Now, here in this wonderful place you’ve made for us. It smells better than Christmas and Easter all rolled into one. Mmmm.”
“Rise and shine, Ariel, it’s a quarter to five!”
Dolly’s voice was so cheerful Ariel groaned and then tossed her pillow in Dolly’s general direction. “I was having such a nice dream. Now I have to get up and drive an eighteen-wheeler around a parking lot. Then I have to shoot a gun for hours and after that I have to kick the hell out of someone and bow and say what fun it was. Does that instructor really expect me to be a pro in three weeks? Double clutch, oh yeah, and when does he think I’m going to get the hang of that satellite computer screen? Not today, that’s for sure. And that log book . . . how are you supposed to drive, type messages, receive messages, talk on the CB, and keep your eyes on the road? Trucking is not an easy job. I have to get certified on doubles, triples, and tankers. It’s going to take me a year to get my CDL. I can’t remember if that’s the federal license or what it is. How am I supposed to remember all of this?”
“The same way you memorize a script,” Dolly retorted.
“It’s the practical application I’m having trouble with. That double clutching is what’s getting to me. Push clutch in, transmission is disconnected, go to first gear, let clutch up, move slowly, push clutch in, move to neutral, take foot off clutch. It’s like neutral is a gear itself.”
“What’s for breakfast? I’d like French toast with lots of butter and warm syrup,” Ariel called on her way to the bathroom.
“I’d like that, too. Unfortunately, we’re eating donuts and drinking coffee on the way. Shake it, Ariel, we’re already running late. It’s pretty raw out, so dress warm.”
Forty-five minutes later, Ariel climbed into the tractor. When she exited the cab three hours later she felt like she’d done double duty with a gila monster. Her stomach was in knots as she eyed the instructor warily. “I will do this. I’ve got it down, but if you keep talking to me about trucking, I’m going to make mistakes. If you have to talk to me, talk about something else. Okay?”
“Well, sure, Miss Hart, if that’s what you want. What would you like to talk about?” Not waiting for her response, he rambled on. “Looks like you might have a fight on your hands with a few of those renegade truckers Asa kept on the payroll. My advice to you, and I know you’re new to this business, is get rid of them now before they really brew up a batch of stuff you won’t be able to deal with. This is just scuttlebutt, but sooner or later it all filters down here. That Chet, he’s all set to stir up the workers at the different ranches. He’s got a hate on for Lex Sanders that goes way back. He blames Sanders for his two brothers’ deaths. It wasn’t Sanders’ fault those guys were drinking behind the wheel and drove down into the ravine. All old Chet would say was it was Sanders’ fault and he had to pay. The insurance paid damages, but because they were drinking, there was a problem. Sanders is a decent guy and he treats his wetbacks better than anyone around.”
Ariel’s right arm shot out, knocking the instructor against the door. “Don’t you ever refer to those workers in that manner again. If you do, none of my people will take these lessons and I’ll cancel the program. Refer to them as workers or laborers. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’m. It’s just a term. Everyone uses it. My wife is always on my case about it. Sometimes I forget. When you’re around men who talk like that all day, you tend to do the same thing.”
“That’s just an excuse, Mr. Norbert. I said what I had to say and you said what you had to say. Now, why is Chet stirring up the workers? What does he hope to gain?”
“He’s got a top dog mentality. Asa kept him on because he’s one of the best drivers around. He likes to drive hazardous materials because the pay is
“Rise and shine, Ariel, it’s a quarter to five!”
Dolly’s voice was so cheerful Ariel groaned and then tossed her pillow in Dolly’s general direction. “I was having such a nice dream. Now I have to get up and drive an eighteen-wheeler around a parking lot. Then I have to shoot a gun for hours and after that I have to kick the hell out of someone and bow and say what fun it was. Does that instructor really expect me to be a pro in three weeks? Double clutch, oh yeah, and when does he think I’m going to get the hang of that satellite computer screen? Not today, that’s for sure. And that log book . . . how are you supposed to drive, type messages, receive messages, talk on the CB, and keep your eyes on the road? Trucking is not an easy job. I have to get certified on doubles, triples, and tankers. It’s going to take me a year to get my CDL. I can’t remember if that’s the federal license or what it is. How am I supposed to remember all of this?”
“The same way you memorize a script,” Dolly retorted.
“It’s the practical application I’m having trouble with. That double clutching is what’s getting to me. Push clutch in, transmission is disconnected, go to first gear, let clutch up, move slowly, push clutch in, move to neutral, take foot off clutch. It’s like neutral is a gear itself.”
“What’s for breakfast? I’d like French toast with lots of butter and warm syrup,” Ariel called on her way to the bathroom.
“I’d like that, too. Unfortunately, we’re eating donuts and drinking coffee on the way. Shake it, Ariel, we’re already running late. It’s pretty raw out, so dress warm.”
Forty-five minutes later, Ariel climbed into the tractor. When she exited the cab three hours later she felt like she’d done double duty with a gila monster. Her stomach was in knots as she eyed the instructor warily. “I will do this. I’ve got it down, but if you keep talking to me about trucking, I’m going to make mistakes. If you have to talk to me, talk about something else. Okay?”
“Well, sure, Miss Hart, if that’s what you want. What would you like to talk about?” Not waiting for her response, he rambled on. “Looks like you might have a fight on your hands with a few of those renegade truckers Asa kept on the payroll. My advice to you, and I know you’re new to this business, is get rid of them now before they really brew up a batch of stuff you won’t be able to deal with. This is just scuttlebutt, but sooner or later it all filters down here. That Chet, he’s all set to stir up the workers at the different ranches. He’s got a hate on for Lex Sanders that goes way back. He blames Sanders for his two brothers’ deaths. It wasn’t Sanders’ fault those guys were drinking behind the wheel and drove down into the ravine. All old Chet would say was it was Sanders’ fault and he had to pay. The insurance paid damages, but because they were drinking, there was a problem. Sanders is a decent guy and he treats his wetbacks better than anyone around.”
Ariel’s right arm shot out, knocking the instructor against the door. “Don’t you ever refer to those workers in that manner again. If you do, none of my people will take these lessons and I’ll cancel the program. Refer to them as workers or laborers. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’m. It’s just a term. Everyone uses it. My wife is always on my case about it. Sometimes I forget. When you’re around men who talk like that all day, you tend to do the same thing.”
“That’s just an excuse, Mr. Norbert. I said what I had to say and you said what you had to say. Now, why is Chet stirring up the workers? What does he hope to gain?”
“He’s got a top dog mentality. Asa kept him on because he’s one of the best drivers around. He likes to drive hazardous materials because the pay is
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