You're Always 17 Ch. 02

Looking back, through the prism that has developed as my recollections of my past are proven wrong, I see that my love for Julie, my relationship with Julie, was never as potent as my love for and relationship with the one nestled under my arm. Yes, like me, she had to special order the Denali with a front bench seat so we could travel side by side.

Billy Goat Hill and Nanny Goat, across the road, weren't all that impressive in daylight, but I promised to bring them back tonight so we could see the lights of town, and the impressive array of stars. Not as impressive an array as west Texas, with its low humidity and almost no light pollution, but still impressive compared to the more populated areas of Texas.

Vincent's Crossing was gated and locked off; the county road was now "Privately Maintained." I assume the high fences I could see to the south meant the landowners simply didn't want the public riding down the road beside their land or stopping on the historic bridge. I shook my head in disgust. The families the used to own this land welcomed us, and allowed swimming and cooking in fire pits, as long as we cleaned up.

The oil and gas royalties produced by the Eagle Ford Shale production, and the taxes produced for the city, county, and school district, meant many areas of the county and community had been upgraded; the most obvious being streets and roads. The new football and track stadium, with its shiny metal bleachers and field turf instead of grass and grassburrs, lacked the character of the pipe and wood monstrosity in which we played - although I could have done without the grassburrs back then.

We rode out to an old dam that landowners had chipped in to build for irrigation purposes, back around the turn of the previous century when people did things like that. This was part of the Wintergarden that produced a good portion of the vegetables and melons consumed in Texas in the early- to mid-1900s. The multimillionaire family from San Antonio that bought up all those old farms let the dam wash out, so there was no dam, no lake, and no recreation. They didn't like people using boats, fishing, and swimming in "their river," so they eliminated the dam that made those things possible.

And people wonder why I resent the entitled rich.

Naturally, the corrupt county government took the payoffs and ran, offering only token resistance; the state was even more unconcerned, though the river was state property. It would be interesting to see what would happen if they did that now, with Cow County having different elected officials.

Not many knew it, but the landowners had titled the damsite and an acre on each side to the country, in return for maintenance. Wonder what would happen if the county got grants to restore the dam?

We got back to the hotel just before dark, after a hell of an emotional roller coaster ride of a day. To be honest, I was totally drained, and my fiancée had napped on my shoulder on the way back. It was quiet in the back seat too, but I could hear whispering over the radio I turned on for the trip back.

After I parked, but before I woke The Gorgeous One, River quietly said, "After the greeting you got when we first got here, at the reunion, and from your brothers, we couldn't understand why you were so reticent to return. Now we understand. You have a lot of fond memories here, but a slew of unhappy memories, and a difficult situation with your parents.

"If the family that ran this place like their fiefdom was still in charge, we're sure it would be intolerable. But now you have good friends here, you left a mark on the town and your high school, your brothers and their families are thriving, and you are successful in your chosen endeavor. Add in the amazing young woman under your arm, and there is nothing here that can hurt you.

"Do what you need to do tomorrow, enjoy the musicians and good company Wednesday night, and we'll head home Thursday. Your relationship with your hometown needs to marinade for a while, but one thing needs to be addressed before we leave: your brothers need to stand beside you when you get married. Do whatever you need to do to make that happen."

Bed Bunny was as drained as I was; we showered together, without hanky panky but with tenderness, and we slept the night through. The breakfast was good and the conversation better, which allowed me to head over to Will and Kathy's without as much turmoil as I expected.

We loaded two vehicles, left the darlings with their favorite daytime babysitter, and toured the assisted living facility offering advanced care. I was impressed, as were my brothers. River and Katrina asked questions as if they understood the care of elderly people with mental issues and got answers to questions we'd never have asked.

I gave them a deposit, and they offered me a nice discount if I paid for the year in advance, as I had hoped they would. Alex and Will were handling the medical exam and psychological evaluations they needed, and the girls came up with a strategy to entice our parents to give it a try.

As it turned out, the thought of free meals and living in a new house with new furniture was about all it took for Dad to agree to take a look. Mom was somewhere off in zombie land, so she just climbed into the vehicle and went with them.

The three Carr boys and River went through the house, and decided there wasn't much we should move, unless it had sentimental value to our parents. A few framed pictures, three albums of old pictures, and their medications were all that made the cut; we would buy them all new clothes and shoes as soon as we figured out their sizes. What they had was worn out and stinky.

Dehydrated and malnourished, the doctor said, but otherwise in decent medical condition. The results of the psychological evaluation weren't so positive, but the staff psychologist had a psychiatrist she just knew could make a difference with medication and therapy!

That was the first time I felt that someone at the facility was bullshitting me, but she seemed sincere. They had toured the facility, had a snack in the cafeteria, and spent time in their new living quarters. Mom didn't want to go home, and Dad wanted to eat before they went home. Unfortunately, their 'house' wouldn't be ready until tomorrow, so we took them out to eat, got a couple of meals boxed up for today and in the morning, and then took them home. As soon as we got her inside, Mother became morose, and Dad flopped in his chair, staring at the TV.

Huh. Maybe three meals, new clothing and shoes, medical and psychological treatment, and a new home really were going to work magic. And maybe the psychiatrist would determine that dad had mental issues that could be addressed, instead of just being a mean old bastard.

The girls headed for the mall and shopping centers in Laredo to buy clothing for both, and we went online at Alex's to see if we could sell some of the old graders and dump trucks he had parked around the place that still ran. The rest we could sell as scrap.

River used a few minutes to look at items in the gallery for the upcoming Ritchie Brothers Auction. We needed a variety of equipment as well as pickups for more new crews we would be putting to work soon, and he found a number to mark for bid. Alex and Will weren't familiar with online auctions, so River gave them a lesson.

The women rolled back in around 9 pm, with more and better clothing than our parents had ever had, as well as a few things they just had to have for themselves. The kids were fed and in bed, and we were sipping beer on Alex's deck, but we were tired, and they were tired, so we went back to the hotel and Will and Kathy went home.

Tuesday over coffee I called a few of my drafted groomsmen to see if anyone would mind moving to usher in favor of my brothers. The first two I called jumped at the chance but wanted to be sure they would be invited to the Batchelor Party and the Rehearsal Dinner. I promised they would be invited to the rehearsal dinner, but neglected to tell them there would be no Batchelor Party, even one as dull as the last.

As soon as I saw them, I asked my brothers to be groomsmen, and they accepted, assuming we could get them monkey suits, because they didn't have any. I promised we would and told them to send their sizes to us.

And then we went to get the parents. If they were distressed about leaving the family homestead for the last time, they didn't show it. When we got there, Mother went through her closet and dresser looking at her new clothes. She looked happy and was humming as they drew her a bubble bath and laid out a new set for her to wear.

Dad got a couple of snacks, looked at his clothes, and agreed to take a shower and change into a new set, although he bitched about having to do all that before he could eat lunch. Alex had told him he had to, and it worked. In some ways, our father had grown childlike; every bit of evidence proved this was something we had to do, regardless of cost.

Their parents were settled in by eleven, and the personable nurse and med tech responsible for their apartment were buzzing around helping familiarize them with the facility. Rosa, the nurse, told us it was almost time for lunch, so we could leave, and she and Clara would take good care of our parents.

After a confab on the parking lot, the Carr brothers and wives decided the visitors had to try Cista's, the best Tex-Mex in town, for lunch, so we headed there. There had been a lot of trepidation since the decision to move the parents was made, but it was gone now.

As River put it, "You had no choice, really, and I think it going to turn out to be the best thing that could have happened to both of them."

That solidified the general feeling, and lunch was not only delicious, it was a celebration! That every second person who came in stopped by to say hello made it feel even more satisfying, though one had nothing to do with the other. I left Cista's buoyed by the way the morning events played out, by the company of Alex and Brooke, Will and Kathy, and people I hadn't seen in ten years and didn't know well then, had stopped at the table to say hello and it's good to see you again.

Of course, any table with Katrina, Shannon, Kathy, and Brooke at it would get attention, wherever we were, but the mostly-men crowd was friendly to the males also.

Shannon whispered that she was familiar with some of the company logos on the shirts, but not others. I wasn't either, so we asked Alex. He explained that much of the early exploration was done by smaller drilling and production companies, before EOG and Chesapeake arrived, and they still had land leased.

Will added that EOG had never stopped drilling, trying longer and longer laterals in the dense shale. None of the laterals were three miles long, as in the Permian Basin, River said, but they were getting longer and more closely situated as the limits of the EFS were explored.

Alex laughingly pointed out that Chesapeake bought the mineral rights on the Carr family land, and were producing it quite efficiently, for 400 acres. Chesapeake didn't have the huge leases EOG and some of the early players, like Escondido, had, but they were creative. In some cases - like ours - they had drilled horseshoe shaped laterals with a mix of perforated and non-perforated pipe that drew laughter from the more conservative drilling companies, until they began producing like other shale wells.

River said Chesapeake was huge in the gas fields near El Paso, but their venture into drilling for gas AND oil was something new, and they had their 'wet wells' up for sale, having decided to go back to what they do best. There was, however, a decent chance they would explore the Buda formation that lies beneath the EFS because it was known to produce gas; the problem is, much of it is 'sour' gas (H2S, or hydrogen sulfate) because it can be deadly and the rules for production are more stringent.

For now, whatever gas is held in the Buda will remain in standby for another time, just as most of the US petroleum reserves are held. Refinery limitations prohibit greater production, and only one new refinery has been built in Texas, the state that produces most of the U. S. petroleum, even though demand has increased.

Sometimes I wonder why, but then I realize how much the 'oil companies' spend to explore, drill, produce, transport, refine, and offer gasoline and gas to customers, and accept that the need to make a fair profit. Price gouging around holidays and summer travel season have me shaking my head, and record profits quarter after quarter make me grit my teeth, but our company is prospering cleaning up their messes, and providing services that allow more efficient exploration, production, and transport.

Bitching about record profit when we're trying to do the same is hypocritical, but that's doing bidness in the oil patch.

Our lunchtime conversation resulted in Alex taking us for a ride out one of the roads with the greatest production, and we were impressed with the number of rigs working. With adequate pipelines and refineries available within 110 miles in Corpus Christi, and a few even closer, the higher cost of EFS production was somewhat offset by the proximity of refineries and tankers to transport refined gasoline and diesel to other US ports and overseas.

At 3:30 the wives called to inform us there was a swimming party at the hotel and we were needed as lifeguards, so we returned. It was late September, but the temperature was in the low 90s, so why not?

We had cannonball contests, splashing contests, and horsey fights, and I can't remember having more fun since I was a little kid.

Ken brought out trays of hot dogs, chips, salsa, and vege plates with dip for supper. When we were through, he lit a small fire in the pit and produced Graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows for dessert. Katrina said he was the finest host in history, and she was going to write that on Yelp, Trip Advisor, Google, and wherever else she could! We agreed and promised to do the same.

Ken was pleased on several levels, as he had built a little too late to profit from $300-$400 per night rooms during the boom, and he didn't have as many companies renting rooms as the nearby chain hotels did. They paid their hotels off by gouging during the boom, so they could afford to be cheap now.

He loved owning a hotel, and reviews were very helpful in attracting visitors and travelers. His rooms cost a little more, but the freebies and amenities made up for it, he claimed. We agreed.

The families returned home at dark, and River said he and Katrina were going to go watch TV, so we were free for the night. Shannon had changed from a one-piece swimsuit to another romper and strappy sandals, but she told me she needed to go get pretty if we were going somewhere.

I winked, told her she was already more gorgeous than the law allowed, and promised there wouldn't be any people where we were going. I meant it, but I can't control other people, can I?

She was already horny, so when I stopped atop Billy Goat and told her this was one of my favorite parking places, she wanted to pretend that we were high school sweethearts and I was trying to get in her panties. I love challenges, and she was quite the challenge. I used every trick I knew, beginning with kisses, open mouth kisses, kisses on the neck and ear, and on those graceful shoulders.

She controlled, repelled, deflected, and defended quite effectively, and I could see how she made it out of high school without much experience in sexual practices. Still, I knew a lot of ways to inflame, and slowly but surely those legs spread, and my hand worked its magic on her panties and pussy lips.

Had she worn jeans, a blouse, and bra she might have held out, but my ready access to those lovely legs and those perky titties, combined with her hot nature, resulted in the most stimulating sight I'd ever seen: naked Shannon with one leg on the dash and the other draped over the back of the seat, illuminated by the dash lights and the moonlight, begging me to eat and fuck her!

I took my time, feasting on those legs, her tits, and he mouth before doing as she begged. After fifteen minutes of that, she begged for me to stop and fuck her. I must have done a creditable job of that, based on her moans, whimpers, shrieks and screams, and the massive orgasms we achieved.

Fortunately, she had a container of wet wipes in the Denali that we used to clean ourselves and the seat, and she had body spray in her purse to reduce the odor.

It was a good thing she had all that handy, because we only got ten minutes of star gazing while lying on the hood before a small caravan of trucks and SUVs surrounded us. They brought beer, enthusiasm, a metal fire ring with wood, folding chairs, and a boom box. There were a lot of introductions, facilitated by Bobby Flores, and suddenly we were swept up in another "welcome home" party.

It was still near 80 degrees, but a fire is mandatory for drinking beer outside, at least in south and west Texas.

The big group had been there for about an hour, and the volume of noise of conversations had gone up, along with that of the boom box. Since they were on Billy Goat Hill and Theo hadn't actually listened to much BGH Pundits music, that became dominant, along with explanations and speculation about the meaning of the lyrics.

Because no one was paying attention to their surroundings, hardly anyone used the old road from town, the new road was 100 yards to the east, and the local cops never bothered parties on the hill, they were surprised when three sets of lights appeared and turned off the pavement onto the rocky surface of the hillside.

The first to disembark were Sierra and Tim. Just as greetings reached a crescendo, the second vehicle stopped, the doors opened, and Woody and his wife, a local Parker girl, got out. He was carrying a guitar, which evoked cheering. The third vehicle carried Lina, Lila, and Will, who all carried guitars, plus a few tambourines and harmonicas. The crowd went wild!

The "What the fuck?" questions were answered by Woody with a question. "Do you assholes know how loud you are? I'm sure people in town are shutting their windows hoping to lower the volume, and we live less than a mile from here! So, we decided it you can't shut them out so you can sleep, might as well join 'em! Besides, it's been a while since we had a hootenanny on Billy Goat, so we brought acoustic musical instruments. You're gonna have to shut down the boom box though!"

That wasn't that big a sacrifice given the alternative, so it was silenced, to the relief of neighbors - if there were any besides those who just arrived. The rules for hootenanny were simple; if they singer tapped his or her chest, they were signing; if they pointed at the crowd, everyone must sing.

It had been mostly the crowd singing old favorites so far, until Will tapped his chest, strummed, and said, "I just 'finished' this song, although it's subject to revision for weeks to come. The working title is 'Can Time and Beauty Tame the Beast,' but that's too long for a title, so who knows what the title will become?

"Anyway, give it a listen and provide some feedback after we finish."

Will's rough, Johnny Cash voice mixed with Lila and Lina's celestial highs and pure vocal emotions made for a startling contrast, but so did the lyrics, which were conflicting from verse to verse. Midway through, Shannon turned her gaze to me and whispered, "So I'm beauty and you're the beast?" "Mm hmm, I guess so."

The reference to 'the angry young man' in the last verse confirmed it for everyone, and the whooping, hollering, and pounding on Theo's back and shoulders reinforced their appreciation. Shannon was spared the physical assault, but endured petting, stroking, and caressing from females and males.