Where There's Smoke

“Maybe. I hope.”

He removed a straw cowboy hat and ambled closer to her desk. His legs were slightly bowed. He was much shorter than Key, not even six feet would be her guess. He wasn’t muscle-bound but seemed tough, strong, and wiry. His clothes were clean and appeared new.

“I’m looking for work, ma’am. Wondered if y’all had any openings.”

“I’m sorry, we don’t at present, Mr…?”

“Cato, ma’am. Bowie Cato.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Cato. I’m Janellen Tackett. What kind of job are you looking for? If you’re new to Eden Pass, I might be able to refer you to another oil company.”

“Thank you kindly for offering, but it wouldn’t do any good. I’ve already asked around. Saved the best till last, you might say,” he added with a fleeting grin. “Seems nobody’s hiring.”

She smiled sympa

thetically. “I’m afraid that’s all too true, Mr. Cato. The economy in East Texas is tight, especially in the oil industry. Practically nobody’s drilling. Of course, a lot of existing wells are still producing.”

His woebegone brown eyes lit up. “Yes, ma’am, well that’s mostly what I did before—that is, I was a pumper. Maintained several wells for another outfit.”

“So you have experience? You know the business?”

“Oh yes, ma’am. Out in West Texas. Grew up in a pissant, uh, I mean a small town close to Odessa. Worked in the Permian Basin fields since I was twelve.” He paused, as though giving her an opportunity to change her mind after hearing his qualifications. When she said nothing, he bobbed his head in conclusion. “Well, much obliged to you anyway, ma’am.”

“Wait!” As soon as Janellen realized that she had reflexively extended a hand to him, she snatched it back and, flustered, clasped it with her other and held them against her waist.

He regarded her curiously. “Yes, ma’am?”

“As long as you’re here, you could fill out an application. If we have an opening anytime soon… I’m not expecting one, you understand, but it wouldn’t hurt to leave an application in our files.”

He thought it over for a moment. “No, I reckon it wouldn’t hurt.”

Janellen sat down behind her desk and motioned him into the chair facing it. In her bottom drawer, along with other business forms, she kept a few standard employment applications. She passed one to him. “Do you need a pen?”

“Please.”

“Would you like some coffee?”

“No, thanks.”

Picking up the pen she had given him, he lowered his head and proceeded to print his name on the top line of the application.

Janellen judged him to be about Key’s age, although his face was marked with more character lines, and there was a sprinkling of gray in his sideburns. His hair was brown. It bore the imprint of his hatband in a ring around his head.

Suddenly he looked up and caught her staring at him. Before thinking, she blurted, “W-would you care for a cup of coffee?” Then she remembered that she’d offered him one less than thirty seconds ago. “I’m sorry. I already asked you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, ma’am. I still don’t care for any. Thanks, though.” He bent back to the application.

Janellen fidgeted with a paper clip, wishing she had left on the radio after listening to the morning news, wishing there were some form of noise to fill the yawning silence, wishing she weren’t so miserably ill-equipped when it came to making small talk.

At last he completed the form and passed it and the ballpoint pen back to her. She scanned the top few lines and was astounded to find that he was much younger than Key, actually two years younger than herself. It had been a rough thirty-one years for him.

Her eyes moved down the form. “You’re currently employed at The Palm? The honky-tonk?”

“That’s right, ma’am.” He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders self-consciously. “I grant you, it’s not much of a job. Only temporary.”

“I didn’t mean to put it down,” she said hastily. “Somebody has to work in those places.” That came out sounding insulting, too. Her teeth closed over her lower lip. “My brother goes there all the time.”

“Yeah, he’s been pointed out to me. I don’t recall ever seeing you there.”