Down the Dirt Road (36 page)

    “Trisha told me.” 

     For God’s sake, did
everyone
know what that creep Adam had done to her?

     “I have to go.”  She pulled open the door and dropped into the driver’s seat.  The car started with a rush of exhaust and she slammed her door closed.

    Michael tapped on the window, motioned for her to roll it down.

    “
What
?”  She snapped again.  Just couldn’t help herself.

    “I tried to find him.  I went back three nights in a row until my sergeant made me stop.  I just wanted you to know that.”

    “But you stopped.  And you left him and came home and he is still out there somewhere and no one cares.”

    She started to raise the window as the tears came again.  The last thing she heard as she backed away was “I care.”

    Jennie slammed her hand against the steering wheel.  The car jerked to the side at the sudden onslaught.  What right did Michael have coming to see her?  Why couldn’t he just stay the hell out of her life?  She wasn’t that same starry eyed teenager she was when they had been together.  She didn’t melt from his smile anymore or turn giddy at the sound of his voice.

   He had tried to find Grayson but his sergeant put a stop to it.  Did she believe him?  There was something about his eyes that told her he wasn’t lying.  The once clear, blue, laughing eyes seemed older, sadder somehow- full of shadows and repressed memories.

    What did it matter anyway?  He was home and his family was happy and together. 

    Putting it all out of her mind, Jennie concentrated on the road ahead of her.  She had to try and get that big, old truck up and running so she could sell it.  She wasn’t at all sure who would want such a bucket of nuts and bolts but if her Daddy had loved it for so long, then she could only hope there was someone else out there that could appreciate a classic as Daddy had always called it.

     Momma was standing in the yard when Jennie pulled up in front of the house.  The tarp was laying on the ground next to the truck as Momma walked slowly, circling the old Ford.

     “Hi, Momma!”  She called as she parked the car and got out.  “Whatcha’ doin’?

      Momma didn’t answer right away but when she did, she turned to face Jennie with a smile.

     “Your Daddy loved this old thing.”

     “I know he did, Momma.  I never understood why though.”

      “She’s a classic.  That’s what he used to say.”  Momma ran a hand down the hood, ignoring the thick coat of dust and dirt obscuring the less than perfect paint job.

     “I know, Momma.  He was telling just how great that old Ford was on the day he… his last day.   Compared it to you.”

     Momma’s head whipped around to face her.  “Compared me to a truck?  How is that?”
    “Said he couldn’t get rid a’ her because it would be like tradin’ you in when you got a few wrinkles!” 

     “A few wrinkles?  Ha!  Good thing he can’
t see me now;
wastin’ away the way that I am!”

     They had a good laugh.  Momma’s health was no joke but the idea that Daddy compared her to the truck on his last day alive seemed ironic somehow.

    “I just went into town, Momma.  Mack gave me a battery.  I’m gonna try and get her started, maybe put an ad in the paper.  Someone out there has gotta be lookin’ for a classic!”  They laughed together again.  Jennie wiped tears from eyes with the back of her hand.  It felt good to cry from laughter rather than sadness for a change.

     “How is Mack doin?”  Momma asked finally.

    “Misses Daddy, just like the rest of us.”
     “He was your Daddy’s best friend.  You know they were
born on the same day in the same hospital?  Their momma’s shared a hospital room.”

     “I never knew that.  Kind of a neat story, Momma.  I bet there’s a lot about Daddy I never knew.”

     “Yes, Jennie girl, there is.”

     “Momma?  What are you doing out in the driveway anyway?”

     “I came outside lookin’ for you.  That lady police officer called.  Said that awful man pled guilty and is gonna go to jail for at least half a decade for all he did.”

    “Oh, thank the good Lord.”  Jennie’s knees when weak with relief.

     “There’s more.  She said they found evidence on those videotapes of at least three other women he assaulted.  He’s gonna keep the courts busy for awhile, the officer said.”

    “Other women?  Sick bastard!”  Jennie slapped the side of the truck for emphasis.

    “Those sort of men, they got a sickness.  There is never just one.”

     Momma spoke emphatically but Jennie could see the lines of weariness around her eyes.

     “Why don’t you go on inside Momma.  I’m gonna take care of the animals and then I’ll be in.  I can do the battery tomorrow.”

     “OK, I think that’s a good idea.  Maybe I’ll make some tea and read a book on the back porch.  The sun feels so good on my cold bones.”

    Jennie watched as her Momma made her way up the porch steps and into the house.  She took the battery from her trunk and placed it in the truck bed, pulling the old tarp up and over it.  It took nearly an hour to get through the evening chores.  Her mind skipped constantly between the welcome news that Adam Johansen was in a world of trouble and her uncomfortable conversation with Michael earlier in the day.

    She brought the instructions Mack had written for her into the house.  She would look up the installation on the internet as well and compare his steps with theirs.  She loved Mack and was certain he knew what he was doing but she would just feel better with some back up information.

    Dinner was soup and sandwiches.  Momma sat opposite her at the large kitchen table and they shared stories and memories of Daddy in a way they never had since the day he had died.  By the time the said their goodnights, Momma had a gleam of happiness back in her eyes that Jennie hadn’t seen in a good long time.

30.

    A bright spring sun greeted her as Jennie opened first one eye and then the other.  A late night spent researching old Ford pick- up trucks left her reluctant to wake up.  One of these days she was going to sleep in as long as she wanted.  Some day…maybe even soon….

    Excited about the prospect of getting Daddy’s truck up and running again, she changed quickly into a pair of cut off jeans and an old tee shirt.  Mack’s instructions appeared to be surprisingly accurate- the whole exchange would only involve about five minutes worth of work.  As soon as the animals were taken care of, she would get to work.

     “Mornin’ Momma!”  She could hear her mother in the kitchen making tea.  It seemed Elise was finding her way
out bed earlier and earlier these days.  Jennie hoped that was a good sign of things to come.

     “You want some breakfast, Jennie girl?”  Momma called back, her voice sounding unusually strong.

    “Nah! Thanks!  I’m not at all hungry.  Too much work to do!”  She yelled on her way out the front door.  Spring had fast forwarded into summer.  It had to be nearly eighty degrees already, an extreme temperature for late March, even in her part of the south.
  The neighbor’s rooster crowed and the birds overhead were each engaged in their own song.  It was a beautiful morning and for the first time in months Jennie felt lighthearted and cheerful.  Come to think of it, she didn’t even remember dreaming the night before.  Maybe this would be a really good day after all.  They could all use some good days right about now.

    “Hello there!  You all must be anxious to move outside.”  The chickens swirled around her ankles as soon as she opened the barn door.  With weather like this, she would definitely have to open up the outdoor coop in the next day or two.  There was no reason to keep the birds al locked up inside anymore.

    Pulling open the back door, Jennie showed the horses out to the pasture and tossed some chicken feed down for the birds.  A quick mucking out of the stalls and water in the  watering hole for the horses and she was done with the morning chores.

     “Time to get that big old beast runnin’ again.”  The lone chick following her around the barn just clucked and picked at a piece of feed in response.

     It took no time at all to pull the tarp from the truck and get the new battery from the bed.  When she opened the driver’s door it creaked loudly but other than that it worked fine.  A quick inspection of the tires told her she would need a little fix a flat and a whole lot of air.  Dry rot had claimed at least one of them but she was certain Mack could help her out with that.
  Slipping in behind the steering wheel she took pause for a moment.  The lingering scent of her father filled the stale air and saturated her senses.  Closing her eyes she inhaled deeply, remembering the last time she had sat in the cab, the last time they had been together and longed for that carefree little girl she had been before that day- a day when she thought the worst
thing that could ever happen to her was her boyfriend cheating on her.

     Jennie ran her fingers over the surface of the hard dash with its eight track player and CB radio.  The radio still worked just as it had when John Marshall was alive- metallic strains of country filled the cab as she fiddled with the old silver knobs.  The cracked vinyl seat had cracked a bit more over the years but the springs were still strong and the bench seat was still as stiff as it had been thirty years ago.

     Ending her trip down memory lane, Jennie felt beneath the dash and found the hood release.  Pulling as hard as she could, the heavy steel hood popped up ever so slightly over the massive V-8 engine.

    Finding the metal rod to prop the hood up with was a bit more challenging than opening the hood itself but once she did, she stepped back and examined the items that were exposed.  Hoses, wires and several things she couldn’t identify filled most of the space but off the left close to the wheel well was the old, presumably dead battery.

     Pulling Mack’s instructions from her pocket, she smoothed them out atop of the engine block.  Step one told her to locate the battery which she had done already.  Subsequent steps instructed her on how to disconnect the two terminals and clean them up for reconnection.  The negative terminal had corroded some and took a bit off effort with a wrench- that she mostly banged on it with – and a screw driver to set it free.  Once she did that though, removing the old battery was a piece of cake.

    The new one was a bit harder to situate because it was heavy and bulky an let’s face it, she wasn’t exactly in peak physical condition these days.  But after some lugging and tugging, she managed to set it into the right place.  Careful not to cross the wires, she reattached them to the new battery terminals, tightened them down slightly, replaced the caps and checked to see if there was water in the all the right places.  Mack had assured her that he put water in before giving it to her but she checked again, just to be sure.

    “All right, this is it.  Let’s see if I am a master mechanic or what.”  Jennie stepped to the driver’s side, wiping her
hands on her jean shorts leaving dark streaks of oil on the worn and faded denim.

   Pulling the key from under the floor mat where Daddy had kept it her entire life, Jennie inserted it into the ignition and said a quick prayer that something would happen.  And something did- a sickening grinding noise followed by a puff of black smoke from the tail pipe and then …nothing.  She took a deep breath and tried again.  This time more success.  She could hear the engine whirring and try to catch but then it gave up as though the effort were just too much.

   She jumped out of the truck and kicked the front tire, cursing and waving her fist as though the truck could somehow understand her anger.  Following her hissy fit, she slid back in behind the wheel and turned the key again. 

    The engine roared to life immediately.

    And immediately died.

   Progress, right?  Thirty minutes ago there wasn’t even the click of the starter to encourage her.

    Turning the key again,
the engine roared to life again squealing and screeching and finally settling into a loud,
unsettled rumble.  But it didn’t matter, it was running.  She had made the beast run again!  Ignoring the fact that the truck had a flat tire she eased the clutch down and inched the stick into gear.  Slowly letting off the clutch and pressing down on the gas pedal she eased the truck forward before shifting into second.  Memories of her father filled the cabin as she puttered around the drive way in front of the house.  John Marshall taking the dirt road just a hair faster than he should, dodging some of the craters, aiming for others.  His huge smile and gale of laughter as he went air born every single time on the big dip
he always attributed to the spring rains.