Always a Brother

by Michael Shenk

  Isaac was not bluffing, but was serious about his words. After working with Johnny several months, she realized the big quiet man, who she had seen toss a heavy truck tire up onto the deck of the service truck with ease, had brains as well as strength. But when he was riled, as she had seen him once when a trucker had run a car off the road, the big man could be very, very intimidating.

  Pulling into the shop yard, home base, as she liked to call it, she decided to take up Melissa’s offer, and join her for a late dinner. The woman made her feel safe. Terry hoped the boys would be there too. They were hilarious, especially when both were home.

  As she parked her truck and did her post-trip check, she thought about the three offers of lodging from her closest friends in Vanderhoof. Isaac of course, but Mary Amund had also asked her to consider their spare room, and Chet Banks had urged her to live with them. “This house is huge, lots of room. We’d be honored to have you.” And not only lodging, free lodging. She hit the remote start on her pickup as she walked to the shop to check in and ask someone to look at her malfunctioning trailer lights. It was good to have friends who had become her new family in a few short months.

  Isaac was gone. “Somewhere up the Francis,” Pete told her. The shop had an empty bay, and Pete headed out to bring in her truck, assuring her it was fine that she hadn’t brought it in herself. “Shop’s usually full this time of day. Don’t worry about it. I need the fresh air anyway. Sure, is nice to be back at work, though, even if I’m doing a lighter shift.”

  The Banks’ home was deserted when she arrived, but she saw a note on the door. She peeled the paper off the door, reading the terse message as she entered the warm house.

  Dinner in the fridge, put in oven at 350 while you take a bubble bath. Back at 8:00

  And she followed the directions, although she took the time to retrieve a bag with clean clothes from her pickup before going down the hall to the shower. She smiled again when she saw the note on the bathroom door.

  Guys, if you get home before me, stay out!!! Use another bathroom, or the great outdoors like you always do. Love, Mom.

  There was a scented candle burning. The bathroom was perfectly clean. Several fluffy towels and a basket of bath bombs were arranged on the counter, along with various shampoos and soaps. Several magazines were rolled up and tied with ribbons, beside a bowl of roses in gel beads. A number of tea lights were waiting to be lit.

  Terry smiled and began to fill the large tub, looking forward to a relaxing bath and a hot meal. Turning off the main lights and basking in the glow of a dozen tiny candles, she was touched, understanding Melissa’s desire for feminine contact in the mostly male world in which she lived.

  Melissa had returned home in time to save the dozing Terry’s meal. Now with the lights back on, eating chicken cordon bleu with a vegetable casserole on the side, Terry read through the fashion magazine, smiling at the contrast of the clothes to those she normally wore to work. She ran more hot water, steam curling visibly through the ceiling fan, warmth and humidity welcome after a winter day spent in the dry, cold winter air of central BC.

  She dropped another bath bomb into the water, this one sizzling and bubbling, gold flakes floating in the water. Terry considered the difference between this and her first Vanderhoof accommodations at the motel. It certainly made her think of accepting the Banks’s offer.

  Later in her apartment, skin and soul glowing, Terry felt herself relaxing as she slid into bed. Even the warm-from-the-oven chocolate cake she had enjoyed with Melissa couldn’t keep her from falling quickly asleep. Maybe there would be no bad dreams, at least for tonight.

  Chapter 41

  Toronto was one of the largest cities in North America with close to three million people crammed into its diverse metropolitan area, so when Joseph-Francois left his dead brother’s apartment and braved the grit-filled gusts late one February afternoon, he expected to see many people, but none that he knew. He had spent hours each day in the last several months honing his French accent and needed to go out and practice, to compare his speech to the French-Canadian accent spoken in many places in Toronto.

  His mind felt numb from the hours spent shut alone in his room, thin door unable to block the constant and raucous noise from his dead brother’s four children and the corrections of their mother and countless aunts and cousins and others who came for regular visits.

  To avoid suspicion, he had spent some time with the family, gaming with the older kids, paying for meals delivered by local restaurants, saying hello to the more important guests.

  Some of his work was legitimate, the online trading he had begun out of abject boredom had augmented his sizable stash of funds, some through blind luck and other transactions through knowledge of the energy and mining sector.

  On this evening, Francois left his temporary home for some contact with people, to practice his language skills, and to maybe meet a woman. This was a calculated risk, he knew, but in city of this size the chances of meeting a business acquaintance or former associate was millions to one. He had grown his hair longer and had it cut differently, and he wore glasses instead of contacts, the thick, multi-colored frames similar to a thousand other men in the city.

  He practiced for hours in the mirror, watching his own eyes, preparing to ignore a greeting such as, “Hey, Joseph, how’s it going’!” or worse yet, “Greetings, Tamaz!” preparing to ignore anyone he may have known before; an acquaintance from the oil patch, or heaven forbid, someone from his homeland.

  “Francois, Francois, I am Francois.” He repeated this in his mind, ready to use his new ID, newly arrived in the mail. He ran through scenarios; Someone bumps into me on the bus, what will I say? How will I respond to “unfamiliar” words in English? What food will I order in a restaurant?

  The man was sick of restraint, disgusted with studying language, tired of being patient. He wanted to hang out with some good people, eat a delicious Canadian steak and watch a hockey game with friends. He wanted to relax and live for a while. The loud nephews were even louder hockey fans, and hearing the games blaring on the screen in the other room was torturous, especially when the game was happening only several kilometers away!

  “Patience. Use greed wisely. What is the real goal?” His thoughts were mechanical, but the mantra repeated in his room seemed to lose its meaning in the real world.

  “The heck with it!” Tamaz-Joseph-Francois thought in a very Albertan manner. “I’m going to the hockey game.” And ditching all pretense of being anyone but exactly who he was, he caught a bus and lost himself in the crowd on the way to Air Canada Centre.

  Johnny was quickly learning the complexities of a logging operation in the final months of the season. With the chance of an early spring breakup, and the mills predicting an early close to the scales, the Banks Mountain operation was in full swing but not as efficiently as Johnny had hoped. His admiration of Chet and Melissa Banks grew daily as he realized they had done the job on their own for many years.

  The task itself seemed simple: harvest the timber allotted to their company, haul it to the scale yard where it was assigned value, and receive deposits in the company accounts with which to make payroll, payments, and necessary repairs and purchases.

  Breakdowns, employee turnover, delayed arrival of replacement parts, and bad roads were just some of the variables Johnny was learning to deal with. While the personnel running the logging equipment had stayed constant during the winter months, the increased number of trucks and drivers needed to haul the felled trees was becoming a problem.

  Banks Mountain had eleven trucks of their own and was currently short a driver. Chet had contracted much of the hauling out to another ten owner-operators, mostly from other parts of the province, and wanted a few more. Johnny was in charge of ensuring the subs drove to the safety standards of the company, and a few of the out-of-town drivers didn’t feel the unfamiliar standards were necessary. This had the big man frustrated and he went to Melissa for advice.

&nbs
p; “Just keep working on it, Johnny,” Melissa had said when he showed up at her door. “The out-of-towners are unfamiliar with the roads, the mill, our standards, everything. Most of them were out of work in their home towns or lost their contracts. I would expect that they are nervous and worried they may not measure up. Just keep working on it.” she repeated, “Expect them to listen, and feel free to fire anyone you think is unsafe. We trust your judgment.”

  She had walked with him out to his pickup. “I know you’re concerned we won’t get all the wood to the sawmill. Of course, we are worried, too. We all want things to run smoothly. But Chet and I have learned that things don’t always go as planned. So, we just do the best we can and deal with the problems as they come.”

  Johnny felt better driving back to the shop, taking time to down a sandwich and a bottle of water. The short drive was even better when he took a call from Mary who was on her break. She told him excitedly about a new manager who had transferred in, “a super nice lady, and her husband is a trucker! He’ll be moving here next week and looking for work!”

  He asked Mary to give his contact info to the woman to pass on to her husband right away, and then they chatted for a few minutes about weekend plans.

  When his phone chimed later, he saw a text from Isaac La Crosse, asking him to call as soon as possible. Dialing, he wondered how Isaac would answer the phone.

  “Thanks for calling, I’m stuck in Prince George.”

  Isaac had driven one of the trucks to the dealership for warranty work, and the two-hour job had turned into something bigger.

  “These guys are letting me use an empty shop bay to do some work myself, but they forgot to order the parts for the warranty job, so it won’t get done ‘til tomorrow. They’re buying dinner, so if you boogie in real quick to pick me up, I’ll make sure you get a free dinner, too.”

  Johnny smiled to himself. It sure was like Isaac. The guy had friends everywhere. Not every business would let someone else work on his own truck in their shop. Johnny had other business he could do in Prince George anyway, so he let Pete know what he was doing, put on his headset, and aimed the big Chevy east on Highway 16.

  Johnny made a quick call to Chet. The boss was enjoying his new-found freedom from all the coordinating duties and was having some fun running equipment whenever he could, a big kid in a bigger sandbox. Johnny knew Chet had been talking about adding several new trucks and wanted to be prepared for a conversation with a sales rep at the dealership.

  Mary was busy at the store and couldn’t make the trip with him. On the weekend she was going to Edmonton for a “horse thing” with friends, driving Johnny’s pickup so she could tow a trailer home for her friend. She was so excited for the trip Johnny couldn’t help but be happy for her but was surprised to find how much he didn’t like the idea of missing a weekend together.

  Several weeks earlier he had been invited on a snowmobiling trip and had declined, simply to spend time with Mary. He hadn’t mentioned this to her and felt solid about his decision. But now, he called his buddy and let him know he could join him after all. He was happy with this decision too.

  Chapter 42

  At noon on Friday, Mary and her two friends who Johnny described as “certifiable horse people” left for Alberta, excited for their upcoming adventure. Mary accelerated up the road, knowing her husband would enjoy the sound of the loud exhaust and the turbo charger, as well as the satisfying cloud of black smoke that was slowly drifting across the road in her rear-view mirror. Johnny watched them leave, and then drove back to the shop in Mary’s car, smiling as he thought of her departure.

  She had hugged him, finishing with a devastating kiss. “See you next week.” The simple sentence bolstered by a deliberate wink and a quick grab of his butt. Her friends had enjoyed the show, making inappropriate comments as they tossed their gear in the back seat.

  Johnny’s day got even better when he hired the new trucker. The man seemed dependable, had experience, and was eager to work. With enough drivers for the coming week, and anticipating a snowmobiling adventure, the afternoon went quickly as Johnny and Pete replaced a broken spring pack and replaced the fifth wheel assembly on Johnny’s old Peterbilt.

  Isaac had been out on a service call and stormed into the shop with news of “a major food shortage in my little world,” inviting them to join him for “the biggest burger in town in half an hour” disappearing into the shower room where he was soon singing heartily, drowning out the radio.

  Pete left for home early, pausing near the door, and with an uncharacteristic impish grin, he momentarily turned off the hot water supply. The brief lull in the singing was punctuated with several choice words aimed at Johnny and Jason. They met at Charlie’s Bar and Grill, their favorite – albeit misnamed – family restaurant. While waiting for food to arrive, Johnny got a call from his snowmobiling buddy who now was unable to hit the mountains on Sunday. Johnny asked Isaac if he wanted to go, but the Clockmaker had previous plans. He turned to Jason, and to his surprise, Jason was glad for the invitation, just needed to be back at work by Monday.

  “My dad and brother are riding in Wells this weekend, and they were hoping I could join them.” Jason was excited. “But I told them Johnny was letting me work overtime on Saturday, and old Toyota doesn’t want to make the trip for just one day.”He looked at Johnny. “But dude, if I can ride down with you, it’s all good!”

  Johnny was amused, and winked at Isaac, who asked, “What are you going to ride? You have a sled?”

  They guessed Jason didn’t know what he was in for; riding in the high country was challenging even for experienced riders.

  “Dad said he would let me use his old machine if I got down there. I’ll just call him quick and ask him to bring the sled for me.”

  As the young guy leaned over his phone, thumbs busy, Johnny raised his eyebrows at Isaac, wishing he hadn’t invited Jason. The thought of a novice on an old machine tackling the remote mountains at Wells was not pretty. Jason left when his phone rang.

  As the food was set on the table, Isaac shook his head. “I don’t know, dude,” he said, mimicking Jason. “At least you don’t have to babysit him. He will be with his dad and brother. You can go off and do your own thing, but take a tow rope; could be a long day.”

  Jason came back excited. Stuffing a fry in his mouth, he announced his good news. “Just caught them. They’ll load up the extra sled and bring it for me. When we get there, we can stay in the camper, free night, dude!” He looked at Johnny. “Unless you wanted to stay somewhere else.”

  Isaac grinned at Johnny, who took a manly bite of the house burger and closed his eyes. Charlie may be missing a bar, but the grill made up for it! Johnny nodded. He already had arrangements, so if the camper looked bad, he could just drop off the apprentice and head to his prearranged accommodations.

  “Sounds good. If we leave at three o’clock, we can be there by eight, easy.”

  Jason dug in to his meal, looking happy. Johnny didn’t know for sure where Jason was from, the Calgary area somewhere. Jason hadn’t talked much about his home, although they knew he liked fishing and four-wheeling, sports, and other outdoor pursuits.

  Saturday was pure frustration. Parts didn’t come in, Jason started removing the fuel tank on the wrong truck, and the half-ton Ford they were going to drive to Wells was nowhere to be found. At 2:00 pm Chet dropped off the half-ton, out of gas and with a flat tire. There was no spare.

  Finding a loose tire behind the shop Johnny used an ancient set of tire irons to wrestle the old tire off and the “new” tire onto the rim. Seating the tire to the rim using a generous spray of starting fluid and a tossed match impressed Jason. “Nothing better than an explosion to get a job done, dude!” Transportation restored, they locked up the shop, Jason going to find a spare tire from the collection at Isaac’s house and Johnny leaving to feed horses and get cleaned up at home. When Jason pulled in well after their planned departure time, Johnny had his Ski-Doo strapped into the
pickup and his gear in a storage container.

  Snow was falling heavily and the half-ton with its motley collection of old tires did not handle well on the winter road. Jason promptly went to sleep, and Johnny listened to the radio during the drive south, missing the comfort of his personal pickup.

  Pulling into Quesnel, Johnny stopped for fuel and food, eyes sore from staring into the driving snow. Jason, who had woken on the downhill drive into the small city, was worried about the road conditions.

  “That was some rough visibility. Want me to drive on to Wells?” Johnny was pumping gas.

  “No, I’m good.” He handed Jason a twenty. “You wanna grab me a bag of food?” He nodded toward the fast food restaurant across the lot.

  Jason pushed the money away. “No, don’t worry about it. I’m buying.” He pulled a folded sheet of coupons from his back pocket. “Mrs. B gave these to me, said they came in the mail. She’s one nice lady.”

  Johnny smiled to himself as the apprentice disappeared into the restaurant. You just couldn’t help liking the kid, though he was about finished with being called “dude”. Jason’s smooth face and wiry frame made him look smaller and younger than he was. Johnny had watched him throwing a Frisbee in the yard with the Banks boys and saw that Jason could move like a cat. He finished fueling the tank and checked the air pressure in the pickup tires.

  Jason came out with several bags of food while Johnny was adding air to the last tire.

  “Now she’s going to handle a little better. None of the tires had the same amount of air.” Jason tossed him a bag and climbed in the truck.

  “I thought truckers always checked their tires and crap before a trip, not almost at the end?” He stuffed half a burger into his mouth and spoke around it. “No wonder Isaac used to call you guys clowns!”

  Johnny laughed. “Yeah, no kidding. I think I’m out of practice. My eyes are tired from just three hours or so with snow coming at us. Used to do it all day long. But, hey, we’ve got less than one hundred kilometers to go, should only take an hour and a half if the roads aren’t too bad.”