Roughneck is Born (eBook)

CHAPTER ONE

Coming from a town of around 6000 people, many of whom were either working in the oil and gas industry or were profiting from providing services to the people working in the industry, was both a curse and a blessing. There was good money to be made for any guy with no training or formal education who was willing to do hard work. On the other hand, for someone who wanted clean, easy work with big city amenities around, then it was a gulag. The advertised population didn’t take into account the transient labor force, which could boost the number of people by 20,000 during the winter drilling periods.

While Brian was a longtime resident, he had never felt the pull to get into the big money that could be made by any guy smart enough to pound sand. What companies required wasn’t someone with any real technical skill or formal education. The ideal candidate was a farm boy. Someone who could keep machinery running using whatever happened to be handy, was used to hard work and harsh conditions and pretty much certain to stay local.

He was too smart for grunt work, yet not smart enough to have shown any real desire for more cerebral occupations. In a high school math class, being shown the difference between combinations and permutations, the teacher was showing the importance of order in the numbers. For the purpose of demonstration, and to goad Brian into taking more interest in the subject, he got a good laugh from everyone in class.

“Take for instance, BRIAN”, the instructor exhorted. “If we change these two letters around, we get BRAIN, which are two entirely different things!” Cue classroom laughter.

He didn’t mind. It was just nice to have that sense of camaraderie. Normally he was a kind of outsider, in that he wasn’t really popular but not someone who was there to be picked on. His best venue was in athletics where he could easily rise to the top, but then again he would be just as likely to coast rather than put in the extra effort to be one of the stars.

Still, he graduated, and the future beckoned. While his school compatriots left for places of higher learning or started their careers, Brian felt he had all the time in the world. He would just hang for a while and enjoy the pleasures of no responsibility with the misfits; sleep late, get drunk, take whatever drugs were available (mostly pot) and party whenever they had a quorum. Since he was still living with his parents, things like rent, bills, food and clothing were taken care of, so all he had to do was scrape up enough money to support his fun. His parents weren’t quite ready to force him to shape up, so they still give him money to get out and hopefully find something useful to do. When a big enough party was in the air, the fact that he had a car meant that he would have lots of extra passengers, unless he could make a quick enough get away with just the few he really wanted.

As most of his motley crowd had no abodes of their own, or homes to go where they could get shitfaced and generally try to maintain a good high, a private location where the RCMP didn’t prowl was down the common lease road. These were built and maintained by the oil companies, so entrance was restricted to authorized personnel only. Not that any sign stating this stopped anyone, but a locked gate at some entrances gave pause. These were the sites of oil or gas wells, and for the most part, a pump jack that rocked like a bird sipping water from a cup.

Brian cruised down to the local pool hall called ‘The Rig’ to meet up with Jeff who could always be counted on to get things going. He parked in the mostly empty lot and made for the front door enjoying the still, warm July air while thinking that a cold beer was definitely in order. Walking in through the doors he could see the old regulars at the snooker table near the back, playing their nonchalant and seemingly endless game. Two of the girls he normally partied with waited for someone to come in and get something going. Up ahead, standing at the row of video and pinball machines, was his festivity felicitator.

He almost came to a stop at the girls’ table, but they didn’t acknowledge him and seemed to scorn his presence. Feeling a little put off, he carried on to where Jeff was trying to get the highest score at ‘Space Invaders’. Brian hadn’t spent the time to get very good at this game but could appreciate the skill it took to earn a spot amongst the best.

“Hey there, Brain! What’s up man? I’ve just about beat J.M. That must be Jim Maclean. Bastard!” Jeff said while bouncing and shifting his weight from side to side along with the action on the screen. “I talked to Doug just a while ago. He was looking for Swede. When he gets back we can go for a hoot with him.” Jeff just assumed that Brian was looking to get stoned. It was a safe bet.

After a few games of foosball, Doug sauntered through the door with two other guys ready to smoke the wealth. By now the girls, Kathy and Anna, had long since finished their private conversation and were ready to roll. With the core group assembled, everyone piled into the vehicles and headed for the beer store. Having a car with a respectable stereo was almost as good as having permission to help oneself to any booze at a bush party, but Brian wanted to have a little ammunition in case anyone accused him of being a parasite. He kicked in for a dozen himself, especially since Doug was buying two cases after having already procured the pot. Running into a few other customers gave them information on what other gatherings where happening. A little party down at ‘The Place’, an out of the way spot known to most people, about ten miles west of town, sounded perfect. It was a nice sandy area by a river, over usually muddy roads and accessed off of a lease road; a private venue where you could let it all hang out.

Buoyed by expectations of a big gathering, people piled into the cars and headed out. The only rule was that nobody opened up any bottles or even rolled a joint until they were well off the pavement. As soon as the tires hit gravel they all made a thorough look behind and proceeded to dig in to the goodies. The evening was cool with all the rain lately, but a bonfire would take care of that. The thin layer of mud wasn’t too bad, it could be a lot worse and by the river it was quite park-like. All in all, Brian felt that life couldn’t get much better that it was right now. With a cold brew between his legs, pretty girls and good friends along for the ride, great tunes with a toke and driving off into the sunset; what more could you ask for? These were the riches that men fought for!

After five miles the road came to a tee and the directions from here were landmarks and things like ‘turn at the rubber boot on the fence post’. Rolling slowly down the well-beaten tracks into the darkening woods, firelight and a few headlights appeared ahead. Parking on the outskirts of the group of vehicles, Brian paused to get a look at who was here while most jumped out with their drinks in hand ready to make some memories. He couldn’t see many people that he knew well and although he recognized everyone he could see, none of them were guys he ever really hung around with at all. The reason for that was that he didn’t like to get in fights unless it was unavoidable. Five of the faces he could make out liked just the opposite.

One saving grace about this particular place and time was that almost nobody went around armed, and if a guy did happen to have a knife it was taboo to use it in common combat. That is unless you wanted to get everyone set against you. There were stories of cowards who had pulled a blade out only to have themselves tackled and beaten to a bloody pulp.

There was no way to leave unless everyone he brought all wanted to go, and who knows? It might be fun. The others were laughing and smoking around the outskirts of the fire, starting to mingle and lighten up what had started to look like a gathering of troglodytes preparing for some dark ritual. Besides that, the slightly paranoid feeling from the pot was being over-ridden by his second beer, and the high was intensifying.

Getting out of the car with a case of beer in hand for fortification and as possible peace offering, Brian ambled over to where a small cluster of fellow tentative revelers stood well back from the fire, but not too far, as darkness and a chill was settling in. The group greeted him joyously and the drinking and toking began in earnest. He hardly even thought about anyone else outside the little alliance as their laughter got louder, more constant, and the conversation goofier every minute.

“We’re all sitting around and he’s there on the floor by the door, just loaded, with his head hanging down and he’s saying ‘I’m a dolphin! I’m a dolphin!’” Onlookers tittered and roared with laughter at the buffoonery of one of their own. “And then Jeff starts piling cans on him when he’s passed out. We just left him there!” Brian had found himself an appreciative audience and his glow was definitely on. After five beers and two joints the light from the fire cast the scene in a dusky rosiness and became as comfy as his own room. His gestures more grandiose, his voice louder, and the way he moved as if on a ships’ deck in rough seas, all put him on center stage, at least as far as he could see, which wasn’t far at the moment. While the other partyers outside his sphere weren’t as amused, they let him be...