Longest time out on the road

Nothing to do now but ride. I tell myself not to let it bother me, but only kidding myself.
Of course it bothers me. Not getting dumped. But not knowing why.
All she had to do was tell me she didn't want to go. I wouldn't have liked it, but would have been better than all this secrecy and drama.
And I thought she was a keeper too. Goes to show you just never know. Better to find out now than later on I reckon.

Next stop, Villa Rica, Georgia, about four to five hours, depending on how Atlanta treats me.
Top off the tanks there. That's as cheap as it gets all the way to the west coast.
I'll call Bondo then. Get him to try to find something I can load friday out there.
Stick some Def Lepard in the cassette player. Try to zone out some and hammer down.
Smooth sailing into Georgia. I keep forgetting about the new weigh station.
Used to be, when you got on I-20 in Florence SC, your first set of scales was in Missisippi.
Times they are are changing. Who knows, Alabama might build some one day. Keep up with the Jones.

I hated turning down breakfast at Betty Boops but just didn't have an appetite with everything that happened.
I'll get me some lunch here at Villa Rica after I fuel. I tried to call Bondo from the payphone, but no answer. Hmm. That's strange.
I had me some pinto beans and cornbread and chased it down with sweet tea.
Decided on some banana pudding and a second glass of tea, more to kill a little time than anything else.
Give Bondo a chance to get back from wherever he is. Can't figure out why is secretary isn't there at least.
Miss Luanne has always been there when he was out. Never told him, but I'd rather deal with her anyway. Seems like a smart lady.
Well, I've been here an hour, try it again. Still no answer. Well, the heck with it. I'll try in the morning.

Got my second wind now. Quiet Riot cranked up in the tape deck. Bangin' my head.
A few miles into Alabama I saw a familiar truck approaching eastbound.
I reduced the volume on Metal Health just in time to hear a familiar voice saying "Mustang" on the CB radio.
"What's goin' on Jackrabbit?" I answered.
"Tryin' to get to big A on time big buddy. You going out yonder?"
"Yeah buddy, doin' that deal one more time. Be in LA friday"
"I know you can do it hero. Oh, when you top that next hill, might want to hit the left lane.
Big truck blew a trailer tire. Made a big mess too. Whole cap came off. Took out his mud flap, bracket and all.
Don't know if he pulled over on not. If he didn't, he won't get far"
"Ok Jackrabbit. I appreciate it man. Just gas on it to Villa Rica. See ya next trip"

Went ahead and eased over to the left as I topped the hill, and sure enough, there was the peeled off cap in the right lane followed by a twisted scap of metal that once was a mud flap bracket.
But that's not grabbed my full attention. I was focusing on the Confederate flag emblem on the torn off mudflap laying on the center line.

 

great reading so far. keep it up. job well done.

 

This is gittin good! i sense some confrontation comin on! hey does rickie pack heat?

(the only thing that would suprise me is if Big Tex had rebel flag mud flaps! )

 

64 days...

 

ohh this truck driver is gonna be in a world of hurt. toook his woman!

 

If you read Shark Killer you know the answer to that.

 

oh ya! i forgot that this Rickie is the same Rickie in shark killer! a .45 semi-auto correct?

 

Shark Killer is recent. This was in the eighties. Just have to wait and see what he was toting back then.

 

No, he didn't make it very far. Five miles maybe. Well short of the truckstop.
From back here, I could see smoke roiling off the remaining tire.
What a dummy. Why buy one tire when you can buy two. Probably not his truck anyway.
Another driver pulling a flatbed had pulled over in front of him, probably offering a ride or an offer to stop and make a phone call.
I didn't intend on stopping, only slowing down for a good look.
Daisy was correct. The cabover Kenworth was nearly the spitting image of mine, with the exception of the exhaust.
A single stack in the back as opposed to the twin six inch straight pipes on mine, which they got an earful of when I flipped the jake.
COAST2COAST PRODUCE-GreenvilleSC
Should have known. Cut throat outfit.
Didn't get a look at the driver, but saw a despondent looking Darlene standing in front of the truck.
As angry as I should have been, I couldn't help but feel bad seeing her like that.
I couldn't read her expression, but I'm sure she recognized the truck as I eased by.
Oh well babygirl, enjoy the ride. You're on your own now.

I tried to put it out of my head and cover some miles. Stuck Joan Jett & the Blackhearts in the tape player.
Made me think about Joan up in Jersey. That made me smile.

 

Welcome to Texas. It's about time. My butt is about wore out. 900 miles in 14 hours.
I think I'll stop in Longview at the 599, about another half hour. Try Bondo in the morning.

Ring,ring
"Good morning, B & L Brokering, may I help you?" Luanne answered when I called at eight a.m.
"Well good morning to you too, nice lady. About time yall came to work" I joked.
"Sorry if if you tried to call yesterday. Things been kinda weird around here. This is Ricky, ain't it?"
"Yes maam, it is. What's wrong Luanne, you don't sound so good"
Instead of answering my question, she asked me where I was.
"I'm in Longview" I told her.
"Oh good. I hate to ask you this, but do you think you could stop by the office? It won't be far out of your way.
It's in Grand Prairie, only a quarter mile off the freeway"
"I'd be happy too Luanne. What's up?"
She avoided my question again and proceeded to give me directions to her location.
I told her I would see her in a couple of hours.

Easy to find. Just a single wide trailer on a dirt lot. I figured Bondo wouldn't invest too much in fancy overhead expenses.
Fortunately there was a big empty lot next door to park in.
As I climbed out of my cab, I couldn't help but notice a county sheriff's deputy getting into his car.
Tex said Bondo was about crazy as hell, so I guess there's no telling what he done got into.
I tapped on the door and walked on in.
Having no idea what Luanne should normally look like, since we had never met, it was plain nonetheless that the woman was emotionally distressed.
I also noticed several large flower arrangement scattered about the place.
"You must be Ricky" she said with a sad smile.
"Yes maam, it's me" I replied.
Without preamble, she simply said "Bondo is dead"
Then she broke down crying, not for the first time I'm sure.
I felt awkward just standing there. Not knowing what else to do, I approached the desk she was sitting at.
She looked at me like I was a long lost friend and rose from her chair.
She seemed almost embarrassed to embrace me, but I pulled her close and assured her it was ok.
The top of her head nestled just under my chin and her dark hair smelled of fresh cut flowers.
I soon felt the tears soaking through my shirt as she sobbed and attempted to explain.
I told her it was ok. What ever she had to tell me could wait.
The phone began to ring, but it went unanswered. Now I understood.