Chapter 3

The nature of our relationship stayed pretty much the same for some months. Yasmin was a little scared of taking things too fast. Which was not half as scared as I was of taking things too fast. I was terrified that I would get her involved in things she was not ready to be involved in.

The spring and early summer turned out to be exceptional for us. Yaz was a natural saleswoman, and she managed to really work on building the business to the point where this years sales were beginning to look like they might, just might, cross that all-important seven-figure mark.

With the greatly improved efficiency of operation that came with my weathering some bad years, that meant that his year would probably prove immensely profitable. Things were going great, and my love for her was growing every day in every way imaginable.

I wasn't star-struck with love. But I was happy, content, and comfortable. Lonliness is something you really notice in its absence, and I had been terribly lonely. Now I was together, with a lovely intelligent girl who loved me.

Still, life never glides on without any bumps, and one supremely hot day in early August we had one.

I woke up to a kiss. Not like the one that changed everything. It wasn't an invitation to physical intimacy, so much as a loving kiss good morning. I was still mostly asleep. I heard a voice mumbling something about wake up, and slept in. After a few more minutes of semi conscious sleep, I was awake suddenly.

And wet. I sat bolt upright fast, a feeling of anger inside me. My eyes open, and there sat Yaz, smiling her usual sarcastic smile. Evidence of her crime was in her hand, a bottle of water with a squirty top that she had just blasted me with.

"What the hell?" I complained.

"Look at your watch," she instructed.

I looked at my wrist watch, a blue faced MOD Vostok Amphibia an old Russian vendor friend had given me. It was 8AM. Holy shit, it was 8AM.

"What the fuck?" I exclaimed.

"What the hell? What the fuck? You want to sell? Drive the truck!" Her smile was a teeth bearing grin of immense proportions.

I got out of bed and quickly dressed. We went into the cab, and I floored the truck out of there. As fast as a big truck can be floored, anyway.

I had never overslept in my life. I had heard that mind-blowing sex can leave you feeling this spent the morning after. But we hadn't had sex, mind blowing or otherwise. I concede I had put a lot of energy into proving to her that I loved her, but I didn't think showing how much you cared could expend quite this much energy.

I was driving faster than I normally do. Perhaps that was the cause. Also, I was lost in thought, that probably had something to do with it.

I started seeing heat waves coming off the engine cover, and looked at the gauge. It was way the hell up in the red, and I pulled the truck over and shut it off.

Unlatching the hood, it became apparent that it had been hot for quite a while. Steam was coming from everywhere, and some plastic pieces had melted. I was glad I had shut it off when I had. The truck probably couldn't have lasted all that much longer.

We called a tow-truck and had it towed to a truck repair place who looked at the engine. After taking off some pieces, they told me what had happened. First of all, a coolant hose had worked loose dumping all the coolant from the engine. Since early DT466Es did not have self protection capability, the engine never shut off until I noticed the heat.

By the time I had noticed it, the damage was done. The cylinder liners were all warped out of true, the head had warped, the head gasket had blown, and so forth. Essentially, I had a 1560lb lump under my hood best suited for maritime applications. Such as a boat anchor.

The engine would cost me $20k to replace. The truck was already showing wear in other places. It was, perhaps, time to buy another truck. I called in and told the rest of the markets that week that my truck had broken down, and I would be in once I had found a replacement.

Yaz and I took a cab to a nearby diner, a fear in my stomach.

"How am I going to find a truck like the one I had?" I asked her.

"Why do you want a truck like the one you had?" she replied.

"Well, I don't want to spend money on hotel rooms every night," I pointed out to her.

"Of course not," she conceded, "But I've seen a few trucks around the markets or roads or something. They look like they are motor homes, except the tow trailers."

"But that would be expensive," I argued.

She looked at me witheringly. She pointed out to me that I had the money to live in a degree of comfort somewhere above squalor. And besides, I had not actually investigated the costs of doing this.

After lunch I went into a public library and started doing some research. I had spent $65k on my last truck, plus about $6k on turning it into a home. With $71k as the base line I started looking around. I found out some things. First of all, these types of vehicles are called "toterhomes". And when they are new they cost a fortune. Like half a million bucks fortune.

But I also found something called a "Toterhome Conversion" which was when somebody took a slightly used long-haul truck and converted it into a toterhome by lengthening the chassis and adding more living space behind the sleeper.

I also found out that very few people use these things for heavy duty hauling. Most of them were owned by racing teams. They bought them to allow the team to sleep near the race track and also carry their equipment.

I found one, about 200 miles away. It was a toterhome conversion based on a 2004 Kenworth W900L. It had been ran for six months by a trucker who was under the serious misconception that he could afford a KW W900, perhaps the most expensive truck on the road. It had been repossessed, and then auctioned off.

The buyer was a racing team who installed a camper body behind the trucks already large 86" Aerocab sleeper. And unlike some, this one didn't have a rear door, allowing for the installation of a king bed in the back. The truck offered a sitting area where the sleeper used to be, a small kitchen (although better than the old one), a bathroom complete with shower, and a large bedroom with a king bed. In otherwords, a tiny luxury condominium on wheels.

The previous owners hadn't used it very much, partially because they were not a particularly successful racing team- just an apparently over financed one. With just 76k mostly low-stress miles on it, the truck was close to new.

The thing was powered by a Caterpillar C15, with 475 bhp. Mated to a Allison 10-speed automatic, the thing was built to haul very heavy loads. Meaning it could comfortably handle a 30' trailer for me. Priced at an insanely low $92k with said 30' trailer, I bought it. We picked it up, as it wasn't very far away. It even had a liftgate.

After we had been missing for two days, her dad called us. Why I forgot to call him, I don't know. We told him we'd be back at the market tomorrow.

When I pulled into the market in this leviathan, I thought all the vendors were from mars. That was how green they turned when they saw my new truck. Ostentatious? Definitely. But Yaz had been right. I worked hard and I deserved to live in a degree of comfort.

I learned how fun it was to back up in a confined space using a huge camper as a tractor. But I did it ok. Before I got out of the truck, Yaz rested her hand on my shoulder. I turned to face her.

"Josh," that's my name, by the way, "I love you. I want to spend my whole life together with you. Do you understand that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked.

"I..." and then she jumped, throwing her arms around me and giving me a kiss.

"What if your father sees?" I asked.

"Scrooom," she mumbled, her mouth buried in my neck, "Scroomall."

"Oui, oui, mon cheri!"

She had stumbled on the flea market mantra, I guess. Scroomall indeed.

This day turned out weak, with me not even covering my costs in revenue. I picked up some meat and produce from the market, and sent her inside as I finished packing to make dinner.

Yasmin had never really learned how to cook working with her parents, with the crazy insanity that she had grown up with. But that's ok. I had never really learned how to eat, either. We had hamburgers. Plain and simple. Fried on the stove.