The Hollow Men - Episode 25
A long episode this week that covers the final days of VP Tanks, Matt Johnson's insight on what is happening, and the first days of an unemployed Drew.
Last week in Episode 24 Drew visits Rick and wonders why he is now the sane one. He was not the only one who wonders this.
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.
The broken men
February through April the rig count kept dropping. All of our December and January quotes expired and no new work was coming in. All I had to do was manage the outstanding work. I kept in close touch with SouthWestern Tanks and the rest of our subcontractors in February and March. They all knew I was closing up shop and that Rick was no longer involved. Everyone gave their condolences and Matt, Jim, Ned and Carey all visited Rick at the hospital.
Rick was almost the same. He still didn't talk, but he seemed to acknowledge your presence when you visited.
Most of my time was straightforward – I focused on shutting down VP Tanks. Seemed like there was a hundred loose ends to take care of, each one required my attention since I was the sane one. Mary Ann was a big help during all of this time. She kept up on top of our accounts receivable and payable so I could focus on managing the last of our jobs and working with all of our subcontractors. I was meeting with our accountant Kevin every other week and with Uncle Bill just as frequently.
I had begged my way out of the first two Thursday lunches in January 1983 with Matt, but he insisted on me having lunch with him on the third Thursday of January. I wasn't trying to avoid him, I just didn't see a point in talking with him. I was getting out of the business and to a certain degree didn't feel I needed his help anymore.
Per our usual, we met at Manuel's at 12:00 noon on Thursday, January 20, 1983. I arrived a little before he did and was standing in the lobby when he arrived.
“Hello, Drew. Missed you the last two weeks.”
“Sorry, Matt. Just been real busy.”
“I understand. How's the shutdown?”
I nodded that it was going okay. We walked to our booth, sat down, nodded our heads to Arturo who walked away, secure that he knew our order: Matt: a #1 combination and iced tea, me: a #3 combination and iced tea.
“Had a chance to talk with your uncle last week. Good man. He said you're staying on top of things but he wonders how you're dealing with all of it.”
I looked up at Matt and thought for a moment.
“All right, I think. On one hand, I'm sort of glad it is coming to an end and I'm looking forward to the next thing: going back to school. I just wish Rick was still a part of it.”
Matt nodded his head in sympathy.
“Has your uncle ever told you about the Suitcase Oilmen and the Tomorrow Men?”
I nodded my head yes.
“I think we've clearly crested the boom but haven’t reached the bottom yet. I'm not so sure of it that I would make a big bet, but I would make a small one, if I was a betting man.” Matt had a twinkle in his eye when he said that and it was impossible to not smile at his remark. Matt was not, would never be a betting man.
“I think things will head further downhill. Problem is the industry out here has leveraged itself badly. A lot of people borrowed money last year based on the assumption that the price of oil would be a lot higher this year than it is. Payments on their loans are due every month and I don't think many of them will be able to make payment on the interest due, much less the principle. This could he a hard bust.
“Oh, SouthWestern Tanks will survive. It will be tough, but we will survive. We've cash reserves that should be good enough to ride out the hard times.” He stopped talking for a moment, took a bite of his food and washed it down with iced tea.
“Thing is, some people will be broken, no doubt of that. Some have already broken, maybe because they can see the decline coming. I don't know. Maybe that is what happened to Rick, he could see the end and just wasn't ready to deal with it, the end of VP Tanks. Maybe he didn't have something else lined up. Most folks need a structure in their life, they need to have the vague illusion of what is coming next. I've always thought Rick was one of those types. Maybe when he saw where the trend lines were headed, well, it was too much for him and he broke.”
He paused for a moment, then asked me “What do you think, Drew?”
“I don't, much. I don't know what happened to Rick. I really don't. I don't spend much time thinking about it. I don't like to. Right now I'm just trying to stay focused, stay on top of things for the next few months until everything is taken care of. Maybe I'll think about it all then, but not right now.”
“Hmm, you just keep going. You didn't break. Funny thing is, if I had to choose, I would have picked you to break, not Rick.”
I must have gave him some kind of smart ass look because Matt laughed out aloud.
“I'm not saying you are fragile, no, that's one thing you're not. And maybe Rick was too rigid, and when things started to change it just broke him. I don't know. You, you just seem to bend, but I don't see you breaking.”
I nodded my head. I really didn't have much to say about it all. Like I had told him I had to stay focused, at least for right now. I wasn't sure what would happen once it was dealt with. I didn't think I would break, I wouldn't give anyone that kind of satisfaction.
At the end of January I got a call at work from Jack Blessing.
“What's up, Drew?”
“Jack, surprised to hear from you? Why are you calling?”
“Two reasons. First one is that your renter called me today. They gave me thirty days notice over the phone. They put the formal letter in the mail today but wanted me, and you, to know as soon as possible.”
“Damn, well, damn. I hadn't planned on that.” I was quiet for a moment, marveling at the coincidence and the timing. I was planning on giving them notice in the spring, looks like they beat me to it. “Wait a minute, you said two things. What's the second?
“Were you planning on keeping what's up with Rick and VP Tanks a secret?”
Jack's voice had an edge to it with that sentence and there was a long pause before I said anything.
“No, I wasn't keeping it a secret. To be honest I just didn't know how to say it. Closing VP Tanks is one thing, we both knew it would come to an end at some point. What caught me off guard was Rick.”
“So, what happened?”
I told the story again, there wasn't much new detail to add. I left out the voices, but explained how I found Rick huddled in a corner of our office.
“Shit, just like that?”
“Pretty much. He seemed stressed over the last few months as some of our customers started canceling orders. I didn't pay a lot of attention. We were both busy, each of us focused on our work. Looking back I can see some cracks over the last few months, but, what is it they say, something about hindsight being 20/20?”
“More like 20/15. After it is over it is easy to see how all the pieces fall in place. There's no point trying to figure it out. What's all this mean to you?”
I wasn't sure what he exactly meant so I decided to talk about the big picture.
“Well, with the renters giving notice, that's actually not too bad. Right now I think I'll have the doors shut at VP Tanks sometime in March, maybe early April. Starting in April I will have a lot of time on my hands. I'm planning to go to UT in the fall and I need to get the house ready. Maybe I'll spend about a week a month in Austin working on the house. As for money, that's not a problem. We never spent much, and we made a lot of profit over the years, particularly the last two years. I've got the house in Austin, plus the house you and I are in together on. Rick has two houses, one in Odessa and another he bought with his brother in Corpus. We both have quite a bit in savings. We both have insurance so Rick's medical costs won't be much of an impact on the Anders. Over the next month and a half I'm going to make sure all of the loose ends are tied up and that Rick and the Anders have all of the money that Rick earned.”
“Damn, I wasn't expecting that much from you. Anything I can do to help?”
“Naah, I think we're okay. Main thing is to keep up with the renters. What did they give as their move out date?”
“March 7. That falls on a Monday, gives them the weekend to move out. They've bought a house in south Austin.”
“All right, I'll plan to be in Austin the weekend they move out, just to formally close things out. I'll probably stay through Monday and do a final walk through with them then.”
“I wouldn't worry about it too much. They've been good tenants. Doubt if you'll see much wear and tear.”
“Probably not. Jack, thanks for calling. I should have let you know. How the hell did you hear about it?”
“Once Mike Garrett knew, well, you should have known I would hear about it soon enough.”
That was true, Mike didn't know how to keep a secret and I did know that. It was easier that way, having someone else do the talking for me.
In February work was a strange mix of things, I had a lot of paperwork and a lot of follow-ups, with our subs, with our customers, but since we were no longer actively looking for new jobs the afternoons tended to slow down and more often than not around 3:00 I was running out of stuff to do. Since I had to keep Mary Ann busy in the afternoon I was pushing a lot of work I could have done off to her. About two afternoons a week I left the closing of the office to Mary Ann so I could follow-up on jobs.
The meetings with Kevin and Uncle Bill went routinely. The handful of jobs we had left were going well. A few customers called looking for us to bid on jobs but I told them no and referred them to other tank vendors in town. I made a few friends that way, us going out of business was helping others who were feeling the pain of the downturn. Once again we were riding the crest of the wave, and it looked like we would be able to ride this one all the way in before we had to bail into the surf. Surf? I'm going to have to look into that once this was done and through. I hadn't done much but work and drink since high school and I was looking forward to doing something else for a change.
I took the first Friday of March off and drove to Austin. I arrived at Jack's house before he was off work, but had a key so I let myself in. He had done quite a bit of repair work throughout the house, put in a new fence and had the yards looking healthy. Saturday Jack and I drove over to the rent house. The renters were in full moving mode but took some time to walk through the house with us. Jack was right, they were good tenants. Since I had my truck I offered to help them move their belongings to their new home. Jack had to work that afternoon but I kept busy loading and moving. It was a good way to spend the day. There's something about physical labor that always makes me feel good. Maybe it's an honest kind of tired, I'm not sure, but by 6:00 pm I was tired and sweaty.
That evening I took Jack and Mark out to dinner at Matt's El Rancho and we had a good time. Mark was working as an accountant in Austin and was doing okay though he didn't like the hours or the travel all that much. He was on the road at least two weeks out of four. Jack was an assistant manager at an HEB in Austin, had fully completed his management training, and expected to have a store of his own in the next year or two. After a good meal and a few beers the three of us headed back to Jack's where we managed to stay up too late and drink too much. Neither Mark or I cared much, but Jack was in a sour mood the next morning when he had to get up and go to work. I heard him stumbling and grumbling around and decided to get up and fix him some coffee. No one likes to have a hangover alone.
Nursing his coffee he mumbled “This is one of the bad things about being an assistant manager, you have to work when the manager doesn't want to. In my case, for this asshole, that means every damn Sunday.
“I won't do that when I'm manager. I'll share the shitty times with my assistant managers. You got to share the burden, you know?”
I did, I knew what he meant and admired Jack for being the kind of person he had turned into. Not that my death threats were over, probably far from it, but when you needed someone to count on you could do a hell of a lot worse than Jack Blessing.
Monday morning I went back over to the rent house and performed a final walk through with my tenants. I didn't see anything wrong and told them so. In fact, I wrote them a check for their entire security deposit right then and there. We shook hands, exchanged phone numbers and said goodbye. The house was empty, the house was mine. I walked through it, thinking about what I was going to do in each room, then walked around the yard. Once I was done, I locked the doors and drove over to the University of Texas to meet with a counselor regarding my attending school there in the fall. The meeting went well, my transcript seemed to pass the muster. The counselor said I was informally accepted into the University and suggested I attend student orientation in July. About 2:00 pm our meeting was over and I started my drive back to Odessa.
By March 10th our work buffer dropped down to fifteen days, before the end of the month we would have no jobs in progress, everything would have been completed and shipped. All that would be left was to make sure all of the bills were paid up and that the final checks were on the way to us. I gave notice to the owner of our shop and yard. My last day in the office would officially be April 30th, a Saturday. Mary Ann decided her last day would be April 15th, leaving me alone in the office the final two weeks. There just wasn't enough work for the both of us and she wanted to focus on her classes the last month or so of the semester. Her six month severance would start the following Monday, April 18th and would run through until October 18th. She planned to finish her degree at UTPB and I had funded the final VP Tanks scholarship with enough money to cover her books and tuition, plus some spending money until her planned graduation in the spring of 1984.
I haven't talked much about Rick, not much to talk about. He was the same. It had been two months since he had broken. He hadn't talked at all in that time. After rounds of tests the doctors came to a few conclusions. He wasn't dangerous, just cracked. He spent most of his time looking out the window. Manic depression was the primary diagnosis and that did make some sense looking back over the last few months, he had definitely been manic, talking to the devil and all, and perhaps this quiet period was an example of the depression side of things.
But one doctor also suspected some form of schizophrenia and that was due to the voices. Yes, voices, the count had officially grown to three. One voice cried all of the time, another voice made him angry (perhaps his old nemesis the devil) and the third voice he referred to as his son, which didn’t make sense for as far as we knew he didn’t have a son.
No one could figure it out. Rick parents couldn’t understand what was happening to him and to them. With the dual diagnosis of manic depression and schizophrenia the doctors had a field day with a number of drugs, and at times the drugs seemed to help. He would calm and quiet down for a few days and would almost seem lucid. But the drugs had a negative effect on his physical health, making him sick to his stomach and jittery.
I watched all of this from a distance. I visited Rick about once a week, usually in the afternoon. Those meetings would usually be completely one sided with me telling him what was going on, but every once in awhile he would mumble something to me. That's how I learned of the three voices.
“Do you hear that crying? Surely you hear that?”
It was strange to hear someone else say that. In the past, growing up, it was always me who heard the noises and voices no one else heard. I would listen very intently, but other than the sound of our voices and the noise clutter that all hospitals have, I never heard a damn thing. I wasn't sure what to do, should I act like I heard the voices, go along with Rick or be honest? A hard decision, so I tried both. The first time I lied.
“Yeah, Rick I do. I wonder who it is?”
Rick looked at me with his head cocked and then spoke.
“Bullshit, you don't hear anything. You're lying. You know what voices sound like, you know what it's like to hear what no one else can hear. Why would you lie to me?”
He caught me on two fronts. I was lying and he knew I had heard things.
“No one is speaking to you right now. I know it. Just me, just me, they're talking only to me. Soon enough, soon enough, you'll hear them. You better listen, you better listen.”
I didn't lie to him anymore about the voices. Another day he told me about the voice that made him angry. Listening to him I was pretty sure the Devil or one of his emissaries had come calling.
One day he told me about his son.
“I worry about him. I hope he finds his way.”
“Do you talk to him often?”
“Almost every day now, but most times it is all in my head. That's how it works, he can hear my thoughts, and I his. No need to speak out loud, no need at all. Did I tell you I worry about him? I hope he finds his way. I hope you do too. Listen to the skeleton man, he knows much, the skeleton man knows more than he says. Listen in between the words for his message.”
Well, that about scared the shit out of me. I had told no one about the skeleton man. How the hell did Rick know? I had to know so I asked him.
“I know the skeleton man. He's a friend of mine, he does good work. But you're making it hard for him, too hard. I don't know why you do that, but you do.”
Then he shut up. I asked Rick several more questions but that was it. He talked no more that day and didn't talk at all the next week.
While this was all going on I was also meeting with Rick's dad for lunch on Mondays. I told Mr. Anders the latest status of our business and if any money had come in over the last week I also brought him a check. Mr. Anders told me about Rick and how things were going on at home.
“We've resigned ourselves that Rick is gone. We haven't lost hope, but there's just been so little progress in two months. The voices scare his mom and he seemed to figure that out because last week he didn't mention the voices at all. Sometimes I come by during the lunch hour, so it is just him and me. Then he tells me he still hears the voices. I guess he thinks I can take it better than his mom can. I don't know.
“The doctors say there is really nothing they can do for him at the hospital that can't be done at home so it looks like he will be coming home the end of March.”
“That's good news.”
“Yes, I guess it is, but still, it is hard to take. The insurance you two set up has been a big help and your plan to keep the insurance going after VP Tanks is gone is a good one. Like I said before, you've been a good friend to Rick, particularly the last two months with all you've done making sure he can be taken care of.”
I didn't say anything to that. I didn't feel like such a good friend. My friend was sick and I didn't know how to make him better.
“Mr. Anders, do you think Rick would like his desk and chair from VP Tanks? I could move them this week, before Rick comes home. Maybe it might help him.”
“That's an idea. I like it. You don't need it any more?”
“No sir, I need to start thinking about what I'll do with all of the stuff there and it just came to me that you all might like to have some of what's there.”
“That would be nice.”
“He has a few personal belongings there, not a lot, but I could move it all this week.”
“Thanks, Drew. Just let us know when it would be convenient for you.”
“How about tomorrow afternoon or evening? Would you like me to wait until you're there? Then we can both get things rearranged in Rick's room.”
“Tomorrow evening would be fine, but don't worry about rearranging things, let Mrs. Anders do that. She would like having something to do.”
I decided to change the subject.
“How's Robert? I haven't heard about him in awhile.”
“Just fine. Just fine. Working hard, going to school. He's turned things around. He's coming down for Easter weekend. You should come by. Rick will be home by then, we plan on having a nice Easter lunch. It would be great if you could come by.”
I said I would and then we talked more business. Mr. Anders now had power of attorney on Rick's estate and was meeting with Kevin to get a complete picture of everything, real estate, savings and other investments that Rick had. With Rick coming out of the hospital, their biggest expense would go away. I decided to check up on the costs of in-home health care after our lunch. My guess is that Mrs. Anders would bear the brunt of Rick being home and could benefit from having some extra help.
The next day I loaded up Rick's desk and chair and everything else that belonged to him and at the end of the day drove over to the Anders’ house. I did most of the big moving and Mr. Anders and I followed Mrs. Anders instructions on where to rearrange the furniture in Rick's room. Once she was satisfied I said my goodbyes and went home.
On Friday, March 25th we shipped out our last job. I watched it roll out of our yard, then walked back in and had a beer. Mary Ann took the day off, she said it would be too emotional for her to know that the work was nearly done. Can't blame her, it took the better part of a six pack before I managed to get my head around the whole thing.
The next morning I drove to Austin. I arrived in Austin a little after mid-day and bought a bed, dresser, night stand, couch and a coffee table at a locally owned furniture store. Once I got all the furniture in the garage I started cleaning. Late that night I moved all the furniture in the house. I was tired, exhausted and slept well that night. I kept working all day Sunday. Monday I bought a few things for the house, some lamps, new drapes and blinds, towels for the bathroom and kitchen. Tuesday morning I drove back to Odessa.
I did have Easter lunch with the Anders. Rick had been home for a few days and had seemingly settled in. Robert looked good, tan and healthy. He liked Corpus Christi and was doing well at work and school. His parents kept asking him questions and he kept answering but I could tell he wanted to know more about Rick. Things quieted down during dinner and we all focused on the food. Mrs. Anders had outdone herself with one of the best hams I've ever had, a great salad, green beans, mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese. Dessert was a delicious banana pudding. I'm sure I gained five pounds that day as I kept going back for seconds and thirds. Mrs. Anders beamed every time I asked for more. While we ate I noticed a humming, very soft, almost in the background. At first I thought it was an electrical hum but after awhile I noticed there was a definite pattern or rhythm to the sound. Finally I had to find out.
“Does anyone else hear a hum?”
Robert, Mr. Anders and Mrs. Anders all looked up at me.
“What was that, Drew?”
“Do you hear a hum? I've been noticing it for the last several minutes.”
They all looked at each other, then looked back at me, each shaking their heads no.
I shrugged my shoulders, not thinking much of it until I looked at Rick, who had a sly smile on his face.
For the Anders my visit was too short. They asked me to stay longer but I told them I needed to go home. Robert walked me out the door. On the porch we talked for a few minutes about Rick but we didn't come to any useful conclusions.
April was the final month of VP Tanks. My entire focus was on getting the last checks from our last customers. By April 15th all that was outstanding was a final check on three 500 barrel tanks we had sold to an Andrews tank farm in March. As this was Mary Ann's last day at work, I took her out for a very nice lunch at Harrigans. It was a long leisurely lunch and Mary Ann had probably one too many margaritas. I had a couple of beers but was doing all right. Mary Ann might have been drinking to forget what the day meant.
Back at the office we worked on a few last pieces of paperwork and then I gave her a small envelope.
“What's this?”
“A going away card. I couldn't let you leave without a card.”
Mary Ann opened the envelope and pulled out her card. I had picked it out at a Hallmark store. It was a little schmaltzy but it got the point across. As she opened the card a piece of folded paper fell out and fell to the floor.
“And what's this?”
“A bonus check. For all you've done at VP Tanks. You've been a big part of our success and both Rick and I want you to know how much we appreciate everything you've done.”
She unfolded the paper, looked at it and then looked at me.
“My God, you can't do this. You can't.”
“Yes, I can. Really, you could ask for more. You deserve it. You kept this place organized, clean and running during our craziest times.”
“But, Drew, Drew. This check is for...” She stared at it again and then spoke in a whisper “twenty-five thousand dollars. My God, Drew, my God.”
“Like I said you deserve it.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Say thanks, have a good life and call me every once in awhile. And if I call you a little late at night after drinking too much, just tolerate me for a moment or two. That's all.”
“How late?”
“If I call after 11:00 you can hang up on me, but before then you have to listen to me for a bit.”
She laughed, so did I. I got a very nice hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Mary Ann insisted on staying until 5:00. When she left she gave me another good hug, another kiss on the cheek and she walked out of the door, her time at VP Tanks finished.
I stayed until 7:00 pm, sitting in the quiet office and thinking back on the last few years. The last two weeks would be slow. I was planning to catch up on my reading.
The following Monday morning I prepared for my meeting with Mr. Anders. Over lunch we went through the last bit of the financial state of VP Tanks. I had one check for him, covering three checks that had come in the last week. I told him that Friday had been Mary Ann's last day.
“You took care of her?”
“Yes, I did, a nice bonus check, six months severance and a scholarship fund so she can finish up at UTPB.”
“Good, Rick liked Mary Ann.”
“She'll be fine.”
“Are you coming over this week?”
“Yes, how does Wednesday afternoon sound?”
“That would be good. I know you wonder if your visits matter, but I think they do. Mrs. Anders definitely thinks they do.”
“You've got to tell her to quit having something baked fresh ready for me every Wednesday. I'm telling you I have to run nearly every day in order to work off the calories I pick up at your house on Wednesday's afternoons.”
“She likes to bake and she knows you've got a sweet tooth, so there's no chance she's going to stop. Just keep running.”
I had been running every day now for the last month. As work slowed down I had to do something different and I convinced myself that drinking more than two beers before twelve noon was probably not the best thing to do. Kaiser was too old to run so I was on my own. I would come in to the office at 7:00, work for an hour, then go out for a run at 8:00, get back to the office by 8:45, take sort of a spit shower in the office bathroom, get dressed and go back to work. The run helped clear my head and with all of the baked goods that Mrs. Anders had waiting for me every week I needed something to burn away the calories.
That first afternoon without Mary Ann I took her desk, chair and filing cabinet to a resale shop. The second afternoon without Mary Ann I started reading. I had picked up several books at the Walden's over the weekend. First up was a Western by Elmer Kelton, a writer that lived in San Angelo. I just needed something to lose myself in.
By Friday I had read three books. Most mornings I took care of what little paperwork there was and boxed things up. By 2:00 pm most days I was done with work and would crank the stereo up, put my feet up on my desk and read. This week Mrs. Anders had baked snickerdoodle cookies. She must have baked three dozen. I had six Wednesday afternoon and she insisted I take the rest with me. They added to my reading enjoyment, a good book, good music, iced tea and snickerdoodles. It wasn't a bad life.
The third week of April I drove down to Austin to work on the house. My goal for this week was to paint every room one single color. At some point someone had done just the opposite, every room was painted a different color. One afternoon I was painting what would be my bedroom when someone rang the doorbell. I stopped painting, wiped my hands, walked to the front door and opened it. A small boy, probably about five or six, was standing there. He had a wiffle ball and a bat.
“You play wiffle ball?”
“Haven't in awhile.”
“Want to play?”
I had to laugh. I looked out the door and up and down the street, trying to figure out where he had come from.
“Do you live nearby?”
“Next door” he said pointing to the house on his left, my right. “My name's Billy. What's yours?”
“Drew, Drew Remington. Nice to meet you, Billy.”
I offered him my hand and we shook. About that time a young, rather pretty woman came running across the yard.
“Billy, what are you doing? What have I told you about talking to strangers?”
“He's no stranger, he's my new friend Drew. Drew, this is my mom.”
I offered my hand and said “I'm Drew Remington, just moved in, well, really moved in last month but I've been taking my time.”
She smiled and shook my hand.
“I'm Diana Belton. We noticed you last month, after the Masterson's moved out. They said you own the house and had been renting it to them and that you're not from Austin.”
“That's right on all counts. I'm from Odessa, but I'll be going to UT this fall. Between now and then I will be coming here about once a month to work on the house. This week, as you can see, I'm painting.” I pointed out the splashes of paint on my shirt, jeans and shoes.
“I see. We live next door, the three of us. My husband is at work and I'm a stay at home mom for now.” She put her hand on Billy's shoulder and said “Billy has been watching you for the last couple of days. I guess he couldn't stand it any longer and had to meet you.”
She paused for a moment, seemed to assess me and I must have passed the test.
“My husband gets home around 6:00. Perhaps you could join us for dinner? Sort of a welcome to the neighborhood kind of thing. Nothing fancy, just Billy's favorite sloppy joes.”
“That's my favorite too. I would be glad to join you for dinner. Thank you.”
“How about some wiffle ball?”
“Billy!”
“Tell you what, pardner. Let me finish what I'm doing. I'm not at a real good breaking point, I need to at least finish the wall I'm working on.” I looked at my watch, it was 5:15 pm. “By the time I get the wall finished I'll have just enough time to clean up for dinner. Maybe we can play a little after dinner, if that's all right with your mom.”
Billy look slightly disappointed, but accepted his fate after looking at his mom.
“A little wiffle ball after dinner would be fine. We'll see you a few minutes after 6:00?”
“That you will, Diana, that you will.”
Diana and Billy left. I went back to work. I finished the room in plenty of time to get cleaned up, put on some fresh clothes and be at the Belton house at 6:05 pm. Mr. Belton, whose first name is Jay, had arrived a few minutes earlier from work. Diana introduced us, brought Jay a beer and asked if I wanted one. I did and a minute later Jay and I were sitting in the kitchen while Diana was finishing up dinner. I learned that Jay was a software engineer for a defense contractor in Austin. Jay asked what I did and I told him about VP Tanks and that I was a week away from closing it down. I didn't give him a lot of detail, just that I had promised my parents I would finish my degree once I was out of business and that's why I was in Austin.
“What are you going to major in?”
Well, that was a question I had not pondered in some time. I thought to myself for a moment before I answered.
“You know, if you had asked me that question five years ago I would have said some kind of engineering, but I don't think so anymore. I think I'm ready for a change of some kind. Maybe history, or literature. Guess I better make my mind up pretty quick.”
I took a sip of beer and nearly had it down before Jay pounced on me with his next question.
“Just how old are you?”
I looked over at Diana who seemed a little shocked by Jay's direct manner but as a guest in his house I figured I owed him an answer.
“Twenty-five.”
“And how many hours do you have?”
“Around 60, maybe 63.”
“Think they will transfer to UT? Sometimes they're pretty picky about what hours they accept.”
I smiled at that and thought back to my first semester at Odessa College where I picked what courses to take by using the UT catalog.
“Yeah, I'm pretty sure they will.”
“So you got two more years left.”
Two years is what it would take if I took 15 hours in the spring and fall and no summer school. With a schedule like that I could take all of my courses in the morning and be free from noon on every day. That would be relaxing, but it might be a little boring after working 50-70 hours the last several years. I didn't see any reason to not kick it up a notch, particularly since I was getting back into the reading habit the last month.
“No, I think less. I've been working long hours since I was 19. I'm used to it. I think I'll sign up for 18 hours at least, maybe more a semester. I think I can get through in less than two years. We'll see.”
From his expression I don't think Jay thought I could handle it.
“What do you think you can do with a history or literature degree? I don't see much of a market for either one.”
This time I was prepared. Since we first invested in Fidelity Magellan I read Fortune every month and other business magazines from time to time. From the articles I had read there was an increased interest in people who had liberal arts backgrounds, people who had proven they could learn. To me that was one path, another was teaching, and the truth was I had enough money stashed away that unless I went wild I wouldn't have to work all that much for quite a long while. I didn't see a need to tell Jay all of that.
“Not sure, I might teach. Right now I just want to get back to school.”
He wasn't totally satisfied with my answer but sensed that he wasn't going to get a more gung ho, balls to the walls, capitalist, business is where I want to be answer so he didn't push any further.
About the time our conversation dropped to a lull Diana said dinner was ready. Billy came running in from his room where he had been playing. Diana and Billy joined Jay and me at the kitchen table and we ate a good meal of sloppy joes, potato chips and iced tea. Desert was Neapolitan ice cream. Billy avoided the strawberry band but ate all of his chocolate and vanilla.
While Diana cleaned up the kitchen us men went into the backyard. The three of us played some wiffle catch and I showed Billy how to throw a wiffle curve. Not a bad way to spend an evening. Around 8:00 Jay told Billy it was time for his bath and then to bed. I took this as an opportunity to make my leave. I had a long drive home tomorrow and wanted to get to bed early myself. I shook the adults' hands but when I tried to do the same with Billy he rushed me for a hug.
“When you coming back?”
“It will be a few weeks, but starting next month I'll probably be here at least twice a month.”
“Good, you'll have to come over for dinner again.”
I said good night to everyone and walked back to my house. By 9:00 I was in bed myself and the next morning I was up early and driving back to Odessa.
The last week of April our last customer made their last payment to VP Tanks. I deposited the check, wrote another check for half the amount to Rick, which I would give to his dad the following Monday.
With the last check in there was no more business to be conducted at VP Tanks. I spent the last week cleaning up the office, emptying trash, packing up all my drawings, our business records and belongings. I decided to keep my drafting board and got it ready to load into the bed of my truck. I also decided to take two of the blackboards with me to Austin. I was making the second bedroom in my house into a study and I planned to use the blackboards for tracking important dates each semester. Through working with Rick and my measures tracking I had developed a more organized approach to my work and life and I was planning to apply it to school.
Wednesday afternoon I loaded up my drawings and the last of our business records, dropped them off at our house and visited Rick. I asked him about the rhythmic hum I had heard on Easter Sunday. He just smiled. I was beginning to think I was the butt of a subtle joke.
Thursday I wrapped up the two blackboards in moving blankets and loaded them carefully in my truck bed. I drove slowly home that night, trying to avoid every harsh bump in the roads. I did get the blackboards home safely and stashed them in a corner of the garage.
Friday, April 29th was my last day at VP Tanks. I was at the office at 7:00 am and immediately went for a run. Once I was back and cooled down I checked our refrigerator, six beers left. My plan was to drink them all before the day was done. After lunch I loaded up my drafting table, stool, desk and chair into my truck bed. Into the cab I put all of the small drafting equipment, my stereo and the microwave oven. After that I sat down in my chair and drank a few beers. At 5:00 pm I looked around. All that was left was one blackboard and the refrigerator. I decided to leave them around. I loaded my chair in the bed of my truck, opened my last beer, said a silent toast, turned out the lights, locked the door and drove home.
It was done, VP Tanks was no more. Rick was broken. I might be broken too.
Author’s note: According to Wikipedia, T. S. Eliot said the title of his poem “The Hollow Men” is combination or merger of “The Hollow Land” by William Morris, and the poem “The Broken Men” by Rudyard Kipling.
We are a little over 2/3 of the way through The Hollow Men, but there is still a lot to cover before we get to the end. A friend of mine at a large oil/gas company (it used to be an energy company but in the early 1980’s it doubled down on being an oil/gas company) said a few years ago “things move slow here until they move fast.” That’s how the last episodes will move, things move slow until they move fast. Over the years I’ve come to realize how wise a statement that is…
Next week, in Episode 26, Drew falls into a new pattern of living post VP Tanks, meets with Stan the Skeleton man who has a confusing message for Drew, Rick comes up with a mantra that makes no sense to Drew, Rick lets Drew know that he is aware of more than it seems, and Drew leaves for Austin as the rift between him and his Dad grows.