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Jason
Anger has a mean grip on me at the moment. Ken is in there, withher.I should’ve known from the very day that ass-wipe began here, that nothing good will come about. It hasn’t been too long since I ran my mouth about what I believe is happening to the rigs. And of course, he’d deny it. The level of my frustration is moving up the ladder much quicker than I thought.
Why would he blow his cover?
My anger is at its peak and I look around for something to help displace it before Ken gets here and I punch him out. That would be a suspension of two weeks, without pay. Can’t be caught in that kind of predicament. Not again. Tossing a punch into another oilman, got me thinking better of it . Out I go, having to take anger management classes.
What a fucking waste of my time. Thinking about the counselors in that joint just moving us around, answering the same questions over and over, didn’t stop my anger. I didn’t learn a thing about controlling anger, but I did read an article about displacing it, transferring it to a different object.
So far, that’s been the only thing to help.
Finally settling on a site, I slam my fist into the metal piling on the rig. Fuck! That hurt. But I guess it’s better for me to let the anger out on this rather than Ken’s face. I shake my hand and notice a small cut bleeding. Damn, I know that fucker is up to no good. Not sure how I’ll get Tamara to see that without any proof.
And why, all of the sudden, does she not believe what I’m saying? And since when does she stick up for a new guy anyway? I’m trying to protect the company from being taken down with corporate espionage. Go ahead and laugh, tell me I’m paranoid. But some day, you’ll see that I’m right about this hunch lingering around in my gut.
Tamara and I have been working together for so long now.
Definitely way more than Ken. He tells me that right before he came here, he did the grind for one of our biggest competitors. If that doesn’t smell rotten, what does? I try to pry information from him like, why did he leave the other job and why did he apply here? No answer. Hell, anything I ask him, he refuses to answer.
The man is like Fort Knox and one might as well not try to get any information from him. He just won’t budge. Keeps to himself a lot too. A drifting loner that can’t settle in a community because of all the rigs and companies he’s brought down.
I turn toward the building and see the big ape open the door. I get in my tough guy stance, to be ready when he gets here. Crossing my arms, I place my feet shoulder-width apart, remembering that this isn’t the first time a rig’s messed up. Me and the other guys have a feeling that the competition was doing it.
But no proof can be found, and with no proof, no accusations can stick.
Ken is finally face to face with me. “Let’s not take any longer to get this fixed, so that we don’t have to be in close proximity to one another.” he says, glowering at me.
“Not until you answer some questions for me,” I dare him to walk and refuse to answer.
“What in the fuck do you need to know, Jason?” he says, exasperation dripping from his tone.
“I want to know why you’re breaking these rigs,” I demand as I uncross my arms, pointing to the ground. “And why you left the other oilfield?”
“I think that you should mind your own business,” he says arrogantly. “And your business right now is to help me fix that rig.”
“Not before you give me the answers that I want,” I massage the hand that hurts. “I can tell when someone isn’t on the up and up. People have tells that give them away when they’re lying.”
“Damn it, man,” he shakes his head, wiping sweat from his brow. “Why in the hell would I apply and start this job, but then sneak back in to fuck up some of the rigs? Why would I leave one company to come here and sabotage any of this equipment? Especially because it’s been happening for a while now.”
He had a good point, but I counter his question with another accusation. “Because you need insider information to dish out to one of our competitors.”
He laughs at me causing the heat to rise back up my spine. “Me?”
“Stop before I knock your teeth down your throat so hard that you’d be shitting them for a week.” He continues laughing, so I pull my arm back, preparing to punch him in the kisser. But I see Tamara’s face in my mind. She wouldn’t like this. I put my hands down, remembering my relationship with her.
Ken sees the change in my demeanor and settles himself down. Shaking his head, he puts a hand on my shoulder and I shrug it off. “Man, you must watch way too much television.” Still seething, I turn and follow the asshole to the rig to try to fix it. I still don’t trust him and I keep pressing him for information about his background. He looks at me with anger flashing in his eyes.
“I’m tired of this! Who the fuck are you?” he asks, tossing the wrench on the ground. “To ask or tell me anything ‘cause you barely know me?” He walks around the rig to face me. “You act like you own the company and her, that’s she’s some kind of personal pet that you feel should believe you without proof.” He thinks a moment and adds, “I’ll have you know she fucked me on the conference table!”
“No, fuck you, running to her to tattle like a kid! What?” I stop. “Did you sayshefucked you? We’ve known each other for years! YOU have no rights for having been here a couple of days!” I shout at him. “Besides, she’s fucked me too!” I say, making it sound like it happens often. I watch that settle on him.
My anger boils over as the look on his face alludes to more in his head. “If anything, that means she’s mine.” He blinks his eyes as the anger increases.
“It doesn’t mean a god damned thing and I told you to fucking mind your own business,” he demands through gritted teeth. “God damn it!” he throws his cap down on the ground hard.
I can’t believe that she would fuck a new guy!
