The Drip, a novel by Michael Gullo
“Hey Bill.”
“Hey Stef.”
“Noon, Bill? Gets dark at 4:30, this guy gets here at noon.”
“I had Peanut. She’s prettier than you.”
“I’ll let you two work this out. I have to put the tree away and call Fifi to come bring it down to the basement.”
“How is the feefster, Stef? He cut my hair before Christmas, but he didn’t say he was helping you.”
“That’s because he doesn’t know yet. Guilt trip on the tradition of the thing. Pile on Michael’s bleb and the Amazon box Mr. Shop-With-Care bought for him, and I got him wrapped up.”
“Did you get me anything, buddy?”
“I got you an Amazon box of your own, Bill.”
“I’m outa here, Love.”
“Love you.”
“Aw, so sweet.”
“Shut up, Bill.”
“Oh, the hostility made it. I was worried you wouldn’t have time to get that installed before I got here.”
“Bill, this is Tanner.”
“Hey, Bill. Nice to meet you.”
“Is this the Dan two point oh?”
“Dan called actually…”
“He called for Christmas?”
“No, Bill. You’re going to fit in just fine around here.”
“Interruptions are the key, Bill. Slippers over here gets frazzled on an interruption.”
“That was an assumption, Bill’s own special ingredient. He shit-stirs that stuff on everything. Slippers? I got a name?”
“So, you’ve got three already.”
“How about that Amazon box? Do I get it now?”
“Right now, Bill. It’s in my truck.”
“Oh boy!”
“Tanner, you guys got this?”
“Yup, panels measured, frame square. Panels in the box when you get back.”
“Confidence matched by faith. Be back in forty-five minutes.”
“Oh boy, that’s a big job.”
“One bite at a time, buddy.”
“One cigarette at a time, you mean.”
“I drive. I smoke.”
“Yeah, it’s a joy. You should drive less.”
“Cigarette bothering you, Bill?”
“Not just me. Your lungs. It’s going to kill you. Don’t you regret it?”
“I promise you I was gonna die anyway. I definitely won’t do it regretting every thirty minutes of my life.”
“The hell?”
“Think it through, Bill. I smoked forty-two years. I smoked thirty cigarettes a day. That’s one every thirty minutes. Every thirty minutes of my life I stepped aside for five minutes of peace. That’s two and a half hours of peaceful reflection every day of my life. That’s thousands of people met in a two square-foot huddle chatting with a perfect stranger that you had to walk past. At most you shared a nod. When you walked by, you missed out. You missed that fellowship, that news, that idea. Most important, you missed humanity at rest. We froze together. We shared umbrellas. We contorted ourselves to the sliver of shade. And most of all we found common ground. Did you ever see a hockey game break out in a smoking huddle? We talked about our lives, the Giants, our moment before the banishment. I met bankers and lawyers, and homeless people. I met every walk of life in those klatches, and the one thing I don’t think I ever met was regret. I solved a thousand problems in those moments. I stepped from under the shadow of the obstacle, and having stood apart from it, gained an entirely new point of view and solved it, mid puff. I made stock trades in those breaks. I met chicks. I lived a whole life in those moments that you see as killing me. Smoking met me more mankind than any other thing on earth, and I traveled the globe, Bill. And I’ll take it a step further. I dare you to find a final pathology that could ever come close to giving so much for the exchange. In fact, I would suggest every man, woman, and child on earth do the same. If you can’t smoke, blow bubbles. I don’t care what you do, just stop for a few minutes every thirty minutes of your life and step out of the crucible. No, Bill, I don’t regret it. I thank God for it.”
“Got any bubbles?”
“Nope. Tough to bum too. At least until you get it started.”
“So, you’re building a new house from the same cloud of smoke and three new guys.”
“Yup.”
“Well, they look --– consistent.”
“Consistent. Took your time with it too. They’re good guys for the most part.”
“But can they build a – house?”
“Anyone can do anything if they team up, if they learn together and teach together and compete together and think together with the same goal in mind.”
“Can’t pick a football team’s got no athletes.”
“Okay, not the literal sense, but in the broad sense. If a human person wants a thing, they self-select.”
“A human person –”
“Yeah, Bill. A human person, unlike yourself an asshole person sees a point of friction and rather than help sand out the high spot, out comes the match he’s been saving in his pocket for just this occasion.”
“So, you’re building the new place with…”
“Don’t diss my kids, Bill.”
“I’ll leave that to you, coach.”
“This is who’s out there, Bill.”
“Oh, I know. I been trying to hire, but I can’t find anybody I can afford.”
“Same story, ten years later. You hire them so that you can afford them.”
“Not that easy.”
“The math is that easy. You save for it. An employee costs two-thousand hours a year plus expenses. Pick an hourly rate, add fifty percent and save enough to buy someone.”
“Wow, buy someone.”
“It’s ugly, but it’s true. Employees are product. You sell them to your clients like any other camera.”
“It’s not that easy to find someone.”
“It is. Post where your type of employee searches for jobs. The world that works finds jobs where the world posts jobs or through friends that found jobs where the world posts jobs.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is for you. It’s my job that’s hard to hire for. Jobs like this don’t get posted in those places, so my draw is informal Facebook leftovers and their friends.”
“Tanner looks good. Rusty’s a pleaser. I couldn’t see the guy in the skidsteer, but he looked familiar.”
“I bet he did. A dozen in every line up here.”
“So, where the hell we going?”
“Well, we need internet, or we can’t have cameras that tell me when someone is there, and I can’t exactly put in a DVR with fiber optic just yet and the full Hardin Valley system. I need all the same things without all the infrastructure.”
“Oh boy! Ring. This’ll be an easy day.”
“You wish. Cat’s Ass Holler is big on the beauty and heavy on the rejection.”
“The hell?”
“I’ve been up here every day, sun up to sun down…”
“And all you got in a month is that little road and a shed?”
“There’s my pal, Bill. Show him the pain and he don’t break out the ice. He pokes the blue spot.”
“A good shit stir is its own poultice.”
“Buddy, you’re anything but holler healthcare.”
“So, have you met the locals?”
“So, he says. No thick-stew shit-stir there.”
“I’m just askin’.”
“Just askin’, he says. Bill, you just left the place. Did you see any locals?”
“Yeah, they got your number too.”
“Think?”
“Yeah, Slippers, I think.”
“Get out. Just get out of my car. Go in the store. Be nice to the man. He doesn’t look like he’s seen another human closer than the Starbucks door all day.”
“He does look a little lonely in there. I bet he’ll wish he locked the door when he gets you.”
“Where’s Tanner when I need him.”
“Tanner’s at the Drip and smart enough not to call it Cat’s Ass Holler.”
“Here’s my wallet, get the guy started. We don’t have much time.”
“Hey, do you want the umlimited plan?”
“I heard that, Bill.”
“Wasn’t sure you could hear me yet, so I laid it on a little thick.”
“It was just right, buddy. Is that the router?”
“Got enough RJ45s for you?”
“It’s the most they got. One.”
“In stock, or worldwide?”
“Hi, I’m Lamont.”
“Michael.”
“That’s the best you’re going to do in that zone. It’s 4G only up there.”
“I get 5G on my phone a lot.”
“A lot. We can’t sell the 5G plans in that area because coverage is spotty.”
“Will 4G support Ring?”
“Absolutely.”
“Wrap it up.”
“Hey, Tanner. Jumped right ahead I see.”
“There was time to spare. You were gone longer than forty-five minutes.”
“Yeah, we had to get it done, the girls get out at 2:30.”
“Okay, Rus. And you pick them up?”
“Yeah, just the little one now, all of them out of school on break, but the little one’s in daycare, so she had school.”
“Schedule that in, Tanner, okay?”
“Already did while I was waiting for you. Glad you thought of it though.”
“Normally, you pick up all three?”
“I do, yeah. She’s down there now.”
“Down – there - ?”
“Yeah, she won’t bother nothin’. Juss wait fer me get out and we go home.”
“Oh boy, I used to have to do that with Peanut.”
“You named your daughter Peanut?”
“Placey, but she’s Peanut to me.”
“Yeah, I know a guy calls his little girl Peanut. We used to be neighbors, ’n when I first moved in, I thought he was crazy because he’d be outside calling, Peanut, Peanut, and I ain’t never heard nobody called Peanut. I know George Costanza was trying to name his kid, Seven…”
“Gahhllee, he got you. You ain’t can let Rusty get rolling a story. They don’t got no end.”
“Fuck you, Cody.”
“I heard him going as I’m in the skid, and I know I gotta come save yu’ns.”
“You’re Cody. I’m Bill.”
“Heya, Bill. We were talkin’ about you all last week. Crack the whip get this place ready, his friend can visit.”
“Thanks, Bill.”
“You’re welcome, Tanner. In Michael’s defense, the shed does have to be waterproof for the equipment.”
“Friend visit.”
“Cute, Cody. Now – did you leave the skid running before you came up?”
“Yes. Are we done with it?”
“You did a good job on the snow. If I did it, there would be gravel in all the snow piles, and bare spots in the driveway.”
“That’s why we keep homeowners out the machines.”
“Good luck with that. Job’s got a machine and a shovel in it, you be sure I get seat time, and you win blisters.”
“Yeah, Cody’s already got blisters – on his diiick.”
“Fuck you, Rusty…”
“Wait. Did we just de-evolve? I felt something there. Bill, you feel it?”
“I’m just saying, I’m here to work. And get my Amazon.”
“Okay, Cody go get that machine greased and mucked out. Rusty help Tanner for five minutes. Tanner I noticed the panels are not in the same orientation. Snatch those two out quick and put them with the nameplate stickers down toward the ground. Bill open up the tailgate.”
“Amazon time!”
“There is little buddy. Just go ahead and open her up.”
“It’s big. What did you get me?”
“Go on.”
“--- Ring- cameras?”
“Look close. I got the solar panel attachments too, buddy.”
“But. You got Fifi a gift.”
“I didn’t get Fifi anything. Stefanie got herself a gift when she set you up with the same witch’s cauldron of boil and brew that you stir every time you mess with her.”
“Ouch.”
“That’s right. I told you she’s got fangs. And you can bet your ass I’ll be reporting that look on your face when I get home and she wants a whole replay of the punchline. Stand still. I gotta get a pic for the file.”
“Yeah, that’s stone cold.”
“Not all stone. Your gift is behind the passenger seat, buddy. Stef-wrapped and everything.”
“Is it at least Amazon?”
“It’s ten cameras, Bill. That’s the prize here. Five planned for today, three are must-have. I put a ribbon on the tree down at the property line where it meets the road. Look for the neighbor’s survey stake. It’s right there. I used his ribbon to mark the tree, ribbon’s tied right where I want it, and the knot’s pointed where I want it pointed.”
“Down there?”
“Yes, Bill. It’s paint by numbers. That’s number one. Number two is on the shed over the door. Logic says where that points. Third is right here behind these panels. On this tree. Rusty’s on your team. Me and Tanner rush get the solar in.”
“Rush, he says. Two hour lunch.”
“Sheesh, bossman, none of this happens we don’t have internet. I hope I didn’t hold you up.”
“Yup, Dan two point oh.”
“No, Dan would know better set a sword in the ground, challenge me to bicker.”
“Nope, not bicker, just get off break.”
“I must have forgot I punched in. Sorry. So you got the panels flipped. Get the white box in the shed.”
“The Disconnect?”
“- yeah, that. Double time.”
“I opened a can of shit here, didn’t I?”
“Nah, just a double-time demo in case you forget your place again.”
“Ouch.”
“Shut up, Bill. I told you the property line cam is first, not that one.”
“I just thought, since I’m here already.”
“You think, I suffer.”
“You suffer, that’s how it looks (from here).”
“It’s all point of view, buddy. Seriously though. That one down there is the early warning. This one is more like a critter cam. The one on the shed is defcon 5. In that order. I’ll beg if you need it.”
“Early warning, launch silo, critter cam. You got it, bossman.”
“No way I survive this. No way.”
“Okay, Tanner. These are DC power, and DC relies on stable polarity so the power can travel between positive and negative. Ordinarily they would ground to earth through buried metal frames.”
“So, you’re not grounding these?”
“Not traditionally. For today, we install and hope for the best.”
“Yeah, are you shitting me?”
“No, Rusty, I’m not. In fact, I almost dare these to build up a charge in the frame and play cattle fence for the damned fool tries to steal them off the worksite.”
“Are you serious?”
“Ha! I guess we’ll never know, but this is a series connection, which multiplies voltage. Four panels, 200 volts. Try it out and let me know if it gets you tomorrow when the sun hits.”
“Are you serious? You’re creating a cattle fence on your solar panels?”
“Okay, okay. You told me you know AC power pretty good, so I ran a little test. You get the basics. Now let me explain it. Each of these is two solar panels, and each will have its own Disconnect. They will arrive at the end of this two hundred and thirty-five foot direct bore that Chris pushed for us so that he didn’t have to go home empty handed. They will land on the shed in a metal box before they run into the hybrid inverter which will share a ground with that combiner box. The AC load center will of course be grounded traditionally.”
“Um, so, I see what you’re doing there.”
“Yeah, watch this then --- Whoa, Rusty you gotta be careful there. Once we connect these that’s two-hundred volts potential, like a two-forty dryer plug. Best practice is never to grab in electricity. You touch with the back of your hand. Gripping that frame to catch your breath is not exactly safe.”
“Ok, so, it’s three PM. We have an hour and a half left.”
“Yes, Tanner. Pressed for time. Connect the panels, negative to positive and when you’re done you will have two wires – surprise, negative and positive. Screw those disconnect boxes to the frame and wire it negative cable to negative terminal, and positive next. Rusty and me will go to the shed and unbox the inverter and the load center.”
“No problem.”
“Um, so that’s done.”
“Good work, Tanner. Three eighteen, that’s fine. Go to the back of my truck. Get the two spools of two-hundred-fifty foot wire, tape the ends to the pull rope, put the spools on a stick, get Cody to pull the rope on this end, and we have wire from the arrays – if we can call them that – to the shed.”
“Got it.”
“Meanwhile, me and Rusty got this inverter unboxed and hung on the cleat. This dude’s a beast! I’ll screw the load center to the studs while he unboxes the batteries and stacks them. Once you two get the wire pulled through, wire nut this end and keep them off the snow. Go back to the disconnects, connect the new wire at the bottom lugs, and come back here. On your way back, there’s a slap of trailer service wire wadded up in the Hummer. Bring that with you.”
“Will do.”
“Million years, nothing but wildlife and passers through campfires, and we’re installing electricity at the speed of light.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You know, up north that word combo expresses extreme doubt. Down here, it’s deep agreement. Do the toilets flush backwards too?”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just go ahead and keep unboxing those. Set them on top of each other in a stack when you’re done.”
“Got power yet?”
“No, Bill, but the wire’s pulled through, Tanner is making the connections at the disconnects, and me and Rusty have the gear unboxed.”
“Got the inverter hung on the wall too.”
“Lieutenant Obvious.”
“It’s Captain.”
“Nope, and you’re lucky I didn’t demote you all the way down to enlisted obvious. Talking just to interrupt.”
“All business, I see.”
“All busy, Bill. It’s 3:35, and we have an hour to build a battery bank, land the wires, install an outlet from the load center and install the router. I can’t wait until next Wednesday for you to be available again.”
“I can do tomorrow afternoon actually. I have to install some cameras for my cousin down at the Community Center, and I can come up after that for a few hours.”
“Your cousin owns the community center?”
“No, she’s on the school board. The school district owns the community center.”
“Gahhllee, I know Emma.”
“Cody, where’d you come from?”
“I pulled the warr, and I been standin out here you ain’t give me no instructions.”
“I didn’t know you were there.”
“I’m a sneaky some-bitch.”
“Bill, get that camera above the door so we can have at least two running tonight.”
“I’ll need Cody again.”
“Again?”
“Yeah, I had him lift me up in the skidsteer bucket so I could get the property line camera up high enough.”
“No bucket rides, but bucket lifts, I didn’t say that, so not a rule break. Rusty, go to the truck get me the blue tote. It has the busbars and the cables for these batteries. We go live in twenty if all goes right.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Cody, me thinking general rules get cliché, I make specific rules. So, I’m letting the bucket lift go because I said, no rides. I did not say no lifts. So I’m going with the cliché instead this time. No unsafe shit unless it’s me doing or at least directly supervising the unsafe shit, not because of rules for me and rules for thee, but responsibility for me, and I get to choose when my responsibility takes the chances.”
“It’s not your responsibility. It’s Tanner’s name.”
“Buddy, you’re right, but you’re all the way wrong. I’ve been sued a hundred times for stuff I never did. I own the land, and the tenant or the worker or the customer is doing what they do, but I’m one of the pockets. I’m the only hard pocket. The land is payment. The responsibility is always mine. I’m the ground wire, Cody. And I choose when I carry the load. And Bill, we work together twelve years now, and friends the whole time, you know I don’t like liability of someone else’s choice.”
“Okay, so – may I borrow Cody to lift me up in the bucket so I can reach above the door?”
“I’ll supervise.”
“Dick.”
“So, it’s all hooked up. Wanna come check it?”
“Nope. The box has positive and negative symbols, you have enough brain cells to race me to work, and this load center needs wired. I’ll connect the busbars.”
“And me?”
“Rusty, when was the last time you checked in on the baby?”
“I’ll run down there, now.”
“Tanner, you see I already have the knockout. Grab a wire clip and thread that slap through. Cut that longer bit of wire off to bond the neutral.”
“Isn’t this a sub panel, though?”
“Well, yeah, but that’s later. Right now it’s the main.”
“Nobody ever tole me that whole rule. Like, isn’t the neutral bonded by the steel case that both the ground and the neutral are screwed to directly?”
“Fast version. Sort of. But the wire between the bottom lugs are a less resistance path than the painted steel would be. That least resistance ensures a wire on metal trips the breaker when it arcs. Plus, it forces the system and the earth rod to the same voltage reference, which helps in nearby lightning strikes.”
“Tanner, when I taught this guy twelve years ago, he couldn’t wire a light switch, and now look at him.”
“Taught. Wow. That’s one way to look at coming up at the same time fixing that nightmare system Aries installed.”
“Serious, Tanner, the solar installers left him with a house of flickering lights, burned out well pumps, HVAC units. You can mess up your whole world if you do this wrong.”
“So, pay attention, got it. Thanks, Bill.”
“Okay, so we don’t have time to excavate, drill, conduit, connect this. We’re running the wire in the front door and hot landing it right here on these lugs.”
“Holy smokes! Are you serious?”
“Yeah, Bill I’m serious. The sun is just about gone. We have ambient light. The panels are probably running ten percent of nameplate. That’s like one-hundred-and-sixty Watts. That’s not enough to cook an egg. We lick it and stick it. I want green lights on parts in five.”
“Panel’s done.”
“Get that breaker, the Romex, outlet, work box cut off out of the tub and rig me up. I’ll land the load center on this end.”
“You don’t have the ground rod installed yet.”
“Yeah, it’s first order tomorrow morning. Tonight we need a router. Panels don’t produce juice at night. We’re running off the batteries anyway.”
“Um, it’s your liability.”
“Ha! He got you there, bossman.”
“Stop calling me that, Bill.”
“Okay, Slippers.”
“God help me. So, Tanner look in here, you see the lugs, clear markings, Line 1, Line 2, Common and Earth. I’ll hook these up. No bond required. Interesting though…. If you didn’t have load center hooked up, and you were just trying to charge batteries or something with the panels, you would need that neutral bond here.”
“Got it. So what was all that with Rusty and the cattle fence. The risk is only if there’s a short in the wire, isn’t it?”
“Sort of.”
“You say, sort of, a lot.”
“Sort of. The world is just like that. It’s a sort of kind of place.”
“Voltage, deadly. Sort of. Got it.”
“Priority danger in that array as it stands is not its potential to shock, but its portability. My instinct said I should short the one and ground the other.”
“I figured.”
“Yeah, good shill work there. Thanks.”
“Pleasure’s all mine.”
“There’s the battery lugs torqued. Plug in the solar wires here and here, positive is positive and you can guess the negative one.”
“Lick it and stick it. Check.”
“I wouldn’t lick those, buddy. Light’s fading, but there’s a lot more than a nine volt battery joke in those. Bill, you got those two screws in that camera yet?”
“Just peeling the QR sticker off.”
“Get down and get Cody out of the machine and let’s light this puppy.”
“Yeah, hey, I gotta go – here in a minute. I got her a snack after school, but she’s hungry.”
“Oh boy, probably bored too.”
“Little bit.”
“Okay, kids it’s 4:20 – don’t say it, Rusty. Here goes --- battery green lights --- system on. It’s gotta normalize. When the fans kick in, we’re on --- Green lights, DC input --- and, there it is. Tanner, we flip up this AC breaker, and that plug is hot. Bill plug in the router --- There it is. For the first time ever, the holler has power!”