Part 16 (2/2)
”We'll use your winnings to buy the baby a gift,” Raphael suggested as he tossed several chips into the middle of the table.
”Somehow, I think I might lose,” I said. ”So. No. My money goes with me.”
”Chicken,” Tom said.
”Cluck, cluck,” I said. ”Bet.”
There was comfort in knowing that once a month, no matter what was going on in my life, I could jump out of the day and sit down with friends for cards, beer, c.r.a.ppy food, and friendly hara.s.sment. It was like I'd never left college and we'd never grown up.
”I heard your dad talking about an offer he got from the drilling business,” Paul said, tossing several of his chips into the pile.
I nodded. ”Yeah.”
”He gonna take it?”
”I don't think so.”
Tom raised an eyebrow. ”No?”
I shook my head.
”I heard the money's good,” he said.
”It is,” I said. ”But I don't think he wants them digging.”
”Couldn't pay me enough,” Brandon said, shaking his head and tossing his cards on the table. ”It isn't safe.”
Mark tossed his chips in. ”Money is always safe.”
”Not the money. The fracking.”
Jeff made a face. ”Oh, please. You're a hippy tree-hugger. It's perfectly safe.”
”Tell me that after you have a three-headed baby,” Brandon said, folding his arms across his chest.
”He's already been neutered,” Tom said. ”No chance of any-headed babies.”
”I heard the remnants go right into the water tables,” Raphael said, laying his cards down and folding. ”Chemicals. Dirty water. Rock fragments.”
Paul scowled. ”Please. The process has been around forever and it's only gotten safer. It's safer than drilling for oil.”
”How do you know?” Tom asked.
Paul's cheeks colored slightly.
I started laughing. ”How much are they paying you?”
A number of catcalls and howls went up at the table.
”So, maybe I'm a little defensive,” Paul said, chuckling. ”But they are making it worth my while. That's all I'm gonna say.”
Mark started laughing. ”Me, too.”
”You, too?” I asked.
He nodded. ”I hate yard work anyway and with them digging in the backyard, I won't have to do squat for a while.”
That discussion was a perfect representation of our group. We all had different political views. All had different views on education. On money. But none of us took any of it seriously enough to take offense. We could all disagree on different things.
As long as we were allowed to mock those we didn't agree with.
”So what exactly do they do?” Raphael asked. ”Is it like in that movie with Bruce Willis where they take a ma.s.sive drill to the moon?”
”Hardly,” Paul said. ”The way I understand it is they bring in some sort of drill and go down into the shale with some pressurized fluid. After it's located, they fire some water down into the shale to break it up, forcing the gas out, and they capture the gas and-boom! Gas prices go down.”
”Yeah. Just like that,” Brandon said, shaking his head.
”You know what I'm saying,” Paul said. ”They capture the gas and then do whatever it is they do with it. I'm not smart enough to understand that part.”
”That part is fine,” Brandon said. ”It's what they do during and after. The gas can leak. The water tables can become contaminated. There's all sorts of bad c.r.a.p that can happen.”
Mark held up a finger. ”Might happen. Not will happen.”
”But they can't promise it won't,” Brandon argued. ”And the problem is, you don't know until well after the fact if it's happened. When the three-headed babies start popping up.”
”But I'll be dead by then,” Paul said, shrugging. ”And I'll just tell my kids to go live somewhere else.”
We all laughed at that, but I thought the discussion demonstrated the varied opinions on the subject and probably represented what was going on all over town. People were having to weigh the risks versus cas.h.i.+ng a fat check. Given Julianne's staunch stance against it, there wasn't going to be a decision for me to make. But others were probably going to have to give some pretty good thought as to which way they wanted to go.
An hour later, I was down twenty bucks and two beers in.
”I wanna hear more about the dead body,” Jeff said, munching on a jalapeno stuffed with cheddar. ”What the h.e.l.l exactly happened to that Spellman guy?”
”Wish I knew,” I said. ”But I really don't.”
”I heard he and that Biggs woman were sleeping together,” Mark said.
”Mama?” Paul asked, appalled at the idea.
”No, no,” Mark said. ”That daughter.” He looked at me. ”That right?”
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