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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.
