Road Test

by David Wickenhauser

  “We’ve been on the road for a couple of hours now. Do you need a restroom break?” Hugh asked. He was thinking, morning coffees and all. “We can pull into the truck stop coming up at Kennewick.”

  “You know what? I don’t want to start that business of you having to stop, park at a truck stop, and spend a lot of time off the road every few hours because you’ve got a girl on board. How about if I go ahead and get used to using my new jug?”

  “Sounds good to me. There are plenty of places to pull over here. We’ll stop, take care of business, and be right back on the road again.”

  Hugh found a wide shoulder to pull off the highway outside of Pasco, a little town north of Kennewick.

  Before leaving the truck stop Jenny had transferred the milk from her newly purchased jug of milk to an empty water jug, washed out the milk jug, and primed it with a little bit of Clorox to control odors.

  Hugh got his jug, already cleaned and primed like Jenny’s, and closed the curtain dividing the driver’s area of the cab from the sleeper berth area. He took the driver’s side, and gave Jenny the more-private sleeper berth side to do her business.

  When Jenny announced she was finished, Hugh secured the curtain open again. They stashed their jugs away in their secure locations, making sure they were tightly capped. Got back into their seats, and were on the road again – all in less than ten minutes.

  “How did it go?” Hugh asked.

  “Good,” Jenny replied. “There’s a technique. Took me a minute to get it right. But it worked just fine. And you?”

  Hugh laughed. He knew Jenny knew he was an old hand at taking care of his business while on the road, something he had learned early in his career. On the first day he had spent in a truck, in fact. The day he had got picked up by James as a hitchhiker.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Speaking of James,” Hugh said. “Isn’t it time we gave him a call?”

  He heard Jenny laugh. Hugh knew he wasn’t exactly a chatterbox, and he realized he did sometimes finish a conversation out loud he had started in his head. Jenny must have thought the James segue after doing the jug thing was funny.

  “Sure, now would be a good time,” Jenny said.

  She’d already added James’ phone number to the contacts on both of their phones, and had created an icon for the contact on their home screens. It was only a matter of tapping the icon on her phone, and the phone service reached out to ring James’ number.

  Even though they both had Bluetooth headsets she put her phone in speaker mode and held the phone up so she and Hugh could talk to James together.

  “Hello,” they heard from the speaker.

  “Hey Old Man, it’s me, Hugh,” Hugh said loudly so James could hear him.

  “Hey, kid. What the heck’s going on?” James asked.

  Hugh had been only twenty-one when he had first met James, who was his senior by a little better than twenty years. The Old Man and Kid names went back to their first day of meeting each other fifteen years earlier.

  Hugh could write a whole book about their adventures together beginning with when Hugh had killed Jenny’s father in a fight the day Hugh had met James. But, that story was better left untold. Only James, Jenny and Hugh’s immediate family knew about that. It would make Charlie the reporter’s head explode if she ever got wind of it.

  “I see you’re famous. It’s all over Facebook.” James was not as social media averse as Hugh was. Somebody, probably one of Hugh’s family members, likely Mary, had put the newspaper article up on Facebook. James, being a “Friend” of Hugh’s family, had seen it there.

  James had visited Hugh during his recuperation at the family ranch, and Hugh’s family had taken an instant liking to him.

  “Hi James,” Jenny said.

  “Well, now. Look who’s there!” James had fallen in love with Jenny the first time he had met her. He sounded real pleased to hear Jenny’s voice on the phone.

  “You haven’t dumped that bum yet? You know my offer to run away with me is still good.”

  “No, I think I’ll keep him for a while longer. If he behaves himself.” Jenny winked at Hugh.

  “Just curious,” James said. He sounded serious. “What’s the deal with that reporter?”

  “No deal. We didn’t get along well with her at all,” Hugh said.

  “I mean, how are you going to arrange her ride along with you? How’s that going to work out with Jenny?”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” Hugh asked. At the same time, Jenny shouted into the phone, “Say what!”

  “You mean you guys didn’t know about that. You saw the article, right?”

  “It was in the article?” Hugh asked. He couldn’t keep the incredulousness out of his voice.

  “Yeah, at the end, something to the effect it was letting the newspaper’s readers know about an upcoming story about the hero trucker written by the reporter who was going to ride along and get a feel for a trucker’s life on the road.”

  “That’s news to us. It wasn’t in the version of the story we saw,” Hugh said. He looked over, and could see Jenny shaking her head back and forth.

  “It’s in the version that’s all over the internet,” James said.

  “We know nothing about that. We’re definitely going to find out. You can bet on that,” Hugh said.

  “By the way, we’re on 395 right now, planning to do an overnight in Twin Falls, then heading south to Phoenix. Where are you?”

  “Opposite end of the spectrum from you, buddy. Just pulling out of the LA Basin with a load for Portland.” James drove for the same company as Hugh did, and was on the Pacific fleet. Occasionally, their paths crossed, and they liked to get together whenever possible.

  “OK, I’ve got to let you go,” James said. “I’m getting off of 210 now. You know, where it joins I-5. Traffic’s jammed, so I’d better pay attention. Let me know what you find out about your ride along.”

  “That sure is an interesting development,” Hugh said. “Get on your phone and find the Times’ website. See if you can find that article.”

  Hugh had purchased unlimited data for his and Jenny’s phones. It wasn’t that much more expensive. The only downside was it came with a block preventing using the cell phone as a hot spot so all that data couldn’t be abused. But, since Hugh spent more time in the truck cab than he did in the sleeper berth, and using his laptop, the additional data was more useful. Like right now.

  Jenny brought up the mobile version of the Idaho Times’ website. Since the article was still current she’d had no trouble finding it.

  “Here it is,” she said. As she skimmed the article, she again shook her head.

  “It’s mostly the same article we saw. The part James mentioned is in there at the end. It’s like he said. That reporter has announced she is going to be riding along with you.”

  Hugh glanced over at Jenny. She had an “over my dead body” kind of expression on her face, lips pursed, eyes narrowed, arms folded across her chest. Fighting mode. Hugh had been there with Jenny, done that. He didn’t envy the reporter if Jenny ever got her hands on her.

  “That all makes sense now,” Hugh said.

  “What?”

  “Think about it. We get an email from Charlie the day before the article publishes saying, thanks for the interview, bye. Then the next day after the story is first published we get an email from Charlie trying to soften us up for another meeting for another interview. For some reason, they had changed the article to announce she’s riding along with me.”

  “Sounds like a setup. That skank figured she was going to talk us into letting her ride with you in your truck. Unbelievable.”

  “Ain’t gonna happen, Jenny. Get the newspaper’s phone number and dial it for me.”

  Again, since Hugh wanted Jenny to be in on the phone call he had her dial the number and put it on speakerphone. One of these times he’d get to use his new Bluetooth headset.

  The phone rang, and got picked up by a robot
asking which department they wished to speak to. Say advertising, or say news. Like that. Jenny said “news” into her phone.

  Hugh wouldn’t have been so compliant. He refused to talk to robots, and would keep hitting zero until a human answered.

  “News desk,” a voice answered. Hugh and Jenny wouldn’t have known it, but it was John the news desk guy who had taken the call.

  “I’d like to speak to Charlie please,” Hugh said, shouting into the speakerphone.

  “Which Charlie? We’ve got a couple of Charlies here.”

  Hugh looked at Jenny. She mouthed, “Shields.”

  “Oh, yeah. Charlie Shields.”

  “Hold, please. I’ll ring you through to her desk.”

  They could hear the phone cycle through a couple of different ring tones. Then they could hear Charlie’s recorded voice saying, “I’m not at my desk right now. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  “Charlie, this is Hugh Mann. We found out you think you are going to meet with us again and ride along with me in my truck. You need to know that no way, not no how is that going to happen. Don’t ever contact us again.”

  With that, Hugh punched the air with his index finger toward the phone, indicating for Jenny to tap the red phone icon to hang up.

  He was so angry he wasn’t sure if what he had said made sense, even to himself. But he was pretty sure he got his message across.

  The problem was that unknown to Hugh and Jenny processes had already been put into motion, and fate would have it Hugh was indeed going to be sharing his sleeper cab some day soon with the hated reporter.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The drive down to Twin Falls was uneventful so far.

  Hugh planned for them to park at a truck plaza located where I-84 crossed State Highway 93. After overnighting there, they would take the 93 all the way to their next stop at Las Vegas.

  They were now south of Pendleton on the 84, and still a good five hours away from their stop. They’d be hitting Boise close to the time for commuters getting off of work, but Hugh didn’t expect major delays. Boise was Idaho’s state capital, and the state’s largest city, but I-84 largely bypassed the major part of the city.

  In his mind, Hugh put an asterisk next to the term “Idaho’s largest city.” The major metropolitan area around Boise comprised three of Idaho’s largest cities, Boise, Nampa and Meridian. If you took all those cities together and included every soul in the surrounding five-county area containing the cities, the total would barely make eight hundred thousand population.

  Take a major city like Phoenix or LA or Portland, and more than that population would be on the road in their cars at any given time during the day.

  “I’m having a brilliant thought,” Hugh said.

  Jenny had been sitting quietly in the passenger seat browsing the Internet on her new cell phone. “What’s that sweetie? Should I take notes? Or make a recording?”

  Hugh ignored her sarcastic joking. “What would you think of getting your CDL and learning to drive?”

  “CDL? Is that like a truck driver’s license?”

  “Yeah, commercial driver’s license. It’s like a driver’s license on steroids.”

  “I don’t know. Do you think I could do it?”

  “Getting your license, or learning to drive? Which one?”

  “Both, I guess.”

  “I think you’d ace both. You’re sharp as a tack, and stronger than a lot of men your size. And there are plenty of female truck drivers. Every year we’re seeing more on the road.”

  “What made you think of that?”

  “I don’t know. It would give you something to do. It’s actually a lot of fun. You know how much I enjoy driving one of these things. You could relieve me occasionally at first, and maybe later come aboard as a full team driver.”

  “It’s a thought. I was terrified that time I had to do the hot seat swap with you and drive while you fought off the hijacker. But it was exhilarating as well. What would I have to do?”

  “There are a couple of traditional ways. You could hire on with a carrier, and take their course and training to get your CDL. Or you could go to a truck driving school, and come out with your CDL.”

  “Neither of those ideas appeals to me,” Jenny said.

  Hugh recalled how he had got started when James made him the same offer fifteen years earlier.

  “Or you could study the CDL driver’s handbook and take a written test to get your CLP. That’s conditional learner’s permit. Once you’d got your CLP you could find a truck driver willing to take you on as a trainee. You’d learn to drive. Then you’d take your driving test at a state motor vehicle division testing facility. If you passed, you’d get your CDL.”

  “Do I know any truck drivers who would be willing to take me on?” Jenny asked. “Maybe we could go truck to truck at the next truck stop and see if any guys would be willing to let me bunk with them while I learn to drive.”

  Hugh laughed out loud at that one.

  “Honey, if you treated some poor truck driver the way you did me the first time you got on my truck, that guy would drive himself off a cliff before the first day was over.”

  Jenny nodded, laughing now herself. “Yeah. Who would have thought I’d go in such a short time from ‘What a bitch’ and ‘Couldn’t wait to get rid of her,’ to being engaged to America’s most-famous trucker.”

  Hugh remembered, and Jenny obviously did as well, his phone call with James when he was telling him about meeting Jenny. Hugh had thought he had gotten rid of her when he had given her shower credits at a truck stop in Ely, Nevada. This was shortly after picking her up. She had been a smelly, obnoxious, pain-in-the-ass hitchhiker, and he hadn’t wanted to have anything to do with her.

  He had planned to take off as soon as Jenny had gone into the shower, leaving her behind.

  As he had pulled away from the truck stop Hugh had thought he had tricked Jenny, and she wasn’t in his truck anymore. It turned out the trick was on Hugh, however, as she had doubled back, getting to the truck before Hugh, and had been hiding as a stowaway in the upper bunk of the sleeper listening to Hugh’s phone call with James.

  It still amazed Hugh to think those Jenny episodes had occurred only a couple of months before.

  “Yes,” Hugh said. “I do believe you have the resilience and smarts to drive truck.”

  “Let’s stop at the truck plaza south of La Grande for lunch. I could log off for my thirty-minute break, the mandated nap time, and we can use the restroom and make some sandwiches.”

  “Nap time?”

  “Yeah. That’s another one of the brilliant ideas bureaucrats who have never dragged their fat asses into the cab of a truck have come up with for safety.” He had more than a little bit of angry, ironic tone to his voice.

  “In their desire to control every minute of a truck driver’s life, they have decided we aren’t smart enough to know when we are tired and need to take a break. We can’t be on-duty driving in the log for more than eight hours without taking a break.”

  “But, once again, they are completely oblivious to the unintended consequences of their meddling with truckers’ time. Not only is the thirty-minute break abused more often than not anyway, defeating the purpose of the rule, but truckers sometimes feel forced to drive unsafely to make up for the thirty minutes they lose out of their day.”

  “Anyway, don’t get me started,” he said.

  Hugh pulled into the truck plaza where they took care of business in the restroom, Jenny made up some sandwiches.

  Charlie had returned to her desk in the early afternoon from an assignment. She punched the button on her desk phone to retrieve messages. She listened to a couple of inconsequential messages, but the one from Hugh had hit her hard.

  “Charlie, this is Hugh Mann. We found out you think you are going to meet with us again and ride along with me in my truck. You need to know that no way, not no how is that going to happen. Don’t ever con
tact us again.”

  The anger in Hugh’s voice was unmistakable.

  That damn managing editor, and possibly John the news desk editor, had totally sabotaged her plan to schmooze Hugh into giving her another interview. She had planned to lay off him for a while, let him drive around a bit with his little blondie girl. Then, after a cooling-down period, she was going to contact him again in a non-threatening way.

  That premature announcement in the revised version of her article shattered any ideas she might have had of an easy way to make the ride-along happen.

  In Phoenix, Joe Montoya was on the phone with the attorney.

  “Sure, boss,” Joe said. Bill Fishburn had asked Joe if he was making progress with their plan to stage a “killer” truck crash.

  “We did a trial run today. It went perfectly. We’ll do one more practice tomorrow to make sure the gals have it down pat. Then we’ll launch it for real the day after tomorrow.”

  “What about the husband? Is he completely on board with the plan?”

  “Yeah, he’s aware of the extent of the injury that could be involved.”

  “What kind of man would agree to a plan for his wife to be in a fatal car accident?”

  “The kind of man who sees a boat load of dollars coming his way,” Joe replied. “And also a man who is bitter and hateful because she was sleeping around on him, and because she had two children that aren’t his.”

  “Now consider this. When the two children are killed in the crash the whole plan could fall apart if the real father, or fathers, come forward and claim parental rights. They could file a wrongful death lawsuit with some other attorney for the children’s deaths, cutting us out completely. We need those kids so we can get our nuclear verdict,” the attorney said.

  “Even if the children survive, they’re likely to be injured, and the father or fathers could file major injury claims on the kids’ behalf, cutting us out of it,” he added.