Day 1

Log Title: Day 1

Characters: Spike, Sparkplug, Roland

Location: Somewhere off the Atlantic shores

Date: May 1984

TP: Flashback

'''Summary: The seeds of Spike and Sparkplug's future are firmly planted as they two find themselves on an oil rig that will alter their future forever a mere six weeks from now. Though Spike quickly went along with his father's request to have him work alongside him for the entire summer, shades of teenage rebellion surface as an isolated Spike tries to rebel from his first-day duties. The key word is "tries". '''

10:37 a.m.
Despite a morning bout of flaring arthritis in his right knee, Frank had no trouble briskly walking down to Roland’s office. Roland briefly looked up from a series of dog-eared spreadsheets and cupped his knee with his hands.

“Heyah Frank, what seems to be the problem?”

“It’s that Spike kid. I asked him to clean the bathrooms, and he gave me a smartass response at how he’d be better at doing repairs.”

Roland nods slowly, as if he already predicted this situation would happen. He slowly openes his mouth to respond before Frank continued.

“I told him I didn’t give a shit what you’re good at. We hired you to clean!” Frank pulls out a rag from his overalls and began wiping some grease from his hand. “He muttered something and went back to work. I checked in on him 30 minutes later and he was reading a damned comic book!”

Roland absorbs Frank’s rant and nods.

“Funny, it’s like we hired a 16-year old…”

“That’s no excuse! I’ve worked as a janitor here for 18 years!..”

Roland raised a halting hand.

“I know…I am not excusing his behavior. I’m just saying… most likely he expected to spend the summer chasing girls and going to baseball games, and lo and behold, he’s sent to an oil rig with no one his age.”

Frank frowned.

“No excuse, you’re right," Roland agreed. "But it’s always good to get into the head of those squeaky wheels that need greasing.” He smirks and says “Send him in. I haven’t had one of my ‘talks’ since I fired that college snob last year. Roland leaned back in his chair and eeked out a forced English accent.

“Oh, how I hate breaking new workers. Send the Witwicky boy in!”

Frank grinned.

“Bullshit, boss. Chewing out other coworkers is like a goddamn perk in your job description!”

Roland grinned and pointed to a chair opposite his desk. “Send him to the gallows…”

A few minutes later, Spike knocks on Roland’s door. He gulps, feeling warmer than he did a few minutes ago. “You…wanted to see me, sir?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland nods and gestures Spike into his office.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“Heyah, son. How you liking the new job?!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike forces a tired, polite smile.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“It’s all right…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland gives a single nod. “Your…uh…supervisor tends to have a different opinion.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike shakes his head. “No, sir! I like the work! I just…” He steels his spine and stammers. “I just, think I’d be better help doing like…repairs and stuff.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland gives a measured smirk. “So…Frank’s work – you think you’re capable of more?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike paused. His eyes search the room for a non-existing answer that wouldn’t demean Frank. He finally nods.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland finally rose from his desk. “See…I already HAVE repair folks…some who have been doing repairs well before you were born.” He walks past Spike and shuts the door, sending a rush of cold down Spike’s back. “What I DON’T have is someone who can clean.” Roland’s smile disappears instantly. “See, right now, what’s standing right in front of me is a flagrant OSHA violation! Do you know how much I could be fined bringing a 14-year-old aboard an oil rig?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike’s mouth gapes slightly.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“No…” he said dumbly.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“A shitton!” Roland spat.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland frowns, raising his voice, but inflecting so his voice doesn't break.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“If I’m going to get fined, it better be because we have a goddamn good janitor on this rig, not because we’re carrying some goddamn pretty boy who thinks he’s too goddamn good to mop floors!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Outside Roland’s office, two workers flinch as Roland’s voice carried outside the closed doors. The workers giggle  and shake their heads as they head to the generators.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike stands in terror. Too afraid to talk, he nodded, feeling perspiration gather from the back of his neck.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland moves one step closer to Spike.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“You’re bringing attention onto yourself. And if one person on this rig turns your ass in, I’ll make sure not only your ass leaves this rig, but your father as well!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike stutters. “No…I..I didn’t!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland takes one step closer. “You know how much your dad cares about you and your brother?! I haven’t seen a more dedicated father on this rig. And what the fuck are you doing to return the favor, by shitting on him!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">A damp, swampy dread fills the back of Spike's neck.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“No, I…!” his voice started to break.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland frowns.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“You think your dad WANTED to bring you out here?! You think he enjoys seeing his son at work 10-hours a day and not enjoying his summer vacation!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“No!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland edges closer to Spike as his nose is mere inches from the top of Spike’s head.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“See, I run a tight ship here. And I don’t have time to be a wet nurse to a spoiled high schooler!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike’s eyes began to well.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">"I'm not spoiled! I swear..."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland looks at Spike and frowns, pointing to the door. “You know what, I don’t believe you! Not for a second! Get the fuck out of here! I can’t even look at you right now!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike stands for a few seconds.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“OUT!” Roland screamed, making some more people walking outside his office flinch.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike’s shoulders slump and he turns to open the door. Resting his hand on the doorknob, Spike turns around, tears streaming down his face. “Please…sir…give me another chance! I’m so sorry! I just…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland folds his arms and looks at Spike skeptically.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“I don’t know…honestly. I…just don’t think you’re cut out for this. Trust me, I have a sense about this. I know the moment a person steps on this rig that they’re not up to the task. Like you, they’re these linguini-spined college know-it-alls who think they’re going to make a fast buck. Only you seem to be ahead of the game. Now, instead of linguini-spined college kids, I got a junior high baby to look after! - not even in high school yet!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike shook his head, tears flowing freely. “Please sir! My dad …I can’t…I can’t let him down!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland pauses and steps toward Spike.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“I want to believe you…I really do.” He frowns, closing in. “So, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m putting you on probation. A five-hour probation. From this moment on…as long as you’re on this rig, your ass belongs to Frank. If he tells you to clean toilets, they better be spotless! If he tells you to jump in the ocean, you best dive! From this point on, he is GOD to you. God it?!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike nods rapidly, wiping some tears from his eyes.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland moves past Spike to open the door.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">“I’m taking a risk with you, son. Do NOT make a fool out of me.” He frowns and says “..or your dad.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike nods and leaves. The dimly lit corridors to Roland’s office give a reassuring shelter as Spike’s able to wipe a fresh flow of tears from his face. Roland, hearing Spike leave gives a warm smile to himself and goes back to his spreadsheets. He takes a sip of coffee. “Wow…haven’t scared someone that hard since that Yale grad…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">A few hours later…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike’s scrubbing one of the faucets with a toothbrush. His shoulders are on fire from the day’s work. Roland comes in, sending Spike back a few steps as if he touched a live wire. Roland, not looking at Spike, merely looks around the bathroom. He pauses and nods. “Not too bad…’

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike nods, looking absolutely wiped out from his first full-time day of work. He’s worked this hard before. But never on the clock. Never outside his father’s protective halo. He gives Roland an attentive look, but also looks like he’s ready to fall asleep on the spot.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland shrugs. “Think that’ll be all today. Good news though! Frank thinks you just might be useful tomorrow.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike nods and says meekly “Thanks…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland shrugs. “Don’t thank me, thank Frank. Now clean yourself up.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike nods and collects his cleaning gear and leaves. Roland pauses and yells down the hallway. “Heyah! Next month…one of our coworkers is going on paternity leave. I…may…MAY be in need of a replacement. Ever operate a bailer before?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike shakes his head. Not even hearing the term. But liking the term ‘operate’.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Roland shrugs “Well… as I said, we’ll see. Until then… your best bet is to get on Frank’s good side.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Spike nods and weakly smiles “Yes, sir.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in10pt;color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">He then walks back to his cabin, planning on doing nothing more or less than passing out face-first on his cot. Day 1 down…84 more to go.

6:47 p.m.
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