The 3rd Early Rideout of West Grand

He started laughing and spit out. "She says she's going to name him Early Rideout the 4th."

"Fuck man, give me some of whatever you are smoking."

He had to have a buzz thinking that was funny even though I laughed right along with him. I had tried to fuck a baby into Roberta a long time and then just gave up. It didn't seem to bother her and to tell you the truth I liked not being burdened down with kids. Although, now, being 40 years old, I kind of had a different outlook. Still, there's no way that baby could be mine after all those years and effort.

Darrell and I pounded a couple more shots before he started to bundle up to fight the storm again. I was going to stick around the store and man the radio while letting Sirius channel 23 take me through a bowl of Darrell's special homegrown. I ended up sleeping in the easy chair next to the stove.

The next morning it was still snowing and we had 26 inches of fresh snow. I hooked up the plow blade to my truck and cleared the lot and then went down to Pete's and plowed out the full lot as best I could so folks staying there could get out. The road had been plowed a couple times over night but there was still around four inches of snow on it since the last pass. The weather had not yet broken and we were looking at maybe another 4-6 inches on top of what we already had.

My two ladies showed up early and had been cooking breakfast since 6AM. I had us plowed out by 7AM and the diner had filled. The big rigs would probably stay put for the most part until the storm broke. A few had headed out after I plowed the lot but all in all we were still snow bound.

I was taking a break on the throne in the restroom when a couple of the truckers came in to take a piss. The conversation was rather enlightening.

"Whatever happened to those two hot fucks that used to work here? You ever see them anymore?" One fellow asked.

"You must mean Lisa and Roberta. I think Roberta's old man caught her with Tommy Thorne's fucking horse cock buried balls deep in her, at least from what I've been told. I didn't believe it myself but she ain't here any more so maybe it's true." The other fellow replied.

"Well, if I knew she was offering up that fine ass, I'd have paid good money for a piece of it." The first fellow said again.

"She never would no matter how many times we tried. I think one fellow from Madawaska offered her $700 to spend the night with him down at Pete's but she never would. He didn't have any more money left or he'd have offered more."

"So how did Tommy get a piece of it?" Said the first fellow

"That's what nobody knows. She apparently never did any tricks with anybody before Tommy. Now that Lisa? That horny little bitch was grade A road stop pussy, boy. Grade Fucking A, but pricey as hell; $250 bucks, everything included but not a dollar less. I never did her here but I understand she used to work that little peach down at Pete's on occasion. Since they hung out together so much people figured she would put out too but she never did until Tommy, supposedly."

The two truckers concluded their chores, shook it off and headed back to the diner. I sat there a bit longer trying to assess this revelation and make some sense out of it. I pretty much ended up with the same question as the truckers. If she hadn't peddled her ass before or at least until she did it with this dude Tommy, what in hell would have convinced her to fuck her marriage and do it then?

I guess there are some women who have that big penis syndrome wanting to at least try it out once but that didn't seem like Roberta to me. Then again, I didn't expect to see her tucking money into her panties right after fucking some trucker john in my bed either. If I didn't have a wild truck stop whore for a wife, I at least had a highly selective truck stop whore. As for Lisa, I still wanted to strangle that bitch.

By early afternoon, the storm broke and the road crews went up Rt. 1, three, one right after the other. That put the truckers back on the road and the store started to clear out. Total snowfall was 30 inches by the time the sun popped out and then the temps started dropping fast. With an Arctic Clipper front pushing the storm out to the east, we were about to go into a January deep freeze for several days.

The weather girl wasn't kidding. We were plunged into 20 degree below zero temps for several days and a lot of the secondary roadways were building up black ice. When it gets like that the accidents start piling up. One of the kids working for me wrecked her car driving to school one morning and a couple rigs jackknifed between Topsfield and here so I wasn't surprised when my scanner went off one evening about a wreck up the road at Waite. The responders replied they were transporting two women to Calais and had treated another at the scene.

I saw the EMT vehicle pass down by the store on the way south and shortly after one of the state troopers who responded pulled onto the lot and came into the store. I knew him from previous calls out on Rt.1 and he worked out of Troop J over in Ellsworth.

"Early, I hope you are doing OK this evening. I know its sure better to be in here than out there, that's for sure." He said

Trooper Tony LaPierre was a familiar sight to most of us around here. He had even been stranded here at the store overnight a couple years ago during a bad ice storm. One of the biggest land locked salmon ever caught on the lake was hauled in by him four years ago. It was just a tad over 18 lbs.

"Early, one of the women taken to the hospital was Roberta. I heard the two of you were no longer together but I thought you should know. She still has you down as an emergency contact. Just so you know she's going to be alright. She's got a busted leg and probably a couple broken or cracked ribs. Otherwise she'll heal up OK.

The other girl, I don't know. She was in a real bad way when they strapped her in but these guys are pretty damn good. She's a girl named Lisa, Lisa Smart from up north of Waite."

I was a bit shocked to hear the identities and while Roberta might not have been my favorite person at the moment, I was seriously concerned. I got a couple mugs of hot coffee into Trooper LaPierre and he headed back down the highway after giving me updated contact information. Maybe against my better judgment I decided to drive to Calais Regional Hospital.

When I arrived, both girls were being treated through the emergency room and surgery. After a couple hours of waiting, one of the nurses informed me that Roberta was being taken upstairs to the post-surgical ward and that if I wanted I could go on up. All she would tell me about Lisa was that she was still in surgery and her family had been contacted.

I don't know what it is about hospitals and county lockups but for some reason they both like pea soup green paint. I sat in the waiting area upstairs staring at the sickening wall paint and watching the second hand of the clock go round and round 90 times. By then I figured they would have Roberta in her room and all the nursing crap out of the way and I could go up and go in the room.

I was wrong and waited upstairs another 30 minutes before I walked into her room.

"Roberta, you are looking like shit tonight."

She glanced at me through her drug induced haze and smiled nervously, very nervously. Her torso was bandaged up and one leg was in a cast to her hip and elevated above her body. Other than a small cut on her scalp she looked OK.

"I'm not going to stay long. Trooper LaPierre stopped by the store and gave me the story. It looks like the other car hit a patch of black ice and crashed into you and Lisa head on. I guess she's still in surgery and the driver of the other car was treated at the accident and somebody picked her up."

She just nodded and before she could open her mouth to reply, she started crying all over the place.

"I'm sorry, Early." She cried.

I held up my hand and told her to stop. I didn't want to hear it right then. I just wanted to make sure she was OK and if she needed anything I'd let her aunt know.

"I'm going to want to talk to you later but this isn't the time. "

It was a long ride back to the store. I stopped off at Darrell and Sally's place first and gave them an update on the matter. I like Sally an awful lot but she was working overtime on the "Roberta loves Early" game and I wasn't playing. Darrell just fixed me a ham sandwich and sent me on my way telling me he was going to stop in before the weekend because he was going into the Lake to shovel off his roof. It was late by the time I got back.

Roberta was discharged four days later and she went over to Dover to stay with some of her family rather than stay with her elderly aunt in Calais. Lisa Smart, the little bitch, came out of her surgery without too many complications. She was going to have a gimp walk by the time she fully healed up but other than that she basically healed up normal.

I didn't hear from Roberta for a long time. Not long after mud season, Lisa paid me a visit out at the store. That surprised the hell out of me to tell the truth but she wanted to talk to me and she had a couple letters from Roberta she was asked to give to me.

Now, I really didn't want to talk with the bitch. I blamed her for a lot of the trouble although Roberta was fully responsible for her own choices for whatever reasons she might have had. Nonetheless, when Lisa said she wanted to talk private, upstairs, I acquiesced and followed her gimp ass up the stairs. It was still cute.

She helped herself to my good rum without asking and settled at the kitchen table before sliding a couple letters across at me.

"Early, I want you to just listen to me for a while and not interrupt. Can you do that?" She asked me.

I merely told her that it depended on what she was going to talk about.

"The truth, Early, the simple truth."

So she started in.

"Early, you remember when I first started hanging out here and Roberta hired me? Of course you do, you couldn't keep your eyes off me when you came in for lunch."

"Watch yourself, Lisa, that was because I didn't trust you and for good reason."

"Well, that's too bad for you then. Anyways, Roberta listened to me. I told her what happened and what I used to do and she didn't judge me for a minute. I also told her why I quit at Pete's and didn't sell my ass any more.

I quit being a whore, Early, because a trucker nearly killed me one evening when I wouldn't get in his truck and go to who knows where with him. He beat me senseless and if another trucker hadn't walked around the corner just then I think he would have killed me for sure.

I decided right then and there I was done with it. Everybody around here knew I was a whore and wouldn't hire me for shit. But, Roberta was different. She saw me for who I really was. Her."

I must have looked surprised or befuddled.

"That's right, Early, I was just like her. Now I'm not telling stories out of school. She wants me to tell you this. That's why I'm here. Otherwise, I wouldn't step foot in this bad memory ever again. When I'm done, I'll be gone and out of this fucking county for good.

I'm guessing you think I whored my pussy out of your store. Am I right, Early? That's what you think, isn't it?"

I didn't say anything.

"Well, I didn't. I haven't been with a man since that night at Pete's. My two kids live with my sister and probably will till they get out of school. They'll get proper care that way.

A man's dick hasn't touched my pussy for a long time, Early Rideout, and I couldn't predict when it'll happen again but when it does it won't come with a wad of cash out of some bastard's pocket. Roberta understood that. She knew me better than I knew myself. She was a whore just like me. You didn't know about it. Hell how could you? It was before you ever met her."

I really looked surprised at that point.

"Yes, Roberta was selling herself in Bangor years ago, before you met her. Her old man started pimping her in a bar down on State Street and she got out of that life when another girl turned evidence for the state against him. She left it all behind and all was great. Then she met you and didn't think it could get any better. That's when her old man got out on parole and, well, you had your run in with him."

I just kept listening.

"Her life was real good and then it went completely to shit. When she was working in Bangor, there was a guy that used to do her on a regular basis. He didn't just do her. He used her any way he wanted. The motherfucker showed up here one day and everything went bad from that point on. The bastard still had pictures from Roberta's working days. They were bad, I mean , real bad if you didn't know anything about it.

He threatened to get them in your hands if Roberta didn't give up a piece of ass, "for old times' sake", the cocksucker said. She tried to call his bluff and told him you already knew but he just said he figured you'd be curious to have a few images to go along with the knowledge.

Roberta got really fucking angry at that point and got right in his face. She was crying and furious. He just grabbed her by the wrist and told her she could give him the fuck of his life and he'd even pay for it to make it special or she could kiss her happy marriage away. She went outside with him for a few minutes and then I saw them going up stairs."

Lisa stopped at that point because she was crying. I was just shocked and didn't know what to say.

"Early, you caught her doing what she thought she had to do to protect her marriage and now, not only did she fuck that miserable creep, she lost her marriage anyway. Yeah, it was a fucked up choice and decision but it's done and over with. She told me that was the first and only time she ever fucked anybody except you since the two of you met at some place called the Town Line, I think, yeah, in Abbott and it's cost her everything.

Now, she's going to be a be a single mom on welfare just like me living with that fucking rat pack over in Dover. That's right, she's got your kid in her belly, you fucking prick."

Lisa stood up and downed the rest of her tumbler of rum.

"She wrote the letters to say pretty much what I've told you and apologize for her stupid mistakes. There's also an address where you can send the divorce papers and she'll sign them and send them back to you. Jesus Christ, what a fucking mess. A 20 minute mistake and the world took a giant shit right on her head."

Then she was gone, down the stairs and off to who knows where.

I know there are men who find it impossible to get over the disturbing notion that another man fucked their woman. It is as if that alien cock forever tainted her pussy and made it inoperable. I don't think I'm one of those guys but the idea of selling pussy to any Joe Blow who comes down the pike is bad enough for a single woman. It's a deal breaker if the woman is your wife. Now, for me, the question is that really what happened here.

I wanted to trust and believe Lisa but I was having a hard time believing her. Roberta should have known that all she had to do was come to me and tell me about all of this and I would have put an end to the peckerwood's designs. I might have been a good bit pissed about hiding her past but her trust in me would have outweighed that by a long shot. Regardless, she was over in Dover and I was here.

I read her letters. They pretty much agreed with what Lisa told me. Tommy Thorne was a guy she used to see off and on during those years and he was always infatuated with her. He had even tried to get her to go out with him when her old man was sent to prison in Warren. Eventually, he gave up and she had not heard from him until he showed up again a couple times at the store. All the apologies and remorse was there in the letters but there was also a sense of resignation. Roberta was acknowledging that she knew what she did, killed our marriage. She didn't want to burden me with the baby although she insisted it was mine.

Well, if the baby was mine, not that I was convinced of it, I sure wouldn't shirk my responsibilities. Every kid deserves a Dad in their lives and this one was certainly no different. Now if it wasn't mine, the whore better start looking for Mr. Big or whoever did put the baby in her belly. I guess we would know the answer as to whether it was mine or not before long. According to her letters, she was due in September which would put the knocking up sometime in December. That was about the time that bastard tapped her and I sent her packing.

That was also the last time I had been laid and it was beginning to affect my attitude. Five fingers and a palm were not much of a substitute for 10 years of regular pussy. Of course there was always Pete's place if I wanted a whore but until I discovered Roberta whoring herself that day, I had never succumbed to that. Over the years I have had my share of opportunities to step out on Roberta but I never did. There are a couple of girls who have always shown the interest and still do but both of them are married and I'm not going to fucking cuckold either one of the fellows. They are both good guys.

I still hadn't filed for divorce so what happened over Memorial Day weekend was probably not right but it happened nonetheless. Darrell and Sally were hosting a weekend cookout at their place on the lake for a small gathering of people subject to good weather which it was. There was a lot of beer and booze and a good full quart size bag of Darrell's premium bud.

Sally has a sister named Sue from over in Dexter that I had met a few times in the past. She had a husband once but she kicked him out of the house when she came home and found him in bed with the underage teenage girl next door. They never had any kids so it was pretty much an effortless divorce. There was just their apartment and some crappy furniture along with more debts than assets. It really didn't matter much. As soon as the girl's mother heard about him fucking her daughter, she had her boyfriend chase the guy out of town and nobody has seen him since.

In any event, Sue and I ended up running the outboard up the lake to Sally's old cottage. We had a bag of weed and a couple six packs and before the sun had set, I had the pleasure of sinking the Johnson deep inside that little delicious pink, blond haired pussy. Sue was an older version of Sally but in absolutely fine shape. After 10 years with Roberta, Sue was an entirely different experience altogether. Roberta took fucking to an art form. Sue made exquisite love and took her time; two totally different experiences with two very different bodies.

We spent the next day together and Sunday evening, she spent the night with me above the store. Everybody got together for another cook out on Memorial Day and she headed back to Dexter with another girl she came over with. I'd like to think we could have had something going between us but even though we got together a couple more times that summer, it was really a fuck buddy relationship. Nonetheless, it was a damn good one while it lasted.

By late summer the kids were getting ready to go back to school and we switched the store hours back to 6AM until hunting season opened for birds in October. I still hadn't filed papers for a divorce from Roberta and hadn't heard anything from her since Lisa hand delivered her letters back at the end of April. The questions of my paternity for the kid in her belly was still in the air and while something inside of me tugged at my conscience to believe what Lisa had told me as well as what Roberta had written, I had lingering doubts. I know this might sound harsh but I've never heard a whore tell the truth about anything and I don't think the whores' code of dishonest sisterhood had ethically changed in the last few months.