A Hunting We Shall Go Wendel

CHAPTER ONE

MIKE AND TRUDY

"Michael, I've made up my mind! How long have we been sleeping together? It's over a year now and you've told me I'm your mistress since June. If Crystal is ever to have a brother or sister, if I'm ever to have more kids, and you know I want to, then we should start now. Don't you want to have a baby with me? I know we've been waiting until I can afford to get my divorce, but we aren't getting any younger. Please see it my way."

"Trudy, I have too much on my plate as it is. You know that Nina is pregnant. Even though her and her husband, Jeff, have moved down to Toronto, she keeps in touch. She still insists I come down and sign the birth certificate. Marlene has decided we should have another one. She went off the pill two weeks ago."

Trudy runs her hands lightly up and down his bare chest and says, "I don't care about them. It's my biological clock that concerns me. If I wait until you don't have another woman pregnant I might be waiting forever!"

"Trudy! I'm not that bad... am I?"

"Here in the dark in your big old truck your just what this girl needs. Are you finished? You're starting to go soft on me. Get your mind back on what we're doing." She wiggles her butt and brings his mind back to the business at hand.

Much later as they lay exhausted, Trudy cradled in his arms, Mike says, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier. I know you've given this a lot of thought and it's unfair of me to tell you what you can and can't do with your body. I'd love to have a child with you. The timing is difficult for me, but I see your side of it. I'll leave it up to you, but please tell me when you stop taking the pill. Okay?"

"Okay, I'm stopping today."

"You just finished your period a few days ago. You might get pregnant this month! Why not wait till the end of the month?"

"You said it was up to me, didn't you?" She giggles in the sleeper of Mike's Kenworth. She reaches up to pull his head down so she can find his lips with hers. "Let's make us a little boy this time and I'll call him Mike Jr."

Lazily Mike says, "I though another little Trudy might be nice. Let's go get a bite of breakfast." They get dressed and climb down out of the big blue Kenworth with CPX on the side. They head into the Husky Service Center in Golden, British Columbia.

Mike Claymore drives truck for Canadian Pacific Express and Transport (CPX) out of the terminal in Port Coquitlam (POCO), British Columbia, Canada, near Vancouver on the west coast. He's twenty-nine years of age, six foot and one half inches tall, with wavy black hair, dark complexion and brown eyes. His high cheekbones bespeak his native Indian lineage that has blended so well with his Scottish ancestry.

Trudy Garneau, on the other hand, is just less than five foot tall with the natural blondness of her Anglo Saxon heritage, although Mike says she has some wildcat in her family tree. Born Trudy Millicent Black, she got pregnant and married a boyfriend in the Canadian Forces from Quebec. She was fourteen at the time, a PMQ's brat whose father was in the Military at Summerside, Prince Edward Island. Now her daughter, Crystal, is six and Trudy is separated from her husband pending a divorce. When Mike met her she was a truckstop waitress in Laidlaw, near Hope in the Fraser Valley. Since then she has become Mike's mistress and partner in his security business. She often rides with Mike when he has overnight runs.

It's early morning and the truck stop in Golden is not too busy. Mike goes to the truckers' showers and checks, then steps back to the door and beckons to Trudy. She slips in under his arm and strips for a quick shower. Mike stays at the door keeping lookout. He jokes with her, "Are you sure you can reach the taps, love?"

She sputters under the downpour of water and says, "I can reach your spout, can't I?" She's a small image of loveliness smothered in soapsuds and lather. As the water washes the cloud of suds from her she emerges, golden tresses stringy with water, flashing blue eyes and an impish grin, twin breasts of perfection for her frame that stand on their own, a trim, tough body flaring out into bold hips that contain a bright bird's nest of kinky yellow hair secreted between with just a hint of her full vaginal lips buried there. Two shapely legs complete the picture and, despite their recent love making, Mike feels a burning desire in his loins as he watches her in the shower.

Quickly she towels herself off and dons her clothes again. Mike notices that she hasn't got any panties or bra and smiles. The only time he has ever caught her with panties on was when she was having her period. She carries two pair in her overnight bag, 'For emergencies' she says if asked. In sweater and skirt, she ties her light saddle shoes and says, "Your turn. I'll order coffee. Don't take all day."

Mike slips off his boots and socks then gets out of jogging pants and sweatshirt. He steps into the shower then backs out to lather up. His strong tan frame becomes splotched with white foam as he works the soap over his body. White suds cover massive strong shoulders and some even fleck his slightly visible Adam's apple. Long arms hard from years of work massage the soap into his chest hairs, then around to cover the flaming wheel tattoo on his shoulder with "Born to Drive" imprinted across it. He lathers his washboard stomach and lean waist. His semi erect penis protruding from a mass of jet black kinky hair catches some splashes of suds as he goes lower and works the soap into his groin. It protrudes a bit more with the attention his lathering causes around his sack, then relaxes as he bends farther to soap long muscular legs. Stepping back towards the shower he absently works soap along his manhood, pulling it out and massaging the soap along the shaft and under the head around the foreskin. An objective observer would say he is unusually gifted in the size of his organ. He lets the water sluice away the suds and smiles a smile that's reflected in his twinkling eyes as he enjoys the hot cascade.

Toweling off and dressing, he whistles a dirty ditty known as the North Atlantic Squadron. He comes out into the service center and goes to the cafe to join Trudy.

"It's about time. Where you been? Playing with yourself?"

"Trudy. Trudy, Trudy. You're impossible. Is that my coffee? It's cold."

Jena, the head waitress and self appointed protector of 'her girls' from those lecherous truck drivers, nudges his elbow and says, "Michael, you kept this poor girl waiting for so long your coffee got cold. You should be ashamed of yourself." She's grinning as she says it and proceeds to pour him a fresh cup. "I'll take that cold cup. What you having this morning, Mike? She's already ordered."

"How about the Husky's special Trucker's Delight breakfast. I'm hungry enough to eat a horse."

"Horse isn't on the menu. I'll bring you the Trucker's Delight." She retires to the kitchen.

They are on their way back to the Fraser Valley from Calgary. They brought a single long box to Calgary from the coast and are now hooked up to a shorter trailer called a pup. There is another pup waiting for them in Sicamous at the Husky Service Center that was brought that far by a Calgary rig who was picking up a trailer left the previous week by another truck from Kamloops. In this 'relay style' system many trucks meeting from across the country pass a load east or west, but if a customer wants what they call 'Expediter' service, some rigs haul trailers direct. Mike is a hauler who fits between the two systems.

His big Kenworth is economical enough for the long hauls but he has promised his wife, Marlene, that he won't take long hauls because he would never be home. The maximum he is on the road each week is four days, but he averages about two and a half.

This is a two-day run to Calgary but he will stretch it into three and sleep in Chilliwack tonight with Trudy, his mistress. She reaches across the table now and places her hands on his. "When are you leaving for the hunting trip?"

"I've taken holidays starting next week. A lot of the folks are taking their trailers up Friday night, but we aren't leaving until Saturday morning. I hope the rush of holiday travelers has eased up a bit then. I'll be picking up Marlene's brother's rig sometime before the weekend. He says it's all ready to go but Marlene has to pack it before Saturday. I'll probably pick it up Thursday night. I'll expect you to show up early Saturday morning. You figured out how you're going to dress?"

She wrinkles her face into a mischievous grin and says, "I bought an old pair of Levi's at the second hand store and I'm going to wear one of my ex's white shirts with the sleeves rolled up. I plan to wear no makeup, glasses and a kerchief around my head." She laughs, "I was going to wear a straw hat, but I thought that was too much."

"As long as you don't look the least desirable. She knows you're my secretary in Chilliwack looking after our security business, so she will be suspicious of you, no matter what. I trust you to give her the least to worry about."

Their breakfast arrives and Mike digs into pancakes smothered in syrup with eggs on top. A side dish of hash browns with bacon on one side and sausages on the other, a second saucer with three slices of toast and that completes the main course. Trudy enjoys bacon and eggs with hash browns and chili sauce. It comes with two slices of toast. Jena refills their coffees and says she'll be back. Talking ceases while they eat their fill.

Mike supplements his income by taking on security investigations, formerly for a local security service, but more and more now, independently in the towns of Abbotsford, where he lives and Chilliwack, where Trudy lives. The two towns are in the Fraser Valley only about half an hour apart via the freeway, the Trans Canada Highway or Number One.

His background includes working for the Canadian Penitentiary Service (CPS) in Ontario at Kingston and Millhaven. This is where he acquired his security training. Prior to that he was in the Navy as a truck driver. It was ten years ago when he was driving for the Navy that he met Marlene. She loved to ride in the truck with him every time he came to B.C., until she got pregnant and they married. He got out of the Navy and settled in Ontario with her and their son, Richard. Then Shelly came along two years later and Janet the year after that.

Mike decided the life of a prison guard was not for him so they packed up and came to B.C. They settled in the Fraser Valley near her folks in Abbotsford. They own a condo in a complex only a block and a half from the MSA Hospital in Abbotsford. Mike acquired a private investigator's license working for ABC Security Services in Abbotsford but found there was not enough work to keep him busy. That's when he got hired by CPX at the POCO Terminal to drive truck. He greatly enjoys both. He got the tattoo on his shoulder to prove his love of trucking when he was in the Navy. The use of one's wits to outfox the criminal mind suits his temperament as well. He's happy with what he's doing.

Mike strikes up a conversation with Jena when she brings them more coffee and stacks their empty plates to take back to the kitchen. "Were you ever married, Jena?"

She looks him over as if he's being impertinent. "I am married. My husband works out at the mill in Donald. He's been a foreman there for ten years now."

"Isn't that something? All the time I've come in here, and I've seen you coming and going in your green Ford out there, I never saw you with anyone else. Doesn't he ever come around? You'd think he would worry about a hot looker like you being here with all us evil truck drivers."

"We been married almost twenty years now and I don't think he's ever taken a step into this place when I was with him. After that many years I think he trusts me, don't you?"

"How long you worked here?"

"Twelve years come Christmas. And I'll probably put in another twelve, I dare say. They've been good years for us."

Mike drinks up the last of his coffee and glances at Trudy. She nods so they get up and get ready to leave. Mike pays both bills and notices Jena has dated the one yesterday so he can claim both. He goes back and adds to the tip he's left on the table, then escorts Trudy out to the truck. He helps her up the ladder on his side of the rig and fondles her bare bottom as he boosts her up. She glances back and winks at him with a giggle as she piles over his seat and parks herself on the black, padded console next to his shoulder. Mike tromps down on the accelerator and the idling diesel throws up a cloud of black smoke as the revs increase. He backs off on the pedal, depresses the clutch and selects a gear. Releasing the brakes with a crashing hiss, he guns it again and lets out the clutch. It jerks ahead out of the ruts it's settled in then rolls as he shifts again. Hard on the pedal, release and shift, he keeps the revs up and the black smoke belching as he rounds the truck stop and, checking traffic with a glance, pulls out on Number One westbound. It's Tuesday, day two of this trip and they're headed back to the valley and home.

Steam is rising off the flats in the early morning sun as they roll along beside the Columbia River towards Donald. Mike says, "It's easy to see where they got the name Golden from for that town, isn't it?" Across the river are the Selkirk Mountains and from the river's edge to the tree line, about twenty miles away, the forest of trees is a bright autumn golden hue. He thinks of the fields on the prairies of ripe Canola, bright yellow as far as the eye can see. This is what the trees of the Rocky Mountain Trench where Golden is located remind him of. Traffic is light and the CB chatter is minimal. Mike puts in his favorite country tape and cranks up the volume. In the large, dark cavern of a cab the music swells to sound out over the dull roar of the diesel and he taps his hand on the wheel, keeping time. Trudy dozes a bit; her eyes drooping and popping open.

After they round the bend at Donald, cross the Columbia and start the climb into the Selkirks, she yawns and says, "I'm going to bed for a while. Call me if you get bored or sleepy." She crawls through the curtain into the sleeper. Mike's too busy gearing down for the grade to pay much attention to her. He nods but she's left already. With only a pup on behind he climbs quickly and has to watch his speed on the sharp turns near the top. Through the S turns then up again. He matches the revs by ear with the gears he selects, not even glancing at the tachometer.

Time flies and soon he's on the long grade for the lodge at the top of Rogers Pass. After a long climb he enters the snow sheds and pops out, one after the other, then barrels along on relatively level ground passed the lodge. He gears down with the help of the Jake brake and swings into the brake check point just a mile past the lodge. He climbs out into bitter cold and sparkling sunlight.

The mountains and glaciers stand out in sharp relief of silver and black shadows. He climbs down in a cloud of his own breath and circle checks the rig and trailer for brakes and tires. It's slippery underfoot although there is no snow here in the lot. Hoarfrost coats the pavement and small puddles are sheets of ice. He's glad to climb back up into his warm cocoon.

Without further ado he finds a gear, rolls ahead, shifts, shifts and puffing smoke, rolls back out onto Number One, starting the downgrade. As he watches his speed he rolls down into shadow and his Jake brakes bark out, using the vacuum of his engine to retard the tendency to speed up. Light braking of the trailer brakes keeps the rig in line and allows controlled descent to the valley floor below where he lets it roll unretarded through the curves and flashes back out into sunlight. Within a few miles he's entering the snow-sheds on the western side of the pass. He flashes into darkness, then back out into light, over and over again as the roar of the diesel deafens then lessens in sync through the tunnels.

Within an hour he's overlooking Revelstoke, where smoke drifts and hangs over the town in the morning stillness combining with mist to obscure parts of the community. The pavement is dry and Mike is making good time. No stop here, he stays on the Trans Canada Highway for Three Valley Gap and Sicamous.

A few miles short of Sicamous he senses a movement over his shoulder and glances that way to see Trudy peeking at him through the curtain. She winks and smiles a greeting. "Where are we?"

"Five minutes from Sicamous. You hungry?"

"What time is it?"

"Nearly noon."

She climbs out of the sleeper and sits by his shoulder, "I guess I'm hungry, then."

Mike starts gearing down for the Government weigh-scales just before the Husky Truck Center. He goes to pull in then swerves back onto the highway when he notices the 'Scales Closed' sign near the highway. He pulls into the Husky yard instead and starts looking for the other pup. It's around behind the buildings so he proceeds by the pup and aligns his load with the one to be hooked up. Watching his mirror he maneuvers the rig back to within feet of the second unit.

He jumps down from the cab followed by Trudy. He shows her where he wants it and from experience, she nods and sends him back to the cab. She waves him ahead a ways, then signals with one arm a small turn then both arms come up to indicate straight back. He backs and watches her upraised hands come closer and closer together. When she still indicates about two feet he feels the pin engage the lock. Trudy bends over laughing and Mike just grins and shakes his head. He climbs down to hook up air lines and get the bills.

She's still grinning when he gets back to the pup so he says, "No lunch for you, smart aleck. It's a good thing I wasn't coming back any faster than I was. Scat! I'll be right in for lunch."

She heads for the cafe as Mike checks tires and brakes, then pulls the train around to the side of the yard where he is sure no one is going to park in front of him. Backing up with two trailers can be difficult. He climbs down and joins Trudy inside. She waits for him to use the washroom. Then they go into the cafe together.

After they order Trudy says, "What's in this one?"

"More Canadian Tire goods."

"Have you ever hooked up to three trailers at one time?"

"Sure, but the only place you can legally do that is between Calgary and Edmonton on the prairies, where you have six lanes. It's the length that's illegal elsewhere."

"How would you ever back that up?"

"Very carefully! Actually, you don't have to. It's terminal to terminal direct with a good size yard at both ends. I don't think anyone could back for any distance with three trailers."

"I bet you could. I've seen you wheel it back at the terminal in POCO with two. I've also seen other guys come in and drop one, spot the other, then hook up again to spot the second."

"It takes a lot of practice and a good sense of where your loads are at all times. I don't always do it that well, either."

"I think you're the best." She grins, "That's not flattery, that's a statement of fact."

"You're prejudice, my love."

They finish lunch and return to the truck. Soon they're on the road to Kamloops. The fall colors are in the woods and reflect across the lakes in the still afternoon sun. The peace is shattered by a din, then a roar as the big blue Kenworth with two trailers labors up a grade only to top it and whirl away to the west. They descend into Salmon Arm then climb away across wooded hills and mountains to Chase, Monte Creek, and Kamloops.

After a stop at the scales it's only a few hours over the Coquihalla Pass to the Fraser Valley. They may make it by dark if there's no snow in the pass. The road is clear to Merritt and they start the climb.