Chapter 3

Once at the “Wayfarer’s” Corrie was worried about the surgery. But when she met with Lambert Keen, he told both her and Chet that she had the perfect face for him to work with. Having already met Freddie she thought she was an attractive woman. Keen said that Freddie’s face was a difficult task that required reshaping her facial structure. He showed Corrie Freddie’s “before” picture. She was a nice-looking woman before, but the result made her prettier. With a folder of pictures in front of him he said, “Compared with Freddie’s unworked face, yours is a piece of cake. First, you have large ears for your face, so they can be trimmed down.”

Chet remembered her long hair and how it covered her ears. He did notice how much larger they appeared after they left Supercuts.

Keen showed Corrie a picture of the more proportional, smaller ears. “This is just surface work and minimal surgery that won’t cause you much discomfort—a couple of days with Percodan is all.”

Then showing a picture of a woman with a button nose he said, “You have a larger Roman nose, Corrie, we can give you a nose bob and it will look like this.”

She laughed at how cute she thought it looked.

“And we can give your eyelids a slant.” He showed her a picture of a Eurasian girl. The slant looked exotic, which she was not sure she liked but she had to go along with what the Warriors wanted.

All in all, it was the sacrifice she did not mind making.

“And finally,” he showed her a picture of a sexy woman with full lips, hers were thin. “We can inject your lips with collagen and give you this look. Combined Corrie, with no invasive surgery, we can change your looks completely. Within a month you will be completely healed, and we can get you’ll be able to get back on the road.”

She was pleasantly surprised at how kind and considerate Freddie was.

“I went through what you’re going through kiddo. Mine was difficult and painful. From what I can see of yours it will be a piece of cake.” Freddie smiled. “You’ll have a problem at first getting used to your new look, but I can tell you this, men are gonna go wild at the improvement. I am not saying you are not an attractive girl Hun; you are. But when the doc here is finished, you’re gonna be STUNNING.”

Corrie found it interesting. Her mother had always been distant while she was growing up. But being one of four wives herself Corrie was beginning to understand. The children in that family and most FLDS families acted more like daycare centers than families in the usual sense.

She was immediately taken by Freddie’s warm concern for her. “I’ve been through it, and I will be with you all the way,” she said. “I wish I would have had a woman that cared about me when I did it. And the girls (speaking of the prostitutes at Wayfarer’s), do not get them wrong. They may be hookers but each one of them is probably more caring than any woman you have probably grown up with. You’re going to love being with them.”

The next day was difficult for Corrie ... and for Chet as well. Freddie could tell that there was a deeper bond with this girl than she had ever seen with any of his other women. She knew he would put it behind him, and he would be happy with his “road whores,” who he always treated like princesses.

Freddie thought that Chester McClean was like Gus McCray in “Lonesome Dove.” She hoped Corrie could deal with it as well. She noticed that when Chet hugged Corrie and said goodbye, she was stoic, there were no tears. But Freddie had a lump in her throat. She was in love with Chet too. Everybody was. The Warriors were all good men. There were none that any romantic woman would not love to be involved with. She thought about how she had been saved by these men and thought it would be interesting to see how this one turns out...

It only took Dr. Lambert Keen a couple of hours on Monday to complete the work on Corrie’s ears, reducing their size and pulling them more tightly to her head. The slant of her eyes was almost an afterthought—just taking a tuck on the outside corners of her lids. Though the eyelids were minor he reasoned that he might as well do them with the ears. It would take the best part of the week ‘til the soreness would be barely recognizable. But within the week he would do the nose. A couple of days with Percodan would take care of her pain for that. It would take a few days to take care of the process for her name change, just registering the forms and pictures. So, within three weeks she would be ready to get back on the road again.

Calley Metcalf had not heard from Chet McClean in three months. She had been friends of Chet and his wife since the beginning of their marriage. Chet and MaryAnne’s daughter was her Goddaughter. She knew that the McClean’s marriage was in trouble even before Chrissie was born. Being a trucker’s wife, she knew that MaryAnne didn’t have what it took to be happy as a long-distance trucker’s wife. That kind of commitment takes a special kind of woman: fiercely independent, extremely open-minded, and free in her attitudes about sex. A long-distance trucker’s wife knows that her man is a sexual being who, most likely is not going to save it for a month at a time. She knows that she needs to do the lion’s share of kid-raising. Quite often, just like her husband, her attitude on sex is that she won’t suffer without it either.

MaryAnne toughed it out for 15 years and was finally swept away by the minister of her church, having carried on with him for three years. When Chrissie was killed in an auto accident the marriage dissolved. When they divorced MaryAnne wed the minister.

Chet met Chuck Metcalf the first year he was on the road. They became friends when they were hauling for Consolidated Mattress out of Utica, New York, which was Chuck’s home. They made several convoys together all the way to California but mostly they went in different directions. Chet was picking up loads at Consolidated about every two weeks. Once, while they were on the road, he and Chuck had dinner together at a Pilot Flying J Travel Center restaurant—this is before they had the sleepers in the cabs. He had met Chuck’s wife Calley once when he and Chuck were picking up at Consolidated. When they both stopped at Pilot on the way back to Utica Chuck that night Chuck invited him to dinner and asked him to stay the night. When he left the next morning both Chuck and Calley told him that he could stay anytime that he was picking up in Utica. It was the kind of invitation Chet had heard about before from other truckers. It was obvious that Chuck was trying to level the playing field for Calley, to have someone who Chuck felt good about spending some worthwhile sexual time with his wife while he was gone.

Chuck was on a run with a load of mattresses to California when he lost his brakes just as he passed the truck escape ramp going down the long grade in the Cajon Pass. He was going over a hundred miles an hour when he reached the turn onto Rte. 138 toward Wrightwood and slammed into the berm abutment there. It happened on one of those convoys the two drivers often made. Chet was right behind him, knowing that Chuck was headed for disaster. After he dropped his load in L.A. Chet deadheaded back to Utica to be with Calley. It was tragic for her; she had lived with such a threat for such a long time. For Chet it was bittersweet. He lost his best friend, but he was there to comfort his wife on the return trip.

Though a situation like this might seem strange to the reader Chet was no stranger in Calley’s bed. They had comforted and thrilled each other numerous times over the years when he had stayed when Chuck was gone. During this time Chet’s body being close was comforting for her. His penis inside her body was like an extension of Chuck’s. The other sexual things he was doing with her helped to heal her grief in this strange mode of relationship.

When Chet called on his most recent trip Calley was thrilled. But she could tell in his voice on the phone that he was more troubled than he had been since Chrissie’s death, and hen Chuck’s. While he was there, he had not breathed a word to her about Corrie Jeffords. But she sensed that whatever was bothering him had to do with a woman. She thought it might have something to do with Freddie Krause. Calley was the only person outside of the Wheelin Warriors who knew about Billie-Jo Hadley becoming Freddie. At the time, when it was Chet’s turn to be toting Freddie during her odyssey, he and Freddie stayed with her for two days when Freddie came down with the flu. Before they left, when Freddie was on the mend, Calley enjoyed a threesome with Chet and Freddie.

This time, when Chet got to her house before picking up his load at Consolidated, they had dinner before going to bed. It troubled her that he was not the man she knew. In bed that night, where he was usually a most active and attentive lover, he brought her to three orgasms and fucked her but could not come himself. That had never happened before.

“Okay baby,” she said as she sat up and made him snuggle in her arms, “We’re both too important to each other for this to go on without you telling me what’s on your mind.” When he just clammed up tighter, she said, “God damn it, Chet, I’m the woman you fucked for two weeks after my husband died. Cut the BULLSHIT.”

It was the wedge she needed to open him up. Surprised and relieved that it wasn’t trouble with Freddie she became enrapt by the story of what had gone on with the Mormon girl Corrie Jeffords. “Sounds like a woman with an awful lot of courage and resolve,” she said. “And you say she’s 15?”

When she found out that Chet was in love with her, she wanted to beat the shit out of him for being a horny trophy hunter. She would have beaten him up verbally but knew him well enough that this cultish stranger was serving as a surrogate for his deceased daughter.

“Jesus.” she said, “You Warriors sure seem to be able to get yourself into some strange situations. I thought Freddie was a dilly but this one even tops that. She was so well-versed in the affairs of the Wheeling Warriors because her late husband was an honorary member. The rule was that a trucker could only be a Warrior if he were not married. But Chuck, who was in on everything from the beginning was the only honorary Warrior. As far as Calley went she was sleeping with Chet even before his divorce. Since her husband had been killed, she had served as an unofficial way station for the Wheelin Warriors, fucking half of them.

“Well,” she said to Chet, “This girl’s only fifteen and you’re gonna come to the realization that you are in your fifties. I know you, Chester McNeal; you’ve got ladies all over the country. That’s not going to fly with this young chickee; you’ll get over her before you know it, You dumb cluck.”

With Calley’s arms wrapped around him and his head resting between her ample breasts, he felt like he’d been counseled by his mother. “You’re probably right Calley but it’s the strangest feeling. And you are right, Chrissie’s memory is involved. But this girl makes me feel like I am with Tinkerbell. And it feels like she has me by the nuts.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” Calley laughed, “Tinkerbell. “You Warriors are such a strange fucking lot. I love every one of you.” Sandwiching his face between her hands she slapped it gently. “And speaking of nuts I think it’s time for me to empty yours, they feel like they’re chocked too full of sperm. I’ll not have my men walking around like a kid with blue balls.” Since the time he had been nestling in her breasts, she had been gently stroking him to a substantial erection. “Lay back and let Mama relieve the pressure.”

She went down on him, sucking him to a stiff rod then straddling him and taking his substantial meat into her wet pussy. Once it was fully inside, she tightened the muscles of her well-used pocket and furiously jockeyed him until he filled her with gushers from his distended balls. Exhausted, she fell on his body.