by Gail Sattler
He didn’t meet many of the drivers’ wives. They tended to stay in the trucks, hiding from the surly drivers. Sometimes, though, some of the drivers brought girlfriends who openly tried to impress their men. Often they tried to impress any man in sight, and they dressed accordingly. Of course, the truck stop “lizards” always caked on their makeup and they all wore provocative clothing to lure the men. The entire package sickened him.
He had spent many hours praying for those women, unable to understand why anyone would want to live a life so full of sin. Both before and after he made his career choice as a truck driver, he’d seen this tragedy repeated often. He hadn’t been raised in a Christian home, but he had been taught right from wrong. Since becoming a Christian in his early twenties, his heart had always gone out to women who would throw themselves away like that.
Gwen didn’t act like she cared if she impressed anyone. She obviously didn’t care if she impressed him, in particular, even though by now Lionel was certain Chad had told Gwen he was single. That fact didn’t seem to make a difference, and he was relieved.
On their walk back, after seeing Gwen to her motel room last night, Chad had made a point of telling him Gwen was single too. Lionel had replied that, quite honestly, he had no interest in a relationship, including and especially one with Chad’s niece.
Chad checked his watch. “We should have been moving half an hour ago. Let’s get going.”
They made a quick check of the pins, trailer seals, brakes, and the air lines and were soon ready to go. Gwen hoisted herself up into the driver’s seat, and Chad climbed slowly into the passenger side, stretched, and settled in, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. It wasn’t the way Lionel would have felt if a beginner were driving his truck.
Slowly the truck inched to the highway entrance. At least this time she didn’t stall the engine.
The truck entered the highway, jerking and speeding up a little more each time she shifted until finally reaching the posted highway speed limit. Soon he was driving behind them, which was where he wanted to be in case they had trouble.
He didn’t hear from them on the CB all morning, although he didn’t think it was because she was too scared to operate the radio while driving. Instead, he suspected Chad was explaining things as they were going.
The first time he heard from them was lunchtime, and that was only long enough to learn they were pulling off at the next rest area for a sandwich. Lionel always anticipated the first lunch stop on a new trip if he was traveling with Chad. Chad’s wife stocked his fridge with all sorts of yummy treats, and Chad always shared. Eating at too many greasy-spoon restaurants over the years had given him an appreciation for a nice cold sandwich and fresh fruit, especially if it was from the fruit trees in Chad’s back yard.
When he pulled in, Gwen and Chad already had a few bags containing their lunch piled on one of the picnic tables.
“Aunt Chelsea sure makes a great lunch. Now I remember where I learned to pack the fridge in the camper in a way that makes use of every single square inch of space. Who wants a strawberry?”
He noticed she didn’t wait for a reply before placing a sandwich and a small handful of strawberries on each of three plates. She left the rest in the tub in the center of the table.
Lionel stared down at their lunches. “Paper plates? We’re eating on paper plates?”
“Oops, I forgot the napkins.”
“Napkins?”
When Gwen ran back to the truck, Chad turned and whispered to him, “The wife included them this time, for Gwen.”
Gwen hustled back and handed out napkins, along with pieces of cake, each on a fresh paper plate, a plastic fork tucked neatly on the side. “This is just like camping, except I wash dishes instead of using disposable stuff. It’s more environmentally friendly.”
Lionel picked up one of the utensils in question. “Plastic forks too?” He shook his head. “Gwen, we travel as light as possible, and that doesn’t include tableware. We eat fast, so the sandwich doesn’t get put down, and the same with the cake. Then we just go.”
“If you eat too fast, you’ll get indigestion.”
“I’ve never had indigestion, and I’ve been doing this for ten years.”
“Then you’re just lucky.”
“Luck’s got nothing to do with it. I’m perfectly capable of eating sensibly, and I do, most of the time.”
“Do you know the four basic food groups?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Bread, dairy, meat, and fruit and vegetables. Do you brush your teeth after every meal?”
She stuck up her chin at him, scrunched up her nose, and bared her teeth at him.
Lionel barely suppressed his laugh. She could give it right back to him, and he liked that. “Okay. But do you floss?” he asked. “And do you—”
Chad raised one hand, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. “Stop bickering and let’s eat.”
After a short prayer of thanks, they ate.
Most of the women he knew picked and nibbled at their food, but when Gwen ate, she ate every bit as fast as he did, and she ate just as much. Yesterday, when they stopped for supper, he couldn’t help but notice how much she’d eaten. Now he was wondering if this wasn’t unusual for her.
Their hands bumped as they both reached for the last strawberry.
He grinned. “Who gets the last one?”
The second he hesitated, she grabbed it and popped it into her mouth. “Me. If you snooze, you lose. I put everything out, so you clean up. I’m making a trip to the little girls’ room.”
Before he could protest, she was gone.
Chad snickered beside him. “Did I tell you that her brother usually doesn’t have a chance?”
Lionel looked down at the empty tub. “Thanks for the warning.”
Again Lionel followed them down the highway, but this time they chatted on the CB. For awhile they discussed an interesting topic her pastor had brought up at the last church service. He was surprised and pleased when she offered to leave a tape of that particular sermon in his mail slot at the home terminal when she got back. Spending most weekends on the road, he couldn’t attend church services as often as he would have liked. Whenever he could, he tried to be at one of the truck stops which scheduled informal, non-denominational services.
They drove straight through to Billings, arriving at the rest area on the edge of town as the sun was setting. Chad had made coffee before they arrived for a last quick break together, because from here they would be going separate ways.
Gwen hopped out of the driver’s side, reached her arms to the sky, and twisted her back. She froze and blushed when she caught Lionel watching. “I guess I’m not used to sitting for so long.”
He smiled. “You get used to it. The seats are constructed with good back support, and some have special custom adjustments. Still, it helps to get out and walk around whenever you can to try and stay in shape.”
She pressed her fists into the small of her back and arched. “I can see that. A walk sounds like a good idea. Who wants to go?”
Chad shook his head as he settled in with his coffee. “Not me. I like being fat and out of shape.”
Lionel looked around the nearly deserted park. He didn’t think it was a good idea for a woman to be walking alone in a place like this at nightfall, but he suspected she would go anyway. “I could probably use a stretch. I’ll go with you.”
They helped themselves to the coffee and began their walk with mugs in hand.
“How was your first day driving?”
“Good. My last couple of shifts I never missed a gear. But truck driving is a lot different than what I expected.”
Lionel figured as much. Most of the girlfriends and wives who came along only wanted to see the countryside. Since she was a teacher with the summer off, he suspected Gwen was expecting to experience a cross-continental summer vacation and get paid for it as a bonus. “Most women find that,” he said.
“I knew a lot of people drove like idiots around the trucks, but I had no idea it was this bad. They have no concept of just how big or how heavy that truck is, and because of that, how long it takes to stop. We can’t make split-second maneuvers. They just think we can simply turn the wheel and zip out of the way for them when they do something stupid.”
Her response caught him off guard. He had been expecting her to say something about not being able to stop and check out the scenery. “Summer is the worst season for bad drivers.”
“Uncle Chad said the same thing. Some guy, with his wife beside him and a car full of kids in the back seat, just whipped in front of me and cut me off when it took him longer to pass than he thought. Then he got mad when I was too close to his bumper until I could slow down. You should have seen him, I could tell he was swearing at me. Then the kids poked their heads in the back window and stuck their insolent little tongues out at me.”
He sipped his coffee. “Unfortunately, that kind of thing happens all the time.”
She turned to him and smiled. Even in the twilight, she had a lovely smile. His heartbeat picked up speed and his throat tightened.
“Yeah. Uncle Chad calls them four-wheelers. That’s so funny.”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Real funny.”
He listened to her expound on her driving experiences of the day, but rather than hearing what she said, he paid more attention to how she said it. Instead of carrying on like a kid with a new toy, albeit a rather big toy, she was making comments he could relate to as a fellow driver. Her thoughts and impressions were the same as his own on his first few trips.
Chad’s voice echoed from the distance. “Come on, you two! Time to get moving!”
Gwen giggled. It was a lovely, happy sound. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yak your ear off.”
They hustled back to the trucks, and he noted this time Chad was driving. They entered the highway, and at the intersection he replied to the blast of their air horn with a short blast from his, and turned right while Chad and Gwen continued.
He wanted to turn on the CB but didn’t since in only a few minutes they would be out of range. The silence disturbed him more than it ever had before. For the first time in ten years, Lionel felt lonely.
He turned on the radio louder than usual and headed for Casper.
Gwen ran her finger down the map. “We’re almost there. Lionel said he’d be at Salt Lake City about ten, so we’re right on time.”
Uncle Chad applied the Jake brake to slow the engine. “Yes, but it was strange of Lionel to send an E-mail. I can’t remember the last time I got one from him.”
“Really? I thought you would be in contact with him a lot.”
“No. Remember, we didn’t become truck drivers because of our typing skills.”
Gwen couldn’t hold back her laughter. The last few days were an education like she had never imagined. After they’d delivered their first load, even though she knew they wouldn’t be dispatched straight back to home, she’d expected to at least head in that direction. Instead, they’d been sent to some place in Iowa, and then to Denver. Finally they were heading in the right direction, even if they wouldn’t be back to Vancouver and her nice soft bed for another three or four days. More than her bed, what she most looked forward to was her bathtub, and after that her mother’s strawberries.
The truck stops had functional showers where the drivers could see to their personal needs and then move on, without necessarily sleeping. She compared it to a library, where a person would borrow a book, relax for a short while, and then leave. Renting a shower seemed strange. However, since the drivers basically lived in their trucks, there was definitely a need for such amenities.
While most of the truckers she met were generally friendly, many had trouble with the idea of a woman being part of a driving team. She also found a great many of them lacking in social skills. Her uncle tried to take their stopovers in the Christian-oriented truck stops when they could, but when traveling in a straight line to make time, they often didn’t have any choice when they stopped.
For this trip, when they stopped for the night, she slept in the motels or rented a room at the truck stop and Uncle Chad slept in the truck. Next trip, they would be taking turns, one sleeping while the other drove, like a real doubles team.
“He beat us. There’s his truck.”
Gwen raised her head. Although the highway was dark, the parking lot of the truck stop was well lit. The outside temperature was still more than comfortably warm. Instead of waiting for them inside the coffee shop, Lionel was sitting on his running board, his legs stretched out, his head leaning back against the part of the cab that stuck out where the sleeper began. She wondered if he was sleeping, because she’d been learning, the hard way, to rest in strange places and positions whenever time permitted.
“Gwen, Honey, I’m not feeling great. I think I need a little sleep. You go in with Lionel and I’ll grab some Zs in here.”
“Are you okay? You’re not coming down with something, are you?”
He shook his head. “Probably not. Your aunt Chelsea packed me a new bottle of vitamin C, so I’ll take a few and lie down. Now go stretch your legs.”
She didn’t want to leave him alone but had to trust that he’d been doing this all his life and knew what he was doing. She hopped out of the truck and approached Lionel, who opened his eyes and stood when she neared his truck.
“Hi,” she said.
Lionel stood and brushed some dirt off his jeans. “Hi, yourself. How’s the driving today?”
They started walking toward the building. “Really good. It’s so amazing, the number of miles we’ve done in such a short time.”
He held the door to the coffee shop open for her and they walked to a small table in the center of the restaurant. The waitress poured their coffees, described the specials of the day, and left them with menus.
Gwen studied the menu. It hadn’t been that long since she had eaten supper, but she was already hungry. While she decided whether she should have a muffin or go all out and have a hamburger and fries, she tried to ignore the loud group of men at the next table. Normally, she wouldn’t have paid attention, and she hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but a few of the men were being so obnoxious she couldn’t help but overhear. When one of them commented on his wife at home and, in the next sentence, mentioned his girlfriend in another town, Gwen’s blood went cold.
“I know. It bugs me too.”
She looked up at Lionel. His mouth was drawn into a tight line, and he was holding his menu far tighter than necessary.
“Uncle Chad and I spent a lot of time talking about stuff like that. I know it’s not an easy lifestyle, but they’ve both remained faithful for over thirty years.”
“Most men are. It’s guys like that joker at the next table who make me sick.”
Gwen glanced up at Lionel. She saw more than righteous anger in his eyes. She saw pain. Infidelity, the breaking of the ultimate trust in another human being, always angered Gwen. Fortunately, she had never been involved in a relationship where she had been personally hurt by unfaithfulness, although the first time she’d met Robbie, who later married her brother, that was exactly what had happened to Robbie. From Lionel’s bleak expression, she wondered if he had also experienced the same thing. She wished she knew him well enough to talk about it.
“Hey, buddy!” A man with a tattoo of a snake on his forearm rested his elbow on the table next to them and leaned closer to their table. “Wanna introduce me to the little lady?”
Gwen stiffened.
Lionel didn’t move as he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “Get lost.”
“Maybe she’s not a lady.”
His grip on the menu tightened even more. “She’s more of a lady than you’ve ever met.”
The man leaned back in his chair and tilted his head to comment to the rest of his friends at the table. “Hey, guys. He doesn’t want to share.”
Gwen couldn’t believe
what she was hearing. The worst part was that they were talking about her. She didn’t know what to do, so she remained silent.
Lionel slapped his menu on the table. “She’s a driver, not someone who would get involved with slime like you.”
The man called out a crude comment and the rest of the men with him laughed uproariously. Lionel’s face hardened even more and he started to open his mouth, but Gwen feared what might come out and, worse, that once he said something, a fight would start. She quickly laid her hand on Lionel’s wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Ignore them,” she whispered between her teeth. “Let’s just go.”
His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened.
“I mean it. I wasn’t hungry anyway. Let’s go.”
He slapped enough money on the table to cover the cost of the two cups of coffee and they both stood.
A wolf whistle pierced her ears. The man made a very crude comment about her figure as she walked away.
Lionel’s pace hesitated in front of her, but Gwen stopped dead in her tracks. Anything Lionel said at this point would instigate a fight, but as a woman she could get away with telling the man she didn’t appreciate his comments. She whirled around, stomped to their table, and smacked her palm down onto the checkered surface.
“Say that to my face. But before you do, know that I am a Christian. I live my life the way God wants me to, and I’m happy. Because of God’s love and what His Son, Jesus Christ, did for me, I know where I’m going when my days on earth are over. Do you? Think about it. Do you have the strength to do anything other than show off to these guys from the safety of a crowd? Let me tell you something, tough guy,” she sneered and leaned closer to his face. “When you’re not shooting off your big mouth in front of these other tough guys, think of your wife, who you’ve cast aside like garbage. Do you think she’ll stand beside you and support you when you’re old and weak? Will these guys be with you then? Will anyone? I know Jesus is with me, every minute of every day. He’s always there. I’ll be praying for you.”
