Whitewash (60 page)

Outside Tallahassee, Florida

Eric heaved another case of Pepsi products onto the hand truck. It was only their first delivery of the day and his formerly crisp uniform shirt stuck to his skin. His cap no longer held back the tiny rivulets racing down his face. He discarded the gloves almost immediately because his hands felt on fire. And according to his partner, he owed his employer for five bottles of Aquafina. He hadn’t thought to bring his own kegger-sized water jug like his experienced partner, a young guy named Bubba who had an amazing talent of keeping his pants up despite them being fastened clear down under his bulging waistline. He did, however, manage to keep his shirttail tucked and could probably outhoist anyone.

Eric had never known anyone who asked, no insisted, he be called Bubba even after Eric asked his real name.

“My daddy started calling me Bubba when I was two and a half. I can’t see changing it now,” he told Eric.

At first Bubba didn’t talk much. Immediately he slipped in a cassette of the Rolling Stones. He blasted the volume, joining in on certain words like
“can’t get no,”
but leaving
“satisfaction”
to Mick.

Eric quickly realized he didn’t need to worry about his young partner being suspicious of the sudden substitution. He seemed to like showing new guys the ropes, especially since his showing included letting them do the lion’s share of the work while he explained things. But he wasn’t a slacker, which he’d shown every once in a while by hoisting two crates at a time. After the first delivery Bubba asked Eric, “So did you work for that bottled-water company that went out of business?”

“No, but that was something else, wasn’t it?”

“I heard it was some crazy bastard at their bottling plant playing Russian roulette by putting stuff in only a few bottles.”

“Really?” Eric was always amazed at the stories people came up with, as if the truth wasn’t bad enough.

“A shame we couldn’t have something like that happen with Coke, huh?” Bubba let off a squawk of a laugh.

“Hey, they have their own problems,” Eric said. “It’s called Coca-Cola BlaK. What were they thinking with that? Soda drinkers drink soda ’cause they hate coffee.”

When Bubba didn’t respond, Eric glanced over, afraid he’d broken some industry code that didn’t allow slamming the other’s innovations.

Bubba was nodding and when he finally said something it was with genuine appreciation. “You’re absolutely right, dude.”

And this time when he went to punch in the Rolling Stones cassette he stopped. “You like the Stones? ’Cause I’ve got the Doobie Brothers and the Boss, too.”

“Stones are good for me,” Eric said, and for the first time he thought they might actually pull this off, if they didn’t get shot or arrested.

The Apalachicola River

Although she could barely see through the thick under-growth, from the river EchoEnergy’s industrial park reminded Sabrina of a deserted city, something out of the
The Twilight Zone
where only machines existed. With the sun just coming up through the trees, she could hear the first tankers arriving, their air brakes hissing, along with the grinding of gears and rumbling conveyor belts.

Sabrina knew there wasn’t a single person on the grounds. The few who were here at this time of day were where they needed to be, not venturing back out into the sultry morning.

Last year when Sabrina arrived at EchoEnergy, she learned quickly that all but the plant’s shift workers arrived before nine. Some stayed late, but no one came earlier than they had to. So they had an hour, tops, to get in and get out.

Howard maneuvered the boat expertly around logs and debris in the river and under branches overhanging the water. She watched his monster hands on the wheel and clutch, gentle, smooth touches that steered the boat to the right and then to the left with very little motion, which Sabrina was grateful for. Her stomach had settled a bit, but her nerves had taken over. Earlier on the road trip to Tallahassee, the men had eaten breakfast burritos and hash browns while she had forced down a cup of coffee. Now she could feel the acid churning in the empty pit of her stomach, sour and unforgiving.

Without having navigated the river before, Howard seemed to know how close they’d be able to get to the bank. The propellers scraped once, then she caught him wince when it happened a second time. Even Russ stopped plucking at the computer keys. She saw Howard shift something and the engine started to idle while he came to the back of the boat. Sabrina didn’t look to see what he was doing. She seemed to be fine as long as she didn’t look down at the water.

Howard was but a few minutes then she felt his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m going to get you as close as possible,” he said, and she offered him a weak smile.

As close as possible was still two or three feet from the bank. Howard helped her into Russ’s hip-high rubber waders that on Sabrina came up to her chest. At the same time Russ attached what looked like a miniature hearing aid over her right ear, gently, almost apprehensively moving her hair aside. She could feel the short microphone stem brush her cheek.

While Howard tightened the straps on the waders, Russ turned back to the laptop and electronic equipment he had set up in the small space next to the cockpit. A dozen lights flashed. He picked up one of the miniature hearing aids and put it on his ear, adjusting the short microphone stem. Then he turned his back to them and spoke softly. “Test, test one, test two, test three.”

Sabrina could hear him clearly in her ear and told him so.

“You try,” he said and Sabrina repeated the test.

He gave her a thumbs-up.

“Try not to get it wet, okay?”

She nodded, but felt a tingle of panic. Why did he think it might be possible that it would get wet? They had told her she’d be able to walk to the riverbank and not have to swim. She was an okay swimmer, but she had been in Florida long enough to know you didn’t swim in rivers unless you could see there were no water moccasins anywhere on the surface.

“Keep these on,” Howard told her as if he could read her panic. “At least until you get out of the tall grass. Snakes can’t bite through this rubber.”

“Great,” she said. “And here I was only worried about security guards with guns.”

She meant it as a joke. Howard didn’t laugh. Neither did Russ. Instead, Russ pointed to a map he had of EchoEnergy’s park.

“You get in trouble, any trouble at all, you tell us exactly where you are and we’ll come get you.”

She knew he meant it, so she didn’t bother to remind him they wouldn’t be able to get in without key card access.

They helped her down into the dark water. The sun had risen only enough to seep through the trees and create shadows. The water sloshed almost to the top of the waders. She had to keep her arms high, taking small steps, each one sinking just a little deeper.

“Careful,” she heard Russ whisper in her ear.

“To your right,” Howard instructed, his voice calm and reassuring. “Keep to the right, Sabrina.”

At the moment all she could think about was how ungodly hot the rubber waders were. She wiped sweat off her forehead and pushed her hair back behind the earpiece remembering not to get it wet. Strands of her bangs stuck to her face.

“More to the right,” Howard insisted.

Sabrina reached the bank and found several dead tree stumps and large roots. They were sturdy enough to help her secure her balance. She lifted herself up, the rubber waders like lead weights, sucking and pulling against her steps. She made it up onto the bank and let out a sigh of relief. That’s when she heard something drop into the water. It was to her left where she had just been. Although daylight hadn’t set in, Sabrina could see well enough to make out the snake riding the surface of the water. It crossed exactly where she had walked just seconds before, under a low, overhanging tree branch. Her stomach took a roller-coaster plunge and sent a chill down her back despite the saunalike waders.

“You did good,” Howard called to her with that same calm that had guided her away from a snake hanging a foot or two above her.

Suddenly she wished she was back on the boat.

The Apalachicola River

Although she could barely see through the thick under-growth, from the river EchoEnergy’s industrial park reminded Sabrina of a deserted city, something out of the
The Twilight Zone
where only machines existed. With the sun just coming up through the trees, she could hear the first tankers arriving, their air brakes hissing, along with the grinding of gears and rumbling conveyor belts.

Sabrina knew there wasn’t a single person on the grounds. The few who were here at this time of day were where they needed to be, not venturing back out into the sultry morning.

Last year when Sabrina arrived at EchoEnergy, she learned quickly that all but the plant’s shift workers arrived before nine. Some stayed late, but no one came earlier than they had to. So they had an hour, tops, to get in and get out.

Howard maneuvered the boat expertly around logs and debris in the river and under branches overhanging the water. She watched his monster hands on the wheel and clutch, gentle, smooth touches that steered the boat to the right and then to the left with very little motion, which Sabrina was grateful for. Her stomach had settled a bit, but her nerves had taken over. Earlier on the road trip to Tallahassee, the men had eaten breakfast burritos and hash browns while she had forced down a cup of coffee. Now she could feel the acid churning in the empty pit of her stomach, sour and unforgiving.

Without having navigated the river before, Howard seemed to know how close they’d be able to get to the bank. The propellers scraped once, then she caught him wince when it happened a second time. Even Russ stopped plucking at the computer keys. She saw Howard shift something and the engine started to idle while he came to the back of the boat. Sabrina didn’t look to see what he was doing. She seemed to be fine as long as she didn’t look down at the water.

Howard was but a few minutes then she felt his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m going to get you as close as possible,” he said, and she offered him a weak smile.

As close as possible was still two or three feet from the bank. Howard helped her into Russ’s hip-high rubber waders that on Sabrina came up to her chest. At the same time Russ attached what looked like a miniature hearing aid over her right ear, gently, almost apprehensively moving her hair aside. She could feel the short microphone stem brush her cheek.

While Howard tightened the straps on the waders, Russ turned back to the laptop and electronic equipment he had set up in the small space next to the cockpit. A dozen lights flashed. He picked up one of the miniature hearing aids and put it on his ear, adjusting the short microphone stem. Then he turned his back to them and spoke softly. “Test, test one, test two, test three.”

Sabrina could hear him clearly in her ear and told him so.

“You try,” he said and Sabrina repeated the test.

He gave her a thumbs-up.

“Try not to get it wet, okay?”

She nodded, but felt a tingle of panic. Why did he think it might be possible that it would get wet? They had told her she’d be able to walk to the riverbank and not have to swim. She was an okay swimmer, but she had been in Florida long enough to know you didn’t swim in rivers unless you could see there were no water moccasins anywhere on the surface.

“Keep these on,” Howard told her as if he could read her panic. “At least until you get out of the tall grass. Snakes can’t bite through this rubber.”

“Great,” she said. “And here I was only worried about security guards with guns.”

She meant it as a joke. Howard didn’t laugh. Neither did Russ. Instead, Russ pointed to a map he had of EchoEnergy’s park.

“You get in trouble, any trouble at all, you tell us exactly where you are and we’ll come get you.”

She knew he meant it, so she didn’t bother to remind him they wouldn’t be able to get in without key card access.

They helped her down into the dark water. The sun had risen only enough to seep through the trees and create shadows. The water sloshed almost to the top of the waders. She had to keep her arms high, taking small steps, each one sinking just a little deeper.

“Careful,” she heard Russ whisper in her ear.

“To your right,” Howard instructed, his voice calm and reassuring. “Keep to the right, Sabrina.”

At the moment all she could think about was how ungodly hot the rubber waders were. She wiped sweat off her forehead and pushed her hair back behind the earpiece remembering not to get it wet. Strands of her bangs stuck to her face.

“More to the right,” Howard insisted.

Sabrina reached the bank and found several dead tree stumps and large roots. They were sturdy enough to help her secure her balance. She lifted herself up, the rubber waders like lead weights, sucking and pulling against her steps. She made it up onto the bank and let out a sigh of relief. That’s when she heard something drop into the water. It was to her left where she had just been. Although daylight hadn’t set in, Sabrina could see well enough to make out the snake riding the surface of the water. It crossed exactly where she had walked just seconds before, under a low, overhanging tree branch. Her stomach took a roller-coaster plunge and sent a chill down her back despite the saunalike waders.

“You did good,” Howard called to her with that same calm that had guided her away from a snake hanging a foot or two above her.

Suddenly she wished she was back on the boat.