Day 42: The roustabout

It took a moment for me to figure out what exactly a roustabout was. But I now know -- and perhaps knew, back in my memory somewhere -- that it's a job in the oil fields. And this man whom I'd met had been most recently working in northern Alaska. His name was Jay, and I'd found him in the parking lot of a Walmart store. It was another one of those days, where I'd needed to complete my project for the day, and it was getting late.

I'd watched Jay pull into the parking lot with his camper. It really was just a camper-shell that went on the back of his pickup -- a beat-up old Dodge. And it was a piece of patch-work at that. The shell of the camper was aluminum, but it had a few pieces of insulation attached to it. He'd been in Alaska, after all. On the back were several American flags, a Wyoming license plate and a cross. So as I walked up to his truck, I figured I'd find a willing soul. And perhaps a bit of eccentricity.

I found both. Jay at first rolled down his window just a crack, probably figuring I was there to run him off or for some other not-so-good purpose. But when I told him I wanted to pray for him, he rolled his window down a bit farther. "I'm a Christian," he said. "You don't need to pray for me." And then he stopped almost mid-sentence and told me that, sure, I could pray for him and he would pray for me.

We had a long talk then. He was eager to discuss just about anything. He told me he'd been sick. He had a couple of spots on his lungs. Then he talked about his work as a welder in the oil fields. He really had wanted to get back to Indiana, and out of the cold climate of Alaska. He'd made good money there, $60 an hour for a company that was hard up for a welder, and he was their man. But his body was slowing down. He was almost 70, he explained. 

It was a rambling discussion, but he kept fingering a cross that was around his neck. And I noticed on the side of his truck a sticker that said, "clergy," that was faded by age and sun. There also were a couple of stickers indicating the U.S. Air Force.

At the end, he preferred I not pray for him in public. It really wasn't that public of a place, out in the desolate outskirts of a Walmart parking lot. But he said the Bible instructs us to do our praying behind closed doors. He showed me his own Bible, which was sitting right on top of a pile of stuff in the passenger seat. It was well-worn. I didn't argue with him. 

But I told him that later, I would pray for him and his health. He also wanted me to pray for his son, a doctor who wasn't saved. I gathered that the two weren't close. Jay, meanwhile, asked about me and my family. He said he would pray for us. After a bit, we shook hands and I left him. I went into Walmart then to gather up a few things, and when I emerged, his truck was nowhere to be seen.

Tonight, I prayed for both Jay and his son.