Waiting at the Bluebird
Chapter 30

Copyright© 2015 Forest Hunter. All rights reserved

Roxie straightened and sat up in her seat. Her back ached. She’d been riding in that seat non-stop for almost four hours, save a quick bathroom and fuel break at a rest stop outside of Portland. The truck was slowing down at the Bangor Exit.

“Take a look at the map and tell me how to get from this exit to Route 1A,” Bubba yelled to her over the growl of the downshifting gears.

They had picked up a consignment of cooling condensers in Manchester, destined for a dairy in Belfast Maine.

“Stay on this side road until you reach the river,” Roxie answered. “You’ll run right into Rt. 1A. Then take a right and you’ll be headed toward Belfast.”

“Figure out how long it’ll take us to get to Belfast,” Bubba ordered.

Bubba’s attitude reminded her of Stan, her old boss, and that wasn’t a pleasing thought. Roxie had figured out a while back, as they crossed from Connecticut into Massachusetts, that Bubba wasn’t a ‘please and thank you’ kind of man.

“Looks like an hour, maybe a bit more,” Roxie answered after counting out the mileage markers on the map.

Bubba didn’t answer as he shifted down once again as the traffic light ahead turned red.

“Do you think we can stop there and get something to eat?” Roxie asked. “I’m starving. We skipped lunch, you know.”

“No,” Bubba said, without explaining.

He pulled into the right turn lane and stopped at the light. While they waited for it to change he reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out a cigar and removed the cellophane wrapper.

“Oh, for crissakes, not another one!” Roxie thought out loud. “At least, I won’t have to worry about eating, since I’ll be ready to throw up in a minute or two.”

She took out her pack of cigarettes and lit one as Bubba lit his cigar. She hoped that her smoke would cancel out his, although deep down she knew it would only make it worse.

Roxie was smoking more than she ever had since she embarked on her adventure in Bubba’s truck. She knew it, too. She had almost kicked the habit before deciding to run off with him, but Bubba’s cigars and what seemed to be endless stretches of highway had brought her back to it.

It had been fun to be with Bubba for the first few days—free agents on the open road. If they felt like singing, they would sing or if they felt like laughing, then laughing it would be. They were on their own time and what they did was their own business. She’d been all through New England; they seemed to go wherever they wished. Until then, an out of town trip for Roxie would have been to a shopping mall in Syracuse.

One night, early on, she and Bubba stayed in a Holiday Inn. The big, soft bed, endless shower, and limitless channels on the cable TV made her feel like she was living in a castle.

Bubba must have felt the same, because she could feel how her body excited him and that made her feel special and wanted. It was just so good to enjoy all the things she encountered, one-by-one, and not worry about a single thing.

The normal routine, though, was to bunk up in the sleeper cab at various times of the night and day to satisfy the off-times that Bubba needed for his logs. That was okay, too, though not half as nice as that night at the Holiday Inn. Bubba would drop off a load and then call around to find a new haul. Roxie helped with the maps and planning for fuel stops and that made her feel like she was helping.

Roxie knew that her gypsy life was just a temporary fling. She made herself not speculate about how or when the adventure would end. Sometimes she would steal a glance at Bubba as he was driving and wonder if he might be thinking about Mrs. Bubba waiting at home in Pennsylvania. She found that thinking about such things was not the best way to go through an adventure, so she made herself not think.

“What was that?” Bubba asked in a way that made Roxie know that he couldn’t quite hear what she’d said over the noise of the motor, but somehow knew that she was complaining.

At first Roxie was going to say it was nothing, but decided against it.

“I was just wondering why you’re lighting up another cigar,” she said.

Bubba diverted his attention from the road for just a second and shot her an angry look.

“‘Cause I feel like it,” he answered. “You’re forgettin’ whose truck this is.”

Roxie knew that what Bubba said should have made her angry, but she felt relieved. It was all out on the table and confirmed what she had been telling herself in secret. It hadn’t taken long after their night at the Holiday Inn for Bubba to begin fretting about the price of diesel fuel and huffing and puffing over Roxie’s route choices.

He didn’t seem to be at all concerned whether Roxie was comfortable or enjoying her adventure with him, or not. Worst of all, he seemed to have tired of her body in the cramped sleeper cab—like a spoiled child tiring of a toy.

It all made Roxie start to think, which she’d tried to tell herself not to do.

“Somehow, I’ve got to get out of this—but how? I’m roaming through the middle of Maine and I spent my last money a few days ago.”

She was about to ask Bubba when he might be thinking of heading back toward home, but she was afraid that he would figure out what she was thinking. They had turned onto the route to Belfast a few minutes ago. Roxie looked out the window as Bubba guided the semi down the road.

“I thought Bangor was a city. We’ve only driven a few minutes and we’re back in farm country already.”

In fact, the rural scene in Maine wasn’t very different than what she would have been looking at if she had been standing in the back yard of her aunt’s house in Appleton. She realized that a tear was rolling down her cheek. She brushed it away before Bubba could spot it.

“It sure doesn’t take much to make things go crazy,” she thought.

She began thinking about Appleton—it seemed far away. She was wondering if Junior was still with Bonnie. It hadn’t been hard for her to leave Junior behind. Of course, having her eye on his brother, Cal, had made the leaving easier.

But that possibility had fallen apart before it had even began. She wondered where she would be at that moment if Cal hadn’t stood her up on their date. Somehow, she figured, that nonevent was somehow, in the past.

“Roxie, I said that we’re here!”

It was Bubba yelling at her. She shook herself. She must have been day dreaming a lot longer than she’d realized.

She looked out the window. A hundred yards ahead was a barn-shaped building set back from the highway. There was a sign closer to the road: Belfast Dairy, The Dairy by the Sea. She looked to her left, past Bubba, and could see Penobscot Bay at the foot of an escarpment about a quarter-mile away.

Bubba pulled the rig into the parking lot. There was a door at one end of the building with a small sign with an arrow that said “Office”.

“Get the paperwork ready,” Bubba ordered. “I want to get this load dropped off and get out of here.”

It was Roxie’s job to keep track of the bills of lading, manifests and any invoices to be ready to present to the receiver. Roxie handed Bubba an envelope of documents and he bounded out of the cab and marched through the office door. He returned a few minutes later.

“They said that you could use the employees’ ladies’ room to freshen up, if you’re of a mind to,” Bubba said as he climbed back into the cab.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Roxie said as she gathered up her handbag and a few other things.

“I figured as much,” Bubba mumbled. “Look, they’re gonna unload me at that utility building over there. After you’re done, just wait for me here and I’ll pick you up on the way out.”

“Okay,” Roxie said as she opened the door of the cab. “I’ll be sure to be ready by the time you’re done.”

She climbed down to the ground and started for the office.

“Wait a minute, Roxie,” Bubba yelled as she began walking away. “Here’s some money. They have a little store on the other side of the building. Why don’t you buy something for us that we can eat while we drive back to the interstate.

Roxie climbed up on Bubba’s side of the cab. He stuck his hand out the window and deposited a five dollar bill in her hand.

“Sure Bubba. Want anything special?”

“No, you pick it out. Just make it’s something I can eat and drive at the same time.”

Roxie climbed down and began making her way to the office. Behind her she could hear Bubba putting the truck in gear.

“Bubba’s way of making a peace offering.”

She decided to lose whatever attitude she might have had and maybe she and Bubba could start having fun again. She knew that Bubba only had another three hours or so, before he had to take another break for his log book. Maybe they could get things going again when he stopped to rest.

“I sure know how to get something like that started,” she reminded herself.

It took longer than she expected to freshen up and buy the food at the little shop, so she was surprised when Bubba wasn’t waiting for her when she returned to the parking lot. She could see the truck parked in a far lot near an outbuilding, and the equipment had been off-loaded from the flatbed trailer. Bubba was nowhere in sight.

“He’s probably using the Men’s Room,” she reasoned.

She thought about walking up to where the truck was parked, but her hands were full with her handbag and the food she had just bought. She waited two minutes, three, and then five. At long last, she saw Bubba come out of the building and climb into the truck. He started it up and began crawling down to the parking lot where Roxie was waiting for him.

He stopped and Roxie struggled to climb into the cab with her hands full.

“What did you get for us?” he asked.

“Milkshakes!” Roxie proclaimed as she set the two waxed paper cups in the cup holders and began re-stowing her gear. “I figured you couldn’t handle the truck and eat an ice cream at the same time, but you could work on this while we’re going along. See, there’s a little lid and a straw through it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Bubba acknowledged.

It was all part of Roxie’s plan to get things back on the right track. A small thing like a milkshake could turn things right around if she handled it right.

“I got one chocolate and one vanilla, so you can have your pick,” she continued. “I like ‘em both, so you can have whichever you want.”

 
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