The Saga, Part 11 -- Doesn't Everyone in Kentucky Live on a Horse Farm?
The next day, all of us learned an established routine. I got up at 6 am, after 4-5 hours of sleep, walked to the Greek restaurant for my breakfast and blessing, always bearing some kind of gift, (found wherever I could I could find anything, usually cigars from the gas station). The father and his sons were very kind to me. It was the only real hot food that I could find, and I was afraid to eat much, because they wouldnt let me pay for my meal. The horribly confusing delicatessen was the only other food I could find. Long before Seinfeld coined the phrase, I thought of the man at the deli as The Cold Cut Nazi.
I struggled to learn Greek, to keep up with my work out at the well field, and to try and fit into this new environment. As far as Greek goes, the father and I made some progress, stuffing this thick Irish/English/Scottish/German/Cherokee head with some Greek. More than anything, it helped that the father blessed me, every day. I told the son in EnglishI would not survive here, without your fathers blessing. He told his father, who nodded wisely, and patted my cheek. My little family , I thought of them. I had nothing to offer them, but Agape, and what few gifts I could find.
This morning, and all those to follow for the next three weeks, I arrived at the well field in the monster car between 7:30-8:00 am, to relieve the night shift. That first morning, Fred met me, bleary eyed. He had a very long day the day before. His beard drooped, which was amazing, because I didnt know that perky Fred could droop. He was still neatly pressed and clean as a whistle, and I told him, You look band-box fresh!
Ugh, he said. Dennis is here. He is, uh, different. Ill be back tomorrow morning. He climbed into his water company truck and wearily drove off. I understood to a tee, how tired he was. Measuring anything, even with help, for every hour, on end, is bone-wearing. Your nerves are always geared up for the next measurement, just waiting for that timer to beep. The only way to relax is to take turns, two or three hour shifts, and try to sleep between them. Reeling in that sample thief was even worseit gets awfully heavy about 3 am. I knew Fred would never admit to weakness, and I understood. I couldnt eithernot and keep my job, that is.
Dennis was a very young Irishman, fresh off the boat from County Cork. Danny gi me the job, he said in a thick brogue. Wout Danny, I couldna be here.
Danny is very good to all of you, isnt he? I asked. He is a very good man.
Dennis looked at me strangely for a bit. I wondered if I had suddenly sprouted warts. Dannys my uncle, he said, almost defensively. Me mum is Dannys sis at home.
Thats wonderful! I said, meaning it. What did he think; that I was buttering up to Danny? He is a good uncle! He must love you and your mother very much! Little did he know that nepotism is a way of life down in Kentucky. So, hes your uncle? So what?
People in the big city may cry foul if family members are hired in government jobs, but not at home. No one would ever have a job if it werent for some good old American know-who. Everybody and his brother works at the police station. Of course they do, the Police Chief has six sons; where else would they work?
It never occurred to me that job markets functioned any other way, until many years later. I had gotten my job because a friend at church, Beth, had a very nice friend, Debbie, who worked as a part-time secretary for her father, Jim, who was an oil and gas geologist, and knew that the position was available from another oil and gas geologist, Tom, that worked down the street from the office and was the brother of my next-door neighbors sister-in-law. That is just the way the system works, down here.
Dennis and I sat down in the lawn chairs that leaned more by the hour. Dennis said, Yer pretty rich, arent ye?
Rich? Me? I was astounded, What on earth do you mean?
Charlie told us about yer house an all in Kentucky. Yeve got a fancy car like the friends, he waved to the Cadillac. Ye must be doin all this for a lark.
Dennis, I said, Youve got the absolute wrong idea about me. Im not rich by any means. It is much less expensive to live in Kentucky than here. What do you pay for rent?
Dennis considered me for a moment, and said, I pay Danny $400 a month to live in the garage. He fixed up an apartment for me.
I thought a minute, and considering I was paying $90 a night for a hotel/kitchenette fully equipped with cockroaches, he was probably getting a good deal. I pay $185 a month for my house. I paid $9 for a sandwich last night that I could have gotten at home for $3. The car is a rental car; it isnt mineI rented it, and I explained the foul-up at the rental car company. At home, I drive a 1978 Ford Grenada. It is a semi-mobile piece of junk. Pieces of it fall off as I drive down the highway.
He nodded doubtfully. I said in exasperation, Dennis, I have to work for my living. If I were working for a lark, Id never choose to sit out here for three weeks, in all kinds of weather, terrified of the friends, the punks, and owls. Believe me, there are a lot of things I could do just to have fun!
Dennis said, not believing a word of it, But everyone knows that people in Kentucky live w the horses!
Dennis, I said, Very few people in Kentucky live on horse farms. I live in a subdivision in a home just like everyone else. It is a small home, and it is all I can do to pay for it. I dont live with horses, although it would be fun! What was he thinking?
He nodded, chewing over this latest tidbit. What else are the guys saying? I asked, suspiciously.
Ye dinna sleep w Danny did ye? He asked, glancing sideways to see if I were really a wanton woman.
Dennis! I said, in surprise. NO! Whatever gave anyone that idea?
Weel, Danny dinna want ye here, then ye got the job, he said defensively.
Danny graciously allowed me to do my job, because my boss is in the Bahamas and cant be reached by phone. Danny couldnt find my boss to have me fired! Sleeping with him had nothing to do with it! I was indignant! Come on, its time to take measurements!
I stomped my way up the path to the monitoring well, and noticed that the bramble was gone. Someone in the night had obviously tangled with it one too many times and slashed it back. Good! I would like to do some slashing myself! I thought. Then, I glanced up into the woods and got a shock. A man in a big hat was standing up the hill, casually smoking a cigarette. We were being watched very carefully. I sketched a wave, he stared at me, unimpressed, and I went about my work.
After taking measurements, I drove back down to Well #1, where Danny was berating Dennis, both hands on his hips. I couldnt hear the conversation, nor did I want to. I just stopped the car, and backed up the lane to Well #2, and sat in the driveway. Presently, Danny drove up the lane, slowly, tentatively. He slowly got out of the car and I got out to meet him. How embarrassing! I thought . How embarrassing for Danny! He has to work with these people! Are they all under the impression that I reeled at the thought.
Danny, glanced at my face, and said, Hes a knucklehead! His mother married a bluidy Orangemen, and hes never been right in the head. Pay no mind to im, girrul, hes gone back for the day. Ill send someone else out to be w ye.
It is all right, Danny, I said. Youd think Id be used to it by now, but Im surprised, every time. I stopped and searched his eyes, Danny, Sally doesnt think that, does she?
No, girrul, she dinna think that about ye, he said, and smiled. She wants ye to join us for Paddys celebration! Well leave that knucklehead at home.
Paddys celebration? I asked. What is that?
Danny laughed and slyly winked at me, Paddy OMalley has been w the force now for 25 years, and Im throwing a party for he and his chums! Tis only fittin that ye come, Marsha, since ye aire the one that brought us together again.
What? I asked, startled.
Danny had that crafty, redheaded monkey look to him again, Weel, Paddy and I hadna spoken t one another for a bit, since I won the election. Not until ye were here, and he got to holler at me down the wire, so to speak Made him feel better, ye know. So, Im givin him a little party, to celebrate his service. Then well be friends again, and I can win my next election! He caint stab my back if I give im a party now, can he? He laughed and clapped my shoulder, So, ye see, girrul, why tis only fittin ye be there!
Id love to go! Is there someone that can cover for me here? I asked.
Sure, well get someone here to cover for ye. No worry about that. He smiled, pleased. Ill get someone else here, ye wont be alone long.
Danny, I said, we are being carefully watched. I dont think anything will happen. I can do this by myself during the day if you are having trouble lining up help. I just need to be able to rest at night.
He stopped, Watched aire ye? He looked in my eyes, By the friends?
Yes. They are standing up the hill, just making sure all is quiet. I said softly. Im not afraid. I met Mr. Cabinerarri last night, and he was very nice.
Weel, he said, considering. Yere safe here. Theyll not bother you, and it never hurts to have an extra eye on the proceedings. Dont worry, Ill send someone out, but it may take a bit to get them here.
Thank you, Danny, I said. Ill look forward to seeing you sometime later on!
I watched Danny as he drove down the lane, talking on his radio to the dispatcher. Alone again, but with the silent guardians in the hills.
Thanks for coming by!
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The saga continues...
It was quite a shock to realize that there were people up in the hills, watching everything we did...
Hope you have a nice evening!
Night y'all-- Peep has a horn lesson tomorrow night, so I may not be back until late! I hope you enjoy the story!
Awesome! I knew that there was a reason I hung around so late.
Was poking around on my groups, come back out, and here is Dowsers latest article in the series that keeps everyone waiting for more.
Nicely done!
Thank you, dear friend! Tomorrow will be better! A trip to Patrick's Pub!
Note about my car, the Semi-mobile Piece of Junk-- You may note that the picture of the car has a tire in the driver's seat. Now, THAT was a familiar site!
Dowser wrote: You may note that the picture of the car has a tire in the driver's seat.
Minnie replied: I was wondering about that.....
That was the worst car I've ever had, and I've driven some clunkers... Literally-- when I drove down the road, pieces fell off. It got 8 miles to the gallon . I lived between gas station trips.
thanks so much for coming by, Minnie! I need to get the next one up!
Well everyone fromKentuckyis rich, right?
OK I find that coming from him a bit odd, given the area you were working in is one of thewealthiesttowns in the US. You were minutes away from the "Miracle Mile", that Billy Joel sang about in "It's still Rock n Roll to me. That song was as much about the rich Long Island Scene in the '80's as it was about music. It goes to show the misconceptions we have about each other in this big country we live in. Amazing!
Great song!
I thought he was a nut-- and so did everyone else! RICH!!! Hahahahahaha!
I was earning about 70% of my male counterparts, working 60-80 hours a week on a salary, and struggling to pay my bills.
And yet, I was rich, in my friends and health. That boy needed a good thumping.
BETTER THAN any book I've read lately love it. Thanks