The Gear Jammer & The Hitchhiker

They sat down, and Mac said: "I already know what I want, do you need a minute or..."

"I need something hearty, but go ahead and order for me," she replied, trusting him. Mac nodded and took both of her hands in his. "I know how grateful you are, but I want to make sure you know that you don't have to do...more. I'll get you home."

Amy opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, she heard, "Well kiss my grits! If it ain't Big Mac, how you doin' sugar?"

"Hey, Jo, hows my favorite hash slinger?"

"Doin fine, doin fine, What can I get ya?"

"We'll start with some cow feed with Italian dressing, while you drag two Wimpys through Wisconsin and make 'em squeal Joan of Arc on the side and a couple of barley broths."

"Got it shuga, be right back with the drinks and salads," and she turns and walks away.

"Bacon cheeseburgers with fries and beer sounds perfect," Amy said.

Mac smiled at her, leaned back, and stretched his legs out, relaxing from the stresses of driving all day.

"Mac, can I be serious for a minute?"

Mac looked at her, the smile leaving his face as he nodded.

"You know my dirty laundry and I barely know anything about you. What's your story? Why do you lose your accent sometimes?" Amy asked.

Mac looked at her, the right side of his mouth curling up in a smile. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked, all trace of the redneck gone. Amy nodded. "My real name is Salvatore Vicente De Klerk, I'm Italian, Spanish and German. I was born in Queens, NY, and lived there till I was 15 when my folks moved to Lonk Kisland. I used to talk like Joe Pesci in My Cousin Vinny. I got a lot of grief from truckers who are mostly from the South, so I created a redneck persona to fit in."

Amy laughed, "So, You're a Yankee like me, that good ole boy stuff is total bullshit."

His face grows serious. "No, Amy it's not bullshit, it's who I am. I may be from The Rotten Apple, but I should have been born in Texas. Growing up my heroes were Andy Griffith, Bo, Luke and Uncle Jesse, Cordell Walker, The Lone Ranger, Cheyenne Brody, Josh Randall, Paladin, and the like. I learned from them to fight for what's right and help anyone who needs it. I remember clearly Uncle Jesse once saying. 'A stranger is just a friend you ain't met yet.' I've always remembered that and did my best to live by it."

"I'm sorry Mac, that was a feeble attempt at a joke."

"fuggedaboutit," I replied as we both laughed.

"As for the rest of my story, pa was a garbage man making okay money, but his union went on strike, we were down on our luck. It was tough, so tough. So he got together with a few of his buddies and they pooled their money and bought a few trucks. Dad was the only one who was successful. The others sold their trucks and went back to work collecting trash. Dad almost tripled his income during his first year on the road. He was able to buy more trucks and hire drivers for them. Eventually, he had 10 trucks and 3 dispatchers."

"He was a great gear jammer, but not so great with business. As technology advanced he couldn't afford to keep up, so bigger companies, with computers and satellite tracking were able to underbid him, and eventually, he sold the company, lock, stock, and barrel. He tried to retire, but it wasn't in him to sit around at home all day. He'd always loved the ocean and was in the Navy before he met momma. So he took a job as a mate on the S.S. Pinkeens, a charter boat. One day he went out on what was supposed to be a three hour trip with five passengers. The boat and all seven hands aboard were lost in a sudden storm." Mac looked away, wiping a tear from his eye.

Amy reached out and took his hand while he got control of his emotions. "That was almost nine years ago, the week before I earned my Eagle Scout." Mac went silent for a moment, looking out the window. Amy sat there rubbing his forearm, waiting until he was ready to continue.

"Here's ya salads and beers," Jo said, putting them down on the table.

"Jo, bring me another," Mac said, then slammed half the longneck down in one gulp.

"Mac, you okay?" Jo asked.

He nodded curtly, "Jus tellin' Amy here about pa." Jo stood still for a second then gave a quick understanding nod and walked away. "Be right back, gotta put the laundry in the dryer," he told Amy as he stood up and walked stiffly away.

Amy watches his back until she could no longer see him. She sat there fidgeting until she saw him returning to the table. She could tell that he'd been crying and her heart was breaking for him. He sat down without talking and took a bite of his salad. He looked at Amy who was awkwardly eating with her left hand, while her right stroked his left forearm. "I still can't look at the damn plague or medal without crying." He took a deep breath and finished his salad without another word.

"In scouts, I got my SCUBA certification and as soon as I'd graduated High school, I got a job in a dive shop to help pay for online classes at Villanova. I admit part of the reason I took that job was the hope that I could find the wreck of the Pinkeens, but the ocean is huge and the boat was only a forty footer. I never found it. At twenty one I got my CDL and became a gear jammer like pa. At twenty-two, I graduated Summa Cum Laude from Villanova. I majored in Business with a double minor in marketing and communications. Two years later, I earned my M.B.A." He slammed the rest of his beer.

"Dad had a huge insurance policy with an accidental death rider. The fucking insurance company tried to weasel out of paying, claiming it was an act of god. I took them to court and asked them to prove that it was the storm that sank the boat. They had no proof and were ordered to pay the claim, court costs, and legal fees. Pa had left instructions to give momma half and the rest held in trust for me, Autumn, and Junebug, until we turned twenty-seven. Autumn got her money two years ago, I'll get mine in 8 months and Junebug still has five years to go. Autumn and Junebug agreed to invest in, and work for my company. I also have a few other investors and a legal firm on retainer. We're ready to go. This is the last load I haul for someone else. Starting next week, I work for myself."

Amy's eyes went wide, she had no idea that he was so much more than a truck driver, "Mac, I'm so sorry about your dad." she said squeezing his hand. Mac nodded "Amy, can we eat in silence, please? I ..."

Amy nodded in understanding, giving him a sad but sweet smile.

Jo brought Mac his other beer and the food. Mac and Amy devoured their food, not realizing how hungry they were. Soon there was nothing on their plates but a few puddles of slowly congealing grease.

Mac needed time to shake off the disquiet that had overcome him. By the time they finished eating he was almost back to normal. He wiped his face with the napkin, dropped it on his plate, and took the last sip of his beer. Sighing in satisfaction he took Amy's hand.

"Thank you. I needed time to regroup, talking about pa is still rough."

Amy lifted his hand and kissed it. "I'm sorry I made you..."

"No, I need to talk about it, it's the only way to heal. But enough for tonight," he grabbed an unused paper placemat and flipped it over. "When we were at the rest stop, I called the contact for my load. They stop accepting deliveries at two pm on Friday. That's doable as long as there's no traffic, accidents, or delays. So here's my plan..."

He sketched a rough map, "We leave here at 5 am Wednesday morning for Nashville ETA three pm. Leave Nashville at 1 am Thursday morning for Baltimore ETA noon. Leave Baltimore at ten pm Thursday ETA Allentown 1 am Friday. I'll drop you off...,"

When Amy heard him say that, her heart fell. She didn't want him to leave her, but she knew he couldn't stay, he had a delivery to make and a business to start.

"...and get up to Boston to drop my load, and then come back to Allentown and help you with your momma for a few days."

Amy's heart jumped when he promised to come back to her, she was so happy, she leaned over and kissed him, excited he was going to be with her for a few days, "but don't you need to work on your business," she heard herself ask, as she mentally kicked herself.

"I do, but most of what I need to do can be done over the phone or by email. I can do that from anywhere. Besides, you'll need some help, you can't do it alone. So I'll work on getting SAJA Cartage up and running from Allentown instead of Freeport."

"SAJA?" Amy asked.

"The four key officers of the company, Autumn the CEO, Sal the C Marketing Officer, Junebug the CFO, and...Amy the COO. That is if you were serious about becoming a gear jammin', freight shakin, bulldog drivin', beaver." He looked at her. "If you were, you've got a job and the best damn gearjammer in North America to teach you, over the next two weeks."

Amy's head was spinning, he was staying in Allentown to help her, he was offering her a career. Tears welled up in her eyes, she jumped up and wrapped her arms around Mac's neck. Thank you, Mac, and yes I want to be the second-best gear jammer in North America.

After having some dessert and telling her a bit about the plans for SAJA, Mac paid the bill and they returned to the laundry room. Mac taught her how he rolled his clothes to save space and keep outfits together.

Once their clothes were folded, they returned to the truck. Mac showed Amy where he kept his food and drinks and closed the privacy curtains. Amy changed into her sleepwear, while Mac watched.

She reclined on the mattress and looked up at Mac with big doe eyes. Looking down at her, he says "We killed two hours, only eight more before we can get back on the road. So darlin', you got any ideas about how we could pass the time?"

Amy smiled as she crawled over to him. She leaned in and kissed him full on the lips. "Oh, I have an idea or two," she said lustily as her hand reached for his belt buckle.

8========D

I am debating writing more chapters to this story, but I want to see how it is received first. If there's a demand, I'll write each leg of the journey as a separate chapter. If there's little to no interest, I have dozens of other stories waiting to be finished. Your call dear readers.

Whether or not you liked this story, please let me know. I don't get paid to write. Your comments, votes, likes, follows, and shares are what encourages me to continue writing. Feedback is a gift, and I like gifts.