 - Last login: 6 days agoJunebugn
- Becca is a 55 year old married woman from Huntsville, Alabama, USA.
- Likes 144 pages, 8 videos, 27 photos • 12 fans • Received 4 reviews
- Member since May 18, 2007
My husband and I drive our own semi all over the country. As such, we are part of one of the largest groups of free-thinkers, individualists, and just down right stubborn people in America. We have two sons, 29 and 20, and a grandson just turned 20 months. I'm writing a preteen novel and a series of poems for my grandson. Parts of these are posted here. I welcome all criticisms!
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Here's the novel so far. Tentative title is Our Lady of the Airbrakes. I am having way too much fun writing it...
Chapter One
The airbrake whooshed and Fluffernut stepped on my head in her usual rush to be the first dog to the door. She was followed closely by Gracie, who used my stomach as her launching pad.
I sighed. As nice as it was to have the two of them cuddled up next to me on the bunk, there were some major disadvantages. For one thing, everything we owned was lightly dusted with dog fur, which drifted in the sunlight in the small space of the truck cab. For another, well, dog paws in your back in the middle of the night are sharp. Then there was the constant leashing and walking, and trying not to step on them and - well, you see what I mean.
"Rise and shine, sweetie!" Mom's cheerful voice from the driver's seat sent me burrowing under the covers again, though I knew it wouldn't work. "Pit stop!"
I had to get up if I wanted to pee. The truck had no toilet. We had a lot of other stuff -bed, fridge, microwave, even computer and printer - but no toilet. How dumb is that? Male truck drivers have such an advantage.
I climbed out of the bunk, over the dogs, and down the steps out of the truck. Mom locked it and we went inside the truck stop. The shelves full of junk food and the usual "tourist grabbers" were very colorful reminders that I was not at home. And where did they put the rest room in this place?
"Make it quick, sugar, we've gotta get down the road," Mom said.
As I washed my hands I couldn't help looking in the mirror. My brown hair was smooshed to one side where I'd slept on it, and my eyes looked a paler blue than usual. I tried to smooth out the hair, gave up and hurried to catch up with Mom.
What was a thirteen year old girl doing in a truck stop, you ask? It's not even a long story. I'm stuck out here riding with my Mom, that's all. Trapped in a rolling box for miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles.
Chapter Two
Stuck in a truck. Stuck in a truck. Stuck in a truck. The words matched the rhythm of the road. I slumped in the jump seat - slump in the jump, slump in the jump - and stared out the window.
Once I had lived in a normal subdivision, with houses that did not move. I had a room of my own, a bathroom I could find even in the dark, and a bike I could ride all over. And school - what was I going to do about school this fall? I'm supposed to be in eighth grade. What if Grandma doesn't get well?
See, it was pretty normal til the factory closed where Mom worked. True, we weren't a "typical" family. Mom said it was "just us girls". That meant dear old Dad skipped out quite a while back. I was just a baby, and my sister Brit was ten. I don't remember him, but Brit does, and she says I'm not missing anything.
Anyway, the factory shut down in our tiny Alabama town and all the workers had to find something to do. A lot of them left. Some got jobs at the fast food places. Mom, who couldn't stand to leave the town she grew up in and leave Grandma as well, heard there was free training in truck driving, and that trucking companies were always hiring. Grandma about had a fit - she said truck driving was for men, and what was Mom going to do with me while she was gallivanting cross country? Mom just looked at her til it dawned on Grandma who was going to take care of me.
Mom said, "Mother, it'll just be til I can get a local driving job. They say you have to go over the road for a while first."
Grandma grunted. "Over the road? Might as well be over the rainbow. You always were a daredevil - you really think you can drive one'a those big things?"
Mom said, " I got to try. There're no jobs here. I'm not fixing to make hamburgers and French fries all day."
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