My Name Is River Blue

by Noah James Adams

  With her father fuming in his home office, Carlee called Papa and asked if his offer for her to live with us was still good. He told her she was welcome to stay as long as she needed, and if she wanted to stay through college, he would work out a deal with her. Papa was still without a cook and housekeeper because he was so fussy about who he had in his house. Carlee was happy to accept the job in return for room and board plus a small salary, which would keep her from using her trust fund. The deal was even more attractive to her because I was living at the farm. My first thought was how great it would be having Carlee live with us, and my second thought was how angry it would make her father.

  It was a good thing that Carlee's parents gave her the Lexus for graduation after she turned eighteen. Since she was the registered owner, Big Bill couldn't legally stop her from packing the car full of her possessions before she left home. Trying to maintain a relationship with her daughter, Mrs. Summers offered to bring the rest of Carlee's things to the farm the following day when her husband was gone.

  When Tyler and I helped Carlee unload her car, we laughed all the way to her bedroom upstairs in Papa's house. We guessed that she must have been pissed when she packed the car because she threw her clothes everywhere. It was amusing to watch Tyler's red face as he carried an armful of Carlee's loose panties and bras.

  ***

  In late August, about a week before classes began at BCC, Carlee wanted us to take a shopping trip up to Cherokee Creek Outlet Mall, which was a group of discount name brand clothing stores located off the same interstate that ran by Harper Springs. As usual, Carlee drove. If I had to ride more than thirty minutes, someone else drove because of my back. Sitting, especially in a car, put too much pressure on my lower spine, and I couldn't increase my pain medicine without diminishing my driving skills.

  By ten o'clock in the morning, Carlee and I were halfway to the mall. The rush hour had ended, and the traffic on the four-lane interstate was light unless we were passing exits. As usual, her father had called her twice already. Since a few days after she moved out of his house, Big Bill had called her several times a day every day, and she never answered him.

  The sky was blue and cloudless with brilliant sunshine, and the temperature was much cooler than normal for August in the South. I was experiencing less pain than usual, and the best thing was that Carlee and I were together. At the time, our relationship was much like the weather in that we were all blue sky and sunshine. It was the first and only time that I have ever been in love.

  I needed a few more items of clothing for school and work, but I could have found what I needed at reasonable prices in Harper Springs. The day before our shopping trip, when Carlee said that I needed some new clothes, and that I should go with her to the outlet mall, I made the mistake of suggesting that we go to one of the local discount stores where I normally found good bargains I could afford. From her facial expression, I gathered that my suggestion was disgusting. She took a few seconds to recover before she spoke. Ever since our fight when she showed her snobbery over my room in Tolley House and Ant's smelly workout clothes, she chose her words carefully.

  "River, if you go with me to the outlet mall, you can find brand name clothes that are of much better quality than what you get at one of the discount stores in Harper Springs. You may pay a little more, but the clothes will look much better and last longer. In another week, you're going to be working at the high school and starting college. You really need to start dressing a little better, because fair or not, people who can affect your life will be influenced by the way you present yourself. Cheap tee shirts and jeans won't be appropriate for every situation."

  "I understand, but I don't see paying extra money just so snobs will know that I didn't shop at the cheapest place."

  "The outlet mall is not like a fine clothing shop or even an upscale department store. If I wanted to look snobbish, I certainly wouldn't shop the stores there. People go to the outlet mall for bargains, the same reason you go to the discount stores. The difference is that the bargains I get are on better quality clothes."

  "Okay," I said. It wasn't worth arguing. If I found the clothes at the outlet mall were too expensive for my tastes, I wouldn't buy much. I could always say that I didn't find anything that I liked.

  "River, I can tell when you're pacifying me, and I want you to keep an open mind. You're the first person that the school board has agreed to employ while you complete the normal requirements for your position, and there will be some critical people on the staff. To them, it's not fair. They will say that you don't meet the qualifications, and you're too young. Unfortunately, some are bigots who would discriminate against you anyway. You can't afford to dress like a student if you want anyone at the high school to take you seriously. Don't you think it will be hard enough for you without the added pressure that comes from critical co-workers who might influence your boss's view of you?"

  Carlee had a good point. I had been worrying about the other teachers and coaches taking me seriously, but I hadn't thought of taking any steps to show them that I was serious about the job. With working part-time at the school, helping Papa, and taking my own classes, Carlee was right. I had enough to stress me. I was already very worried that I wouldn't be able to handle the pain of a busy day.

  "Yeah, I get it," I said. "I'm there, okay." I gave her a kiss and thanked her for thinking about me. Carlee liked little kisses, and she enjoyed my appreciation when she taught me something that good parents would teach their child. There were many times when Carlee showed me a different way of looking at something, and I knew that she wasn't ridiculing me, but only trying to help me.

  When Carlee and I approached the city, the interstate became six lanes of slower traffic because of cars that had to reduce speed to take one of the exits. About two miles before we were to turn off onto the road leading to the outlet mall, a tractor-trailer passed us on Carlee's side and then cut sharply into the lane in front of us. If Carlee had not been alert enough to brake quickly, we would have had an accident. It was a stupid thing for the other driver to do and accomplished nothing with the slower traffic still in front of him. Since the accident that killed Ant and changed my life, reckless drivers angered me, and at that moment, I wanted to drag the trucker out of his cab and kick his butt.

  "What an asshole!" I said to Carlee. "Doesn't he have any clue what he could cause?"

  "It gets worse. I think my father owns the trucking company."

  "Carlee, get in the left lane and pull up close enough that I can roll the window down and talk to him."

  "No, River. I know you're upset but that won't help. I have a pen in the glove compartment. Write his tag number on something, and I'll turn him in to his boss."

  "I got a better idea."

  I used my cell to report the trucker to the highway patrol. After I stated my reason for calling, I gave them our names, a description of Carlee's car, and our approximate location on the interstate. I then gave them a description of the truck, its license plate number, and the name of the trucking company. Carlee verified that it was one of her father's trucks and belonged to "Lucky Trucking."

  The man at the highway patrol said that they had unmarked cars in the area, and that one of them would observe the trucker's driving for any possible violations and at a minimum, they would pull him over to warn him. In addition, they would report the incident to the trucking company. I knew that the patrol would not fine him just on my word, but I was satisfied that the driver and his boss would know that someone cared enough to complain.

  "Do you feel better now?" Carlee asked when my call ended.

  "Lots." I did feel better. I hoped that when the highway patrol spoke to the truck driver that it would result in a more careful driver, but I knew that in time he would probably go back to driving recklessly. It still helped me to know that I tried.

  I told Carlee that she needed to move to the right lane to take the next exit to the mall, and when she did, she pulled ahead of the truck dri
ver to where I could see the name of the trucking company on the passenger door. There was something familiar to me about the green letters on white with a green shamrock under the name.

  "I think I've seen one of those trucks around Harper Springs," I said. "The signing on the cab looks so familiar."

  "I doubt you saw one near Harper Springs because it's still a small company. They work a limited area, and they don't even do overnights yet, but my father plans to expand it. He bought it from Max's dad, who has a knack for thinking small. You probably saw one of the trucks when you went up this way to one of our football games."

  "Yeah, you're probably right. You know I have trouble with my memory sometimes." Besides the trauma I suffered from the accident, there were brief times throughout each day when the effect of my medications caused me to feel as if I were waking from a drunken stupor.

  "Here we are," announced Carlee when she pulled into the mall parking lot. "Let's see what kind of clothes we can find to make you look like a responsible adult."

  I laughed. "You just love to shop for any reason."

  Carlee giggled as she found a parking space. She could not hide her wide-eyed excitement, and she reminded me of a little girl opening presents at her surprise birthday party.

  My idea of clothes shopping was simple. I knew what items I needed before I went to the store, so when I walked in the door, I went straight to that section, selected the items I wanted, and paid for them. I knew my clothes sizes, so I rarely ever tried on anything before I bought it, but I did save receipts. For me, a shopping event was less than thirty minutes from the time I walked in the front door until I was out the door on the way to my car.

  Carlee did her shopping differently. Whereas I was proud of my shopping efficiency, Carlee spent twice as long as I did in stores where she bought nothing but touched almost everything. She took even longer in the stores where she actually made a purchase.

  I almost lost my mind.

  Later on, I discovered that my tongue was bleeding from biting it. I begged Carlee to tell me what I did wrong to make her punish me that way. She laughed as if I was joking, but I felt similar to the way I did when Papa used to punish me. He would make me run the hill behind his barn until my legs turned to rubber, and I promised to be good forever. If he had taken me shopping the same way Carlee did, I would have never broken another rule.

  The night of our shopping trip, we were both tired and went to bed early. We had our own rooms, but Carlee and I usually slept together, and that night, she shared my bed in my room over the barn.

  They had become less frequent, but I still suffered from nightmares about the accident. They usually started with Ant and I riding along the highway, just as we did the night that the truck driver ran us off the road. Sometimes, I saw the face of the man driving the tractor, and it was CO Malley from Stockwell, who grinned with rotten teeth and said, "It's time for payback." My nightmares usually ended when the truck hit our car, and we began to slide towards the guardrail. Another ending was strong, scarred hands dragging me out of the wrecked car and through a tunnel of screaming people.

  That night's dream was different from other versions, and I'm sure it was because of our shopping trip. In the new nightmare, the grinning Malley was wearing a white, baseball cap with a green shamrock, and the side of the cab showed the name "Lucky Trucking" in green letters on white. When the truck bumped the driver's side of Ant's car, I looked to my right to see that we were headed for the guardrail, and when I looked back at the truck, Big Bill Summers was driving it. I screamed when Ant and I broke through the rail.

  In reality, I really did scream, and I woke Carlee. It was not the first time that she had held me after a nightmare and spoke soothing words to assure me that I was safe. As usual, my face and chest were sweaty and Carlee, as usual, quietly retrieved a hand towel to dry me. I loved the pampering. I just hated the reason for it.

  "Was it a bad one?" Carlee whispered the words as she wiped my chest.

  "Yeah, same one where my old CO runs us off the road but with a twist."

  "What was different?"

  "I saw the name on the cab door. It was clear this time. And the dream didn't stop until our car was falling."

  "What name?"

  I looked at Carlee and debated a second before telling her. "Not that it means anything, but it was 'Lucky Trucking.' Just like the truck we saw when we went to the outlet mall."

  "That's kind of weird, but I can see how your mind would throw that name in there since that truck almost hit us."

  "It was so real. Very real. Like it really happened, and I'm just now remembering."

  Carlee sat straight. Her face serious. "Are you saying that you really believe that Malley was driving one of my father's trucks and ran you off the road?"

  "No, of course, not. I told you that Malley didn't get out of prison until March. There was no way he could have driven that truck but..."

  "But?"

  "I don't know. Forget it."

  "No, I want to know what you're thinking. Do you really believe it was one of my father's trucks? Are you thinking that my father had something to do with the accident?"

  "No. I'm sorry, Carlee. It's just my head messing with me. Even though you told your dad some crap that made him mad at me the day of the accident, he would have been crazy to risk all he has just to keep me away from you."

  "River, my father can be a jerk, but I can't believe that he would do something like that. Not just to you but to Ant too. Besides, he didn't really hate you at the time, or he wouldn't have acted the way he did."

  "What do you mean? I'm confused."

  "Well, you may not remember, but the night of the barn party I was spending the night with Tina. We left for her house a few minutes after you and Ant took off, and we had been in bed for maybe an hour or so when my father called. He told me that he had just heard that you and Ant had been in a serious accident. He wanted to drive me to the hospital before I found out and tried to drive myself on roads that might be icy."

  "Good thinking on his part," I admitted.

  "He picked up Max on the way to Tina's house and of course, Tina wanted to go, so there were four of us. By the time we arrived, we heard that Ant was dead, and they were still working on you. Tina was hysterical over Ant, and Max took Dad's car to drive her home.'

  "Dad waited there with me for hours. We talked a lot, and I learned that there were things he didn't like about you, but he respected how hard you and Ant worked to rise above your backgrounds. He said it was a shame that one mistake from some piss poor truck driver killed Ant and hurt you. He even joined me in a prayer that you would recover and still have the same bright future ahead of you. That doesn't sound like someone who wanted to run you guys off the road, does it?"

  "No, it doesn't." I was shocked, but not because Carlee's father joined her in a prayer for my recovery. "Carlee, tell me again what he said about the truck driver. I'm not sure I caught it all."

  "Well, like I said the first time, he thought it was a shame. You know how in just a brief moment that one person's mistake can cause so much damage. He said the truck driver was either very inexperienced or very careless to try to pass you on such a dangerous curve, especially since he should have known there might be ice."

  "Did he say who told him about the accident?"

  "No, if he did, I don't remember. I assumed it was a friend. What's so important about who told him?"

  I wasn't sure what to say or how to say it. I didn't want to upset Carlee.

  "River? Are you going to answer me?"

  "Carlee, why don't we get some sleep and talk in the morning."

  "No. You're not doing that to me. I won't go to sleep unless you tell me."

  When I chose to answer Carlee truthfully, I made an error in judgment, and I have wished a thousand times that I could return to that moment and take back my words.

  "Okay. I'm not sure what it means, but the fact is that until I told them, the cops didn't know that a
truck ran us off the road. They thought that it was a single car accident. That we hit a patch of ice and skidded through the rail."

  "Okay," said Carlee. I saw her trying to understand the significance of what I said, and she didn't get it until I added more to it. The part that changed everything.

  "I didn't tell the cops or anyone else until several days after the accident. Until then, the only people who could have known that a truck was involved in the accident were the truck driver, anyone the truck driver told, and me. The info your father gave you had to have originated from the driver who ran us off the road."

  I watched Carlee grasp my words and shake her head as if she could make it all untrue. "My father wouldn't do something like that, but maybe the person who told him did, or maybe that person heard about the truck from someone else."

  "Yeah, that's true," I admitted. "The information could have been passed down through more than one person before it got to your father, but I doubt it was so many that we couldn't trace it back. I mean there wasn't that much time between the accident and when your father told you."

  Carlee's expression was one of determination. "Well, I'm going to talk to my father. I'm sure that he will want to inform the police when I tell him that the info he shared with me came from the truck driver."

  I was trying to word my thoughts carefully since Carlee was already on the defensive about the possibility of her father's involvement. "Maybe the best idea is to first tell the police what we know. If you tell your father, he could unintentionally warn the real trucker, or something worse could happen. I mean it's possible that your dad could get hurt."

  "Yeah, that's true. I'll think about it."

  "Let's talk tomorrow before we do anything. Want to get some sleep?"

  "Yeah. I love you." Carlee kissed me gently on the lips and snuggled in under my arm.

  As I held her, I knew that sleep would not come easily. I didn't want to think that even a jerk like Big Bill could have deliberately tried to kill Ant and me, but I certainly had questions and a bad feeling that our accident was never really an accident.