Finding a job these days is damn tough in Hasting, Nebraska. Johnny Johnson, a big, good-natured kid of twenty-three, was applying for every job listed in the "Hastings Daily." He stopped at the Holiday Inn front desk.
"Need the room number of a Mr. Walter Taylor?" he smilingly ask the clerk, an older woman he remembered seeing around town.
"That would be 2607," she replied, without looking up.
"Here to apply for the truck driver position," he softly said to the casually dressed, smiling, short black man who opened the door.
"Hey Man, c'mon in. I'm Walter Taylor. Friends call me, Tiny. Cup of coffee, and a donut while we do some talking here?"
"Yes. Sounds good," Johnny said, as he passed his resume' to Mr. Taylor, who he immediately thought of as Tiny, since he appeared to be about five foot six, thirty, and had a friendly grin.
After a few moments, Tiny looked up at Johnny. "You married, or do you live at home?"
"I live at home with my Mom, and younger sister, Jenny."
"Well, I don't know how this will play, Big Guy. Here is what I have going. My brother, Ben, and I have a contract to come out here to Hasting Corn Processing to pick up corn syrup, which is to be delivered to Hershey Foods, in Hershey, Pennsylvania, where I live. We will be running three trucks. The reason that I'm looking for a driver out here is that I think that I have come up with a way for all three drivers to pocket a hell of a lot of money that they normally would spend for lodging and meals. What I'm thinking is that when we are out here, we could stay at your house. When you are in Pennsylvania, you could stay at one of our pads. Our wives said that they would give it a try. Any idea as to if the idea would fly with your Mom?"
Remembering that the ad had said the position would pay twenty-eight thousand to start, Johnny was determined to sell the plan to his Mom, since money was tight since his Dad had passed away, after that barn beam had fallen, hitting him on the head, when they were repairing the shed. "Tiny, you give me twenty minutes. I'll go run it by my Mom. Be right back. We have an extra bedroom."
True to his word, Johnny was back in twenty minutes. "All set. Mom thinks that it is wonderful that I'll be eating and sleeping with my Bosses' family when I'm away from home."
"All right. This first trip you ride with me so that I can show you exactly how I want our rigs driven. We never speed, or take risks by driving in snowstorms. That keeps the insurance rates low. You can pick up your rig in Hershey. You will be the first truck back. I see that you live just off route 34 on Hansen Road. Is there a turnaround at your place for a tractor-trailer?"
"Sure is. Before Dad died, we had one hundred and forty cows. The milk truck came every day."
"How big is your place, Man?"
"We have fourteen hundred acres. Mom leases out thirteen hundred and fifty to Mr. Bowerman, who has corn and soybeans planted. Gives us enough income to get by."
"Okay. I'll pick up my load at six AM. Should be able to stop at your house about six thirty. That way you can leave your car at home. It is twelve hundred miles to Hershey, so we will be on the road two days, with one night in a motel."
All went according to plan. Johnny was very pleased with the 1999 Mack he was assigned to drive. Tiny's wife, Marsha, could not have been nicer. Johnny had a hard time thinking of her as his boss's wife. She was a sexy woman, who shunned wearing bras.
Johnny took his assigned trip. As fill in work, Tiny took a trip to Newark, and then took his trip to Hastings. Johnny had come and gone by the time that he arrived in Hastings. He dropped his trailer for loading and drove to the Johnson farm.
In answer to his knock, Mrs. Johnson opened the door.
Sweetly, she asked, "Yes, may I help you?"
"Hi. I'm Walter Taylor, of Taylor trucking."
The woman looked at Walter, as a slow smile spread on her face, she slowly shook her head from side to side. "Your not exactly what I expected."
Walter knew what she meant. "Johnny leave out a detail or two when he talked about me staying here, did he?"
"Yes, he sure did." With a full laugh, she continued, "C'mon in. Your bedroom is the one at the end of the hall."
"Is it okay if I take a shower now?"
"Oh, sure. I'll have dinner ready at five thirty. Burgers, corn, baked potatoes sound good?"
"Boy, do they ever."
During the dinner, the phone rang. It was for Walter. After he finished, he turned to Mrs. Johnson. He addressed her by her first name. "Diane, they have a problem at the processing plant. My load won't be ready until the day after tomorrow. Hope that doesn't inconvenience you?"
"God no. I am delighted to have you around. Tell you what. How about if I make you earn your keep?"
"How so?"
"You interested in going to Grand Island to a night spot called "Charlie's Roadhouse?"
"I'll be happy to go," Tiny answered with some reservation.
Diane laughed. "Hey, you will like it. They don't play country. It is Motown, Do-whop, fifties ands sixties stuff."
"Ya, Lady. Now you're talking. Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, those are my guys. Do you dance to that?"
"I can keep up with you. Lets be out of here by eight."
Tiny was very thoughtful as he sat waiting for Diane to change her clothes. His first thoughts were about if he would like to get into Diane's pants. Not a good idea, he concluded. This set up was turning out to be just perfect for he and his brother, Ben. In a year's time, staying at the Johnson's would save each of them fifteen thousand dollars a year in room and meals expense. Did not want to screw that up, Tiny.
Diane flew down the stairs. She drove her Ford pick-up. As they were bouncing along on the rural road, which seemed to have hundreds of repair patches, she turned to look at Tiny, twice. Then she spoke. "Have to tell you something. Everyone hereabouts knows everyone's business, or tries to. There are no guys in Hastings that interest me. If I was to go out with one of the locals, just to get out, the busybodies would think that he was overnight at my place, whether he was or not. If the town folks knew that I was letting two black guys stay at my place, the local phones would get so hot that they would melt. So, I would ask you and your brother to not discuss our arrangement at the processing plant."
"No problem. The workers there are so busy doing their thing, that they don't pay any attention to us. We are just transit drivers to them. "
"That same problem is why I picked Charlie's in Grand Island to go to. Nobody knows me there.
Charlie's Roadhouse turned out to be a converted skating rink set back a hundred yards off the highway, surrounded by a dirt parking lot. Tiny was surprised to see that the interior was remodeled to be an attractive nightspot, with a raised stage. A Deejay, as well as a small band, made the sounds. There was a good crowd, but the place was not packed, so they found a table right away.
Tiny glanced around. No one was paying any attention to him. He saw in the corner some brothers with girlfriends, as well as some folks that appeared to be Mexicans. Diane read his thoughts. "People hereabouts don't pay much attention to your skin color."
Tiny smiled. "Let's dance."
They stayed on the floor for several dances. Then the band took a break. Tiny and Diane sat down. The Deejay picked up the mike. "Okay folks, let's have some fun. Who wants to lip-sync, or karaoke?"
"I love to do this," Tiny said as he leaped to his feet waving his arms.
When he got to the Deejay he whispered to him. "You got Chuck Berry's, "Johnny Be Goode?"
"Sure do."
"Is it okay to used the Gibson Electric Guitar over there?"
"Sure, Buddy."
"Great Man. Here is what we do. You play "Be Goode." I will do the Berry hop across the stage, like the man does it, with one leg out, skipping, while I work the guitar. When the song ends, give me the mike. I'll get the folks in the crowd doing the dance. Then, if you have "Tears On My Pillow," by Little Richard, I'll do that for you too."
"Here we go folks," the Deejay announced as the large speakers boomed out the sweet voice of Chuck Berry. By the time Tiny finished, the crowd was partly dancing, as they crowed around the stage to watch Tiny. When he finished, the Deejay asked, "Do you do anyone else?"