Read The Journey Back for Free Online

and dropped my jaw as in,
do you believe this?
But I stayed quiet until the trucker climbed down out of the cab. Hiking up his jeans and putting a cell phone to his ear, he started walking toward the restaurant. He limped on one leg, and over the crunch of gravel I heard him say, “I’m stoppin’ to get somethin’ to eat. This little place here off sixty-eight, they make great biscuits and sausage gravy . . .”
    So he wasn’t going in just to use the restroom or get a cup of coffee. He was going to sit down and eat great biscuits and gravy. Man, I would’ve liked to put away some of that breakfast, too. Just thinking about it made me drool, but this was my big chance and I didn’t have a lot of time to waste.
    As soon as that guy disappeared into the building, I walked up to his truck and looked it over. Of course no trucker would leave his keys in the ignition. But starting the truck wasn’t the problem. So long as the truck was a diesel built before 1992—and it looked like it was—I knew I could hot-wire the thing from underneath. See, the old diesels were combustion engines, not electric like the new ones. You couldn’t hot-wire a new truck like you could this one. Getting inside the truck was the challenge for me.
    Okay. I saw right away that just behind the driver’s door was the outside entrance to his sleeping compartment, and that underneath was a smaller door, which was his toolbox. (My dad used to stash a bottle of vodka in his toolbox.) I took a look around but didn’t see a soul, so I opened the toolbox door and reached my arm way up inside and felt around. Sure enough, there was a lever that popped open the door above to the cab’s sleeper. Only reason I knew about that lever was ’cause my dad was always losing his keys or leaving them inside the cab and this was how he broke into his own truck. For a second, I sort of spun halfway around and smiled. I couldn’t believe how easy that was.
    When the door popped open, I moved quickly, stepping up and throwing myself inside, right on the guy’s bed. It was real comfy and had a soft brown blanket and a couple pillows. I was thinking I’d take that blanket with me when I left. Between the sleeper and the cab there was a little closet and I could see the trucker had two shirts hanging in there, along with a thick gray jacket. I’d take some of them clothes, too, I thought. Maybe, if I had time to rummage around, I’d find some dry socks.
    No time to lose though.
    I crawled through the sleeper into the cab and lowered myself down in the driver’s seat. So far, so good, I thought, as I started throwing things around, trying to find the right tool to start the truck. On the console between the two front seats I found a jackknife and pushed that in my pocket. Found a Snickers bar, too—my favorite!—and tore into it right away, taking a huge bite. Next, I came across three folded dollars and change and stuffed that in my other pocket. All at once, I remembered the toolbox. I’d check that for what I needed, I thought, but suddenly what I needed was right smack in front of me on the console: a screwdriver.
    After grabbing that screwdriver, I reached down to the left of the steering wheel, to pull a T-handle into the override position, which basically opened the fuel valve under the truck. And one more thing: I unlocked the driver’s-side door.
    Screwdriver in one hand, I shoved the rest of that candy bar into my mouth and slid out, partially closing the door so I could get back in fast. I cast another glance around, to be sure no one was watching me, then I bent over and crawled behind the huge front tires, beneath the truck.
    I had barely enough light to see under there, but I knew what I was doing. I went directly to the starter location, just under the cab, and found the two wires I needed: the large positive cable that runs to the truck battery, and the