by Doug Draper
When Grandpa Thorne stepped out of the truck, he examined the rocks already loaded. They nearly reached the top of the bed and caused the truck’s tires to bulge under the weight.
“Al, let’s not get greedy. I think it’s time to call it quits.”
Despite looking irritated, Al agreed to go, but then he spotted another “gold mine” after pulling away from the gully. “Oh! Look at that rock! It’s exactly what I need.”
Al slowed the truck and turned toward the edge of the road—facing the side that dropped sharply to the series of switchbacks. With no guardrail on this makeshift road, Ben joined his grandfather in grabbing the dashboard when Al appeared to be driving over the cliff.
“Relax! You two are making me nervous.”
Grandpa Thorne glared at Al while Ben slid back into his seat and tried to act “relaxed.” Al had intentionally driven to the road’s edge to give him enough room to back up. He completed the maneuver, left the truck running, and jumped out.
“Wait in the truck. I see a flat stone behind us that will make this trip a complete success. I’ll throw it in and then we’ll be on our way.”
Through the mirror on the driver’s side of the truck, Ben watched his father free the rock from the weeds and dirt holding it in place. Next, he dropped the truck’s tailgate and lifted the rock into the bed. When he shoved the rock forward, the truck also moved, coming close to rolling over the cliff.
Ben turned to warn him that the truck had moved. Before Ben could suggest applying the emergency brake, Al slammed the tailgate with both hands. This action delivered another physics lesson—an object at rest remains at rest unless a man stealing rocks gives it a push. And if that object is pushed from flat ground to the side of a steep hill, gravity takes over. The object goes from being at rest to being in motion—fast motion.
Al’s forceful tailgate closing moved the truck ahead so that the front wheel on the driver’s side crossed the edge of the road and fell onto the steep hillside. When the wheel left the road, the truck tipped in that direction. Grandpa Thorne quickly braced himself against the dashboard as it appeared the truck might roll over, but the other front wheel also moved forward. When it dropped to the hillside, the truck straightened out with its entire front end hanging over the edge of the road.
For a moment, Ben thought the truck’s momentum had stopped and they would be safe, but the truck started to slide forward and soon all four wheels were on the hillside. When that happened, the truck began a rapid descent. Ben turned to look for his father and saw him trying to catch up.
“Ben, grab the wheel!” Al shouted. “Keep her straight and hit the brakes!”
Ben heard the instructions, but he thought his grandfather, who had a driver’s license, should take over. When Ben turned toward his grandfather who had his hands welded to the dashboard, it became clear that he had no plans to stop the runaway truck. Ben decided to go with his father’s last clear message—grab the wheel!
He slid out of the middle seat and seized the steering wheel with both hands. At only four and a half feet in height, Ben found it nearly impossible to reach the brakes while steering the truck. To step on the brake pedal, he had to slide so low in the seat that he could barely see over the dashboard. And this off-road trip required him to keep his eyes on the mountainside.
He found that he could apply the brakes and still see where they were going by straightening his foot and using his toe to push the pedal. This approach worked, and the truck began to slow down. Grandpa Thorne offered no advice or assistance as he continued to stare straight ahead with a pale, terrified look. Ben remembered that his grandfather took heart medication and hoped it kept working for him.
Ben’s first few seconds as a driver had succeeded in slowing the truck and keeping it heading straight. Things changed, though, when crossing the first of the switchbacks. The truck’s front end gently kissed the road when crossing, but the backend slapped it hard. Grandpa Thorne and Ben bounced up in their seats and came down with a thump. Passing over the switchback also sent one of the rocks in the bed flying forward. It smashed the rear window of the cab.
While his grandfather pleaded with God for help, Ben pulled himself back into driving position and stretched for the brake pedal. The next switchback loomed two seconds away. He worried that crossing another one would cause him to lose control and roll the truck, so he made a quick decision. Ben slid lower in the seat and stomped on the brakes.
When the front tires contacted the switchback, the truck’s nose slightly dug into the road. This helped act as another brake. Then, Ben made his first major turn as a driver and swung the truck to the left to get on the road instead of crossing it.
“Too close, too close, too close!” Grandpa Thorne shouted, pointing at the cliff on his side of the truck.
Ben thought he had plenty of room, but he wanted to please his grandfather, so he calmly steered away from danger. He finished braking and noticed that the truck was still running, so he turned off the ignition and applied the emergency brake. Ben decided that he didn’t need his father’s approval for using the brake. In his mind, he had become the captain of the truck and had full responsibility for its safe operation.
Despite having nearly lost his life in the truck, Grandpa Thorne didn’t jump out as soon as it came to a stop. Instead, he rested his head on his right hand and leaned against the side window with closed eyes. Ben exited the truck and quietly shut the door. His grandfather needed to rest.
Al came bounding down the hillside grinning and laughing. Ben didn’t know what kind of reaction to expect. They had never been through something like this. It pleased Ben to have “fun Dad” treat the runaway truck as an amusing event.
“Way to go, little buddy!” Al shouted as he ran up to the truck and peeked inside the bed. “You only lost a few rocks. I should let you drive more often.”
“Sure,” Ben replied, feeling confident that he could do it.
“How’s your passenger?” Al asked in a whisper.
“He’s taking a nap.”
Al walked to the driver’s side of the truck and looked inside. After a few seconds, he slowly opened the door and waved Ben toward the cab. Ben took his usual seat in the middle and his father slid in next to him without a word. Al restarted the truck and tried to drive forward, but the truck seemed reluctant to go.
“Somebody put on the emergency brake,” Al said, releasing the brake and then driving away at a fast pace. “I suppose that was the sensible thing to do and I probably should have done it a few minutes ago, but think about how much fun you would’ve missed.”
Ben smiled. He had finally bonded with his father—over a ten-second truck ride.
“Al, you’re going a little too fast,” Grandpa Thorne said sternly, lifting his head up from the window to glare at the driver. “God saved us once already today. Let’s not test him to see if he will do it again.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll bring it down a bit,” Al said, dropping his grin and focusing on the road instead of making eye contact with his weary father-in-law. Al looked upset and brooded briefly.
“Or I could let Ben slide over here and take the wheel,” he said with a chuckle. “If Ben has God on his side, then we’d all be better off with him driving.”
Grandpa Thorne didn’t respond, and the trip home continued in silence until reaching the mouth of the canyon. Sheriff Kort in his patrol car approached them from the other direction. “Wave like a crazy boy,” Al said.
Ben joined his father in waving at the sheriff and they received a subdued wave in return. Having been with his father on similar runs, Ben understood his philosophy—if you don’t act sneaky, you don’t get caught. It worked with Sheriff Kort. On the other hand, Grandpa Thorne reported all the details of the outing to Rachel. She agreed with him that taking the rocks wasn’t honest and the near-death experience shouldn’t have been treated as a joke. For Ben, it stood out as one of those days when “fun Dad” made his life worth living.
; CHAPTER 28
“Get your working clothes on!” Al shouted the following Saturday as he stormed into the small bedroom shared by Joe and Ben. “We’ve got big things to do.”
Joe and Ben had to fake enthusiasm for their father and never grumble about being thrown out of bed. Even though sunrise had yet to arrive, the boys jumped up as soon as they heard their father’s voice. Al hated to see his boys “wasting the day in bed.”
“Joe, I want you to milk Daisy. Ben, feed all the animals and make sure they have fresh water,” Al said. “Then we’ll grab breakfast and head over to the Armstrongs’ farm to pick up a truckload of hay. I’m fixing their tractor in a trade for the hay. I don’t know what’s wrong yet, so this could be a long project or a quick fix. And when we’re done there, I have another repair on a construction site in Spanish Fork. So, chop, chop, let’s go.”
Al often tried to fit twelve hours or more of work into his “day off.” Satisfied that his boys were fully engaged in his plan, Al threw open the door to the girls’ bedroom, shouting, “Rise and shine!”
Debbie responded by rolling over and pulling the covers tighter over her shoulders. She mumbled, “Be quiet. I’m tired and don’t want to get up.”
Al responded by imitating a bugle playing “Reveille” while kicking the headboard of Debbie’s bed. When she still didn’t jump to her feet, he grabbed the covers off her and tossed them across the room and then yanked the pillow from under Debbie’s head and used it to repeatedly whack her behind. She resisted the command to get out of bed by curling into a ball and hiding her face.
By now, Becky had crawled out of her bed and stood silently by while she watched the noisy wake-up call. “What’s wrong with you?” Al asked Debbie angrily. “Why are you so fat, dumb, and ugly?”
Ben cringed when he heard the “fat, dumb, and ugly” insult. His father often spewed the phrase when angry with Debbie. Ben knew that the words cut into her heart like a razor-sharp knife. He had experienced the same agony when his father called him “the stupidest and laziest boy in the world.”
Debbie cried as she slid off the end of the bed to get as far away from her father as possible before staggering to her feet. She sobbed, “I don’t know why you can’t let me sleep until I’m ready to get up. Now, I’ll be tired all day.”
“I don’t have time to waste with this nonsense!” Al shouted. “We’re all working from sunrise to sunset today and that includes you. Your mother has already left for her job and you need to clean this dump before she comes home. And take a shower—you stink.”
“No, I took one yesterday,” Debbie whined.
“Don’t give me that smart mouth!” Al shouted, stepping forward and slapping Debbie in the face. She reacted with hysterical crying and Becky joined her.
“What did I do to deserve such a bunch of bratty, bawling babies?” Al snarled before he turned away from his devastated daughters and stormed out of the house.
Despite the vile treatment of their sister, Joe and Ben, having grown numb to the abuse, shrugged it off and headed for the barnyard. When passing Debbie’s room, Joe paused and said, “Way to go! He was already ‘mad Dad’ and now you’ve made it worse. When are you ever going to learn that he only wants to hear ‘Yes’ from us and to see nothing but happy faces?”
The morning for Joe and Ben went well as Al’s mood improved. The Armstrongs’ tractor only needed a carburetor adjustment and the work resulted in a favorable exchange—twenty-five bales of hay for less than an hour of work.
After unloading the hay and eating a quick lunch, one of Joe’s friends showed up with a job offer. The friend had agreed to mow a woman’s lawn and pick weeds out of her flower beds for eight dollars. The mowing would be easy, but he needed help with the weeding and would split the money with Joe if he could work that afternoon.
“Dad, would that be all right?” Joe asked his father. “I’d love to make that much money in a few hours.”
“OK, it would be an excellent way for you to learn the value of work,” Al said. “But be back here for your evening chores.”
Ben stayed behind, feeling cheated. While Joe would be hanging out with a friend and making money, he would be going to Spanish Fork with his father and working the rest of the afternoon for no pay. Ben made the trip, helping his father fix an electrical problem with a small cement mixer
Despite needing to make two hardware store visits, Al succeeded in getting the mixer running and the entire afternoon passed without any signs of the smoldering anger that Ben had seen early in the day. After returning home, his father even helped Ben with his chores. Joe showed up at the same time and milked Daisy.
“Ben, it looks like your chores are done,” Al said. “Run into the house and make sure Debbie has everything in order. I don’t want your mother coming home to a mess and she’ll be here soon.”
As soon as Ben walked in the back door, he noticed that the lunch dishes hadn’t been washed, which Debbie had promised to do. He found Debbie and Becky in their bedroom playing with dolls.
“What’s going on?” Ben asked, shaking his head in sincere bewilderment. “Why haven’t you done the dishes?”
“Becky wanted to play,” Debbie said while helping set up a Barbie picnic on Becky’s bed. “And I thought I was supposed to take care of her while you guys were gone. I didn’t have time to do both.”
“You must be as dumb as Dad says you are,” Ben said, frowning because he knew the pleasant afternoon was about to turn into a rough evening.
“Yeah, and you’re stupid and lazy!” Debbie snapped back.
Ben charged his sister and gave her a thump in the back of the head like his father had done to him many times. Debbie fought back and punched Ben in the arm. Even though she was four years younger, Debbie was as tall as Ben and heavier. She delivered a stinging punch that forced Ben to retreat from the room.
“OK, I’ll do the dishes, but you need to start cleaning up this house before Dad comes in here. He’s going to flip out.”
“I don’t care what he does,” Debbie said. “I’m not afraid of him like you are.”
Ben was more than afraid of his father. The man terrified him, so he rushed into the kitchen and focused on cleaning up the most visible messes. They included the remnants of an afternoon snack that Debbie and Becky had made. He scraped sticky clumps of Rice Krispies off the counter and floor, washed and dried dishes, and started putting them away. His father and Joe walked in the back door before he completed the last task.
“What are you doing?” Al asked Ben in anger.
“The lunch dishes.”
“Why?”
“Debbie didn’t have time to do them because she was taking care of Becky.”
“That’s not what I told her to do.”
Al began shouting for Debbie while Joe carried the milk bucket to the kitchen sink where he would strain the milk to remove gnats and hay flakes before storing it in the refrigerator. Ben quickly finished putting away the dishes. After a long minute of listening to her father yelling, Debbie pushed open the kitchen door and stood in front of him.
“Why didn’t you do the dishes?” he asked.
“I told Ben that I didn’t have time because Becky wanted to play,” Debbie said, pointing at Ben as if the fault belonged on his shoulders.
“I don’t care what Becky wanted. Your job was to get the dishes done and then to clean up the house. From what I can see, Ben did the dishes and I bet the rest of the house is still a mess. Did you play all day?”
“No, I cleaned my room and made my bed—and so did Becky.”
“What about the kitchen floor? Did you sweep it?”
“No, but I can sweep it now.”
“It’s too late. You wasted your time while the rest of us worked.”
Al shook his head in disgust as he pointed at crumbs on the kitchen floor and then turned his attention back to Debbie. “When I was a kid, I learned to work hard and get the job done when promised. That’s why my foster family
let me live in their home for eight years. I kept their house spotless and never complained once about the work. When are you going to pitch in and do your fair share of the work?”
Instead of following Joe’s example of keeping quiet in these tense moments, Debbie lost control of her emotions and asked in a loud, angry voice, “Just because that’s what you did, does it mean that we have to do the same thing?”
Al’s rapid-fire reply came as a backhand slap to the face and a demand. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that. You know how much I hate smart-mouths.”
He marched to the kitchen closet and pulled out the broom. “Now, take this broom, put a smile on your face, and sweep the floor and you’d better show me plenty of enthusiasm doing it.”
“But you said it was too late,” Debbie said as she took the broom from her father.
Al shouted a profanity and slapped Debbie again while the back door swung open. Rachel entered the battlefield. She ran to Debbie’s side, took the broom out of her hands, and tossed it to the floor. She wrapped her arms around Debbie who had burst into a loud, terrified cry.
“Why did you hit her?” Rachel asked, shouting. “This is insane. Are you teaching your sons that it’s acceptable to smack girls around? I can’t believe you did that, and I will not allow you to do it again.”
Shocked by Rachel’s defense, Al stood speechless with the intensity of his bright red face disappearing like water down a drain. Rachel stared at Al for a few tense moments of silence and then slammed her purse down on the kitchen table.
“OK,” she said, switching to a cheerful voice. “Let’s all pitch in and get this house sparkling clean.”
“Shipshape,” Al added glumly.
“Right, I’m going to take Debbie to her room and check on Becky,” Rachel said. “She’s probably wondering what all the crying and yelling is about. Ben, please sweep the kitchen floor and then vacuum the living room. I’ll come back and start working on dinner.”