Roughnecks' Luck

Roughnecks' Luck
A short story by Diana Weeks

Cliff whistled to the tune on the radio and realized he was feeling drenched in peace and happiness. At the red light he closed his eyes and saw his wife that morning leaning over him… using a strand of her red hair to tickle his lips. Connie teased him with her cheer leading rhythm, whispering “Let’s do it…Let’s do it…Let’s do It.”, while climbing on top of him. ..And just breathing against her freckled shoulder … let her take him to her heaven.

Afterward he followed her into their shower and washed her back and they talked about the ‘Wonder” in their passion and Connie giggled and kissed him between pantyhose and blouse while she dressed for work. Honk, honk, honk! Blair jumped and laughed at himself...marveling at how much his new wife enjoyed loving on him.

His first brief high school wife did nothing but complain about his off shore drilling job. He liked the money. He liked using his muscles and being active…but a job on land … spending every night with Connie… instead of having to be apart for weeks at a time.

Cliff shook his head… he couldn’t believe that he was even thinking about changing jobs. It surprised him…so much that he decided to go on out to the rig early. They had hired a new cook… Cliff’s oil patch pal, Bobby, had worked for Red who said “That Chef could stop a mutiny”.

From Skip, the boat captain taking him to the deep water rig in the Gulf…he learned that the bossy boss had flown in from Europe and been taken to the rig earlier…”Yes, he came with his prissy accent and complained that cagins were too slow and wasted time and time was money”…Skip raised his voice…I wanted to slug him…why hell, we invented oil”.

The men on the crew he had come to relieve were pumping from a gigantic off shore pool of sweet oil… that was light brown and thin, it doesn’t need as much refining as black crude… for double rich profits… Cliff went below to eat and was full of fluffy pancakes when he came back up. Bobby was standing still, taking off his blackened gloves… so Cliff grins and asks “Any thing up?”

“We’re behind schedule” Bobby whispers under his breath and slaps his dirty gloves together. “We’re waiting for the top dogs to get out of a meeting with the rig owner…the alpha dog… before continuing”.

Cliff didn’t stop grinning. Bobby looked at him…”You look like you got lucky.” Cliff laughed. “You’re blushing” Bobby added… poking Cliff in the side.

‘So I may as well let you go home early.” Cliff offered “You know how long those meetings can last…maybe you’ll get lucky”.

“I’ll lay siege to our bedroom, barricade her in with me…and let the kids bang on the door,” Bobby promised, and was gone in a blink.

Cliff joined Bobby’s huddled crew and listened. They were all talking at once… concerned about the bottom pipes. Two miles down… “BB is gonna say to use sea water, a faster but not better stablalizing method” the oldest roughneck explains to himself in a low voice while wiping mud from his jump suit.… The “kid” said “The safety test showed that the cut off cap broke up; and the liquid mud that rained on us … had capping rubber particles in it...”

“Do the big guys know that?”… Cliff asks…and the men laugh…”They know their huge bonuses are at stake”…the old guy whispers “probably they are bumping chests claiming it won’t blow out....it can’t happen Ha Ha Ha”. Just then the crew chief’s phone rang…Cliff watched him listening and frowning darkly even while saying “Yes sir”… and turns to his men “We’ve got to catch up we’re behind schedule”.

Thirty minutes later… they saw the big dogs leaving and noticed their company’s hound had his tail between his legs.

Two hours later….a low rumbling sound started coming from below. Cliff’ was sent to tighten bolts in the pump room. The grumble hick cupped and the sound of a deafening explosion was the last thing Cliff heard…The orange flames the last thing he felt.

TO BE CONTINUED...

NEXT WEEK:
CONNIE FIGHTS BACK



ALL RIGHTS RESERVED