Mike's Navy: Mike Meets Marlene

Mike mumbles with his mouth full, "That's nice."

She whispers, "I took your advice and carry a good deodorant with me now. I was so embarrassed but you were so kind to me. I think of you often."

Mike swallows and chokes then grabs a swallow of coffee. "I hope you mean when you play with yourself." he winks.

She turns red and elbows him, "Oh Mike, you're awful!" she giggles.

Mike says sincerely, "I was hoping that's what you meant. I would have thought it a compliment."

She studies his plate, "I do think of you sometimes when I do that." She looks up at him, "Now you know!" She's burning up with blushing.

"Thank you, Cocco. That's a compliment for me. You said you live close by and can walk home. Are you walking tonight and would you like some company?"

"I'm walking but I don't get off for nearly two hours. I imagine you'll be asleep by then." She goes on, "If you're around I'd love to have your company."

"Do you live in your parent's home?"

"Oh no, I have an apartment with my cat. Her name's Cocco, too." Mike laughs and she smiles along with him. Then she has to go because a couple comes into her section. She knows them and they greet each other in a friendly manner.

Mike takes his time with his veal and watches his watch. He has decided to take her home and who knows where that might lead. Besides the veal's excellent so he wants to savor it. He thinks over the situation at Valcartier Industries.

He supposes that if worse comes to worse he can haul the load to the west coast through Canada. He wonders what the difference is in miles (or kms).

If he only knew it's the same distance via the Trans Canada Highway but the roads and grades are much easier via the USA route. Time wise there is a seven hour saving via the USA route and the other advantage to taking the USA route is fuel savings thus the employer's choice.

Cocco smiles watching Mike now by himself in her section. It's nearly time for her to leave work and she's looking forward to spending some time with him. A few erotic thoughts chase through her mind as well but she struggles to suppress them or she'll have to retire to the bathroom and masturbate. She has to wait it out and be a lady.

She comes to Mike's table and whispers, "I won't be long. I just have to grab my jacket and purse in the powder room. I'll meet you at the front door." Mike nods and gets up to go to the cashier. He drops a tip on the table.

At the front they're getting ready to close the restaurant. Mike praises the cook for the fine veal as he pays his bill. He waits in the entryway and is soon joined by Cocco. As they leave he asks, "Is that the manager's husband on the till?"

She looks back to make sure they are out of earshot, "Yes, that's him. We aren't doing anything anymore. I think she went after him about us. He just doesn't talk to me any more."

Mike let's her lead and they follow a dirt path back from the highway. "This is a dark passage. Do you walk this trail home every night?"

"Yeah, it's okay most nights. I've only been scared once on this trail and that was harmless. It was a dog."

They pass two lawns with houses set well back on the lots before they reach a two story apartment complex. They go around the building and enter an unlit door. Inside is a hallway and a stairs. Cocco proceeds up the stairs and Mike follows. It's dimly lit here as well.

At the top of the stairs she rounds the railing and goes to the front apartment putting her key in the lock. She whispers, "Don't let the cat out."

She opens the door and Mike crowds in with her watching for a cat. She tosses her jacket and purse in a stuffed chair and spins around, "Welcome to my apartment!" She throws up her arms, "This is where I live." She drops her arms to an outright position and seems to be waiting for Mike to fill them. He hesitates and she drops them. "Come on in, Mike." He closes the door.

To his left is the living room with the dining area farther back as part of the kitchen. To his right are two doors he presumes are bedroom and bath. He's standing on a runner that leads to a door straight ahead. Maybe that's bath, he thinks. He sees traffic moving out the large picture window in the far living room wall.

She scoops up her jacket and puts it on a peg by the door. Mike notes it's an ornate clothes tree. She clicks on a light switch by the door and light fills the living room and entry area. Mike sees bright blue eyes reflecting the light in the living room on the couch. "So Cocco is a Siamese," he smiles.

"Yes, she is. I do love Siamese cats and she's such a character. They have a personality all their own." She calls, "Come on Cocco, here kitty, kitty, kitty." Cocco regards them stoically.

Mike asks, "You don't let her out, eh?"

"No, the highway's too close and the dogs in the area chase cats. She wouldn't stand a chance out there. If she was out at mom's she could go out with their cats."

"Do your folks live close by?"

"They have a farm out by Kingston. That's where I grew up. Me and my sisters. I have two younger sisters in high school."

"So is Cocco your real name or have you had it changed?"

"No, it's real. Mom loves sweets so I'm Cocco, next is Kandy and last is Shugar. We get a lot of kidding, you can imagine. Please, Mike. Sit down. Can I get you anything to drink? Geez, I sound so much like a waitress."

Mike parks on the couch by the cat. He slowly extends his hand boldly to pet it's head. He scratches an ear and she pushes her head to his hand purring. "Wow! I never seen her take to anyone so fast. How'd you do that?"

Mike shrugs, "I don't rush her, just let her do what she wants. I'm no threat."

"Well, it seems to work. Did you grow up on a farm?"

"Nope, I grew up in town, well in a village as part of a suburb of Montreal. Definitely not a farm."

She's thoughtful, "You always seem to me to be someone who is wise beyond their years. I wonder why that is."

"My mother would say I have the wisdom of the ancestors. She was a shaman of the Mohawk. Amongst all the Iroquois nations she was greatly respected."

"Oh, I should have known. My grandmother was Seneca. She died young in childbirth but left four children. Who was your mother?"

"My mother was Mary Morris before she married Duncan Claymore. She was 'she who waits' of the Mohawk." He then pronounces her native name the equivalent of 'she who waits'.

"I'm not sure but I think I have heard the name. We don't keep in touch with native heritage." she hesitates, "She's gone? You spoke like that." Mike nods and remains silent.

"I am so sorry, Mike." she lays her hand on his leg.

He brushes her hand away, "Why? You never knew her. She was nothing to you. So you're Seneca! So what! No one knows me! No one cares!" He gets up off the couch and goes to the door.

"Mike, please," she entreats him.

"This was a mistake." He opens the door and leaves. He stamps back to the truck stop and climbs into his rig. He stares out the window and tears fill his eyes. He feels his heart is tearing out of his body and his stomach feels empty. He cries himself to sleep for parents gone but not forgotten.

Chapter 4

Westward Ho for Sure

Mike wakes early and looks at his watch. 0600 but that is 5:00 AM here. He wonders if the restaurant's open yet. He starts the truck and gets out to close the air valve. It chugs away blowing black smoke in the dawn dampness but soon settles down to a smooth purr. He folds up his bedroll and grabs a towel. He goes in the back way through a bay in the garage and into the showers.

As he showers he thinks of Cocco and how unfair he was with her. He wishes she might come over this morning so he could apologize but doubts she will. It's just another booboo and he'll have to live with it. He checks after his shower and the door sign says the restaurant is open at 6:00 AM. He goes back to the truck to leave his towel and get his thermos.

As he climbs down a voice behind him says, "Good morning, can I join you for breakfast?" It's Cocco and she looks like she hasn't slept all night. Mike's heart goes out to her. He nods her closer and slips an arm around her.

"I'm so sorry I was such a bear, sweetheart. I really wanted to spend some quality time with you but I let my worst behavior rule me. Please forgive me."

She tilts her head, "Kiss me and I'll forgive you." She has a twinkle in her eye. He hauls her close to kiss her long and sweet. She giggles and says, "Let's go for breakfast."

They go inside and find the place crawling with police and firemen. There's been an early morning fire in Spencerville and they all decided to come to Angello's for breakfast. The boss asks Cocco to help them so Mike eats by himself after all. As he leaves he tells her he will definitely see her the next time he's in town.

Quickly he drives to Valcartier Industries in Millhaven and parks by the gate. There's no gatekeeper this morning. It's Tuesday so he thinks there should be. He toots his air horn. He recognizes Ken Daniels as he comes running up to the gate. "Good morning, Ken."

He swings open the gate, "I heard you were coming back this morning. Something about you not being bonded."

He pulls in and Ken jumps on his running board. He says, "Just pull in by the office there."

"My understanding was that upstairs they were going to call Halifax and see if I'm approved. If so they can fax the paperwork."

"Okay, I'll see what I can find out. Hang tight." He drops off and goes into his office. He comes right back out waving a paper, "They already sent it. All we need is your signature. The trailer you want is 1287 in the outgoing lineup there." He points. Mike jumps down and goes to sign the document but Ken says "You can sign it when you get the paperwork for that load. Mike climbs back up and backs across the lot.

He lines up by his side mirror and eases it back to inches from the pin. He looks it over and gets back up in the truck. He backs it under the pin and feels it snap into place. He gives it a tug then throws it in neutral. He hops down to connect air lines and electrical cables then walks all around the load checking tires, seals and signage.

When he gets back to the cab he flicks off the air brakes with a hiss and a crash and let's it coast ahead. He's watching for a wheel drag indicating brake problems or misalignment. Everything looks good so he pops the clutch and shift three times bringing her across the yard.

He parks by the office and goes inside. The clock on the wall says 8:10 AM. They go over and sign papers, the dock worker explains about the procedures at the border, advises him to use the Sarnia crossing into the USA and explains about the consequences of any need to access the load before delivery. In short the load can only be opened in the presence of the receiver.

Mike climbs aboard and pulls out through the gate. He heads for the 401 and pulls onto it westbound at 9:00 AM local time or 1000 by his watch. He thinks it would be nice to have a small clock he could click to change it an hour in each time zone. He doesn't know of any such timepiece.

He sets his sights on Sarnia and the border crossing. It's not long and he's through Oshawa heading into Toronto on the freeway. He flies through North York and is soon in Mississauga. Traffic's heavy but he's making good time even though he's heavy laden.

He passes Milton and is glad to put the city traffic behind him. The area is farmland in all directions and he sees a variety of crops. There's also cattle farming and dairy. It's a heavily populated area. Traffic is heavier here and he has to watch it closely or get caught in a lineup. He still manages to make time but it's harder.

When he passes Woodstock he knows he's within an hour of Sarnia and the border. It's nearly 1:00 PM and his coffee is gone. He will stop near Sarnia for a late lunch.

As he passes the exits to London he watches for the Hwy. 402 intersection. When he sees it he takes the exit to Sarnia. It's nearly 2:00 PM, Tuesday, July 24, 1984 when he arrives at the border crossing. He hasn't seen any truck stops so he asks and the border agent who checks his paperwork tells him a few miles into Michigan he will find a Pilot Travel Center and Truck Stop. Mike puts his paperwork back in his briefcase and prepares to leave.

He smiles to himself, they didn't even check his bonded status even though he's carrying bonded cargo. He pulls through and heads into the USA on I69 west. He feels the difference immediately. The clearances are wider and the lanes better marked as well as the surface flatter with less rises and drops. He watches for the Pilot Center.

He spots the bright red flashing with large white letters PILOT and prepares to swing in. It's after 2:00 PM so he expects it to be quiet but a buzz hits him as soon as he opens the door. He has a choice of Subway, Cinnabon or a crowded house cafe. He chooses the cafe and orders from a menu on the wall. Coffee and a cheeseburger, they give him a number. He finds a seat at a small table in a corner.

"Are you 069?"

Mike grins, "Are you offering? I'm Mike."

She has light brown hair with gray eyes and they are dancing merrily now. "You're bad. I like you! I'm Michelle and here's your order."

"Thank you, Michelle P." he grins, "It's on your pin." He's admiring her C cup breasts.

"It stands for Perky and no snide remarks either. I'm Michelle Lucille Perky."

"My lips are sealed," he draws his hand across them. "And I'm Mike Claymore." He takes a sip from his coffee. "Can you get my thermos filled, please?" He proffers it.

"I'll have it for you at the till." She runs off and Mike watches her go. Very cute, he thinks as he digs into his burger. He checks his map and notes that he heads for Chicago then up I90 to I94. He's on I69 now and that should take him to I94 near Marshall, Michigan, then just stay with I94 through Chicago. Shouldn't be that difficult.

"So what outfit do you drive for? I don't recognize the uniform?" Miss Perky's back. She stands looking over his shoulder at the map.

"Canadian navy, I'm on my way to the west coast."

"That's a big old truck you got there, are you sure it'll make it? I saw you pull in."

"That's a Hayes, made on the west coast in Canada for the logging industry and she packs a Cummins diesel under that hood. Nothing's going to stop her."

"You're pretty cocky, Canuck. I do like you." She bends down to kiss his cheek then leaves. Mike's done lunch so he packs his map in a folio case and follows her to the till. He gets his thermos and bids her goodbye.

"Take care, Michelle." He heads out to the truck and notes it's 3:00 PM local time. Shifting gears quickly with the balky old twin sticks he pulls out onto I69 heading west.

He watches the signs as the scenery changes from rural to populated and bypasses Flint and Lancing, Michigan. Running south now he watches for Marshall and the change to I94. He sees signs for Chicago exit I94 and gets over to make the change. His watch says 5:30 so he knows it's 4:30 local time.

Next is Battle Creek and then Kalamzoo. He drives passed Paw Paw and really scratches his head, "What names," he mutters. Soon he's swinging south again around Lake Michigan. The next fifty miles sees him around the tip of the lake to Hammond. He's in the suburbs of Chicago and it's 7:00 PM. He starts looking for a place to park for the night.

No panic yet but he's tiring and a nice big empty mall would suit him fine or a truck stop. Hopefully with a place to eat and fuel nearby. He keeps watching the exit signs. It's all suburban sprawl as he passes Markham, Hickory Hills, Countryside and Elmhurst exits. He notes it's I290 as well as 94 here. He sees a mall on his right and takes the next exit that says Addison.

It's called Green Meadows Shopping Center and it has a Portillo's restaurant and a Jewels Food Market. He finds a spot on the edge of the parking lot out of the way near the restaurant and under a lot light. It's nearly 8:00 PM so he hopes they're open. Leaving it running but locked he goes into Portillo's. On the door it says open till 1:00 AM. He squints to adjust his eyes to the dim light but notes it's brighter at the bar. He sees a vision of loveliness.

He stumbles to the counter. She's brunette, 20ish and has the deepest brown eyes he's ever seen. Her lapel pin says Katya and Mike stares open mouthed unable to move. She lazily turns those eyes on him and he's speechless.

"What would you like, honey?"

Mike stutters, "You, you have the most beautiful eyes, I, I've ever seen."

She smiles with pink, soft, full lips. "Why, thank you. You look pretty good yourself." He just stares at her.

"Wha, what does a hot dog restaurant sell?"

"You'd be surprised. We're talking a Chicago hot dog. Have you seen one? Hang on, an order's coming up." She turns and a paper plate is handed to her with a large thick hot dog with tomatoes, peppers, mustard, green onions and special sauce and on top of all that is a wedge of pickle. On the side is crinkle cut chips with a cheese sauce.

Mike just stares at it before commenting, "That's a hot dog and a half. So that's Chicago style, is it?"

"Yep and we also have Italian meat sandwiches, soups and salads, chili and burgers, deserts and beer or wine. Did I say sandwiches both beef and chicken as well as fries with or without chili, cheese sauce, crinkle cut or plain. Have I got your head spinning?" She laughs good naturedly. "Have a look at our menu." she hands him one.

Mike looks it over, "Can I get one of these?" He indicates The Beef n' Cheddar Croissant. "Maybe cheese curly fries with that and a beer. What kind of beer do you have?"

"We've got Bud and the new Bud light, Old Milwaukee, Miller Draft, Coors and Blue Ribbon."

"No Canadian brews, eh?"

"Oh dang, you said eh! Your Canadian, aren't you? I'm afraid we don't have any Canadian beers. Try Pabst, you'll like Blue Ribbon."

"I'll have that then. Do you get a break? I'd love to sit down and chat with you. That and just look into those enchanting eyes."

"I don't think my boyfriend would like that. He spends my breaks with me." She looks to the door, "He should be in soon."

"How be if he doesn't show?"

She laughs, "Okay, if he doesn't make it I'll sit right with you for my break." Mike turns to the door and watches.

He asks, "What does he look like?"

"A lot like you. Are you Italian background?" Mike shakes his head. "Greek?" He shakes again. "Your not Arab or Egyptian?"

"Nope, Native American and Scottish."

"You're Indian?"

"Yep, Mohawk and of course a civilizing influence from the Scots." he grins. She peeks over the counter at his feet. "Nope, no moccasins... or were you checking the size of my feet?"

She turns beet red and looks away. Mike goes on, "I know the old saying about the size of an Indian's feet being the size of something else." She's shaking her head in the negative as he asks, "Where is that boyfriend of yours?"

She spins around and dials the nearby phone. She waits and then asks, "Where are you?" She listens. "Well, you could have told me." She's fuming now, "Yes, it does leave me in a spot." and adds, "Never mind. I'll see you tomorrow night." She slats the phone down and regard Mike with a smile. "I guess you win."

"How long a break do you get?"

"Usually half an hour but I'm five minutes late so twenty five, I guess. Where do you want to sit?" She comes around the counter and calls another girl to cover.

Mike leads the way and he goes out the door. She figures a picnic table in the lot but he goes to the truck and unlocks it. She demands, "What is this? I said in the restaurant."

"Sorry, you said and I quote, 'Okay, if he doesn't make it I'll sit right with you for my break.' I didn't hear anything about in the restaurant. Hop up."