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Waking up was always the worst part, wondering, not if it was cold but rather how cold it would be.

I could feel my nose, pinched and frozen and that was my reality. Another bitch of a day with sod all fun and even less hope. If I got out of bed the rest of me would be pinched and frozen, in addition to filthy and undernourished.

I had not been in a good state since Summer, she had captured my heart, lifted me up and cast me into the pit of despair. Leaving me with no job, no money and a bitter taste in my mouth.

Let’s take that trip down memory lane, to last August (its December now) and one of those warm summer days when time stands still, the heat makes the air yellow and heavy. Nobody complains.

I was 23, working at an auto shop and because of my junior status I got all the shitty jobs…well, the old guys thought they were shitty but I loved being on breakdown callout.

Actually having a job at that time and in that part of the country was a blessing indeed. Jobs were scarce and there was always someone trying to bid for yours.

Breakdowns meant variety and travel, ingenious roadside fixes and the occasional hot MILF in distress to leer at while I changed her tyre.

The old guys liked their routine; they could service the same model of car every day and revel in it. All it did for me was made me realise that Roger Daltry had a point when he sang “Hope I die before I get old”…

So, with all this perfect weather and impending boredom I was hoping for some breakdowns.

The call came mid-morning and I gladly handed over the service I was in the middle of to one of the old guys. I headed out to the coast.

My brief was that a hippy chick called Summer, who lived and travelled in a converted panel truck, had fried her transmission.  My Job was to evaluate, quote and repair.

The truck was parked at a place the locals called “Crusty Corner” because that is where the itinerant truck-dwellers, “Crusties” would park up when passing through our county.

It was rare for us to be called out as many of the Crusties where pretty handy with the spanners but for some reason there was only the one truck at Crusty Corner this week.

Bouncing down the dirt road in my tow-truck, I wondered what I would find. Some of the Crusty Trucks were ancient old Albions or Bedfords, which meant fixing them was old-school. Improvisation being the mother of invention in most cases.

I soon spotted the truck, marooned in an idyllic grassy clearing, with views out over the sand dunes to the sea. It was an old Bedford, hand painted dark blue with stars and moons arranged in constellations and galaxies all over the sides.

I walked round the back of the truck to the sunlit seaward side and stopped dead in my tracks. I nearly swallowed my tongue at the ethereal beauty before me.

Summer must have been about my age, she had Elfin features, like Liv Tyler but with bobbed blonde hair.

She had the kinda body that made women hate her and men fall instantly in lust.

Small firm breasts, a flat belly and strong legs, all wrapped in a cotton print dress that hugged her form as tight as any red-blooded male would do if he got the chance.

Summer smiled and my heart stopped beating for a while, I struggled to speak.

“Hi, I’m your breakdown dude.” the effort made me sweat.

“And does my breakdown dude have a name?” she smiled.

I tried not to faint or come in my pants.

“Tim.” I could feel my voice breaking with tension and so kept my sentences short.

“Tea?” Summer indicated a picnic table with a delicate, floral china tea set all ready for the occasion.

I nodded in the affirmative while swallowing hard, trying to unparalyse my larynx.

“Tea is the best way to start any transaction, it allows people to get to know each other and properly communicate before any work starts, don’t you agree?”

“Oh yes.” I replied, regaining the power of speech but as yet unable to take my eyes off her lithe body and the gentle ways in which her tight dress transformed whenever she moved.

“You don’t say much do you Breakdown Dude?” It wasn’t an accusation, more of an amused rhetorical question.

“Errr…sorry.” I shook my head to break my gaze from her strong legs that were suddenly revealed as she sat down on the green and white striped folding chair beside the picnic table.

“Yeah, um, I do talk but I’m not used to…hmmm, err, look, err, tea…I don’t usually get tea in nice cups.” I was gibbering like a fuckwit.

“Poor thing…cake?” Summer poured the tea and produced a carrot cake from under the redundant tea-cosy, which looked like it had once spent time on the late, great Bob Marley’s head.

“Yes please.” I was regaining some semblance of composure now and was able to take the offered cup and saucer without spilling it.

This gave me the confidence to converse.

“Have you lived in a truck for very long?” I bet she got asked that a lot but I couldn’t think of anything else to say except for “I love you, have my babies” and didn’t think the latter to be appropriate under the circumstances.

“Four years, I bought it after my parents died and have lived on the road ever since…I feel adrift in the world since they passed, being on the move keeps me busy and stops me thinking about it.”

I felt myself welling up. Her story made me want to take her in my arms and protect her from all the ills of the world.

“Truck been reliable?” I was on safer ground now.

“Never misses a beat but recently it’s been jumping out of gear and now the gear lever won’t move.” She gave a little girly pout that had me reaching for a handkerchief and a bucket of sympathy.

We chatted about life on the road, trucks and freedom, hippy fairs and the continued threat to our existence from the New World Order (whatever that is).

Tea and cake consumed, I crawled under the truck with my flashlight and spanners to make my diagnosis.

It didn’t take me very long to realise the seriousness of the problem…

“Bad news I’m afraid, the selectors are buggered, IF you could get new ones they would be expensive and it’s a total strip down on this type of transmission to fit them.”

This made me realise how a Doctor must feel when giving a message of no hope to a patient.

“How much?” Her beautiful, full lips were starting to quiver.

“Couple of grand, give or take, plus a tow to the workshop…Take a good few days once the parts were in.”

This made her cry and I felt such a heel.

Summer sat down as if poleaxed and sobbed as her world came apart at the seams.

It was hard to watch and I sat in the shade of the Bedford wondering if there was any way in which I could help her.

Suddenly a revelation hit me; I rolled out from under the truck like my arse was on fire.

“I know! I know what we can do!” I was very excited because the solution meant I would have to spend some time in her company and right now, that was everything to me.

I explained to Summer that I could declare the truck beyond repair and get it off our books at work. Then I could take it apart at the weekend and quite possibly fix the selector mechanism with some judicious welding and grinding.

It would take weeks of off-duty work but it was a cheap solution and I never could resist a damsel in distress.

She went for it, declaring that she would plot up for the summer at Crusty Corner and continue her travels once the truck was fixed.

The three weeks that it took to fix the problem were the best of my life.

Sitting down by the sea working my magic on her ancient transmission, talking about life, the universe and our dreams, we bonded.

My dreams were filled with her, my waking hours were filled with her and every day, after work, I would drive down to Crusty Corner and work on the truck.

Finally it was all fixed and the transmission was ready to fit back in. The weather packed in big time that weekend but with visions of heroism in my head I stuck at it. Lying on my back in an ever deepening puddle as dark clouds dumped rain on the coast like Noah was still a ship-builder.

In the midst of this discomfort a flame was kept burning in my heart by the sight of Summer, bending down under the truck to hand me cups of tea and tofu salad sandwiches at regular intervals.

Finally, on the Saturday evening I emerged from my foxhole of filth, bedraggled, oily and exhausted.

I called up to Summer, who had been in the driver’s seat moving the gear lever to my instructions so I could set up the linkages.

“Start her up and try first and reverse.”

It worked!!! The thing was fixed!!!

Summer jumped down from the cab and hugged me. She kissed me full on the lips and squeaked with delight. When she let go I just slumped into a sodden picnic chair, spent and soaking.

I woke up some time later, warm, dry, and naked with a straining erection. I was in bed with Summer, lying on my back. What had woken me was her soft hands stroking my dick.

“Oh, you’re back with us then.” she gave me a wicked grin, lifted the duvet and licked her way down my belly to my man muscle.

I felt her tongue slide up the shaft.  I winced with pleasure, her full lips sucked the end of my cock into her mouth and she buried me in her throat.

Fuck it was good, I stole a glance under the covers as she deep-throated me.

Her right hand cupped my balls and she squeezed gently…that was enough, I shot my load down her throat and she swallowed greedily.

I fell asleep again.

Sunday morning, I woke up, alone in her bed. Summer was packing the truck as if to leave.

“Hey you!” it was a cheery welcome back to the world and I could have died from happiness.

“What are your plans?” she gave me a look as if there was a right answer I should give. The sun shone onto her face and she glowed like a cherub.

“Same old grind I suppose.” which was true, work beckoned.

“You have choices you know.” she looked down and smirked.

“How so?” I was never very quick on the uptake.

“You could travel…with me…in this truck.” again the look.

“Really?” I was fully awake now.

She just smiled and handed me a vegemite sandwich.

Lost in thought, I chewed on the sandwich.

“I’ll do it! I’ll pack in work, sell the car and do it.” That was the turning point, fuck security, this was love!

Summer smiled again and all the evil in the world vanished.

I went home and packed furiously; I withdrew all my money from the bank then went to see the boss.

Walking up the wooden stairs to his office, which overlooked the workshop, I took in the crumbling whitewashed walls, inhaled the smell of oil and tyres and thought “I’ll be glad to be away from all this.”

The boss asked if I was sure, he said he could replace me within the hour and that he thought I was making a mistake. He also said that I was young and he wouldn’t stand in the way of love and dreams, in fact, he wished he had the balls to do it.

“This is your last chance to change your mind Tim, no going back now.” His hand was on the phone.

“It’s fine, I’m doing this, I have to.”

As I turned and left his office I heard him speaking on the phone.

“Charlie? Yes, Brad here, still need a job?”

With a new sense of lightness and freedom I drove to Crusty Corner and loaded all my worldly possessions onto Summer’s truck. Money, tools, clothes, the lot!

“I’ll be back in the morning, John is buying my car and he gets paid as soon as he gets to work, I’ll cycle down.”

“Great!” Summer smiled and gave me a warm hug.

I kissed her and got back into the car.

“I love you Summer, I really, totally love you.” I called through the open car window as I drove off.

The next morning I was over at the supermarket where John worked by half past eight. I collected the money, jumped on my pushbike and rode off towards Crusty Corner and my new future as fast as I could go.

Breathless I crested the rise just before where the truck was parked and…there was no truck!!!

Summer was gone!

In disbelief I sat down on the damp grass and just stared at the spot where she had been parked for the majority of the summer. I was numb.

I must have sat there for two hours before I could think what to do. I looked about for her tyre tracks and saw that they lead back out the way I had come. The tracks were full of water from the rain that had fallen in the night.

“Bitch!” she had done a runner! Fucked off with all my money and possessions and left me looking a complete idiot.

I flew into a rage, kicking my bicycle into a buckled mess and walked slowly home…except I no longer had a home…


 


Comments

04/26/2013 6:26pm

Kudos, Tim. I really enjoyed this. Very well-written.

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