Free Unexpected Oasis by Cd Hussey

months?
    I have no idea. What I do know is I can quit bitching about low water pressure and do my job.
    Opening the door reveals Trey leaning against the adjacent container, thick arms folded against an even thicker chest. He pushes off the steel when I step outside, extinguishing a smoking cigarette between two fingers he dampens with his tongue before placing the butt into his pocket.
    "Ready?"
    To move on? To put the past behind me? To be happy again? Yes. To relieve Conrad of his duties? No.
    "Let's do it."

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SIX
     
     
    C onrad is arguing passionately with the local contractor while a couple of befuddled looking workers stand next to a wheelbarrow filled with wet cement.
    Trey immediately joins the group, stepping between Conrad and the Afghans. "What's the problem?" he asks, his deep voice firm, gentle, and authoritative all at once.
    "This concrete mix is all off."
    The local, who I assume is the foreman on the job, holds out his hands defensively. "We mix the rocks and sand with the concrete like you ask."
    "The ratio has to be 3:2:1—gravel:sand:concrete," Conrad says to the foreman before turning to Trey and then me. "They're just throwing everything together without measuring." He turns back to the foreman. "If the ratios are off, the strength won't be right. What don't you understand about that?"
    The foreman looks exasperated. "We mix it like you say."
    "You can't just eyeball it!" Conrad's entire face is red and I doubt it's from sunburn.
    "Hang on." Trey steps directly in front of him, keeping his back to my coworker while he begins to talk directly to the foreman in the local dialect. They have a quick conversation before Trey turns back to Conrad. The foreman joins his men.
    "They're using the wheelbarrow to estimate the ratios," Trey says. "That's how they usually do it. They don't quite understand that the ratios have to be exact. Here it's normally good enough."
    "Well, it isn't good enough for the United States army. I have to test this concrete and if it isn't right, it'll all have to be redone."
    "They aren't opposed to mixing it correctly. However, they only have a wheelbarrow and a shovel…"
    "I don't care. They need to get it right."
    I'm still recovering from the shock of Trey speaking the local dialect. I need to snap out of it. After all, this is my job and I need to maintain some level of professionalism. "Conrad, are there any buckets around?"
    "Yeah, I think there are some empty paint buckets over by the trash." He gestures toward a few rusted metal containers. I spot the buckets stacked next to a bin.
    Trey catches my eye. "I'll grab them," he offers.
    "Bring at least three."
    He jogs over, grabs some buckets, jogs back, and hands them to me.
    "Anyone have a marker?" I ask.
    "I do." Conrad reaches into a large canvas bag filled with construction drawings.
    I take the marker when he produces it and proceed to write on each bucket: "6 x Gravel" on one, "4 x Sand" on another, "2 x Cement" on the third. Trey helps me carry them to the workers.
    My smile is as earnest as I can make it as I approach the Afghans. I'm not sure what to expect. Luckily, Trey immediately steps in.
    "Kaihan, this is Andrea Ellis, the interim construction manager until the new hire arrives. Andrea, Kaihan—the foreman on this job."
    I hold out my hand and Kaihan grasps it firmly. "Pleasure to meet you," he says.
    "Likewise."
    Once the introductions are made, I explain my bucket methodology: add the specified number of bucketfuls of material every time they mix a batch. If they do that, the concrete should be right every time.
    Trey assists me in clarifying when Kaihan doesn't seem to grasp what I'm saying. After everything is explained, and Kaihan seems to understand, promising to use the buckets, we return to the cluster of shipping containers. The entire way, Conrad gripes about the project, the workers, the power blackouts, and the inconsistent water.
    The container he leads us to has been