James Rawles - Expatriates

Chuck tipped the brim of his hat and nodded to her in response, and Ava burst out laughing. “I’ve met some posers, but you take the prize,” she exclaimed.

“I’m just being me, ma’am.” He cleared his throat and asked, “Assuming that you’re single, can I buy you lunch?”

“You Texans do start off at a gallop, don’t you?” Ava replied.

“When I meet a lovely single lady, I don’t waste any time.”

She paused for a moment and then said, “Lunch… Why not? I was just about done using the chamois on my car. Give me a sec, and then follow me over to Fasta Pasta—the takeaway. Do you know it?”

“The one in the shopping mall on Trower Road?”

“Right!”

Chuck grinned. “I’ll be right behind you.”

It was just a short drive to the takeaway restaurant. Ava was driving a Toyota RAV4 that was several years old but well cared for. They ordered pasta salads and took their plates to some outdoor tables in the shade of a casuarina tree—the tree species for which the town was named. Chuck had also bought them each a can of Passiona—a passion fruit soft drink—to have with their meals. He missed the larger soda fountain drinks that he was accustomed to in the States. Australia, he had learned, was “the land of no free refills.”

After some pleasantries about the weather and a discussion on the relative merits of clean vehicles versus truly utilitarian vehicles, Ava asked, “So, Chuck, Texas Oilman, what’s your story?”

“I’m an oil fossicker. I shoot reflection seismic surveys for oil and gas exploration. You know what they say: ‘Little boys who play with rocks either end up in jail or become geologists.’”

Ava cocked her head and commented, “I thought there were plenty of Aussies available to do that work. No offense, but why would they hire someone from the back side of the planet for that?”

“Well, I have bachelor of science and masters degrees in geology with a specialty in geophysics. I liked Red Raiders football so much I just had to stick around those extra two years and earn that second degree. I’m glad that I did since the market is really hot now for folks with a specialty in geophysics.”

Ava looked taken aback by his credentials. “I see. So how did you get your start, after Texas Tech?”

“After I finished my masters, I went to work for Vecta Oil and Gas, in the States. I started out in the office, but I eventually found my niche in leading a seismic acquisition team for oil and gas exploration. I liked working outdoors and traveling much more than I did any five-day-a-week job at the corporate office. In my first three years, I worked with the company’s seismic crews in Texas, Colorado, Montana, and North Dakota. Eventually, my manager asked me to move to North Dakota full-time, where the company was making a major investment in a geologic play known as the Bakken oil shale—sorry, am I boring you with all this?” asked Chuck.

“Not at all,” Ava assured him.

“Okay, we were shooting a large 3-D seismic survey with follow-up plans for an aggressive drilling program. The Bakken shale play is really booming. But I very quickly got tired of the winters in North Dakota. They’re really brutal. I knew that I wanted something different, or at least someplace more habitable and warm . So I started searching for other oil and gas opportunities… especially jobs outside the United States.”

“So why Australia?” asked Ava.

“Well, one evening I was doing some web wandering, and I stumbled upon Australian Oil and Gas Corporation headquartered in Darwin. One of my lab instructors in college was an Aussie and told great stories about the country. More or less on a lark, I updated my resume and e-mailed it. I was pleasantly surprised when I got a quick response. Eleven days later, I was on a Qantas jet bound for Sydney, reading the old novel In The Wet , by Nevil Shute. I took a Virgin flight up to Darwin, and by the time I got there I was already onto my second Shute novel, The Far Country . Those books were a pretty good crash course on Australian culture.”

“More than a bit dated,” Ava interjected. “But yes, his books did capture the culture, back in the 1950s. People in this part of Australia have changed a lot less than they have down in the big cities.”

“I was surprised that the company gave me a job offer right on the spot, at the end of my second interview,” Chuck continued. “Turns out they were looking for a person that had a strong background in both seismic acquisition and seismic prospecting, and I fit the bill. They said that they’d expedite my work visa, pay all of my moving expenses, yada-yada-yada. So here I am. I like the climate here. It is a lot more conducive to my hobbies—especially shooting, hiking, and mountain bike riding—than living in the Dakotas ever was.”

Ava nodded in agreement and forked up more of her pasta.

After a pause to take a sip of soda, Nolan asked, “And you, Ava?”

“I’m just a year out of high school, and saving up the money to attend the ANU, starting in the upcoming first term this January. I’ll be studying computer science. Right now I’m just a GIS technician, plotting and confirming map coordinates, using ArcMap. It’s all very boring, repetitive work, but I want to expand on my current rudimentary programming skills to learn how to actually write programs, not just use them like a worker bee for the rest of my life.”

“That’s great. And so you’re single, not engaged or…”

Ava laughed. “Back to the full gallop, are we?”

Chuck grinned sheepishly.

“Before we delve off into potential, or shall we say hypothetical , matrimonial topics, Mr. Chuck Nolan, I have a big fat question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“Are you a Christian?”

“Well, yeah. I went to church when I was a kid. I went to Sunday school and all the usual—”

Ava cocked her head and interrupted, “Yes, but do you know Jesus the Christ as your personal savior?”

“I’ve never thought in those terms,” Chuck admitted. “I mean, I’ve never studied the Bible as an adult, you see. I really wouldn’t know where to start.”

Ava pushed the remains of her plate aside and said, “Do you have a Bible, a King James?”

Chuck nodded.

“Since you understand shooting, then you will understand ‘missing the mark.’ This is man’s biggest problem. I suggest you start by reading the Gospel of John—he depicts Jesus’ work to solve man’s biggest problem very plainly. See if that speaks to you. And if it does, then ask Jesus into your heart.”

Ava stood up from the table and gave a little wave.

“Wait! I need your phone number,” Chuck protested.

Ava pulled out a pen and wrote on the back of their lunch receipt. “Here’s my mobile number. I would like you to ring me up, Chuck. But before you do, I’d really like you to be able to tell me, with sincerity, where you stand with God.”

Janelle Altmiller was depressed. She had spent the last hour on the Internet, checking on comparable houses for one of her real estate clients. What she found confirmed the continuing deterioration of the real estate market in central Florida. Despite all the talk of “recovery” in the market, prices were still down everywhere she looked. Even more depressing were the huge number of foreclosed properties, and the average time on the market for homes that sold—thirteen months to sell a house in Lake County.

If Janelle and Jake had been forced to rely solely on her property sales commissions, they would have already been bankrupt. Thankfully, Jake had the income from the hardware store that he’d inherited from his late parents. The store was small, and its location at the south end of Tavares was not optimal, but visits from their regular local customers were still fairly steady.