The Hollow Men - Episode 20
Uncle Bill is nervous, warns Rick and Drew to keep an eye on things, Rick gets t-boned on the wide streets of Odessa, Matt Johnson is nervous too, and Drew notices a change in Rick.
Last week in Episode 19 Drew drives through his regretful past, the present slaps him hard in the face and a skeleton dog assigns him a mission.
The Hollow Men is the second collection of not quite true tales of Texas. If you have recently subscribed and 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 the story line.
A different field
The summer of 1982 was a confusing one. The rig count was in a free fall. In nine months the rig count had dropped nearly 2000. That didn't seem good at all. On the other hand, the price of oil was holding comfortably around $35.00 a barrel. Our backlog of four assembly lines was holding steady at 150 days.
In late May we received the second separator PO from New Mexico Chemicals. This one was for $204,000. I had an invoice for $102,000 in the mail by the first of June.
Middle of the next week we shipped our last five cones to New Mexico Chemicals and I sent to Peter an invoice for the remaining $187,500. At the end of June we received the third PO for Peter's separators, this one for $160,000. True to form I prepared an invoice for $80,000 and sent it to Peter by the 9th of July. My invoice and Peter's checks must have waved at each other while in the postal stream as one went to New Mexico and the others went to Odessa. On July 19th two checks from New Mexico Chemicals arrived in the mail, one for $187,500 and the other for $102,000. It seemed as if people were trying to spend everything they could in the summer of 1982.
We were still having our monthly lunch with Uncle Bill and our weekly lunches with Matt, but the tone of the conversations was changing.
“Things are getting stretched thin. Money, people, banks, they are all getting stretched. So far, nothing has reached a breaking point, but I wonder how much longer this can go on.”
“Not sure what you mean, Uncle Bill. Can you elaborate?”
“Yeah, Mr. Remington. Business is going good, man, it is booming. We have to make a serious effort to not make money.”
“I know, money is flowing good, but that is part of the problem, the money is flowing too fast. People are buying things like there won't be tomorrow, and they may be right. Remember when you two first told me about the VP Tanks idea? Back then I couldn't turn down an energy loan. I've had to turn down three in the last two months. One of them was just crazy, and it was good to turn that one down. But two of them, two of them, they made sense, they had a good business plan, good people are involved. Problem is the bank is over extended. When we loan money, we sometimes have somebody backing us, what we call a transactional lender, and it is challenging to find good transactional lenders right now.”
That caught Rick and I off guard. I don't know what Rick was thinking but I knew I was going to start paying a lot closer attention to our numbers and measures. Our backlog had been shrinking, but we weren't concerned about it, in fact, we just figured this was a little valley and that things would pick back up again. Now if my Uncle Bill was getting nervous, then I needed to pay more attention. If things were truly starting a downward trend I wanted to keep as much of what we had earned as possible. We ran a tight ship. We moved most of the money to our personal accounts as soon as the checks cleared, but I didn’t want to get caught waiting on payments from customers for work already done if things got really bad.
On July 21st we shipped the first eight separators to New Mexico and I followed up quickly with the second 50% invoice of $70,000. The second week of August we received a check from New Mexico Chemicals for $80,000 to cover our 50% invoice on the third PO for ten more separators. Two weeks later we shipped the second batch of eight separators to New Mexico Chemicals, but we didn't invoice them, as the second PO was for twelve total separators. My plan was to send the second invoice in September when we shipped the remaining four separators to close out the PO.
On September 1st we deposited a check for $70,000 and this closed out the PO for the first eight separators. In the back of my mind I was wondering about the next PO from New Mexico Chemicals. So far we had received three PO's, for eight, twelve and ten separators respectively. I expected one last PO for ten separators and had been expecting it since early August. I wanted to know where my final PO was so I called Peter up.
He seemed glad to talk to me but hesitant. He was happy with the sixteen separators he had received so far but when it came to talking about the future he got downright vague. Finally I had enough of the hesitation.
“Peter, I was expecting the final PO for the last ten separators. When will you send it out?”
“Well, Drew, you see... well, there might be a delay to that final PO. Things are starting to slow down out here in New Mexico. Surprised you haven't noticed the same thing in Texas. The rig count has been dropping and people are talking..”
“Are you going to order the last ten separators or not?”
“Drew, well, I can't, not right now.”
“Okay, we're not going to work on the last ten until I get a PO and your 50% check clears. I can't risk building something you can't pay for.”
I was quiet for a moment and then asked the question I didn't want to ask.
“You're not going to burn me on the twelve separators or the ten after that, are you? I've got a lot of money tied up in those separators. I'm expecting you to receive and pay for them.”
“Drew, don't worry about that, I've got all that covered, we're just running a little short on the last ten. Don't worry about that. I've paid you for the first eight separators and I'll pay you for the eight you just shipped and the fourteen you're working on.”
“You better.”
I wasn't sure what I would do if he didn't, but I sure as hell wanted him to be a little nervous. If I had to find new buyers for the remaining fourteen separators I wouldn't make as much profit as I would with Peter but I would find someway to make a profit.
Peter swore up and down that he would pay in full for the 22 separators (the eight we had just shipped and the fourteen more we would ship over the next two months) and that he would be calling me soon to tell me that the final PO was released.
God damn, it was looking like Uncle Bill as right, money, people and things were getting stretched tight. Things were changing, that's for sure. This was the first time in a long time I had been nervous at work.
The Crack-up
I usually arrived at the office about 6:45 AM. My first responsibility was to start the coffee. Rick without a cup of coffee was not his usual self, but a strange, cantankerous, unpleasant version of himself, a version of Rick I preferred to avoid. Rick usually arrived right at 7:00 AM, maybe a minute or two earlier, and would gratefully accept that first cup of office morning coffee.
Things went a little different on Thursday, September 2, 1982. Rick was late, real late. I was busy working on some new drawings and didn't notice he wasn't in the office until I came up for air at 7:40. I didn't think of it much at first. Sometimes Rick dropped by a customer or one of our contractors to talk about business before he came into the office. Most times I knew in advance when he was doing that, either because we talked about it the day before or he would call into the office a few minutes after 7:00 to say he was stopping by to see someone. That usually also meant he would be picking up some donuts from Southern Maid. We both loved the orange and maple glazed donuts from there. This time there had been no conversation the night before and no phone call this morning. Still, it was only 7:40 and he might have forgotten to mention that he would be making a stop before coming into the office.
I went back to work and quickly zoned in on the drawings. Once I'm drawing, figuring out how the pieces fit, time can pass quickly. I worked until the phone rang and even then I didn't really hear the phone until the third or fourth ring. It was 9:15 am.
I picked up the phone and said “VP Tanks, this is Drew Remington speaking. How may I help you?”
“Drew, this is Mrs. Anders.”
Her voice seemed a little upset, almost broken.
“Yes, ma'am.” I paused, I wasn't sure what was going on.
“Rick's been in an accident.”
I sure as hell didn't know what was going on.
“An accident, ma'am? What do you mean? Is he all right?”
“He was driving to work and from what the police officer told us he was turning onto Grandview when he was broadsided by a pickup truck.”
She broke down. I heard voices in the background and then I heard Mr. Anders' voice.
“Drew?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Rick's car is probably repairable, whether or not it makes sense to fix it I don't know. Rick was knocked out by the impact, his head slammed against the steering wheel and windshield. He's all right now. The ambulance took him to the hospital They say he definitely has a concussion, a broken rib and a separated shoulder. He woke up in the emergency room. He struggled with the nurse, saying he had to get to work but they calmed him down. He didn't know where he was and still doesn't remember the accident.”
“Are you at the hospital now?”
“Yes, they're keeping an eye on him for a little awhile but the doctor says he will be released this afternoon. Just don't expect him to come into work today.”
I almost had to laugh. I could see Rick coming in all bandaged up, his head wrapped, shoulder in a sling, walking in the door of VP Tanks acting like nothing had happened.
“Don't worry about. Tell him to get rested and well. I can handle this place well enough on my own. Mary Ann will be here in the afternoon and if Rick needs to take tomorrow and Saturday off as well, that's no problem. We can handle things all right here.”
“Good, I was confident you could, but it is good to hear it. Not sure if we can convince Rick to stay away tomorrow, but we'll see.”
“Hey, can I drop by this evening, see how's he doing? He sat me through a concussion of my own, back in '75, when Tommy was killed.”
“I had forgotten about that. Yes, that would be good, why don't you come over for dinner tonight?”
“Yes, sir, I will.”
“Come by our house at around 6:30, dinner will be waiting for you.”
“Yes, sir.”
With that we hung up. Well, that's a hell of a way to start the day. Before I got back to work I made another phone call to my Mom. I told her Rick had been in an accident, that all was okay but that I would be seeing him that evening and have dinner with Rick and his parents. She insisted I pass on her and Dad's well-wishes to Rick and his family. I told her I would.
After telling her goodbye I looked around the office and walked over to Rick's desk to see if there was anything obvious I needed to follow-up on. I found a few notes, made a few phone calls and the morning passed quickly.
It was nearly noon and it was Thursday which meant lunch with Matt Johnson at Manuel's. I left Mary Ann a note explaining Rick was out for the day and that I would be back around 1:00.
At Manuel's I found Matt sitting at our booth. Three tea glasses were on the table.
“Afternoon, Matt, how are you?”
He stood up, shook my hand, smiled broadly, looked beyond me and said “Good, Drew, very good. Where's Rick?”
I explained what had happened that morning. I told Matt that Rick was all right and I would see him that evening Matt seemed satisfied. We ordered our lunch.
It had been quite a while since Matt and I had lunch without Rick being there. We had both gotten used to him keeping the conversation going. The two of us stumbled our way around until Matt found a topic for us to focus on.
“I was thinking about Rick's accident and it makes me wonder if you two have thought about insurance?”
“Not sure what you mean, Matt. We have health insurance, set that up awhile back, Rick, Mary Ann and I are all covered. Remember, you referred Houston Copeland to us.”
“Yes, yes, that's right. No, I wasn't talking about health insurance. I was thinking about accidental and life insurance. The two of you should make sure that if something happens to one or both of you that not everything is lost. As healthy and young as you are, life insurance would be very inexpensive and you could lock in rates for years to come. Talk to Houston about life and accident insurance, maybe even consider increase your health insurance coverage. Again, you’re both young so the cost shouldn’t be much. You can treat it as business expenses, since you would be doing this for the sake of the business.”
I don't remember much else specific about our conversation but that afternoon I called Houston and asked him if he could come talk to us about life insurance the next week.
The afternoon was quiet but Mary Ann and I stayed busy. I told her about Rick's accident. She insisted on dropping by to see how Rick was doing. I made a few more phone calls. Around 3:00 pm Mrs. Anders called to let us know that Rick had been released and all three of them were at home.
Mary Ann left the office about 5:30 and said she would drop by the Anders home on the way home. I told her to let them know I would be there at 6:30. At 6:20 PM I turned out the lights, locked the doors of VP Tanks and drove over to the Anders.
Mary Ann had left by the time I arrived at the Anders’ house. Mr. Anders let me in. Mrs. Anders walked out of the kitchen with a smile and wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.
“Hope you like Hungarian goulash, Drew. Didn't take the time to pick up anything at the store, after all, we were bringing Rick home. I've fixed a salad and baked a small spice cake for dessert.”
“Sounds wonderful, ma'am. Thanks for having me over.”
Rick was in the living room, watching TV and drinking ice tea. His head was bandaged, his left arm was in a sling. He stood up when he saw me, a bit too quick it seemed, as he wavered for a moment. The three of us rushed over to him.
“I'm fine, guess I still don't have my land legs back yet. Stood up and the world started moving underneath me.”
Mrs. Anders had a worried look on her face but I had to laugh a bit.
“What's so funny?”
“Sure that's ice tea you're drinking?”
I felt the pop of a kitchen towel on the back of my jeans and turned to see Mrs. Anders giving me a harsh look. She wasn't much of an actress, her smile broke through quickly.
“Drew, I can't believe you would say that about Rick.”
“You know me, ma'am, always trying to find the humor in the situation.”
“That sounds more like Mark than you.”
“Touche, Mr. Anders, touche.”
Rick walked over to me, a little slowly and shook my hand.
“How was the day?”
“Good enough. Me and Mary Ann took care of things. I followed up on a few phone calls and finished up the drawings for Northern Natural Gas. The afternoon was pretty quiet.”
I passed on the well-wishes from Matt and my parents.
“Give me about ten minutes boys and we will be ready to eat. I figure we can sit at the kitchen table if that's all right with you.”
“Right as a soft spring rain on the high plains, ma'am.”
Mrs. Anders smiled and walked into the kitchen to finish the dinner preparations.
Rick walked back to the sofa, sat down and winced slightly as he did so.
“What hurts?”
“Head, when I stand up or sit down.”
“Must be that radical change in elevation.”
“Yeah, that's it. That 2-3 feet sends everything off a kilter.”
“What else hurts?”
“Shoulder doesn't feel all that good. It is stiffening up some. I've gotten used to my ribs. I just avoid taking any deep breaths and I'm okay.”
“You're going to hurt more tomorrow. You're likely to stiffen up over night. Your muscles probably tightened up when the truck hit. After Tommy's accident it was several days before I wasn't sore.”
Rick smiled. “You were stove up for awhile.”
“I was.”
Luckily Mrs. Anders saved us from the rest of our scintillating conversation by telling us dinner was ready and waiting.
Around the dinner table the conversation was light. A little sports, a little TV, a little current events. The food was good. The spice cake, my favorite kind of cake, only kicked up the whole experience.
Eventually we all leaned back from the table, fully satisfied. Mrs. Anders started taking the dishes to the sink. I tried to help and was quickly shooed, along with Rick and Mr. Anders, to the living room.
Rick sat down on the couch, wincing again, took a deep breath, immediately regretted it and winced again.
“You say I'm going to hurt more tomorrow?”
“Good chance of it.”
“That blows.”
“How late do you have to stay up tonight?
“Until I get tired. The doctor suggested I stay up late. He pretty much put the kabosh on me driving or working tomorrow.”
Rick smiled as he said “Anyway, I can't drive the car until I get it repaired and Mom and Dad both refused to drive me to work tomorrow. So... unless you're willing...”
I looked at Mr. Anders and Mrs. Anders, standing in the kitchen doorway wiping her hands dry. The looks on their faces told me what my answer was.
“Nope, I don't think so, Rick. Nope, I think we can get by without you tomorrow. Maybe if you're feeling real good on Saturday I might take you in for the morning.”
The Anders seemed to like my answer.
We talked a bit more and around 8:30 I said my goodbyes. I told Rick I would call him on Friday to see how he was doing.
Rick was back at work on Monday. His car was in the body shop. He and his Dad decided it was worth fixing. That meant Rick and I were car pooling for the next couple of weeks and that I was out of the office more than usual since I was the only one with transportation. Rick wasn't interested in driving my truck and I wasn't interested in him driving it.
I did notice a change in Rick after the crack-up. Every once in awhile he would just seem to drift off. That wasn't like Rick, that was like me. He also seemed to be a bit edgier that he had been. Rick normally was calm, logical and rational but I was noticing something new. Over the next couple of months he blew up more than once, just let something push him off the edge. One time he made Mary Ann cry. That wasn't like Rick and he apologized to her.
Yeah, something was different with Rick. I planned to keep a closer eye on him.
Author’s note
The crack-up, the title of the last chapter in this episode, alludes to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s book “The Crack-up”, but I will let Drew explain more of that in a future episode.
Next week in Episode 21, Drew learns the fate of Skeleton Dog, meets Skeleton Man, Drew’s mom wakes up screaming, the oil/gas industry takes a hard downward turn, and Elizabeth delivers the twins.