American Crow

by Jack Lacey

  ‘Nope. Look’s clean.’

  ‘Why don’t we bring the dogs over to check the back? They’re just about finished with the rig Vernon’s looking at?’ the original voice questioned, sounding eager to double-check.

  The older man interrupted them.

  ‘Na, let’s call it a day on this one, guys. I’m hungry anyways. It’s getting to the end of our shift and the wife’s cooking meatballs tonight.’

  Silence.

  ‘Okay...screw the panel back on,’ the younger voice eventually ordered as if against his better judgement.

  I exhaled silently then listened to the whirring of nuts being screwed back into place, then Jed returning to the vehicle and starting the engine up again.

  ‘Have a nice evening, Officers,’ he said nonchalantly.

  I liked his style.

  ‘And you, sir,’ the younger one replied, as Jed released the breaks and pulled away into America.

  After another half-hour of cold, fumes and being shaken around like a nut in its shell, I was ready to kick my way out of the damned tank and throw myself into the road. Then just as I decided I couldn’t take a minute longer, I felt everything slow again, the rig pull up for a second time.

  I exhaled heavily and for a moment felt a surge of claustrophobia grab at me, desperate to escape my oily confines, desperate to move my body and shake off the cramp that was now clamping around every single muscle.

  It took around fifteen minutes for them to take the skirt off again, then a few minutes more to release the false panel above me from the tank. When it eventually lifted, I felt as if I were indeed being resurrected from the dead like a pharaoh.

  I blinked and stared at the two blurred faces in the torchlight, then lay there for a moment as flurry of thick snowflakes landed on my numb face.

  ‘How do you feel?’ Jed asked, scratching his sizeable beard.

  ‘Not great if I’m honest. Next time I think I’ll just take my chances and jump the fence.’

  The trucker laughed, more out of relief than anything I thought, before Max, who’d obviously come over the border independently, leaned over and gave me a hand up. I staggered slowly out from underneath the truck, then straightened my back, grimacing.

  ‘Thanks, Max.’

  ‘Close one that, Blake. We were lucky they didn’t do a dog search. They would have found you guaranteed.’

  I looked at both of them and pulled my scarf up over my mouth, trying to keep out the biting wind.

  ‘Someone up there was looking down on us, that was for sure,’ Jed added, fixing me with his manly stare. ‘In fact, I can’t remember the last time we got the full treatment. Makes me wonder if someone grassed us up back in England?’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t me or anyone my end, okay? I said, trying to get my circulation going again. ‘Lenny runs a tight operation I can assure you.’

  ‘Well someone did, I reckons,’ the trucker said, bristling with suspicion. I don’t get paid enough to put up with shit like that. You’re the last I’m shipping for a while, I can tell ya...’

  Max placed a hand on his shoulder trying to calm the vibe.

  ‘Maybe we’ve just been doing too many trips lately, Jed, we need to lay low for a bit?’

  The trucker grunted his approval and raised a thumb in the air.

  ‘Knows a good diner along the highway, just off the Fifty-Two. I could do with re-fuelling myself. How about youz? Got your stomach back, English guy?’

  I walked towards the cab, trying to shake off the ride still.

  ‘I could eat a roast dinner in a force nine, me. Lead the way...’

  Jed looked at me quizzically then started to bolt the chassis skirt back on with the help of the kid. I got in the cab and helped myself to one of his cigarettes trying to warm up, much to his displeasure judging from the intermittent looks he was shooting me. Not that I cared in that moment. He was paid to do a job like I was, and it certainly wasn’t fixing bodywork back on...

  I tried to let it go, but the trucker’s bad attitude kept gnawing away at me. The ride had nearly bloody killed me. What in the hell was he getting all worked up about? I wasn’t moaning about it...

  Fifteen minutes later, the panel was on and we were hammering down the interstate towards a brightly lit diner called ‘Mickey’s’, beckoning us in the distance like some sparkling winter oasis.

  Unfortunately, I soon discovered that it was just Jed and I for dinner, Max having decided it wasn’t prudent to hang around in case we were being tailed, leaving just myself and my new Neanderthal buddy for a ‘romantic’ dinner for two. I stared out of the window beginning to wish I was back in England, that I hadn’t been sweet-talked into doing another fucked-up job for Lenny.

  As we neared, Jed licked his lips, picked up his C.B radio, and put out a call.

  ‘This is Firefly, putting out the signal for anyone circling around Mickey’s off the Fifty-Two, who fancy’s a gallon of the black stuff, come-on-back.’

  I looked at him and just about managed to suppress my amusement. I’d got the feeling already that humour wasn’t his strong point, and that he wouldn’t appreciate any sort of ridicule no matter how humorous. The guy was like some cardboard cut-out from an eighties trucking movie. In fact, I think I’d done enough already to wind him up by helping myself to one of his cigarettes.

  In my tired state, any sort of argument was the last thing I wanted too. I needed to relax and recharge big time. When a reply eventually crackled through, I looked away and had to swallow my laughter.

  ‘This is Lady Phoenix,’ a female voice responded finally, sounding like Dolly Parton on steroids.

  ‘Been a while handsome...’

  ‘Yeah, been west, luggin lumber for the last month, Sweet Cheeks. Need to get reacquainted with your lovin’ I reckons.’

  She offered a flirtatious laugh.

  ‘See you over there, hunk. I’m right behind ya.’

  Jed turned to me and cracked a smile that plain unsettled me, then adjusted his crutch and pulled off the highway, fantasizing obviously about being pulled off himself I imagined.

  A few minutes later, the tyres were crunching their way across the frozen grit towards an old railway carriage that had been converted into a brightly-lit cafe. Jed jumped down from the cab and called up to me through the open door.

  ‘Come on, let’s go…they does the best waffles money can buy this end of the Mississippi.’

  Feeling apprehensive about the quality of the recommendation I followed him in, beginning to feel exhausted. Inside, I picked a front-facing booth while Jed went to the counter and flirted with the girl behind it. A few minutes later he returned with a pale-faced waitress in an unflattering outfit.

  ‘What’s you want?’ she said pulling a biro out from her hair and a notepad from her stained pocket.

  ‘A cup of coffee with milk, and eggs over hard on maple pancakes,’ I replied slowly, staring cross-eyed at the gargantuan menu.

  ‘You from Een-ga-land?’ she asked, trying to look all cute but failing badly.

  ‘Yes I am.’

  ‘Whereabouts?’ she said scribbling down my order.

  ‘London,’ I said flatly.

  ‘Hey, I’ze got a friend who lives there. Hees name is Charlie A-bra-hams. Do you know heem at all?’

  I looked at Jed and rolled my eyes.

  ‘No, there’s over seven million people who live there, love’ I said wearily, prompting her to turn on a dime in disgust.

  Jed leant towards me aggressively and puffed out his chequered shirt.

  ‘No need to be so damn rude, man. These are good people here. She was only being pol-iite.’

  We eye-balled each other for a few seconds and whilst Jed was noticeably wider and taller than me, with arms as thick as my legs, I had him on the stare.

  Ten minutes later I got the plate slammed down in front of me and the coffee spilt along with it. I shook my head bemused then tucked in as Jed ploughed his way through biscuits and gravy like he had
n’t eaten in a month.

  I watched him intermittently between mouthfuls eyeing the parking lot, anxious for his radio buddy to make an appearance and give him a servicing. The guy was an animal, and an animal who probably had a wife back home looking after a cluster of kids I mused, staring out at the heavy blizzard that was now beginning to sweep in.

  As Jed mopped up his plate, a bright neon-pink rig birthed through the white haze suddenly, like some mechanical monster from a computer game. It was carrying what looked like agricultural machinery.

  I watched in disbelief as it parked up and a muscular blonde jumped out with spray on jeans and a thick winter coat half-open, revealing her beetroot bust to the elements. Jed grunted his approval, stood up, adjusted his crutch again and looked down at me. His friend had arrived.

  ‘Guna take a peess. Might be some tiiime.’

  I nodded and enjoyed the rest of my coffee in silence as Jed followed the bubble butt of the female trucker straight to the toilets. While they were doing whatever they were doing, I scanned the place for trouble like I always did in new surroundings.

  There were around a dozen customers in the place I estimated. Some were sat in the booths in pairs, others just by themselves at the counter on high chrome stools, working their way through a variety of generous carb-heavy dishes. The only women in the joint that I could see were the two serving and the bit of rough that Jed had ensnared on the airwaves.

  I finished the rank coffee then waited ten minutes more for Jed to return from the restroom in vain. When it hit twenty, I started to fidget. When it got to the half-hour mark, I felt myself getting mildly annoyed. I cursed under my breath and ordered another coffee, anxious to get back on the road and get on with the case.

  I wanted to get to Minneapolis before sun up if possible, sort out a motel and recharge my batteries as much as I could. I had a lot of legwork planned for the following day and I didn’t want to be waiting on Jed while he nailed some pumped-up Barbie doll in the toilets…

  I worked my way through the second drink, then stood up seriously agitated and wandered through to the men’s room where I heard moans and grunts coming from the second cubicle along. They were still going at it hammer and tongs. Jesus...I walked over and cleared my throat, then heard laughter in response.

  ‘Jed...’

  I stood there self-consciously as they worked their way through a conveyor belt of carnal exchanges without reply, then contemplated my options as my anger levels started creeping into the red. A verbal confrontation wasn’t wise when I had to share a cab with the bloke for the next few hours that was for sure. I could do without that sort of atmosphere. Who knows how he would react too if I barged the door down...The guy was a Neanderthal.

  As the cubicle started to shake violently, I turned and headed out of the toilet and strolled back to the table trying to keep my frustration under control. If we had an argument in the cafe then the cops would be called. Bad move. For now, I was just going to have to bite my lip, stick to the plan and keep my nose out of trouble.

  I shook my head in continuing annoyance, then sat back down and stared out of the window as I thought about Laura for a second. She would have loved a road trip across the States, I was sure of it. Who knows, she might have even ended up in the same line of work as her father if she’d got bored of conservation. Jackie would have loved that...

  After another ten minutes had elapsed I decided I’d reached my limit with Jed. I stared at the table mindlessly trying to think of a new plan then suddenly saw the solution lying right in front of me. I put my jacket on, threw enough money on the table to cover the tab, picked up the trucker’s keys that he’d left next to his wallet, and walked calmly out into the parking lot.

  I’d driven rigs a few times over the years when I’d had too, so knew where everything pretty much was, but it took a good few minutes of adjusting the seat and scanning the instrument panel, before I sparked the meaty engine into life and crawled my way across the open space towards the exit sign with a self-satisfied smile plastered across my face.

  Just as I pulled onto the feeder road I glanced in the side-mirror and saw Jed come running out of the cafe too, like a madman on fire. I stared at him and yanked the cord on the air-horn, which sounded like an express train, then laughed my head off at his dumb expression as he neared the rear bumper.

  Seeing him about to grab hold, I increased my speed to put some distance between us, then pulled out onto the highway as effortlessly as if I’d been trucking all my life, gave him another blast on the horn for luck, then glanced back a final time to see him kneeling in the snow, now poetically freed of both of his loads.

  I’d find my way to the Twin Cities easy enough I mused, not that I cared in that moment. Jed had said himself that we just kept on heading south towards Duluth until we hit Route Thirty-Five, which would then pretty much take us all the way to Minneapolis. It all sounded reasonably straightforward.

  Now that the border crossing was out of the way, there shouldn’t be any more problems unless I got pulled up for speeding, and that wasn’t going to happen if I took it steady. I didn’t have to put up with Jed’s macho posturing either for the rest of the trip, which was a bonus. And he was hardly going to blag to the authorities since he’d been complicit in people-smuggling only a few hours before...

  I switched on the radio hoping it would clear my mind, trying to enjoy the moment of driving a big rig along a spacious highway in the snow. As if on cue some old Stone’s track came on air, the words ‘playing with fire’ echoing out ruefully in the cab.

  I hoped it wasn’t some sort of otherworldly message warning me that I was about to get seriously burnt if I continued, that I should just turn around while I still had the chance, because even if I did find the girl alive and well at the end of the trail, there wasn’t the remotest chance I’d find any personal redemption...

  Chapter Seven

  ‘the fight’

  Outskirts of Minneapolis, Minnesota. Early hours.

  There were four of them. Guys that was. Plus a girl sitting on a Harley, chewing gum with her mouth open. I hated that…the way she was sat on the bike as if she had no respect for it.

  I stared at the shadowy figure in the diner, holding the manager up by the throat as another raided the till. A third looked to be helping himself to a burger on the hot plate, while a fourth, a shorty dumpy guy with long hair, was standing by the door cosh in hand, in case any late-night passers-by fancied being a hero. And it was late. Around three in the morning by now I reckoned, a time when I should be enjoying my beauty sleep...

  I’d been woken up by their bikes circling the truck-stop around two, then dragged out of Jed’s manky sleeping bag a short time after, when a tirade of wild shouting sounded out close-by.

  I’d lain there for quite a while fighting the temptation to get involved, until I thought about the lone Somalian who’d served me some much needed food upon arrival. That annoyed me too. He had seemed a decent enough guy. He’d told me a bit about gang culture in Minneapolis and how rival Somali groups were always shooting each other up. Not him, he said. He was trying to raise a family, trying to raise enough cash to bring his sister over from Africa. The way it was looking now, she would only be coming over for his funeral...

  I scrambled down into the driver’s seat and edged closer to the icy windscreen, staring in disbelief at the unravelling scene opposite. The Somalian was out of sight now, probably lying unconscious in a pool of blood having taken a hit.

  To make matters worse, the guy who had been guarding the door was now circling the joint in a tight arc holding a fuel can, as if intent on igniting some wall of fire to frighten the manager inside half to death, or simply raise the place to the ground for kicks.

  I cursed. If they set the place alight then the cops would almost certainly be called, and I’d have to get the hell out of there to avoid being questioned as a witness. And that meant finding somewhere new to park up and getting very little sleep, again…
I decided quickly that it just wasn’t going to happen. I had my fill with Jed’s false fuselage and the long flight as it was. Enough was enough.

  Hurriedly I put my socks and shoes on, then rifled around the cab for something that would prove useful in case things kicked off. After a good few minutes of searching I found ‘something’ stuffed inside a deep side-pocket.

  And I’d learnt how to handle myself at an early age in the back-street boxing gyms of South London and on the football terraces with Millwall as a kid. It was all you needed to deal with most people unless they were bloody Bruce Lee, and now these idiots needed confronting to my way of thinking, before they burnt the whole damned joint down along with the Somalian in it.

  I finished getting dressed, then jumped down onto the compacted snow outside, pumped up as much as anyone could, suffering from jetlag and a two hour journey stowed underneath a damned juggernaut.

  The first thing I noticed when I scanned the frozen lot, was that the only other rig that had been there, had departed. Either because the driver had been scared off by the bikers knowing they’d be trouble, or he’d just made off early out of coincidence hoping to enjoy a clearer road.

  That just left mine as the only truck currently parked up. Any potential back-up had evaporated, and the bikers would know that. And that lack of an extra body could mean the difference between a fist fight or a stand-off, the difference between ending the night in a cell or returning to Jed’s sleeping bag. It could go either way...

  I decided to stop worrying about it and slammed the cab door shut loudly, prompting the girl on the bike to look around. Instantly she shouted out a warning to the biggest guy in a blue bandana, who then stared out through the window, while he shook the Somalian like a rag doll inside, having picked him up again to meat out some more rough treatment.

  I walked the hundred yards towards the group like John Wayne, showing them that I wasn’t intimidated, that I wasn’t in a rush to deal with the situation, readying myself mentally, so that I would be the first to react in case things kicked off.