Chapter 4
As she sat, stunned at the thought of what could have happened had not this man come along, Sheila seemed to hear Welma's voice repeating the word, "Attitude."
All right, she'd be grateful. Imagine having to spend a night here in this fog-bound wilderness, waiting for a car, almost afraid to stop one should it come along.
"Okay, shut her off."
The man had come around to where she could see him. He'd wiped some of the mud from his face, but the wiping hadn't improved him much.
Sheila lowered the window to offer a contrite, "I'm sorry I was snappish. Frankly, I was scared. I thought the car was on fire and would explode."
"So that's why you were running."
He had beautiful teeth. He should smile more often.
"I wasn't feeling any too good myself," he confessed. "When your friends said some garage had serviced Galloping Gertie, I had qualms. No orthodox mechanic should be allowed within a mile of her. Your Dad has original ideas about repairs."
Sheila nodded. It was said in certain circles that, given a defunct motor, a saw, and some bailing wire, Nate Norris could set up a gyro camp. He had a way with machinery.
"Like some coffee?" she asked.
"I would."
But when she tried to pour some from the thermos her hands shook, so he took it away from her. "You eaten anything today?"
She shook her head and pointed to the lunch box.
"I was going to picnic when I found some sun."
"Grab yourself a bite and let's get going. You'll have to stop for a refill before you reach the other side. We'll spend the night there. Fog's closing in too much for me to keep track of you in the dark."
Dutifully Sheila grabbed, but when she opened the lunchbox her cheeks turned scarlet. An open-faced letter greeted her, complete with love and kisses.
Of course Andy had thought she'd open the box when she was alone, sitting among the pines, a silvery stream frothing along the roadside. There was a stream, but if it did any frothing it was too far down the bank for her to see.
She couldn't swallow a bite if she tried.
The man wheeled to the truck cab, returned with a nut-filled candy bar, and thrust it at her.
"Eat it even if it chokes you and then get going."
"But I want to ask questions, your name and why you're on the inland route, if you're going to carry the folks and their stuff, and-"
"Talk tonight. Name's Jed Justine. Step on it, and remember I'm trying to keep that truck behind you, so don't loiter."
Sheila got going, firmly believing even her toes were quivering with apprehension, though the car started easily enough. It rolled merrily uphill, or so she thought until she looked at the temperature gauge and saw it too was rolling merrily-up to the danger mark.
Again a turnoff and refill, and Sheila drove on, filled with fresh fear. Jed had taken time to tell her what could have happened had some well-meaning person, who did not know cars, filled the radiator without the motor running. A split block, and this particular car could be left at the roadside for junk.
When they reached a small town at the junction of the main inland highway Jed Justine pulled in beside a motel.
"Take a hot shower, drink some coffee and rest an hour. I'll pick you up and see that you eat properly."
Sheila thought of a lot of striking words, but she was afraid her teeth would chatter if she opened her mouth.
"I'll find a spot, then buy some tools and come back and fix that tin can so we can make time tomorrow."
Sheila longed to say she'd take the car to a garage. She had the money to pay for extensive repairs; hadn't Andy given her that hundred for emergencies? Then she remembered what the last garage had done when confronted with her father's rebuilding job and hurried into the motel.
She hurried back once. Andy didn't approve of ski pants unless there was snow. Nevertheless ski pants were indicated.
"Now that's something like it," Justine remarked when he called for her. "Only your Dad can run that car with the heater going and water in the radiator. I had visions of stopping every fifty miles to chop you out, thaw you, and get you going again. Here, good food, if not fancy."
They had crossed the Interstate Highway, dodging trucks that roared through the fog and cars that crept, and then stopped before a multicolored sign fuzzed by mist.
Inside was a U-shaped counter and a few booths with every seat filled. Jed Justine spotted two men lingering over pie and coffee and fixed them with a compelling eye; whereupon they got up, and left the table.
"I'm not really hungry," Sheila began as the waitress, beaming on Justine, waved a menu at her.
"I am. And I don't intend to sit across from someone who's mincing along. How's the steak, and tell the truth?"
The waitress told the truth, and he ordered chops. Sheila sat amused, studying him. With the dirt off his face and without that disreputable cap he'd been wearing, he was quite presentable, even good-looking. The yellow lights of the cafe reflected copper tones in his hair, much too wavy and a complete waste on a man. He obviously agreed. He'd tried to stick it down with something not advertised on television.
"Now, those questions," he began abruptly.
"Why the inland route if you're picking up the folks?"
"I switched trucks with Danny. This gets delivered to Roseburg. I'll hitch a ride back. Phoned your Dad, and he said I'd better be the one to trail you. You'd wrap Danny around your finger."
"And you don't wrap?"
"I don't wrap. Now one for me. Why did you take this route?"
Andy had worked it out carefully. He'd estimated mileage. He'd also estimated mountains and, with one eye on the old car, had chosen the lesser of two evils. Besides, he had reasoned, the coast route would naturally be more heavily shrouded with fog. But could she tell this man another man had planned the route, and that she, Nate Norris's daughter, had obeyed him?
"Choice of fog. If I had to go over, I preferred a field to a cliff with the Pacific at the bottom."
"Next time check with State Highway. Sea fog blows away. Tulle fog clings. Thought you'd know that."
Sheila felt a primitive urge to raise the flat of her hand to that freshly shaven cheek, because he was right. She had known and hadn't been able to argue Andy out of it.
"Eat," said Justine, and Sheila ate.
There was stationery in the writing desk. Sheila looked at it, thought of Andy and of her promise to write each step of the way, but she couldn't tell him of this step. A postcard would have to suffice.
Nor could she enjoy the television in the cozy warmth of the room when Jed was just outside working on the car, not two feet from shrubs wearing coats of ice.
After the hood banged down, bringing on protesting lights, she tried to sleep. She knew she had because she had such awful dreams. But they were nothing compared to the reality of the next day.
"That overheating yesterday melted a wire," Jed mumbled, after she'd coasted to a barely visible turnout in a dun gray world. "Let's hope there are no more chain reactions, I don't carry a garage set-up with me."
There were no more chain reactions; there was a blowout that made Sheila feel she'd been shot. Why else would the car go out of control, swerve straight into the path of a behemoth with glaring eyes coming out of a tunnel of mist?
When she had limped it to the side of the road, Jed came up. "It would almost be easier to have you try to drive this truck and me the car. That was a gas truck you just missed."
"I planned it that way," Sheila told him sweetly. "I adore blowouts. I arrange for them. I come equipped with radar and know to the split-second when a gas tank is looming. Thrills, you know."
He just gave a grunt, but he exploded when, after moving half the contents of the trunk to the roadside to find the spare, he looked at it. "I thought your Dad liked you. We'll stop in the next town for something with rubber on it."
"He did the best he could under the circumstances," she defended him softly.
"I'm sorry. I should have checked before I turned the car over to you. And stop shivering!"
She couldn't. A wind had come in from some place, and before her amazed eyes was blowing fog before it, revealing to the left a satin blue lake -rimmed by high mountains, dotted with fir-covered islands.
"Everything is going to be all right now," she said, "after three stops for repairs."
"Three times and out." He nodded. "That's Nate for you. If I wasn't afraid Gertie would come apart at the seams, I'd have you drive on to Roseburg; then I'd drive the car back.
But I don't know what that extra four hundred miles would do to her."
Sheila, eyeing the now clear mountains, studied the terrain. "Jed, how is Dad going to use this car getting up to a claim?"
He looked at her, looked away, then looked back. "He bought a wrecked jeep. That's part of the truckload. He plans to use part of Gertie to put the jeep in running order. Danny and I have a halfway good one; we'll see him through."
She laughed freely. "Pick up a coil of bailing wire, will you, Jed? And don't tell the government what it's missing in not having Nate Norris around. He'd die if they closed him in on a missile base."
For the first time she saw approval in his glance and understood why the waitress of the previous evening had brought him the best of everything.
She tried to look deep into his eyes, to let him know that she liked being with him, that she found him attractive-and desirable. He looked back at her, and she watched the twinkle in his eye turn to a lusty gleam. Yes, he understood, she told herself. But could it be happening so quickly? After all, there was Andy to think about and ... and what? No, she knew she had to have Jed. It would be her initiation into a new life, the life in the country, a freer life, a life unfettered by the demands of city living, unrestricted by the demands of rent and gas prices and utility bills. A whole new world was opening up for her, and she wanted to share that now with Jed, intimately.
"Do you think we could go over to your truck for a minute," she asked coyly. "I've never seen a big rig like that before from the inside, and I really don't feel like driving just yet."
"Hey, little lady, don't you think you're moving a little too fast. I think you better hold your horses, that's what I think."
Sheila looked at him intensely, trying to show him with her eyes that she wasn't kidding around. "Jed," she said forcefully. "I don't think you and I have to play games. I think we both know the score."
"Hey," he said suddenly, "I think you're right about that. There wouldn't be anything wrong with a quick trip to the cab of my truck. Nothing wrong at all. In fact, it would be downright uplifting, if you know what I mean."
Sheila felt comfortable knowing that Jed could joke with her like that. She always enjoyed her sex more when she could laugh and play with her partner, because that always made it easier for them to get close-as close as they needed to get to experience the pleasure waiting to be unleashed in their bodies.
Jed fairly hauled her right up off her feet and then pushed her inside his truck. He had a sleeping compartment in the back that was big enough for both of them, and from the way he scrambled up the steps and inside the cab, Sheila could tell that he was eager to get back into that cozy compartment.
"It ain't much," he said, starting to unbutton his shirt, "but it's home."
They both laughed while they undressed, and Sheila couldn't help thinking back to the last time she had fucked with Andy. It had been good, that much was certain, and they had laughed and joked just like she and Jed were doing now. But somehow with Andy, the lovemaking didn't seem as raw and natural. And Sheila knew that was because Jed was more of a man than Andy. Just how much more she wasn't certain, but she was dying to find out.
When she caught her first glimpse of Jed's cock, she was given her first clue to how much more of a man Jed was. His penis was much larger and thicker than Andy's, and she could hardly wait to feel it jammed between her labia, wringing out orgasm after orgasm. She always enjoyed bigger pricks because of the way the hard veined shaft stroked her clit on the outstroke. It was much easier for her to come while impaled on a big penis. She often wondered how women could stand fucking men with tiny cocks.
When they were finally naked, Jed took her in his arms and kissed her rudely. Wrapping his big hands around her shoulders, he pulled her close and then jammed his tongue down her throat. Sheila wasn't used to such brutal treatment, but it didn't take her long to develop a taste for it.
And while Jed mauled her, she tried to caress him tenderly. She thought that would make a good balance to their lovemaking, until the moment came when they were both working uncontrollably toward orgasm. She took pride in her ability to make a man come, and now she was about to make herself proud of her abilities again.
While Jed squeezed her tits roughly, she reached down and gingerly caressed his shaft, moving her smooth hands up and down the full length of his penis. Then she moved her hand down to his testicles, digging her fingernails into the wrinkled skin of his scrotum just enough to cause him to groan with pleasure.
They stroked and massaged one another until the moment arrived for them to fuck. Jed slipped his prick easily into her wet pussy and it wasn't long before they were lost to their deepest emotions. It was tremendously satisfying for both of them.
Afterwards, Jed walked her back to her car, smiling. "I'll trail you over the Sisklyous, then head on," he said. "Better hole in for the night before taking the coast grade."
He went back to his cab, and Sheila got into her car. Like an old horse back on familiar ground, Gertie went into a gallop, and Sheila's spirits galloped right along with her.
Happily she drove on, her mood lasting right down the other side of the range to where a steaming car was pulled to one side, a huddle of children parked on an old running board.
From behind she heard the squeal of brakes and slowed, watching the truck come to a halt through her rear view mirror. Jed jumped down, crossed the highway and went into consultation with the man.
He caught up with her miles farther on, passed and motioned her to a truckers' cafe. Over coffee and hamburgers redolent of chopped onion and catsup and every other type of sauce available, he laid down the final law.
He'd drive easier if she'd stop at a motel. He'd deliver the truck, catch the midnight bus back and be ready to go on with her the next morning.
And Sheila, swaying with weariness, agreed.
It was not even a road to negotiate in the daylight, but she did all right. Jed Justine in the seat beside her slept without a twitch as she maneuvered around the switchbacks.
"Why didn't you wake me," he howled in dismay when she stopped on a coast road swathed in fog. "How did you get us here?"
"Gertie was brung up in these here hills," she intoned. "Now you can play conquering hero and take us to where the folks are camped."
The fog had thinned by the time they reached a state camping ground.
Hope was high. Her father was vibrant with life. Even her mother was amused. And around the shelter they'd thrown up were cars, two house trailers and the two jeeps.
American gypsies, thought Sheila, looking for the women's heads, shrouded in bandanas against the chill air.
Sheila and Jed were swept into the group with warm welcome. Someone called, "Chow," and they gathered on a chilly green bench before a table featuring a vast pot of beans, potatoes in jackets and cole slaw. Sheila had forgotten how good lean-time food could taste when one was hungry.
Talk was constant; everyone deferred to Nate Norris. He'd spent the morning with the county assessor and had a good rundown on available claims.
He figured the couples with children should have first chance at claims near roads, kids having a way of coming down with things that made their folks long for doctors. Older couples would come next. The young fry could take to the hills.
The men would leave immediately, taking sleeping bags with them. The women were not to worry if they were out a couple of days.
Sheila watched the men go off, Jed and Danny particularly. Danny, she'd found, was the antithesis of Jed. More like Andy, she had decided as she'd watched him organizing the party with great attention to detail.
For a little while her mother was busy with the other women; then she joined Sheila on a sunny bench, sinking onto it with a sigh.
"Well?" she asked.
"Andy likes the idea," was Sheila's reply. "I am surprised."
Sheila admitted she had been shocked, then tried to explain Andy's feeling. "I think he studies ahead," she said thoughtfully. "He likes to have an ace in the hole, two strings to his bow, that sort of thing."
"You mean he lives in tomorrow."
"I like to think of it as preparing for tomorrow," Sheila said defensively.
At another time of the year this would have been a fine place to camp, but as the afternoon waned, Sheila envied the men, by now above the fog line.
Lights in trailer houses glowed early, and fretful children added a discordant note to the rhythmic boom of the surf.
"Might as well go to bed," decided Mrs. Norris. "It's warmer."
The men returned the next afternoon, excitement in their voices.
"Bonanza!" Nate shouted, striding across the parking lot. "Mother, I've found us a home, trees, soil, a stream, and right across from it a claim for Sheila."