that the best opportunity for me was to buy a house that was already rented, that way I would have rental income already in place. All I would have to do then is as I got ready to go back to school was to cancel the rental agreement with 30-60 days notice and I would be ready to go. The agent seemed honest. I told her I had to think things over but I hoped to make some kind of offer by the end of September. It was near 6:00 pm before I got back to Jack's and Kate's apartment. Jack was worn out from the day and I was a bit tired myself so we decided to keep it quiet that Friday evening. Saturday morning I gave Jack an update on my plans.
“I'll probably buy something where the renter is already in place. In that case I want you to be my remote landlord. How does $100 a month sound to you?”
“Make it $200 a month or I'll have to kill you.” That’s an inside joke between Jack and me. In his earlier bullying days he often threatened to kill me, but it was just a bluff. How do I know? I’m still alive.
“Hmm, since I will be in Odessa and you will be here, you killing me seems a little remote, but I take your threat seriously. How does $150 a month sound to you?”
“I can live with that, which means so can you.”
We shook on the deal and Saturday morning I drove back to Odessa.
Over the next two weeks I talked with the real estate agent in Austin several times. Near the end of September she called and told me that she had found the perfect house for me. I took Friday off and drove to Austin, arriving mid-afternoon at her office. She took over the driving at that point and took me to a house in north Hyde Park. The renters were at work so we were able to go on in. It was damn near perfect. The house was on Rowena Street, near 50th street. Three bedrooms, two baths, a little over 1100 square feet, within three miles of the UT campus. Best part of all, the asking price was right at $80,000. The agent had done a good job and I told her so. That evening we wrote an offer for $79,500. We didn't hear anything that weekend and I drove back to Odessa Sunday morning. Tuesday morning I got a call from the real estate agent. My offer had been accepted and the wheels were in motion. The first week of November we closed and I became a real estate magnate on a very small scale. For the closing I drove back to Austin. I met my renters, a nice couple with one child. I told them what my plans were, to rent the house for at least a couple of years, but at some point I planned to move to Austin and complete my degree. I also gave them Jack's telephone number so they would have someone local to call if there were any problems with the house. Speaking of Jack, I finalized the landlord deal with him for $150 a month. And I got real drunk that Saturday evening. It just seemed right. I had tied myself down. Not to a woman, but to a house, a house in Austin. Hopefully I would not regret the decision.
Back in Odessa, VP Tanks was making money hand over first. Each month we bumped our take by a percentage point. By mid-November we were taking 20% off the top of everything and no one seemed to mind.
In December we paid off our business loan at National Bank of Odessa. Uncle Bill made a big deal of it, he bragged about it to my Dad, who bragged about it to my Mom.
From putting $5000 a quarter in 6 month CD's drawing 11% annual interest we had for the last three months of the year been putting in $5000 a month. And we were both making our monthly mortgage payments on our rental property.
It had been a great year. VP Tanks was more successful than we had ever dreamed it could be. Things were smooth, if I had to say so myself.
Then I got two surprises in November. Well, not really surprises, I knew they were coming, but I had managed to stay busy enough that I had conveniently forgotten about their inevitability. I received a package from Andrea. In it was a letter and two smaller envelopes. The letter asked how I had been and that she hoped to see me soon. One envelope contained her graduation announcement. She had stuck to her guns and was graduating in December, three and a half years after we had graduated from high school. The second envelope was an invitation to her and Michael's wedding on January 20, 1980.
Damn.
Resolution, celebration in the darkest night
January 1980 started just as December had ended. In other words, not bad at all.
It was the beginning of a new year and a new decade. It was time to make some resolutions. Normally, I'm not that type, I tend to believe that a resolution made is a resolution that will later be broken and it's just a lot easier to never go to the trouble in the first place. But this year I decided to make some resolutions.
Resolution 1: Take care of myself. No more than one planned drunk a month. I can't plan for the unplanned drunks, but I could least make a reduction in the planned drunks. I also decided to start running again, something I hadn't done seriously since I was in junior high. The only real problem was time. I was at work by 7:00 am in the morning and most days worked more or less straight through until 6:00. Then Rick and I would have a beer or two before going home. Running after drinking a beer didn't make sense at all. I settled on running in the mornings, which meant early morning. Monday, Wednesday and Friday I woke up around 4:45 for a run with Kaiser. I also planned to run at least one Sunday morning a month, just to shake the cobwebs out before Rick and I played golf in the afternoon.
Resolution 2: Get my money to work harder for me than I worked to get it. Rolling our spare cash into CDs and having some rental property was a good start but both Rick and I were interested in learning more from my Uncle Bill and Matt about the power of money.
Resolution 3: Buy what I needed, not what I wanted. I still had my old truck, the one that my Dad had bought when my Mom first started working out of the house. It needed some loving care, but I had learned enough about it and its quirks that I could keep it running nicely for a lot less than what a newer vehicle would cost. I did put in a nice cassette stereo system with an FM/AM radio. With Andrea's wedding coming up, I needed a good suit. Nothing too fancy, just a nice, classic, tailored suit. The Model Shop had a good selection and early in January I picked one out and had it tailored for me.
In mid-January Rick and I met with Uncle Bill and that's when we learned of his plan for us in 1980.
“It is time to start moving money away from the business into your hands. It is also time VP Tanks is incorporated. Incorporating will limit your liabilities, your personal liabilities. If something bad happens and someone tries to sue VP Tanks, that's all they will be able to do, sue VP Tanks, which will have close to nothing, just enough capital to cover the next two months of operations. Everything else will be in your personal accounts. I've been talking with Kevin Niland, he's a good CPA and he knows how to work with a small business and make sure the money you make you get to keep. Call him up, set up an appointment for the three of us and him and we'll get this going. I've seen people get something good going but not know how to protect it and before it was all said and done, all their hard work didn't add up to much. I don't want that happening to you. I want to make sure you keep what you earned.”
We had the meeting. Kevin laid out a plan that looked real good. Of course, part of that plan involved keeping Kevin on a retainer. Rick and I were both a little leery about that, it just seemed like someone else trying to cut in on our action. What we decided on was a six month contract to get the new organization and the books in shape, then we would reassess things in the summer. That seemed like a reasonable idea to all of us, even Kevin.
By the day of Andrea's wedding I was consistently running three days a week. Not fast, but a good steady pace for twenty to thirty minutes. I wasn't enjoying the running itself, just tolerating it, but I enjoyed how I felt after a run.
The day of Andrea's wedding was one of those beautiful West Texas winter days that make you glad to be alive. After weeks of cold Saturday dawned bright and clear. A little crisp and cool when I arrived at work that morning, by noon the temperature was already in the low 50's. The wedding wasn't until 6:00 pm at the Second Baptist Church on University. As we closed up shop Rick and I decided to squeeze in nine holes at Golden Acres. I was home by 3:00, plenty of time to clean up and put on my suit. I decided to skip dinner, thinking I could probably get some decent eats at the reception. At 5:30 I left the house and drove over to the church.
I'm going to guess there are no ugly brides. Sue was beautiful and so was Andrea. Baptist weddings are a whole lot shorter than Catholic weddings and by 6:40 the deal was done. The reception was held in a gigantic open meeting place, big enough to hold a basketball game in. First up was the reception line. I took my place in line and slowly walked towards Andrea and her family. I first met Michael's family then it was time to meet Andrea's family. Dale was first in line.
“Hello, Dale. Been awhile since I've seen you.”
“Drew, you should have married Andrea. I don't like this guy at all.”
Dale's father leaned over and whispered something to Dale.
“I can't help if I like Drew better.”
“Well, I like you too, Dale. Say hello to Daisy for me. I'm a little surprised she wasn't one of the flower girls.”
Dale liked that, so did Mr. Keller.
“Hello, Drew. Glad you could come. I do believe Daisy would have made a fine flower dog, but I couldn't convince Andrea or her mother that it was a good idea.”
His handshake was firm and he slapped me warmly on the back.
“Drew! I'm so glad you made it. I wasn't sure if you would be here.”
Mrs. Keller looked lovely, and the happy sadness on her face seemed to fit the situation perfectly.
Then Andrea saw me and I saw her. It seemed like everything went quiet for a minute, but I'm sure it didn't. She broke the perceived silence.
“Drew, thanks for coming today. I hoped you would.”
I put my hand out to shake hers and she just laughed, then put both arms around me and gave me a good hug. I hugged her back in return.
“Ahem.”
“Oh, Michael. This is Drew. I've told you about him.”
By this time the hug was over. I shook Michael's hand, I said a few nice words and then moved on.
The reception was a little disappointing. No open bar, no keg, just some tea, coffee and soft drinks. Maybe it was the lack of booze or something else, but a Baptist wedding didn't seem nearly as much fun as a Catholic wedding. After about twenty minutes more I decided I had seen all I needed to see and that it was time to leave.
In late January it gets dark early in the evening and even though it was not quiet 7:00 PM, it was dark as I drove off. On the way out of town I stopped by Jack Jordan's and picked up a brisket and sausage plate. I drove out to the office where I knew more than a case of beer and a change of clothes were waiting on me. After I shucked the suit the first three beers accompanied the brisket, sausage, potato salad, pinto beans and bread. Man, that was good. The remaining beers were just for me.
I always keep an extra coat in my truck in case I get stuck on the side of the road and the weather turns bad. With my coat on and three beers I took one of our lawn chairs outside and sat in the night. I turned off our sign and the outside lights, sat in the dark and drank. I thought back over the years, of growing up, of years ago when Rick, Jack and I drank a six pack of beer in a parking lot not much different than the one I was in that night. I thought of Andrea. I began to wonder if I had messed up, if I had missed out on something real good. I sometimes think it is a curse to have an imagination. Sometimes I get too wrapped up in the possible, the what hasn’t happened, that I ignore the reality of the present. So it was with Andrea.
So I screamed in the night. I screamed for what I lost. I screamed for what I never had.
The night wore on. It was a rustler's moon that night, the new moon had been only a few days before and there was enough moon light that night to see where you are going, but that's about all. A rustler's moon, enough light to rustle cattle, but not enough light to be seen doing it.
I didn't scream all of the night and after awhile the night accepted me. In the dim light of the rustler's moon I saw a jack rabbit bound into the edge of our parking lot. It sat on its haunches and watched me, its nose twitching as it tried to figure out what I was, why I was there and what I was doing. Then its ears tilted, it turned its head quickly to the right and the left and bounded off into the darkness. It must have heard something and a couple of minutes later I saw what it had heard. A coyote loped slowly onto the scene. It too seemed surprised by me, but it wasn't scared of me. It sat on its haunches about thirty feet away and looked me over. Like most coyotes, it was thin and looked worse for the wear. The coyote life is a hard life.
There was some leftover brisket and sausage from my meal back in the office. I'm sure the coyote would feast on it, but my challenge was how to get the remains without scaring the coyote off. The two of us stared at each other and I slowly rose to my feet. It watched me very carefully but I made no sudden moves, just slow ones and I walked over to our door. As I opened the door the coyote stared at me and slowly rose to its feet. I had to move slowly and quietly. Any sudden move or noise would send the coyote away. The remains of the brisket and sausage were still in the styrofoam container. I walked out the door with the container. The coyote hadn't left. It was still standing and watching me. I walked slowly about twenty feet away from our shop and closer to the coyote. I squatted down and placed the open container on the ground. The coyote was still watching me but was sniffing the air, he could smell the meat. I wondered what he made of the smell of the barbecue sauce. I was pretty sure he wouldn't come to the meat if I was still squatting by it so I slowly stood up and walked backwards to my lawn chair. I sat down, opened up a fresh beer, took a sip, leaned back and waited to see what would happen.
The coyote's eyes darted between me and the meat. His nose twitched to the smells. He was weighing the situation, whether to check out the container, whether he could trust me. Something convinced him I was safe. He walked cautiously to the container. He leaned his head down and sniffed again. Satisfied that the meat was to his liking he took one more look at me and commenced to eat. He would take a bite of meat and while chewing would watch me. It didn't take long before he had eaten every bite of the sausage and brisket. With that finished, he sat down on his rear haunches and looked at me, sniffed the container, then proceeded to lick the remaining barbecue sauce while I drank my beer. He cleaned the container good, I doubt if there was a drop of barbecue sauce left. Completely finished with his meal, he stood up, stretched, looked up at the moon and yipped. In the distance I could hear his brothers answering his call. He looked at me one more time, I could have sworn he nodded his head at me, and then he trotted off into the night, leaving me alone with an empty styrofoam container and the beer.
The more I drank the more things all got slung together in my head but in the end all there was only darkness, desolation and despair, and, oh yeah, lots of alcohol.
I woke up in my lawn chair, it was a shivering cold Sunday morning, the sun just starting to peak above the eastern horizon, way too many empty cans of beer at my feet. I picked up the mess, walked inside and washed up, grabbed my suit, locked the doors and drove home.
Next week in Episode 12 Elizabeth is a senior in high school and goes out on a date, Rick and Drew set up a scholarship fund in order to reduce their taxes, and VP Tanks employment base grows by 50%.