Andrea Millhouse Pt. 02

____________ 3 ____________

Lonnie tilted the hood and glistening new paint greeted us. The huge V-8 Caterpillar with one thousand and ninety nine cubic inches of displacement looked just as I had always remembered them to be - a monster.

I also noticed that the vintage tractor had been converted to disc brakes, front and rear and that everything had been up-dated with multi colored plastic air hoses. The truck didn't look like someone's tricked-out toy, it looked like an actual unit that had just rolled off of the Oakland assembly line, fifteen minutes ago. In actuality it had been more than thirty five years and two and a half million miles ago.

Apparently the vessel had been disassembled to the point where no two pieces were left bolted together. It had then been remanufactured to the clients own personal specifications and made, better, than when it was new. The workmanship and modern upgrades were of superb craftsmanship and reflected a lot of pride on the part of the owner as well as the builder, and also a LOT of money. This was a serious piece of equipment.

"Thirty four - oh eight with eighteen speed behind it and three hundred inch wheel base. Dash has full instrumentation with duel pyrometers, one for each bank. You're only about thirty eight thousand pounds - over all, hardly noticeable with this truck but watch your pyrometers; she's jacked-up good and has as much bite as bark. Rear-ends are four - eleven gear ratios and you've got three hundred gallon fuel capacity; you should be able to cross most of Canada without refueling. Paperwork is on the seat and if you have any problems call the number in the cover of the logbook. Don't leave the truck unattended and keep it seventy miles an hour, or under. Take your time and run legal, no cowboy shit." Lonnie said in an impersonal voice.

I suddenly closed my eyes and squeezed the bridge of my nose, how did I ever let myself get talked into this? I'd spent all summer in one of these damn things and now I was going to be stuck in another one for a week and totally responsible for someone else's crown jewel. Andrea, seemingly able to read my thoughts, took my hand and squeezed it a little in reassurance. That she thought the whole idea was a glamorous adventure wasn't lost on me. I'd felt the same way, once.

"Does he have a preference to the route we take?" I asked.

"No, just do your job and the man will be happy." Lonnie replied as he stood on the front bumper and began closing the hood.

Reaching upward, I assisted Lonnie by grabbing the left fender and gently setting the hood back into place and onto its rubber pads with a quiet, whoomph.

"We'll probably leave Monday afternoon, sometime" I said.

"Sounds good to me" Lonnie replied, shrugging his shoulder.

I now noticed "Long Grey Cloud" painted in elaborate script on the side of the hood as I began fastening the hood's tie-down latches. If I wasn't mistaken, that had been the name of a pirate's ship at one time in history...

Long Grey Cloud was currently parked inside a yard that was obviously owned by a large pipe fitting company. Thousands of long black pipes were stacked neatly in a storage area and there were also several large metal buildings with tall overhead doors surrounding the property. There was a also a security guard at the gate entrance. The yard was tidy and had a professional no-nonsense aura about it. This was a serious place for hard work.

A few minutes later Andrea and I were back inside the Nissan and driving out of the gated yard where Long Grey Cloud now stood in line with several other elaborate trucks which were apparently all owned by the pipe company. There were probably twenty of the big diesels, altogether in a neat row and representing millions of dollars worth of inventory. The other units were all painted identical with a bold black and yellow paint scheme, representative of the pipe company which owned the building and premises.

Long Grey Cloud had been built in March of nineteen eighty four, the same year as my own truck, in Alaska, I reflected. I pulled the Nissan onto the blacktop and flipped down the driver's sun visor.

"Tim ...your whole persona changes whenever you're climb into one of those things, did you know that? You don't get-in a truck; you put it on and wear it." Andrea suddenly said, looking at me, as if she'd just thought of it.

"Let's hope so, Andrea." I sighed

...Hans had started all of this Coy Hearth nonsense to begin with, I reflected. I'd worked with Hans in Alaska for many years and at seventy six years of age I'd have thought he was ready to relax and do something other than work. He had even stated, upon moving into the Laughlin condo, that those were his actual intentions. I put on the Nissan's turn signal and took the on-ramp for the free-way entrance and started back in the direction of the condo as Andrea sat quietly and began digging around in her purse now.

Hans was one of those guys that you couldn't out-work. I'd learned that lesson many years ago and although I greatly respected the man and his work ethic, there was also a time to play. That had been my whole reason for purchasing the condo in Nevada to begin with, I thought, a little ticked off at myself for not having said a final "NO" to this little proposition.

Andrea and I now drove in silence for several minutes, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

Coy Hearth was owner of Long Grey Cloud. Hans and Coy went way back, I knew. Hell, Hans had even known the old man too, it was said. What had the old man's name been? Seth, wasn't it? ...I couldn't remember.

Coy was a wealthy businessman and owner of two or three, million dollar, homes in places like the Caribbean and Thailand. Most people, including myself, had never actually met him. Apparently he was an extremely self indulgent individual with a taste for expensive women and large toys. Costing a mere one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, Long Grey Cloud was nothing more than a nickel and dime novelty for him, I would imagine. My God, I thought, that's more money than I paid for the Laughlin condo...

There was speculation within some circles that Coy was in fact "connected" somehow with the Chicago mob. That's probably bullshit, I thought, as I changed lanes and turned on the windshield wipers and washer fluid, heading east.

"We need to go back, I forgot my phone. I set it on the step of the grey truck, I think." Andrea suddenly said, looking up.

"Andrea..." I said, shaking my head and releasing a disgusted sigh.

This was twice that she'd done this, in a week's time.

Sonofabitch! ...Why is it that, the best looking women can't ever seem to go anyplace without leaving half their shit lying around? ...My ex-wife Susan had been the same fucking way, I now thought clenching my teeth. With her it had gotten to the point where I would actually make a mental note of what she'd brought with her whenever we'd go someplace. "Ready to go? Did you remember to collect all your stuff? You're sure? Your sunglasses are still on the table, honey. Oh, we have to go back now because you forgot your keys by the sink in the ladies room? No biggie, babe, it's only thirty miles back to the restaurant."

...Damn, it seemed like I spent half my life driving a woman, back, to someplace we'd just left so she could get whatever it was, she'd left lying around.

Coats, hats, keys, gloves, sunglasses and phones "Hi, we were the couple sitting at that table over there about three hours ago and the lady unintentionally left half of everything she owns in the booth when we left. Did you find it by any chance?" ...Mom herself had been no better when it came to this. MOOOOOMMMM, why can't you women remember to take your shit with you when we leave the fucking restaurant?" I had wanted to scream more times than once ...calm down, I thought.

"Honey, I'm sorry." Andrea said, looking at me.

"It's OK, Andrea. We'll go back" I forced myself to say.

I found an exit ramp and after several minutes we eventually managed to start navigating our way back in the same direction which we'd just come from a few minutes earlier. When we were three quarters of the way back to the pipe yard containing Long Grey Cloud, Andrea's phone suddenly rang. It had been inside the pocket of her windbreaker all along.

"FUCK! I searched my pockets three times and couldn't find this fucking phone!" Andrea said disgustedly as she looked at the screen and switched the device to voicemail.

An off-ramp with convenience store suddenly loomed on the right side of the free-way, I quickly put on the right turn signal and dove the Nissan into the paved lot and parked. I shut off the car's engine and got out without saying anything, I suddenly had a headache. Andrea also got out and walked quickly to my side and put her arm around me.

"Tim, I'm sorry, OK? I was afraid I'd left it there." Andrea said now.

Somehow I did the right thing by keeping my mouth shut. I then put my arm around Andrea and jerked her close to me as I leaned down and kissed her hard, in complete selfishness.

"That'll teach you." I said releasing her and walking away.

"HEY! Come back ...I may have left my hair brush there too, I think." She said in jest and reeling from the kiss.

Walking back and grabbing her around the waist, I led her into the convenience store.

"Not a chance in hell, are we going back, lady." I said as I steered her toward the soda coolers.

"You probably think I'm one of those chicks that leaves her stuff lying around whenever she goes someplace, don't you?" Andrea asked as I got us each a Root-beer.

"Honey, that thought never entered my mind, OK?" I replied as innocently as I could.

"I want a diet Coke, not a Root-beer." Andrea said, looking down at the two bottles I held.

"Tough, you're getting a Root-beer." I said walking toward the cashier.

After paying for the sodas Andrea and I walked out of the convenience store but instead of getting back into the Nissan we decided to sit on the edge of the sidewalk in front of the ice machine and drink our sodas.

"Lot of sugar in one of these." Andrea said looking at her bottle.

"Jesus, Andrea, will you just let me sit here and enjoy it, alright?" I asked, a little disgusted with her.

"You really don't want to drive that thing to Alaska do you?" she asked, referring to Long Grey Cloud.

I took a guilt free swig of my Root-beer and said "No."

"Then why are you?" she asked looking at me.

"Because I told Hans, I would, and because I know you'll enjoy it" I sighed.

Andrea hooked her arm in mine and laid her head on my shoulder then.

"Maybe I'll keep you around, after all, Tim." she replied.

"Then stop leaving your shit lying around, every time we go someplace" I said sarcastically.

"You've left half your crap lying around all over my condo and I'm still trying to get the axle grease out of MY carpet that YOU drug in with your boots" she said just as sarcastically.

"That's different" I said defiantly.

Andrea then quickly snaked her hand under my shirt and began tickling me as we both broke out into laughter.

"God, you're such a shit!" I said jerking her closer to me.

Andrea and I then fell into silence, completely oblivious of noise from the cars on the freeway and other people entering and exiting the convenience store.

"What are you thinking inside your man-head?" Andrea asked after a few minutes, looking up at me.

I took another swig of Root-beer. "...If we left on Monday, we could make it in time for Brenda's birthday party in Seattle; we could park Long Grey Cloud there at Ricky's without any problem. ...I was also thinking maybe we could, ...nothing." I waved off the thought with my left hand.

"We could what? tell me." she said.

"Just a crazy idea but I was thinking maybe when we got to Alaska we could turn around and drive the old Ford coup back. There shouldn't be any snow along the AlCan hi-way for another month or so but I know there would be at least four or five days worth of work I'd have to do to the car first. I know the brakes would need to be reworked and I'm not sure the engine would even turn-over now, since it's sat for so long. I haven't even seen the car in ten years." I said shrugging.

"That's the green one that you showed me a picture of right, the one you and Ricky built in the eighties? What is it again?" Andrea asked.

"Nineteen thirty four, Ford, deuce coup. Remember, we watched the movie with the black one in it, the one with flames on the hood?" I replied.

"Yes! but I never got to see it, while I was there with you this summer. Andrea replied excitedly.

I closed my eyes and rubbed the back of my neck.

"I think my buddy would like to have it out of his shed and it would fetch a fair price down here in Nevada or Phoenix, now." I said

"If you sell it, then I WANT it." Andrea said seriously.

"You've never even seen the thing, Andrea." I said incredulously.

"Yes I have, the photos are gorgeous!" she replied.

"Mom chose the color, she was nuts about that car too. So am I, really. It's pretty but it's just a car, Andrea. I'm not really a car nut anymore." I replied.

"That's hog wash and you know it, Tim. Anything with wheels and you're addicted to it." Andrea said finishing her Root-beer and standing now.

"Want to get a room and save the drive back?" I suddenly suggested.

"No, I'll drive and it's only a hundred miles to Laughlin. C'mon, cowboy." She said helping me to my feet.

...At exactly three thirty PM, Wednesday, Andrea and I landed in Phoenix and were met at the airport by Andrea's younger sister, Gail. After briefly introducing Gail and me, Andrea took the lead and led us to the baggage claim where we collected our luggage a few minutes later. The three of us then began walking towards the parking garage with Andrea and me pulling our suitcases along the floor with the familiar sound, heard at every airport in the world, of small rubber wheels rolling along the linoleum. It could be an exciting sound when meeting a loved one at the gate or a lonely sound when sending them off, I suddenly thought. Either way, the sound was very distinctive.

"Her actual name is Galilahi which means 'Attractive' but everyone just calls her Gail" , Andrea had told me at one time. Gail had the same shoulder length hair and facial feature as her sister and was what I would consider a very attractive woman. Andrea had also informed me that, Bob, had been in telecommunications for thirty years and that the two of them had three kids together. They'd fallen in love during grammar school and been married since graduation. I was looking forward to being introduced to all of them.

...I'm meeting Andrea's family now; this is getting pretty serious I suddenly thought with a bit of a shock.

"It's good to finally meet the man that's swept my sister off her feet. I've been hearing about you for so long now that I feel like I already know you" Gail said looking at me with a half smile as we continued walking.

"I'm not really sure, who swept who, off their feet to be honest." I said returning the smile. I was going to like Gail, I thought.

"He belongs to me so don't get any ideas, married, little sister." Andrea said looking back at us and rolling her eyes at us.

Gail had a late model, white, Chevy Malibu and after storing our luggage in the trunk or "Boot" ,as the Australians call it, we started off. The ladies quickly began catching up on gossip and talking about their own history together. They were talking about people I didn't know and events that hadn't included me - it had been before my time, with Andrea.

Looking out the rear passenger's side window now, I began to tune out their conversation and reflected on the meeting with Hans, earlier that week, and how I'd let myself get suckered into the deal involving Long Grey Cloud. Looking back now, I realized that I'd gone into the restaurant completely flat-footed and that I should have known better.

Andrea hadn't been any help, I suddenly thought. I almost felt like her and Hans had conspired against me as the three of us had sat sipping coffee together.

"You got anything going on, now that your gravel hauling season in Alaska is over, Tim?" Hans had asked me.

"No, not really, Hans." I had replied, shrugging.

"Good! Coy Hearth has a couple trucks that he wants driven to Alaska. I told him that you might be interested in driving one of them. One is a brand new W900L, KW, which I'll be driving and the other is an eighty four Pete, extended hood, like yours. Both will be pulling a short drop-deck with half-conex boxes, loaded light, with some lathes and a vintage hot-rod." Hans said smiling.

"Oh come-on, Hans, I don't want to drive BACK to Alaska, I just got here. I especially don't want to drive someone else's worn-out piece of junk and be expected to be there in three and half days. I just spent all summer inside MY own truck. Not interested, thanks!" I said a little incredulously.

"Wait, wait, just let me finish the story." Hans had replied, holding up his palm and using the universal hand sign for 'stop.'

I remember closing my eyes and tilting my head back with the feeling that I was about to get suckered.

"Coy just spent a hundred and eighty thousand dollars having the truck, you'll be driving, completely re-manufactured by a very reputable outfit in Dallas. I've seen the truck, it's beautiful. Andrea would be permitted to go and you can take as much time as you want. Coy's seen how well you've taken care of your truck, over the years and he knows you're a big, Pete, guy. God forbid, something happened and it did get destroyed, everything is fully insured and there won't be any hard feelings." Hans had assured me, holding up his giant palm again, then in a sign of sincerity.

"I think it'd be FUN and I really enjoyed riding with Tim in his truck, this summer, in Alaska!" Andrea had chimed in, right on cue.

"Hans, thanks for thinking of me but I'm really not interested." My final answer had been.

"I'll take that as a definite, maybe." Hans had countered, smiling at Andrea...

..."Honey, are you listening to me?" Andrea now asked looking back at me as we rode in Gail's car.

"Sorry, what?" I asked, coming back to the moment.

"I said, I'm going to post those two photos that I showed you, on my social media page." Andrea said.

Andrea and Gail had obviously been talking about our search for the identity of Rick Sheffield's family members, as we were driving now, but I'd been lost in thought and apparently oblivious to their conversation. As it was, I was very uncomfortable with the idea of Mom and Rick's photos being posted on the World Wide Web and Andrea knew it. I didn't like or trust the internet. I guess I'm too, old school to really understand it or care.

...The two photos, Andrea had selected and was referring to, were innocent enough. One was the photo of Rick Sheffield standing next to his forty one Plymouth and the other was of Mom and Rick smiling together on a carnival ride in San Diego, which Andrea informed me, was called the "Scrambler."

"Honey, we have to start somewhere and I can always remove the photos at any time. Please trust me, on this, OK?" Andrea asked, without me having responded to her.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever we gotta do, I guess." I said closing my eyes.

"We'll be home in a few minutes and Connie should be there by now." Andrea said reaching back and squeezing my hand.

'Home' was, of course, Bob and Gail's house and Connie was Andrea's thirty five year old daughter who lived in Phoenix also.

"You doing OK?" Andrea asked, meaning was I nervous about meeting her family?

"I'm excited!" I said smiling, which was true, nervous as hell, but excited.

"So am I, babe!" Andrea replied, smiling, and releasing my hand as she turned back to look out the windshield again.