“What did you guys talk about? It seemed like you’d been having a pretty heavy conversation when we got back.”
“Yeah, we did.”
“About that Soldier of Fortune Magazine?”
“Yeah but not really about the magazine.”
“What then?”
“I probably shouldn’t talk about it.”
“Oh, he’s looking for mercenaries. I can read the cover of the magazine. Is it Angola?”
“Yeah.”
“You wouldn’t do that would you? I mean go to Angola as a mercenary.”
“No, Ive had enough war. But on the other hand I’m real tired of being poor. It’s not hip; it’s just poor. Everybody out here is just getting older and poorer. And if you’re not an artist or a musician there’ not a lot happening. You can’t really be part of the scene, you’re just on the outside looking in. If I had some money it would help.
“You’re not poor; just broke. There’s a difference.”
“If there’s a difference, I don’t see it. It amounts to the same thing. Like having to figure work-arounds because you can’t afford to fix stuff. Or like burning cheap lamp oil. Since I got out of the army I haven’t made enough money in one year to have to file a tax return.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t grow up poor and you’re well educated, as far as you’ve chosen to pursue it. That’s not poor. That gives you a path of recovery.”
“Pursue it? That wasn’t a choice. I ran out of money and we’re in the middle of a bad recession in case you hadn’t noticed so there aren’t a lot of jobs. I take what I can get, which at the moment isn’t much.”
“The worm will turn. You’ll see.”
“What? like long-haul trucking splitting 11 cents a mile between two drivers? That’s what makes Halftrack’s offer seem reasonable.
“Oh by the way I got that job hauling fruit.”
“Does that mean you’ve turned Halftrack down?”
“I’ll have to turn somebody down. I suppose I can let Halftrack ride for a while. He didn’t talk about a deadline.”
“So when do you leave?”
“Trucking? Thursday. I’ve go to be in Yakima at 7AM to load. That means I have to leave town by 4. Could I park the tractor at your house Wednesday night? We could spend the night together.
“Sure. That would be nice. Just park it around the block on 12th. Where will you leave the trailer?”
“At the truck scales down on Northlake.”
“When will you be back?”
“A week. I just have to go to Wisconsin not coat to coast. Are you going to get that job with Crowley Maritime?”
“Not till September. Then I’ll be on the Anchorage run.”
“That doesn’t sound any better than Red Stack. How long does it take?”
“About ten days. Pays better.”
“Ummm. This run pays $350 a week but out of that I have to pay living expenses and eating on the road ain’t cheap. So I only clear about 200 bucks a week.”
“You shoulda gone to Alaska with the gold dredge.”
“That’s what I’m beginning to think. Can I get a ride?” I asked grinning.
In The Belly Of the Beast 