The 'Cousins'

Part Fifty-Five: The Plan Comes Off the Paper

Greg was amazed at this and stifled his laugh and comment about them having no reputation to lose. Fortunately for Greg, Tomas tugged at Ali’s sleeve and muttered sagely “ I theenk that’s ‘reputations’ you mean mi amigo.”

Ali snorted loudly. ‘Whatever.” Then turned to Greg again. “You’d best phone the bank to say you’re running late and tell us about the full process here so we can work out how best to lay it out.”

Greg looked confused. “ Are you saying the plan won’t work?”

 Tomas replied.

“S’right Mr. Meechell. On the plan is six containers against the end side wall.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“ ‘Cos you’re friend is using 225 gallon containers Mr. Meechell and no enough space if you want some gap between each one. I measure already.”

This threw Greg for a moment and he stood gaping at the men in silence. Ali broke in.

“225 gallon containers like what you’re using are the same size as metric 1000 litre tanks, that’s one cubic metre volume, or to put it another way 39 inches by 39inches by 39 inches. If you want a foot between ‘em to rig hoses or pipes you’ll need another five feet of space to get ‘em all in or you’ll have to settle for five containers.  If you tell us the process we can make suggestions.”

Greg looked at the plan and at the ground and finally understood. He nodded and said. “ You are absolutely right guys. I’d better make that call.”

Greg phoned the bank to say he would be a little late for his appointment and apologised to the receptionist. He put away the phone and faced the two men.

“Well the procedure starts by collecting waste oil from hereabouts every week in a trailer towed behind the truck and bringing it here. The trailer will be fitted with another one of these 225-gallon containers, a small air compressor and a couple of air driven barrel pumps with hoses. The trailer will park inside the stable so we need to keep the doorway clear.”

“You got the trailer?” Ali asked. Greg was encouraged when he saw Ali taking notes. 

“Not yet, it’s on my buy list. The oil will transfer from the trailer to a first settling tank at the far end of the line of containers. The oil will move down the line towards the drain during the process of conversion from waste oil to bio-diesel. There will be two settling tanks at first and they will need to be heated by an immersion heater to 50 degrees so as to settle out the water and cooking debris,”

“You need two of these first settling tanks?’ Ali might be grouchy, but he was sharp, which gave more confidence to Greg that he was the right man for the job.

“ Definitely two, maybe more, depends how much oil we collect and how long it takes to settle out.”

“How long will that take?” Ali did not look up from his notebook as he asked the question.

“Anything from half an hour to overnight to a week, depending on the quality of the oil and the temperature. That’s why the first two tanks are settling tanks with take-off points every 6 inches of height to run off the separated oil.”

Greg explained the process of collecting and converting the oil and the need to have the wet side on the end wall of the stable and the opposite wall a dry area to store the 55 gallon barrels of methanol, pallets of caustic soda, other chemicals and equipment. They would need a long bench in between, along the roadside wall, to be built over the old horse tether points and feed troughs to make a laboratory area for testing waste and cleaned oil.  Ali scribbled away in his notebook and interrupted to ask sensible questions. When Greg had finished he said. “ You’re gonna need your own pallet truck to move stuff around in here.”

“That too is on my ‘to buy’ list.” Ali closed his notebook and shoved it into his back pocket.

“We’ll see what we can do to improve the plan now we know how it’ll work. Tomas can work on that and I could pick up the pallet truck from Mr. Sprentz while you’re with the Bank … if you can get me onto the insurance like you said you would.”

“ No problems,’ Greg pulled his phone from his pocket and put through a call to the garage in Larksville and asked for Al Yocum.

“Al, Greg Mitchell … I’m fine thanks … I need to get another driver on the truck’s insurance .., Yeah he has a driver permit… let me put him on. I’ll call in and settle up with you for any extra charge? I’ll put Ali on … See you Al and thanks.”

Greg passed his phone to Ali with the keys to the truck.

“Give Al Yocum your details, hang on to my phone until I get back from the Bank and here are the keys to the truck.”

Ali took the items in both hands and looked gobsmacked from one to the other “ You gonna trust me with these?”

“Why not, if we’re working together we have to start trusting each other. Call this the first move towards mutual trust… my first move. I’m off to the bank, back soon.”

                                                     *  *  *

The workman leaned on the fire trailer glaring over at the end stable and the activity going on there. He stood for several minutes.

Watching.

Scowling.

Getting angry.

He saw Ali and Tomas moving around in there working up a plan of some sorts. His hand was squeezing the wash sponge so hard the veins in his arm were raised and pulsing.  He looked up at the Town Hall roof as the clock struck ten and spat tobacco juice stained spittle onto the cobbles of the courtyard. The job was done. He tossed the sponge into the back of the fire truck, kicked over the bucket of water to empty it and stood watching. He was finished here, but remained watching the end stable where Ali and Tomas were working ; becoming angrier with each moment, as his fears that the jobs promised to them seemed to be going to the ethnics instead. His fears became more solid when moments later Greg walked off and left them alone in the stable. Then they were confirmed when Ali climbed into the truck and drove away.

‘The buzzards! The lying cheating buzzards.” The man cursed through gritted teeth. He fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone and put through a call.

“ Guess where I am?” He asked the instant the call was answered and then said immediately  afterwards,  “Don’t guess ‘cos I’ll tell ya. I’m in the Town Hall yard and guess what Ahm a-watching. Don’t guess again ‘cos I’ll tell ya again. Ah'm watching that fancy dude setting up his oil plant in the old stables and he’s using them ethnics. The lying bastard’s using those cheapskate benefit cheats from Whitewater. I thought you said the mayor said he was giving us them jobs?’

‘You sure about what you’re seeing. You sure the ethnics are working with him?’ Dwight stood at Harry’s bar with his hand raised for silence and heard in his earpiece.

“Ahm as sure as I’m sure that Tuesday follows Monday. Why the big black fella just drove off’n by hisself in the truck like he owned it. We need to get this straitened out.” 

He hung up. Spat again on the ground in the direction of the end stable and walked into the Town Hall to find the mayor and ask him what’s going on at the oil plant and when could they expect to be hired?