Miles to Go

Chapter 1“Honestly, honey, I’m glad to hear it,” Mama said. “I thought maybe if your daddy could help you find a job it’d be okay for you to be down there a bit, but since it’s not really worked out, I think it’s best if you came on home.” Toby knew she was right. Coming to a small, coastal town in South Carolina never was likely to land him a job. His dad had told him as much. Working as a boat mechanic, his dad knew most everybody in town because most everybody in town was a shrimper or some kind of fisherman. Toby had applied at the Walmart by the interstate and all the restaurants. He’d even tried to get on as a plumber’s apprentice because he’d heard there was a shortage of plumbers. No luck. “Yeah, I’ma head outta here in a bit. I told Pop I’d swing by the shop to say goodbye on my way out. I should be there ‘tween 4:30 and five o’clock.” “Drive safe, honey. I’ve got beans and collards on so we’ll have us a nice supper when you get here.” “Bye, Mama.” Despite the long odds of finding a job on Patchetal Island or any of the towns further inland, Toby had needed to get out of his mama’s house for a while. Money was tight, probably tighter than he even realized. Mama’s disability check didn’t go very far and Toby was being pretty stingy with his savings since losing his job at the shop. Toby grabbed his duffel bag, a diet Coke from the fridge and headed out to his truck. He looked at his Toyota Tacoma and was thankful to still have it. He’d thought about selling it, but it was six years old and already had almost 120,000 miles on it. For what he could get for it, he wouldn’t be able to afford anything half as reliable and still pocket any real money. Heading down the few blocks to his father’s shop, Toby thought how much he liked the smell of the ocean and the constant breeze. The enjoyment didn’t last long because the smell of gas, diesel and grease was strong when he walked into the shop. “You headin’ out?” asked his father. “Yep.” “Tell your mama I said hey when you get there.” “I will.” Toby leaned in and gave his father a hug. “I love you. Drive safe.” “I love you, too, Pop.” It was a good forty-minute ride to catch I-95 which would take him north back to his home in Chasen, NC. Toby knew he’d have to stop once for gas because he was already under half a tank. He popped open the diet Coke and turned on the radio. He figured he’d better enjoy the beautiful ride through the South Carolina low country before he had to deal with the assholes on I-95. Damn, he thought to himself, why people gotta be such jerks on the highway—always tailgating and cutting people off. They act like everybody just ought to get out of their way. As expected, traffic was heavy on the interstate and everybody was driving like they were going to a fire. Toby took his time and mostly just let everybody else pass him by. Once, while following behind an eighteen-wheeler, he saw a sign on the back that said, Now Hiring Drivers. Toby hadn’t ever considered truck driving as a job. He’d thought about working for UPS once, but he’d have to work part-time, for little money for a couple of years before he’d have a chance at getting a job as a driver. Toby needed to make real money now. Feeling a little hungry and needing to pee, Toby figured it was probably a good time to stop for gas. He followed the signs a few exits down to stop at one of the Pilot truck stops. Toby liked the Pilot stations. They were easy to get to, had clean bathrooms and usually sold all kinds of crazy stuff in their stores. He pulled into the station and parked at the outermost island of gas pumps—the one closest to the islands for the diesel pumps where the big trucks filled up. As Toby put the nozzle in the tank, he noticed a guy hop out of an eighteen-wheeler truck and head toward the store. As he walked closer, Toby thought he couldn’t be much older than Toby was himself. “Howdy!” said the young man as he walked by Toby. He had a big smile on his face. “Hey there,” Toby said in reply. Toby looked at the big truck the guy was driving and wondered what it was like to drive something that big. The truck driver had left the door to his truck open, so when Toby’s tank was full, he wandered over to take a peek inside. It was kind of hard to see too much because it was so high up, but the one thing Toby saw was a lot of dials and gauges, big red and yellow knobs on the dash, some sort of ball thing stuck on the steering wheel and some radios. “You lookin’ for something, friend?” Toby heard from directly behind him. He spun around, startled. “Oh, no,” he said, stumbling over his words. “I mean, I was just looking cuz I’d been wondering what it was like to drive one of these and whether I could get a job cuz I don’t have one and I need one and lots of trucks have Come Drive With Us signs on the back.” Toby knew he sounded like an i***t. “Hop in.” “What?” Toby asked, sure he hadn’t heard right. “Climb on in the truck and have a seat if you wanna look around,” said the stranger, smiling again. Toby looked in the truck, then back at the guy and decided it seemed to be a genuine offer. He climbed up the two steps into the truck and sat in the drivers’ seat. The guy climbed up and stood on the second step where he was just about eye level with Toby. “What you wanna know?” he asked. Toby looked at the guy. Light brown hair, green eyes and there was no way he was more than a year or two older than him. His breath smelled like some kinda mint. Damn, Toby thought, green f*****g eyes and he was muscular, too. This guy had to have girls crawling all over him. “What’s these big red and yellow knobs for?” “Yellow one’s the parkin’ brake for the cab. Red one’s the parkin’ brake for the trailer.” Toby looked at the busy dashboard. “What’s next?” the guy asked. “How long did it take you to learn to drive this thing?” “Oh, I don’t know. I been driving my whole life, just about. My family owns this trucking company, so I was driving these things around the yard when I was probably fourteen or fifteen. Couldn’t drive on the road ‘til I was eighteen and got a CDL, and even then, had to stay in-state ‘til I was twenty-one.” “CDL?” Toby asked. “Commercial driver’s license. You have to have one to drive a truck. A Class A one to drive somethin’ this big. There’s schools you can go to. They have classes where you learn the stuff you gotta know to pass the CDL test and they teach you how to drive the truck. I think it takes a couple of months.” “Expensive?” Toby asked. “No idea. Every truck driver at our company was taught by my grampa or my dad.” “You like it?” “Drivin’?” the guy asked, seeming a little surprised at the question. “Yeah, pretty much. I’ve only been going on the long trips for about nine months now—so I’m still kinda getting used to being away from home a little more. But yeah, it’s a good job. There’s plenty of hassles, but mostly stuff works out okay.” “Where you headin’ now?” Toby asked, wondering if maybe that was asking a little too much. “Westerville, North Carolina. Dropping off an empty trailer at a furniture plant and I’ll be back in three days to pick it up.” “I tried to get a job at that furniture plant. Westerville’s about thirty minutes from my town—Chasen.” Toby looked around the rest of the truck’s cab. There was a plastic box with several file folders on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Sunglasses and a baseball cap sat on the top of the dash. A pack of Extra gum was on the console. Over his shoulder there was a compartment behind him. It wasn’t very bright in there but Toby could see a pillow. Toby finally became aware that there’d just been silence between the two of them while he was nosing around in a complete stranger’s truck. He looked back at the guy who was looking at him inquisitively. “You’re kinda captivated by all this, aren’t ya?” he asked. “I don’t know. I need a job. I gotta do something and I don’t know if this is right for me or not,” Toby replied. “What’s your name?” he asked, holding out his hand. “Toby Wright,” he said, shaking his hand. “Wayne Thomas,” replied the man, stepping down to the ground. Toby took the hint and climbed out of the truck. “I’m guessing you’ve never ridden in one of these, am I right?” “Nope, never have.” “This may sound a little crazy, but why don’t you come on a run with me?” “A run?” Toby asked. “Yeah,” Wayne answered. “I’ll be back in three days to pick up that load of furniture. You said you’re like thirty minutes away? I’ll come get you and you can ride with me to do the deliveries. First stop is in Nashville, then New Orleans, then Dallas, then we either come home or pick up another load somewhere else. Either way, we won’t be gone a week. You’d be doin’ me a favor. Drivin’ the truck is the easy part. Movin’ the big boxes of heavy furniture is a b***h—even with a forklift gettin’ them on and off the lift is a pain. A second pair of hands sure would come in handy.” “I don’t know,” Toby said. “I need to be workin’ on findin’ a job and I don’t really have money to be spendin’…” “Well, it’ll only cost you what you eat and drink and when you’re helping me unload, I’ll pay you thirteen dollars an hour.” “How many hours does it take?” Toby asked. “Usually, three to four hours per stop.” “So, forty or fifty dollars per stop?” “Thereabouts,” Wayne said. “Plus, there’s wi-fi in the truck, so if you got a computer, you can apply for jobs all the way down the road.” “You don’t even know me. How you know I’m not some serial killer?” Toby asked. “Ah, you seem alright,” Wayne said. “For all you know, I could be the killer!” Toby’s eyes got big. “I’m kiddin’,” Wayne said, smiling. “Look, you can totally check me out.” He swung the door of the cab shut and pointed to the logo. Wren Trucking, Lorten SC, it said. “Go to our website. You can read about the company and there’s pictures of me and all my family on there. It’s a little cringy, but it was my mom’s idea.” “Who’s Wren?” Toby asked. “Wren is the state bird of South Carolina. That was my granma’s idea,” Wayne said, laughing. Toby thought about this unusual offer. Sounded like he could make enough to cover his food and the more he was away from home the less his mama would try to spend on food. Plus, she wouldn’t run the AC in his bedroom if he wasn’t there. He’d offered to take the unit out of the window and just use the screen, but she wouldn’t hear of it. He knew it ran up the electric bill. He’d never been to Nashville or New Orleans and would’ve loved to see both. He could check Wayne’s story out. Toby held out his hand and said, “Alright, I’m in!” “Fan-fuckin’-tastic,” Wayne said, and held his hand out to shake Toby’s again. They exchanged phone numbers and Toby offered to meet him at the furniture factory since Chasen was opposite the direction of Nashville. “Be ready for a good time,” Wayne said. “We’re gonna have some fun on this trip.”