“I don’t know. I can’t imagine we were, or we’d be dead. I think it came awfully close though.”
I heard the traffic humming overhead, sparse but steady. I was antsy because I couldn’t imagine a police car wasn’t about to happen by. The rain began falling again and within five minutes we were mud--free and drenched.
We stood there for another fifteen minutes before a Peterbilt semi--trailer truck drove toward the on ramp from the north. It geared down, pulled over behind us and stopped. The door opened and a guy shouted, “Need a ride?”
“How far you going?” Dekker called back.
“Colorado. You’re welcome to ride along. Plenty of room.”
“What if he recognizes us?” I said.
“My own grandma wouldn’t recognize me like this,” Dekker said. “Let’s go.”
I got a good look at the driver’s face—-it was round and pink and smooth. He didn’t even look like he shaved. He wore jeans and a T--shirt and a billed cap that said Bad to the Bone. He was a smiley, laughy person. I was grateful Dekker got in first and sat in the middle between us.
“Did y’all get caught in the tornado? I saw it from a ways away, but wow. Name’s Ray,” he said, holding out his hand to Dekker, who shook it. Ray kind of saluted me, but I turned away.
“I’m Ted,” Dekker said. “And this is Jenny.”
“Jenny. I like that name,” Ray said.
“You don’t by chance have any water in here, do you?” Dekker said.
Ray pointed over his shoulder. “There’s a cooler behind the seat there. Help yourself.”
Dekker pulled out two bottles of water and handed one to me. I opened it and drank it down without stopping. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was. Ray leaned forward, giving me a smile. I looked away again.
“We appreciate you picking us up,” Dekker said.
“This is the best part of my job, picking up folks like y’all.” He laughed to himself. “Y’all like jokes? What’s the hardest part about eating a vegetable? Putting her back in the wheelchair when you’re done!”
That one didn’t even make any sense. I decided right then I wouldn’t talk to Ray or even glance in his direction at all.
“How long you been driving a truck?” Dekker asked him.
-“Couple years now. It was great when I started, but then they put the GPSes in the trucks so you can’t make as much money anymore, you know what I’m saying?”
“Sure,” Dekker said. “That’s too bad.”
“So what do you call a thirteen--year--old girl from Missouri who can run faster than her six brothers? A virgin!” Ray laughed at his own joke.
Dekker smiled politely and rubbed his eyes.
“Does she ever talk?” Ray said, pointing at me.
“It’s been a tough day,” Dekker said.
“She don’t need to talk, I guess,” Ray said. “That’s fine. That’s fine. Want to hear a joke about my dick? Never mind, it’s too long.” He laughed some more.
I was so sleepy. The gentle vibration of the truck, the comfortable seat, the droning of Ray’s voice. I shook my head trying to stay awake, trying to stay vigilant, but my eyes were so heavy, I felt like I could fall asleep with them open. Ray and Dekker chatted, and the last thing I remember is Ray saying, “You know why they call it PMS? Because Mad Cow Disease was already taken!”
That was the last thing I remembered before the slowing motion of the truck woke me up, and it was ungodly bright. I figured we must have slept through the night and into the afternoon, but then I saw the blazing fluorescent lights overhead.
I needed something to eat and to go to the bathroom.
Dekker’s head was on my shoulder. I shook him. “Wake up,” I said.
His eyes fluttered open and he smiled at me and stretched.
Ray was alternately watching us and out the windshield as the truck rolled to a stop. We were parked between two other semi trucks.
“Just gonna make a little stop,” Ray said. “Just a little stop. Whyn’t y’all come inside?”
“What time is it?” Dekker asked him.
“About three A.M.,” Ray said.
I opened the door and climbed down, and Dekker followed.
“You fell asleep like immediately,” Dekker said, yawning.
We followed behind Ray, who kept glancing over his shoulder at us, as if he was afraid we weren’t going to go in or maybe rob his truck or something. Bright light emanated from a glass door that Ray held open for us.
Chapter 19
I'VE ALWAYS BEEN slow to wake up, and Oma loved to make fun of my morning zombieness. She knew never to tell me anything important within thirty minutes of rising. I was especially reluctant to wake up now because I’d been dreaming I was onstage at the Uptown, playing the drums to cheers and applause.
I was reliving the dream as I led Petty through that side door, and it took me a good twenty seconds before I realized what I was looking at.
It was a giant sex toy store.