»
Main Forums
»
Passions in Prose
»
The Pickup
| Passions in Prose |
|
The Pickup |
|
|
kayjay Member Elite
since 2002-06-24
Posts 2015Oregon |
The Pickup. Jack felt he had been quiet long enough. He forced his voice to be calm. “Pete, tell me again how you put my truck in the ditch.” He looked at his teen-aged son and he downshifted for a turn. “Angela doesn’t want to see me anymore.” The mountain road bent back and forth as the sun’s rays shone through the fir and hemlock. Jack focused on his driving. He loved driving in the woods, but didn’t notice the surroundings this time. “You left the campsite to make a phone call?” he tried again. “Why do girls act that way?” Pete’s voice shook. “Who did you want to call?” Jack slowed for a camper, squinting in the slanting sun. “It was her idea to go camping with her family.” Pete’s fingers did a tremolo on the dashboard. Jack struggled with the notion that had his son not needed to make this phone call, his truck would be intact. “You were driving along a perfectly straight road and then you’re thirty feet in the woods? I just don’t get it.” "If we hadn’t gone camping, we’d still be together.” Pete twisted about, trying to get his lanky legs comfortable. “You banged up every thing except the tailgate. Sometimes you can salvage a wreck for body parts, you know.” “I hadn’t been camping since scouts. It seemed like such fun.” Jack banged his hand on the steering wheel. He so wanted to keep his cool. Could that camper go just a little faster? “You totaled it.” Jack shouted the words. The camper pulled into a turnout and Jack jumped on the gas pedal. “We hiked and sang around the campfire. I’ve never been happier.” Tears ran down Pete’s cheeks. “You’re lucky you’re not dead.” The road reached the valley floor and Jack picked up speed. “Good thing those stumps were there, even if they did take out both headlights. I wonder what the odds on that were.” What the holy hell was the kid thinking? “We got in a silly fight over where to pitch the tent.” Pete played itsy bitsy spider with his fingertips. “Pete, I just want to know what you were thinking.” Calm, he told himself, the doctor said to stay calm. “When we got there Saturday morning, I made egg muffins, just like we do at work. Her mother said I’d make a great husband. Angela kissed my cheek.” Pete snuffled his nose. “Didn’t I teach you to keep your eyes on the road?” Jack could hear his voice rise. “In the afternoon, we found this great little path tucked away. The sun through the Douglas Pines made her hair shine…” “They’re firs.” “Huh” “Firs, they're Douglas Firs.” He saw a police car going the other way and slowed down. “Are you listening to me? ”Oh yeah, Firs. Well, her hair seemed red and dark, almost almost glowing in the sun, but black in the shadow. How could she say she doesn’t want to see me? It was such a stupid little fight.” Visions of Angela’s hair came to Pete’s mind. “I don’t have collision insurance. That means you’ll have to pay for it.” The clouds won for a moment and he stopped squinting. “We couldn’t agree about the tent.” “How are you going to do that flippin’ burgers? Can you tell me that?” Jack saw a truck like his, but black. It had a for sale sign. He brightened for a moment, and then couldn’t find a pencil to write down the number. “She wanted to put it in a little depression. If it rained, we’d be in a puddle. You know that, Dad.” Jack glanced in the rear view mirror. I’m not getting any younger, he thought, smoothing his thinning hair. “What am I going to do for work? I’m out of work until I get a truck. Hey, I’m talkin’ here.” “It’s the first thing you learn on a scout campout. I tried to tell her, but she screamed at me.” Pete reached into a cooler on the floorboard and pulled out a coke. “Me too.” Jack stuck out his hand. “Oh sure. Here, let me do the top for you.” Pete wiped down the icy can and popped the can open. Pete swigged his can, handing the other to his father in one motion. “She said it was so lovely in the moon light. The ground was soggy under the leaves.” “I just put a new clutch in the truck. Last year I had it repainted.” “There was even a big root where she wanted to pitch it. Why don’t girls listen?” “Jeez, Pete, I can’t be burnin’ hundred dollar bills.” Jack shifted lanes and slowed to turn in to the neighborhood arterial. “That truck is my living, Pete, I was just getting back to even, after being so broke for so long. Business was picking up.” “She said I was bossing her. She wouldn’t even listen.” Pete tossed the empty pop can on the floor. A rivulet crept out onto the rubber mat. The longest stop light in the world turned red in front of Jack. He was tempted, but saw the motorcycle cop across the street. “Pete, what are you doing? Clean up that mess.” “Oh sorry, Dad, I wasn’t thinking.” “How am I gonna get a new truck? I’m almost tapped out now.” Jack wondered if anyone he knew had a truck for sale. He looked around his tired sedan. Maybe he could carry ladders and plywood on a rack on top. “I’ll never find a girl as beautiful as Angela.” Pete rummaged in his pack for something to eat. “If I can’t get a loan, I can’t work. How are we going to eat? Have you thought about that?” The light changed and Jack started the car, riding two blocks in silence. “Don’t you know, Pete, if I put up the down payment for a truck I won’t have rent money? Will you get real?” “Every guy in school wanted to go out with her. I thought I was so hot. Man, I’ll look like a dork.” Pete bit into a candy bar. Hmm, Jack thought, His tools could fit in the trunk. Man alive, he’d catch ribbing from the guys on the crew. They all had late model pickups. But this kid. Jeez! Jack turned in to the apartment parking lot. “Do you want to live on the street? Jeez, Pete, listen to me.” “How could she dump me over something so stupid? She said she loved me.” Pete pressed the wrapper out on his knee, ironing it with his hand. Jack stopped the car. “Pete, I gotta tell you one thing about life.” “Hey, there’s Bill. I gotta tell him about Angela. Thanks for the ride, Dad.” |
||
| © Copyright 2005 Ken Julkowski - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
This is excellent, Ken. The voices of the father and son, so authentic. I really enjoyed the read! Thank you.  |
||
Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
BRAVO!!!!! Man, I could HEAR that conversation! It was as if dueling stereo speakers were playing completely different tunes, different genres of music. But somehow, they blend together in a reality mix...kind like life usually does. |
||
|
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
This was YOUR childhood, no? NO? LOL... it surely wasn't mine...LOL... Excellent job, sorry for the ribbing, it was too, too true... and thank you. For writing. For being. Now write some more. K |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
