Play@YSDC

Friday March 13th, 1931 12.15pm
Coast Road, Johnson Bayou, Cameron Parish, Louisiana

Heading west, it was a good walk out to the oil field, especially as the temperature was starting to rise. The road took them out along the coast, just inland from the beach. They saw no one else as they walked until they got close to the oil derricks that turned rhythmically off to their right. They turned at different speeds and were hypnotic to watch as the cycles aligned and then broke again.

A tall wire fence ran along the road, with signs declaring that the site was managed by the Vacuum Oil Company, and that trespassers would be prosecuted.



As they walked further along the fence, they could hear voices raised in argument.

Alex finds the quiet comfortable, and is happy to enjoy the scenery as well as the company.

But eventually the mission intrudes, and he speaks. "I suppose we should come up with an reason we wish to speak with the oilmen. I'm not sure they would take the time to entertain a few tourists from out of town. And I'm afraid I don't have enough knowledge on the industry to pretend to be a part of it."

As they start to hear the voices he attempts to make out as much as he can of what they're saying.

1d100

“I suppose pretending to be lost would be somewhat weak,” Ivy opines, shortly before she hears the raised voices.

[32] = 32
Listen 57 1d100: [ 32 ] = 32

“Do you hear that?” Ivy whispers.

“Someone - a local man I think - is complaining about the pollution caused by the oil operation to another fellow. He’s from Pennsylvania if I’m not mistaken.”

“This could be our ‘angle’ - we are journalists who have come to report on this.”

She fishes out her notebook from her handbag.

"Good idea," Alex says, standing up straight. "We should probably introduce ourselves. I'm not very good at stealthing about.I think we should try and find a way to talk to the foreman and dig for information or a tour to 'write' our article. Along the way we can also keep an eye out for any snake art."

“Agreed. We could hint that how sympathetic our article will be depends on his co-operation,” replies Ivy.

Nodding, Alex approaches the fence and calls out. "Excuse me!"

On the other side of the fence stood a number of men, but it was the two nearest to them who appeared to be arguing. One was a neatly turned out older man, in jacket, waistcoat and tie. The other was less well attired; he also wore a waistcoat and a knitted woollen tie, but they were obviously his work clothes, as they bore the stains of working in an oil field.

”Who are you?!” rudely snapped the second man, to which the first tutted loudly. “You are forgetting your manners, Henry,” he said urbanely, with a strong southern accent. He turned to face Alex and Ivy. “Welcome to Johnson Bayou, we don’t get many visitors here. My name is Halpert, and this Henry Jones, foreman for the Vacuum Oil Company, so-called because of the vacuum where their consciences should be!”

"Please accept our apologies for intruding," Ivy says primly. "Ivy and Alex Arbuckle at your service. We are combining journalism with a sightseeing tour of the area, with plans on writing a travelogue of sorts."

"Having pitched up at Johnson Bayou, we heard of the oil drilling operation and thought we'd do a piece, as it were."

She taps her notepad with her pen, as if to illustrate the point.

Alex cannot help but smile-- this role clearly fits Ivy far better than the demure wife!

"Indeed. It's a lovely little community. Our readers will love a detailed story on how industry is powering America's progress. We'd love to get interviews with the both of you!"

Halpert laughed sourly. “Destroying America’s communities is more like it,” he said, frowning at the foreman. “You just need to look around to see the damage being done to the place where we live!”

”For Christ’s sake, give it a rest!” growled Jones. ”That’s all we hear! You bellyaching and getting in the way of progress. Now you’ve been warned before, stay off our land!”

He turned around to Ivy and Alex and snapped, ”And that applies to any damned reporters too!”

Ivy stiffens.

"Damned reporters?" she screeches. "You'll keep a civil tongue in your head, or you'll be explaining to your superior just why an extremely unflattering article about your operation is appearing in the national press!"

Clearly, it's been a while since she had a good vent.

"Damned reporters indeed!"

Even Alex flinches, though he quickly recovers.

"It is of course your choice whether or not you wish to participate in our interview. But as my colleague mentions, it will be published regardless. And we will be contacting the company behind this operation and letting them know of your cooperation-- or lack thereof."

That said, he turns towards Halpert. "Of course we are interested in all perspectives on the matter, including those of prominent residents. We chose Johnson Bayou because it's a microcosm of what is going on in the nation at present. The clash between tradition and progress, industry and nature. We want to capture all sides of this story and would love to here yours as well, Sir."

Halpert smirked at Henry Jones who scowled angrily. ”You better watch yourselves! I don’t like nosey journalists and my boss doesn’t like them either!” he said, threatenly.

Halpert was clearly the happier of the two of them at the turn of events. “You’ve no need to take that from the likes of him,” he said. “You wait there and I’ll be right with you!” He turned and walked in the direction of the main gate, returning thirty seconds later on their side of the fence.

”Local press is it? Or are you syndicated?” he asked as he led them away from the site. ”And did you bring a camera?” Behind them, there was a paroxysm of cursing. ”You see so much as a camera and you’ve got my permission to give them what for! Damned journalists!” Jones shouted at two solidly-built security guards who were stood guarding the fence.

1d100

"We're from the Associated Press," Alex tells Halpert. "And your cooperation is appreciated, Sir. I'm sensing there's more tension here than we were first aware of."

Here you go: http://licm.org.uk/livingImage/Kodak_No ... unior.html. Should take a reasonable picture, if required.

Seeing Alex with his camera, Halpert said, “We might want to just step away from here before you wave that around. Who knows what Henry’s goons will get up to!” He took their arms and ushered them away from the fence and back down the road towards the town.

He talked as they walked. ”My names Halpert and I own some land around here. It’s been in my family for generations and I’ve got a thriving business. At least I had, until the Vacuum Oil Company showed up. We’ve had nothing but trouble since. They’ve polluted some of the waterways and those oil storage pits of theirs are causing havoc with the local insects. My yield’s down 20 per cent since they arrived. And you can’t reason with them, no sir! Jones’ boys are causing all sorts of problems around the town. It got so a god-fearing man worried about taking his family to church because of their behaviour!”

Alex looks very interested, trying to sell the idea of this story suddenly seeming far more complex than the puff piece they had hoped to write.

"Oh my, this all sounds rather troubling. Yes Mr. Halpert, we'd love to hear more on all this along with recommendations on who to talk to-- I do doubt we'll be getting much from Mr. Jones or his men, though journalistic integrity ensures that we try.

You say they even disrupt church services?"