Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Warehouse Auction (5)
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3:30 a.m., and my eyes snapped open before the alarm even went off.
Today was the day for a long haul up to Salt Lake City in Utah.
Rustle-
I got out of bed and peered out the window. The trailer park was still deep in slumber. Only the occasional flicker of streetlights illuminated the streets.
I filled the coffee pot in the kitchen out of habit and set it brewing. While it dripped, I sat at the table and reviewed today's schedule. Load construction materials in Austin and head to Utah. Round trip: 2,400 miles, nearly two full days on the road.
Click!
I poured the finished coffee into my mug and took a sip. The bitter tang of cheap brew chased away the morning fog in my head.
"Mm..."
Then Dorothy from last week's barbecue party crossed my mind. Even while Nancy was running around excitedly, she'd kept glancing at her watch. When I asked later, she said she had an early shift the next day.
'Lately, Dorothy's seemed extra worn out.'
On top of that, the state of her trailer park kept nagging at me. Trash strewn everywhere, drunks causing a racket from morning on. And Nancy mentioning how over half the streetlights were busted, leaving it pitch black at night.
'Maybe she should just move to our trailer park...'
Rent would be a bit higher, but it was way safer and cleaner. Plus, if we pitched in to watch Nancy now and then, it'd take a load off Dorothy. Sam seemed to think the same when I brought it up last time.
[03:50 AM]
Glancing at the clock, it was nearly 4:00 a.m. She'd definitely be up by now—early shift again, like she said.
I hesitated, then picked up the phone. It rang twice before Dorothy answered.
"Hello?"
She was awake, as expected. Her voice sounded parched, heavy with fatigue.
"Dorothy, it's me. Jake."
"Jake? What's up at this hour?"
"Sorry for the early call. Just wanted to talk before heading to Utah today."
"...About what?"
I cut straight to it.
"How about moving to our trailer park with Sam and me? I'm serious."
"...Moving? What's this all of a sudden?"
She sounded flustered.
"I've been thinking about it for days... Raising Nancy alone while working—it looks exhausting."
"Haah... No choice. Everyone lives like that."
Resignation laced her tone.
"But wouldn't it be better if you didn't have to? We could help with Nancy."
"...That'd be too much trouble for you guys."
"Trouble? You know how bored Sam gets? He'd love having a granddaughter like Nancy around."
A sigh came through the line. I poured more heart into my words.
"And honestly, your trailer park... the environment worries me. From what I saw last time..."
"I know. I'm aware. Noisy nights, drunks, crazies everywhere..."
Her voice trailed off.
"...Nancy can't even play outside. Too dangerous. Even a little playground would help."
"Ours is pricier, but it's quiet and safe. The manager doesn't let weirdos in. There's a small playground, kids Nancy's age too."
"Really?"
Interest sparked in her voice for the first time.
"For real. Move here. We'll get you a new trailer on our side."
"Rent?"
"$750. Hundred bucks more than yours, but think about it: no early drop-offs for Nancy, gas savings, your energy. It balances out. Say yes, and I'll scout places."
Silence stretched. I could feel her crunching the numbers.
"But Jake... why go this far?"
"Because we're family."
"...Family?"
"Blood or not, isn't family about helping each other? I lost my parents young, grew up under Sam—my uncle. He became my dad. We could be that for each other. What do you say?"
A sniffle came over the phone.
"Hey, Dorothy? You okay?"
"Sorry... just... so grateful..."
"Crying at dawn? Where's that tough Dorothy from back in the day?"
"Shut up, dummy... How do I tell Nancy? She'll be too excited to sleep if I say we're moving near you."
I couldn't help but chuckle.
"So you're coming?"
"Yeah... if it's really okay. As long as you won't regret it later."
"Regret? I'm looking forward to it. Hearing our little princess's laughter every day."
I hung up and headed to the truck. A warm glow settled in my chest.
It took an hour to load the construction materials at the logistics center. Pallets of cement bags, rebar, and plywood filled the trailer heavy.
"Jake, double-check the weight."
Jose, the loading guy, looked concerned. I gave him a thumbs-up.
"Spot on at 40,000 pounds. No worries."
"Drive safe to Utah. Heard lots of construction on the Colorado stretch."
6:00 a.m., and we rolled out for real. North on I-35.
Texas mornings were already muggy. I cranked the AC and tuned the radio.
[Central Texas hitting 98°F today...]
Three hours to the first stop. Passed Waco; the Brazos River came into view, bone-dry in spots. Texas summers always thirsty.
Bypassed Dallas-Fort Worth to dodge traffic. Big cities were always a mess, especially morning rush.
CB radio crackled with chatter from other truckers.
[Accident near mile marker 287. Stick to the right lane.]
"10-4, thanks for the heads-up."
My response drew another voice.
[Jake, that you? Big Tom here!]
"Whoa, Tom? Long time. Where you headed?"
[Denver. You?]
"Salt Lake City."
[Nice, same direction. Coffee at the 287 rest area?]
"You're on."
Two hours later, I pulled into the Wichita Falls stop.
Big Tom's chrome-shiny Kenworth W900 was parked next to me. His rig always turned heads.
"Jake! How've you been?"
Tom offered a meaty handshake.
"Hanging in. You?"
"Same old. Fuel prices up, freight rates down."
We grabbed vending machine coffee and caught up.
"Still hauling that old Freightliner?"
"Sentimental value. Sam passed it down."
"Sam doing alright?"
"Yeah. Surgery went smooth."
Tom checked his watch.
"Gotta roll. Need to hit Colorado Springs tonight."
"Safe travels. Catch you next time."
Back on the road.
Northern Texas stretched into endless plains. Cotton and corn fields to the horizon. Oil pumps nodding occasionally, pumping crude.
[Welcome to New Mexico - Land of Enchantment]
1:00 p.m., crossing the Texas line at last. The sign greeted me first.
The landscape shifted dramatically. Green plains gave way to red desert. Mesas and buttes rose like massive castles.
Sagebrush and cacti dotted the roadside. Tumbleweeds rolled across the highway like in the movies.
"...Beautiful."
Lunch in Amarillo. Passed the famous Big Texan Steak Ranch—free 72-oz steak if you finish in an hour. Tried it years back; barely made half.
Settled for a small Mexican joint instead.
"One beef burrito."
"Drink?"
"Large Coke."
Ate while watching the trucks outside. Shiny new rigs to beaters like mine—all crossing America with their stories.
Back on I-40 west after eating.
This road traced the old Route 66. American history in asphalt: Dust Bowl migrants to California, post-WWII vets heading west...
Sunset hit near Tucumcari. Orange, pink, purple skies over the wide desert—a spectacle every time.
Albuquerque at 7:00 p.m. Fueled up first at the truck stop. $4.89 a gallon. Rising prices stung.
"200 gallons."
"$978."
Nearly a grand in diesel. A month's groceries for regular folks.
Switched to I-25 north out of Albuquerque.
Night deepened; temps plunged. Desert nights flipped the script on the day.
Hit the heater, sipped thermos coffee—cold but it fought the drowsiness.
"Whew... chilly."
Altitude climbed past Santa Fe. 7,000 feet; ears popped. The old engine strained up the grades, breathing hard.
'Hang in there a bit longer.'
Gauges showed rising engine temp. Next stop for cooldown, probably.
[Colorful Colorado]
Colorado border at 11:00 p.m. True to the motto, landscapes galore: desert, plains, mountains, canyons.
Pulled into the Trinidad rest area. Stepped out to cool the engine and gazed at the stars. High elevation made them feel close enough to touch. Big Dipper shone clear.
'Someone said follow the Big Dipper home.'
Fifteen minutes stargazing, then back aboard. Time to move.
2:00 a.m., past Colorado Springs. Pikes Peak loomed faintly in moonlight—over 14,000 feet.
Bypassed Denver onto I-70. Rocky Mountains ahead, one of America's toughest hauls.
Slowed for Eisenhower Tunnel: 11,000 feet, highest vehicle tunnel in North America. Ears went dead for the two-mile stretch.
Vail ski resort lights twinkled on exit. Playground for the rich—worlds away from truckers like me.
"Stars in their own right, I guess."
Quick break in Glenwood Springs. Famous for hot springs, but 4:00 a.m. everything slept.
Vended a Red Bull. "Gives you wings," the ads said. I needed sleep more.
"Alright, let's roll."
More endless driving. Western Colorado's red rock formations glowed like fire in dawn light.
Utah border at 7:00 a.m.
[Welcome to Utah - Life Elevated]
Destination state at last. Soon, the Great Salt Lake shimmered into view.