the stains, his new uniform already looked broken in.
“How was the first day?” John asked.
“Harder than I expected,” Mike admitted as he stared blankly ahead, exhausted.
John chuckled.
“Why do you think we’re getting paid so much?” John asked.
The group started to break apart as they each made their way to their respective vans.
Mike sighed and shook his head.
“I knew it’d be hard… I just didn’t have any idea I’d be doing so much,” Mike said. “Honestly, I thought that I’d just be driving a forklift.”
John laughed again.
“Yeah… You’ll learn pretty fast that everyone gets their hands dirty around here,” John said. “If the job was easy then everybody would be working down here, you know?”
Mike reached up and massaged his aching left shoulder, groaning.
“I sure found that out today,” Mike muttered as he climbed into the van.
John crawled into the van and sat next to him, cracking his neck. He tossed his hardhat by his feet, closed his eyes, and leaned the stiff seat back as far as it would go.
The others entered the van and in a few moments they were on their way back towards the highway.
Tejano music started coming through the radio as the signal picked up.
The others in the van started chattering amongst themselves.
John didn’t even care about the music selection since the air conditioning felt so exquisite on his face. He took his unlit cigarette and finally lit it. He took a deep, long drag. He cracked his window and blew the smoke out with a deep sigh.
After a few minutes his cigarette was gone and the ashes were all over his chest.
John brushed the ashes off and flicked the cigarette butt out of the window. He looked over at Mike, half-asleep.
“So… are you coming in tomorrow or is this goodbye?” John casually asked as he rolled up the window.
Mike was leaning back in his seat with his hardhat still on, eyes closed.
“Hell yeah man,” Mike muttered. He opened his eyes and glanced at John with a grin. “It’s going to take more than a sore back and a little sunburn to take me out of commission.”
Mike closed his eyes again and pulled the hardhat down over his face, relaxing into the seat.
John studied the kid and nodded, impressed.
“Maybe you do have what it takes,” John said as he closed his eyes and chuckled to himself. He leaned back in his seat and tried to enjoy the bumpy ride, ignoring his aching body.
After thirty minutes of stop-and-go traffic along Tres Rios’ main street, the van finally arrived at the Love’s Travel Center. It was located just off of the only exit from I-37 that led into town. Tres Rios was a mere eight miles away from the travel center and that made it an ideal location for the vanpool to meet.
Since it was two hours to San Antonio, forty-five minutes to Beeville, and an hour to Corpus, the stop was convenient for everyone.
Personally John hated the vanpool, but he didn’t have a choice since the jobsite didn’t allow personal vehicles to park on the premises– unless of course you were somebody important.
The Love’s Travel Center was a massive truck stop that was open 24/7 and served as a central hub for hungry tourists headed towards the beach. It also served as a convenient stop for truckers who were headed to and from the drill sites. The gargantuan building sold everyday convenience store items like fountain drinks, lottery tickets, and basic groceries in the front of the store. The back side of the store sold last-minute gifts, DVDs, odd trinkets, and specialty items catered towards professional truckers. The travel center also featured a Subway restaurant and a McDonald’s inside and neither restaurant was ever empty.
Gasoline pumps were situated along the front of the building, while the diesel pumps and semi-truck parking areas were located in the back.
The van pulled to the dirt parking lot next to the travel center, the area designated for Triburton’s vanpools, and parked in a row of
“How was the first day?” John asked.
“Harder than I expected,” Mike admitted as he stared blankly ahead, exhausted.
John chuckled.
“Why do you think we’re getting paid so much?” John asked.
The group started to break apart as they each made their way to their respective vans.
Mike sighed and shook his head.
“I knew it’d be hard… I just didn’t have any idea I’d be doing so much,” Mike said. “Honestly, I thought that I’d just be driving a forklift.”
John laughed again.
“Yeah… You’ll learn pretty fast that everyone gets their hands dirty around here,” John said. “If the job was easy then everybody would be working down here, you know?”
Mike reached up and massaged his aching left shoulder, groaning.
“I sure found that out today,” Mike muttered as he climbed into the van.
John crawled into the van and sat next to him, cracking his neck. He tossed his hardhat by his feet, closed his eyes, and leaned the stiff seat back as far as it would go.
The others entered the van and in a few moments they were on their way back towards the highway.
Tejano music started coming through the radio as the signal picked up.
The others in the van started chattering amongst themselves.
John didn’t even care about the music selection since the air conditioning felt so exquisite on his face. He took his unlit cigarette and finally lit it. He took a deep, long drag. He cracked his window and blew the smoke out with a deep sigh.
After a few minutes his cigarette was gone and the ashes were all over his chest.
John brushed the ashes off and flicked the cigarette butt out of the window. He looked over at Mike, half-asleep.
“So… are you coming in tomorrow or is this goodbye?” John casually asked as he rolled up the window.
Mike was leaning back in his seat with his hardhat still on, eyes closed.
“Hell yeah man,” Mike muttered. He opened his eyes and glanced at John with a grin. “It’s going to take more than a sore back and a little sunburn to take me out of commission.”
Mike closed his eyes again and pulled the hardhat down over his face, relaxing into the seat.
John studied the kid and nodded, impressed.
“Maybe you do have what it takes,” John said as he closed his eyes and chuckled to himself. He leaned back in his seat and tried to enjoy the bumpy ride, ignoring his aching body.
After thirty minutes of stop-and-go traffic along Tres Rios’ main street, the van finally arrived at the Love’s Travel Center. It was located just off of the only exit from I-37 that led into town. Tres Rios was a mere eight miles away from the travel center and that made it an ideal location for the vanpool to meet.
Since it was two hours to San Antonio, forty-five minutes to Beeville, and an hour to Corpus, the stop was convenient for everyone.
Personally John hated the vanpool, but he didn’t have a choice since the jobsite didn’t allow personal vehicles to park on the premises– unless of course you were somebody important.
The Love’s Travel Center was a massive truck stop that was open 24/7 and served as a central hub for hungry tourists headed towards the beach. It also served as a convenient stop for truckers who were headed to and from the drill sites. The gargantuan building sold everyday convenience store items like fountain drinks, lottery tickets, and basic groceries in the front of the store. The back side of the store sold last-minute gifts, DVDs, odd trinkets, and specialty items catered towards professional truckers. The travel center also featured a Subway restaurant and a McDonald’s inside and neither restaurant was ever empty.
Gasoline pumps were situated along the front of the building, while the diesel pumps and semi-truck parking areas were located in the back.
The van pulled to the dirt parking lot next to the travel center, the area designated for Triburton’s vanpools, and parked in a row of
Similar Books
Playing with Fire
Peter Robinson
The Glorious Becoming
Lee Stephen
The Reich Device
Richard D. Handy
The Hive
Gill Hornby
Bearing Secrets
Marissa Dobson
The Bringer of Light
Pat Black
A Test of Faith
Karen Ball
Among Monsters: A Red Hill Novella
Jamie McGuire
Leon and the Spitting Image
Allen Kurzweil