The Prosecution of General Hastings
Page 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
A few minutes after five o’clock Jana Hastings, pulled off of Interstate 40 and into a truck stop near Webbers Falls, Oklahoma. She needed gas and noticed that there was a large field on the far side of the parking lot past where several eighteen wheelers were parked. She planned to take Beau over to the field and let him run a bit. He had been such a good traveler lying there with his head close to her. It was the least she could do for him. Sitting at the gas pump, she thought she would go ahead and call Sam and let him know where she was.
“Hi, Sam,” she said when he answered. “Just wanted to let you know that I’m okay.”
“Good girl,” he said. “Where are you?”
“I just pulled off of I-40. I’m at a truck stop near some town called Webbers Falls. I need to fill up and I see a place where I can let Beau stretch his legs.”
“Sounds good. Never heard of Webbers Falls, though. Are you doing okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. The last sign I saw said Fort Smith, Arkansas, sixty miles.”
“Oh, well you must be making good time,” said Sam.
“Yeah, I think I am.” She looked back over her shoulder and said, “I see a Hampton Inn across the road. I just may stay there tonight.”
“That sounds good. Why don’t you do that? You’ve had a full day,” he said.
“Well, if I don’t call you again, that’s what I’ve decided to do. I’ll speak with you tomorrow,” she said.
“Okay, Jana. Thanks for calling.”
“Bye, Sam,” she said and ended the call. She got out of her car and filled the tank with gas. It was still light, but the sky remained overcast from the storm that had pushed through over the weekend. She pulled over past the idling eighteen wheelers, to a corner of the field. The snow had melted as quickly as it had come and the field seemed dry. As soon as she opened the back door, Beau came bounding out and made directly for the field. She watched admiringly as her dog moved to and fro across the field one way then back again. His nose was just inches off the ground; he was picking up the scent of everything that had ever crossed the field.
Beau continued to range back and forth through the tall grass. Out of the corner of her eye, Jana saw another dog, a smaller Labrador bounding toward Beau. He was almost white, but definitely a Lab. Looking farther to her right, Jana saw a man walking toward the field. By this time the white dog had caught up with Beau and they began to play, jumping back and forth, as dogs will do.
“Tank,” the man yelled. “Play nice. He was here first.”
Jana looked toward the man who was now walking toward her. He was wearing jeans and a windbreaker. He had on a brown wool packer hat, the kind that fly fishermen wear. As he grew nearer, she noticed that he looked to be about her age, perhaps a bit older.
“Good evenin,’” the man said. I hope my pup hasn’t intruded.”
Jana looked back at the man and said, “No, not at all. He’s quite all right. What a pretty boy he is, too. How old is he?”
“He’s about nine months now. Still got a lot of puppy in him,” the man said as he watched the two dogs at play. “That’s a handsome man you’ve got there, too.”
“Oh, thank you. Yeah, he’s like a son to me,” she said.
“I know the feeling. They get next to you in a hurry, don’t they?” The man was standing there with his hands shoved down into the pockets of his jeans. He had a kindly look about him, she thought.
“Are you traveling, too?” she asked. “Well, I guess that’s a silly question.”
“Yeah. We’re in that RV over there,” he said pointing to a large motor home with a Jeep hooked behind it. “Headed out west. A friend invited me up to a cabin he has near Seattle. I hear the place is real nice. So, I finally decided to go. You?” he asked.
“I’m going the other way. I’m on my way to Washington, D.C.,” she said.
“Well, you’re going to one Washington and I’m going to the other,” he observed.
“Guess so,” she said. “You’ve got a long way ahead of you, don’t you?” she asked.
“Well, yeah,” he said. “I guess I’m a day or so short of half way. But I’m in no hurry.”
The two watched their dogs who were thoroughly enthralled with each other. They barked and scampered about, their tails in perpetual motion.
“Doesn’t take much to make them happy, does it?” the man said casually.
“No. It doesn’t. Life is simple for them, I suppose.” She continued watching the dogs but her mind seemed elsewhere.
The man seemed to notice her reverie. “What takes you to D.C.?” he asked.
“We’ve got a second home there,” she answered. “I’m just going back to stay a while.”
“I see you have Oklahoma plates. Do you live in this area?” he asked.
He didn’t seem to be prying, just making small talk. She didn’t mind his curiosity.
“We have a small ranch down near Lawton,” she said. “How about you? Where do you live?”
“Well, right now I live in that thing,” he said pointing to the RV. Smiling, he said, “I live in Atlanta, otherwise.”
With the dogs romping about, Jana and the man seemed to be content standing there watching them.
“I sure like your pup’s coloring. He looks almost white,” she observed.
“Yeah, he’s a yellow by breed,” the man said. “But he does look almost white. His name is ‘Tank.’” He turned to face her. “Mine is Jack,” he said, extending his hand. “Jack Davenport.”
She took his hand. It felt warm. “I’m Jana Hastings. Nice to meet you.” She nodded toward the dogs. “And that’s Beau.”
They fell silent then, watching their dogs.
“They sure don’t meet a stranger, do they?” he asked.
“No. They sure don’t,” she said.
Jack noticed the empty Mercedes and asked, “Are you traveling alone?”
Again, she was not put off by his question. “Yes. Just Beau and me. You?”
“Same,” he answered. “My wife passed away a while back. Tank joined me last August and we’ve been traveling around pretty much ever since. He’s a good traveler.”
The evening was beginning to fade. The lights at the truck stop were coming on and the parking lot was well lit though the field was getting darker. It was easier to see Tank than it was to see Beau.
“Are you going to continue on this evening?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I’m thinking I’ll stay across the way at that Hampton Inn.” She looked at the man who was still watching the dogs scamper about. His hands were still stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.
“Are you going on?” she asked.
“No. I started out just below Tupelo, Mississippi this morning,” he said. “I’m ready to stop.”
Curious, she asked, “Where will you go… with the motor home, I mean? Do you have to find a campground?”
“No,” he said. “I checked with the folks inside. I’m going to stay right where it’s parked.”
Again, they fell silent watching their dogs.
Jack turned and looked at Jana, a curious look on his face. “I hope you won’t think I’m being forward,” he said. “Tank is a great traveler. But he’s not much for conversation. Would you care to join me for dinner there in the truck stop?”
She smiled, considering the offer. “I’ve never eaten in a truck stop,” she said. This man seemed so genuine and so… what was the word? Non-threatening. What would it hurt?
“Great food,” he said. “Have you ever seen a skinny truck driver? Why don’t you go over to that Hampton and check in? Then come on back and meet me in the dining room.”
She thought a moment. What could it hurt? “I think I’d like that. Sure. Why not?”
“In fact, if you’d like, bring Beau back with you and he can stay in the RV with Tank while we are at dinner.”
“Hmm. I guess that would be better than leaving him in the hotel roo
m. I don’t know how he’d act without me in there,” she said.
“It’s settled then. What time do you have?” he asked. “I don’t carry a watch anymore.”
She checked her watch, “I’ve got 5:35,” she said.
“How about 6:15? Will that give you enough time?” he asked.
“Six-fifteen it is,” she said.
Jana Hastings called Beau and Jack Davenport called Tank. The two new acquaintances parted and went their separate ways. Jack watched the Mercedes pull out of the truck stop and watched it cross over to the hotel parking lot. He looked forward to a nice dinner and pleasant conversation with this woman.