So once again Tristan had returned home from a failed driving job with his tail between his legs. He was so frustrated and angry. He was angry at the world, the economy, the entire trucking industry and God. “What am I supposed to be doing? … Where am I supposed to be at this point in my life? … God, just show me the way! … Show me what you want me to do and I’ll do it!” He pleaded silently to the air above. But his response was an ear shattering silence accompanied with a very bad feeling that nothing was going to improve any time soon. “I just don’t know what to do anymore… it used to be so easy to make good money in trucking…and that wasn’t all that long ago, either…now it seems as though the bottom has dropped out of the entire industry…what are we going to do? …God help me, I don’t know what to do!” Tears began to well up in his sorrowful blue eyes and his heart ached deep inside his chest. “I’ve always been able to figure out a way to survive and make a good living…to take care of my family…now it seems like everything I touch turns to dust.” He was sobbing now and begging his creator for help and guidance. As he sat at the desk in the office of their Victorian home he heard Maura enter the room from behind. He quickly wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt before she could see him crying. Although she had seen him wipe his eyes and knew, she didn’t say anything rather, she let him keep his dignity in tact.

“Sweetie, what about Grass Trucking? Have you ever heard anything bad about them?”

Tristan considered her question before answering.

“No, I don’t think I have, honey, why?”

“Well, they have an ad in this trucking magazine that you brought home for lease operators…I was just thinking that maybe you’d be happier if you became an owner-operator again…”

Now that was an idea… yeah, maybe he should give that some serious thought!

Maura watched his whole demeanor change from dark despair to joyful hope in a matter of a few seconds.

“Yeah! Let me check to see if they have a website! I’ll check them out! Thanks, babe!”

“You’re welcome, sweetie!” She giggled, as she left the small room.

Tristan’s fingers flew as he typed in the company’s name on their keyboard with a newfound hope for finding a home in the industry that he’d loved for so many years.

“Maybe Maura’s right…maybe I’ve just been looking at this whole thing wrong. Maybe I need to buy or lease another truck and be my own boss again. I’ve never made a good employee. No one has the right to tell me what to wear, when I can eat, sleep; go home, what to haul or where to go! I’ve been so unhappy ever since we sold our last truck and left the van lines.” His mind went over the possibilities as his eyes now focused on the company’s website. He poured over each page and devoured every word printed for the drivers. Now he hesitated. “I don’t know about all this…things are so different today… it’s a different industry from just a few years ago and with the ever climbing cost of fuel…how in the world can an owner-op make it today? This isn’t something that I can just run with. I need to give this some serious thought before acting on it.

Maura decided to give the company a call on Tristan’s behalf. “The worst that’ll happen is that they’ll take him…” She decided.

As the twosome talked over the possibility of his becoming an owner-operator again, Tristan voiced his concerns. “How can drivers make any money today with the high cost of fuel? It’s almost $5.00 a gallon out there now!”

“I don’t know, honey but they’ve got to be making money somehow or else there wouldn’t be any owner-ops out there!” Maura replied.

“Well, I don’t know…maybe they can’t get out… maybe they’re in too deep to get out!”

Maura thought over his last statement.

“I don’t think so, Tristan. I can’t explain it but I just don’t think that’s right.”

“Well, and then there’s the fact that I’ve moved around so much lately that most companies don’t want me…so, Grass probably won’t want me, either.” Tristan said sadly.

“That’s their loss! You’re an excellent driver! If companies don’t want you because you’ve moved around and left bad situations then that’s their problem! You just haven’t found where you’re supposed to be yet!”

“That’s the whole problem, Maura! I don’t know where I’m supposed to be, anymore! It was so easy when we owned our own truck and we were leased to the van lines…I knew who I was and where I was supposed to be! We made good money and we were together…then 9-11 happened and the bottom dropped out of the industry. Then mom died and I stopped being me and went into a deep fog for over 2 years. Nothing has been the same. Nothing has worked out for me since. I’ve lost my sense of identity and can’t get it back! I hate driving now. I hate being away from you and the pups. I just want to be home with you! I want to be able to complain about normal things that people gripe about, like taking out the trash and having to mow the lawn every week.

Maybe buying or leasing another truck isn’t the right thing for me…maybe I’m not that same driver, anymore. They probably wouldn’t want me anyway…”

With that, Tristan got up and left the room, his shoulders hunched and dejected. He was such a mess and he knew it. What he didn’t know was what to do about it.

Tristan made several phone calls over the next week looking for a driving job. He enjoyed driving the little expediting trucks they were a hoot after driving the semis for so many years. “If you get bad directions in one of those little trucks it’s no big deal because you can turn around almost anywhere, just like in your car! And you can pull into a McDonald’s or Meijer’s anywhere!” He liked to tell other drivers when asked how he liked driving the little straight trucks.

“If I have to keep driving, I think I’d rather drive those than the big trucks”. He decided to himself. So he headed for the office to scan the web for expediting driving jobs.

“Yeah, I’m looking for a driver…how much experience you got?”

“Where do you live?” “How often do you want to go home?”

Tristan hated the routine. He always felt like a bug being examined under a microscope lens. “What’s your driving record look like? How many accidents you got? How many tickets you got?”

They always had to ask their questions before he was allowed to ask them anything.

If they liked what he had to offer then they usually tried to bulldoze him into working for them.

“Oh, yeah! You got a good record! Yeah, welcome aboard! You can start tomorrow!” And off they’d go on a mad sprint of empty promises and meaningless words.

“Now, wait just a minute! I have some questions I want to ask first…” Tristan would start.

“Oh, yeah, yeah! Sure, sure, questions. Okay, now my truck is…”

Again Tristan would try to politely interrupt but would be immediately derailed.

Our boy refused to work for fast talkers who employed strong-arm tactics to gain drivers.

Nobody would bulldoze him into a job!

“You just don’t treat people like that!” He thought to himself.

A week had come and gone as Tristan still searched for his rightful place in the world when the phone call came in from Grass Trucking.

Not only did they want Tristan but also he’d been approved to lease a 2005 Freightliner Columbia series tractor!

Both Maura and Tristan were overjoyed!

“Maybe this is where I’m supposed to go…” Tristan said searching his wife’s reaction.

Maura smiled warmly at her husband.

“I think so honey. I think you just got your answer!”

The company had run his application and was just finishing up when the recruiter asked when he’d like to come for orientation and what color of truck did he want?

As she ran down the list of colors available he stopped her when she came to “teal”.

“That’s it! Teal! I’ll take it!”

The only color truck he’d ever owned had been white because that was the only color the van lines allowed, so, teal would be a welcomed change!

The recruiter finished everything up and ordered Tristan a bus ticket to carry him to Louisville, Kentucky for a two- day orientation. Maura helped him pack.

His recruiter scheduled him a motel room for that Saturday night, Sunday night, Monday and Tuesday nights. Everything was set. When he arrived in Louisville he was instructed to call a cab to carry him to the motel. A company van would pick him and the other drivers up Monday morning at 6:00 in front of the motel lobby.

Maura cried as she said goodbye to Tristan at the bus-station.

“You’re going to be an owner-operator again…I’m so happy for you!” She managed to smile through a steady stream of tears.

Tristan fought back his own tears, as he was only able to squeak out “yeah”.

He was leaving her again. How many more separations could their hearts take?

He questioned his decision but said nothing. What else could he do? There were no jobs at home. He got on the bus.

As the bus left the Detroit bus-station Tristan found himself sitting next to a new truck driver.

“Are you a truck driver?” Tristan asked the young man.

“Yeah.” The kid answered.

“Going to a new job?” Tristan asked.

“Yeah, you too?”

“Yeah. I’m going to Grass Trucking in Louisville.” Tristan replied.

“They didn’t seem to want to give me any information.” The kid said sadly.

“I’m going to Lend Trucking.” He added.

“Oh, okay…how long have you been driving?” Tristan asked.

“6 months.” The kid answered.

Tristan didn’t respond but in his heart he was thanking Grass Trucking for not wanting the new inexperienced driver because they damaged equipment and many of them had the “know -it-all” attitudes.

After the long ride to Louisville Tristan found that this young man was no exception to the rule. This kid had tried to tell Tristan several times that he was wrong about many facets of the industry…

Tristan was glad to leave him behind but wished him well with his new job.

Tristan had phoned the cab company after arriving at the Louisville bus-station and then had to wait one full hour for one to come pick him up. During his wait he’d stepped outside for some fresh air but quickly realized that that had been a mistake as the derelicts of the night stopped by to beg for money, cigarettes and anything else of value.

One stopped by and then refused to leave.

“I’m from Michigan…Saginaw to be exact.”

“I came down here because there’s no work at home and I saw how on the web that a mission here in Louisville helps people find jobs so I came down here…”

Tristan just let the young man ramble on and on.

“Do you believe in God?” The young man asked.

“Yes, I do.” Tristan replied.

“I don’t know if I do or not. I’ve got a kid. No, I have two. My mom takes care of the older one and my old lady has our baby.”

Tristan said nothing but in his heart wondered how a man could just walk out on his responsibilities and family. He also noticed how the younger man referred to his wife as his “old lady” and that angered him. He could never refer to Maura like that. That is so rude and insensitive.

“I like to party and drink and get high and have sex with all kinds of women…” The younger man stated.

Now he searched Tristan’s face for approval but found none.

“You don’t do any of that do you?” He asked.

“Well, no, I don’t drink or get high and I’m happily married so no to having sex with all kinds of women, too.” Tristan explained.

“Maybe I should go to church…but I don’t have any clean clothes to wear.” The young man said sadly.

“It doesn’t matter what you wear or how you look. What matters is that you go! You should go and ask God to help you find a job.” Tristan said.

“Yeah. Maybe I will. Why are you here in Louisville?” The kid asked.

“I’m taking a job here.” Tristan replied.

“Oh yeah? What kind of job?”

“A truck-driving job.” Said Tristan.

Just then a cab skidded to a stop in front of the two men.

“Good luck and go to church!” Tristan told the young man as he headed for the taxicab.

“Thanks man! I will!” The kid shouted back.

During the ride to the motel Tristan decided to ask the cabbie what he thought of Grass Trucking to get a good feel for the company that was about to become his new home.

But Tristan’s blood ran cold at the driver’s answer.

“I’m sorry, sir but I’m not allowed to say.”

Although Tristan didn’t say anything more, in his mind he decided that the cabbie had just given him an answer…and it wasn’t a good one.

Why else would he have said, “I’m not allowed to say anything”?

Tristan was getting a very bad feeling deep down in the pit of his stomach again.

He tried to brush it off as just being silly and tired from the long bus ride but it was an omen. Was it the beginning of a bad adventure? Or was it nothing?

The motel clerk knew nothing of his arriving tonight and said she wasn’t sure if she even had a room for him…if not then he’d have to sleep on the couch in the lobby.

Now he was really regretting his decision.

She did find a room that she thought was vacant. She told him that the only way to be sure was for him to go and check it out.

“You mean I may walk in on someone and get punched in the nose?”

“Yes, sir…I’m afraid so…” She replied.

What had he done now? … He was ready to go home and forget the whole thing.

The room was vacant and he settled in.

Later on he got hungry and considered his options; he only had $20.00 and it had to last him four days, so, eating in the restaurants that were close by was out.

He decided to walk to the nearest “stop and rob” to maybe buy some TV dinners or canned food since his room was a kitchenette with a small fridge, coffee pot, microwave, and kitchen sink.

As he walked to the small store that was just down the street it began to rain. Actually, it began to pour and the winds picked up enough that it blew the rain sideways. Tristan was not having a good day.

Although the tiny store didn’t have any TV dinners, they did have canned chili and beef stew, so, Tristan grabbed one can of each and headed back to his room.

On his way back however he thought of the cans in the plastic bag he carried and hoped that his room came complete with a can opener.

“If not, maybe I have a knife or screwdriver that I can use to open it with.” He decided.

But fate was not smiling on our boy today…the room offered no can opener and he himself didn’t have anything to open the cans with, either.

So, as he looked out the window of his room and saw the rain still coming down sideways he pulled up the hood of his rain jacket and headed for the stairs and the outside world to return the canned food.

He didn’t have a clue as to what he would eat for the next few days but after becoming drenched for a second time he decided that he was no longer hungry…only homesick and lonely.

Maura phoned later on and as Tristan explained his ordeal, she suggested he call Dominos Pizza and order their special of three medium pizzas for $10.00.

“That’ll keep you eating while you’re there in orientation, honey!”

He loved the idea because he loved pizza! Maura rarely ate pizza so any chance Tristan got to order the stuff he did. This would work out great for him!

Orientation went well and there were six of them in class, five of which were to become lease operators and the last was to be a company driver.

The instructors were friendly and helpful. The physicals went very quickly, as the drivers seemed to be put into some kind of assembly line; drug tests first, then weight, height, eye chart, seen by the doctor (who listened to the heart, lungs, checked the ears, throats, knee reflexes and hernia check) out the door!

Each man was given a road test. This consisted of driving one exit down on the freeway and then back to the terminal.

After class was finished on the first day of orientation the drivers were allowed to go across the street to check on their trucks to see when they’d be ready for them to take delivery. (Were they clean? Did they need any work done like oil change or anything replaced?)

Everyone’s trucks were ready to go except Tristan’s. His was in the shop and wouldn’t be ready for a day or so. Another bad omen…

Orientation was over and everyone was getting their trucks and grabbing loads except Tristan, his truck still wasn’t ready. He would spend another night at the motel.

He wondered why everything always seemed to go wrong for him. What had he ever done to deserve all this?

The next day his truck was finally ready to go and after he literally threw his stuff in it, his dispatcher sent him the information on his first load over the satellite. The load was four hours away in Owensboro, Kentucky and was to be picked up between 10:00 and 11:00 a.m. It was now 11:30 a.m. So, Tristan sent a message to his dispatcher pointing this fact out to her. Her response was not to worry about the time but rather to just do the best he could. They were working to get him home so that he could pick up the rest of his stuff and get his beloved Schnauzer, Wyatt, who would be his companion in the truck.

Tristan took off for Owensboro and didn’t stop till he’d reached the shipper.

He was loaded immediately and took off after making his loaded check in call to dispatch and bringing up his log.

It had been raining all day and was still coming down pretty hard as Tristan wheeled the massive rig southward toward his destination of Ft. Smith, Arkansas.

He only made two stops all day long, once to fuel in Matthews, Missouri and later for a pit stop. He stopped for the night in Earl, Arkansas and once settled in he did the math on how far out he was from his destination and what time he would arrive. The figures told him that he would be a half hour late for his appointment. He redid the math to make sure. The same result came up on his calculator. He had to send dispatch a message over the satellite alerting them of the problem. He’d put it in their hands that was all he could do. He’d driven his 11 hours and now had to shut down for 10 hours. This was federal law in the United States for truck drivers. He’d only stopped twice during his run and had run five miles over the speed limit the entire way. There was nothing else he could’ve done. Now it was time to call in the big guns…dispatch and they would have to bump the delivery time back or re-power the load.

Tristan wasn’t concerned about it he’d done all he could do. Holly had dispatched him 4 hours late on it to begin with and there was no way that he could make up that time. It was gone forever.

Dispatch answered his message with; “this load has to deliver at 8:00 a.m. C.S.T. or the entire assembly line will shut down.”

Tristan was no longer amused. He phoned dispatch. He explained everything but the dispatcher’s only comment was the same; “this load can’t be late, the whole assembly line will shut down if it is!”

“Can’t you re-power the load?” Tristan asked.

“No, we don’t do that.” The man replied.

“Okay, so what do we do now then?” Tristan questioned.

“Well, I don’t know. I guess you should just take your ten- hour break and then call your dispatcher the first thing in the morning. Maybe she can have the delivery time changed.”

Tristan was not impressed. Unbelievable! I’m dispatched four hours late on this load and now they’re acting like it’s going to be my fault if the load is late and the customer has to shut down their assembly line! It’s not their fault it’s mine!

Tristan now believed he’d made a very bad decision to come to this company. All he could do was go to bed and call Holly first thing in the morning.

Tristan got up, shaved and washed up for the new day and then got himself a cup of coffee before calling his dispatcher with the problem. This was not a call he was looking forward to making. He’d noticed when he talked with her on the phone right after he’d started that she didn’t have a sense of humor. She’d implied that the only reason she was talking to him at all was because it was her job to do so. Now he had to call her to tell her that this load was going to be late. Right at that point he’d have preferred to have had his head sewn to carpet than to have to make this phone call.

“Here goes nothing!” He said aloud as he dialed her number. She was not amused. Actually, she was bordering on hateful as she told him that if the load were delivered late that it would be his fault and he would receive a service failure on his permanent record.

“But you dispatched me four hours late! How could I possibly make up that time? This is not my fault! I had to shut down for my ten hour break!”

“Tristan, I am not going to argue with you, you knew the delivery time when you accepted the load. Now, if you deliver it late then you will receive a service failure.”

“So, you’re telling me to ignore federal law and run this load?” Tristan asked incredulously.

“No, I am not. Obviously we can’t ask you to break federal law.” She insisted dryly.

Tristan didn’t want to argue with her and he had nothing further to say.

“I will call our customer and tell them that they’ll have to shut down their assembly line because of you and this will cost both them and us a bundle of money but you sit out your ten hour break.” She snapped.

Tristan was holding his temper and his tongue in check but he had had enough. He apologized and hung up.

Next he called Maura to fill her in on what had just happened.

She was shocked.

“I’d go ahead and run the load, honey…you only have another half hour to go, right?” Maura asked.

“Yeah, another half hour.” Tristan replied.

“Yeah, if it were me I’d go!” She said.

“Okay, I’ll go. No one is going to put a service failure on my record!” Tristan spat.

He gassed on it and ran 75 M.P.H. all the way across Arkansas. He arrived at the consignee at exactly 15 minutes before 8:00.

He’d saved the customer from having to shut down an entire assembly line, although it had cost him breaking a law to do so.

His next load wouldn’t be ready for almost two days, so, he sat and waited.

He had nothing to do, and no money to do anything with. It was hot and he didn’t even have any shorts with him. With the high cost of fuel he couldn’t afford to run the truck for the air conditioning so he just sat around and wiped his forehead.

The customer said the load wouldn’t be ready until about 9:00 p.m. even though it was supposed to be ready at 5:00 p.m. when Tristan had gotten there to pick it up.

Again he sat and waited in the Arkansas heat.

“Dang it, I don’t know how these people down here can take this heat!” He mouthed to the air as he mopped his forehead.

At 10:00 he went inside to check with the customer again about his load and was told it wouldn’t be ready for several hours and to go to bed in his truck that they would come out and wake him up when it was ready. So, after climbing back into his truck he phoned dispatch to tell them about the load and to make sure that they understood that there was now no way that he’d be able to make the 8:00 a.m. delivery in Grand Rapids, Michigan on Monday morning as it was now 10:00 p.m. Saturday night and it was almost a 900 mile drive.

“No, problem, it’s not your fault and of course I understand that the load will be late. Don’t worry about it. When you have a better idea of when you can deliver it just let us know so we can call the customer and change the delivery time, okay?” The man stated.

Now that’s more like it! Tristan thought to himself.

“Okay, great and thanks! I’ll let you know as soon as I know.” Tristan said.

He went to bed.

At 4:40 a.m. his cell-phone rang.

“Sweetie, have you gotten your load yet?” Maura asked through several yawns.

“No, I haven’t! I’m glad you called, I was asleep and no one has come out to wake me up.” He replied sleepily.

“You’d better go in and check on it, honey!” Maura urged.

“Yeah, I will, thanks, honey, I’ll call you back when I know more.”

His load was now ready and he backed into an open door.

After he was loaded and sealed, he sent in the information to dispatch regarding the delivery date and time. He’d told them that the earliest he could deliver would be by noon the next day.

After leaving the customer a message came across the satellite asking why the load was going to be late.

“Oh for God’s sake! Let’s not start this nonsense again!” He cried out in anger and disbelief.

He phoned dispatch and explained the whole story to the woman on the other end.

After listening to his narration she asked again why the load was going to be late.

“Because the load is just now ready and in my trailer and it’s almost 900 miles to Grand Rapids and the scheduled delivery is for 25 and a half hours from now…” Tristan explained again.

“Yes, and you can’t deliver it on time because…” The woman asked.

“Because I am a solo and cannot, will not drive 25 and a half hours straight to make your delivery!” Tristan said into the tiny phone.

Again he was controlling his anger and his tongue very well but to no avail. This woman wasn’t impressed.

Tristan said he hoped she’d have a great day before hanging up on her.

“UGH! …UNBELIEVABLE! I just can’t believe these people! What have I gotten myself into now?” He shouted to no one.

He called Maura back to tell her the latest.

She couldn’t believe how he’d been treated.

“Oh my God! What kind of company is this?”

The twosome talked for quite awhile but neither could figure out what should be done about any of it. It looked as though Tristan was stuck again.

Later that evening Tristan decided to call Gary, their driver friend.

As Gary listened Tristan explained everything. Gary told his friend that he needed to give the truck back to the company and get away from them.

“That’s how those leasing companies operate bubba. They set their pick up and delivery times so that you’ll always be late and get a service failure and then you’re also in trouble with safety and the DOT. because you’re running illegally. They got you coming and going…you’re screwed no matter what you do! Take their truck back to them, bubba!”

Tristan agreed with him but how would he be able to tell Maura? She desperately needed money to pay their bills. How could he once again tell her that not only would there not be any money coming in but that he’d made another bad decision and needed to leave the company? His heart sank heavily. Still, he owned up to his failure and called his wife.

She was angry and worried. “What are we going to do, Tristan?”

“I don’t know, babe…it’s all my fault again.”

“No, it’s not. But we’ve got to do something!”

They were both so worried and scared that they wound up saying regretful things and each hung up on the other one.

Tristan tossed and turned during his ten- hour break. He couldn’t sleep.

When his alarm went off he got up, dressed and took off.

Once again he busted his butt to get the load there on time and made it with just minutes to spare.

“Gary’s right…this is so wrong and illegal!” Tristan thought.

The game plan was for him to deadhead home from Grand Rapids to pick up his things and Wyatt but before leaving town Tristan made a call to the company’s problem solving department. He explained in detail what all had happened and how he’d come to the decision that this company wasn’t for him. He finished with “where do you folks want your truck?”

The gentleman was very kind and asked Tristan not to make such a major decision as tired as he was but rather get a good night sleep, go home to his family and then decide.

Tristan was too tired to argue with him and agreed to do so.

However, Holly wasn’t ready to let him just deadhead home. She had to have a say in everything concerning him and this floored him. If he was truly an owner-operator then a dispatcher had no say in what he did or didn’t do unless it concerned a load and his had cancelled.

He phoned home.

Maura reminded him that he was an owner-operator.

“You come home! Never mind her, she has no say in it!”

“You’re absolutely right!”

With that he called Holly and as politely as he could muster he told her that he had a major decision to make and that he was going home to make it…NOW.

“Wait, I’m working on a load for you.” She said over the satellite.

Again he reminded her that he had a decision to make and just wanted to go home.

“So, you want me to forget about a load for you?” She asked.

“Yes, for now, please.” He replied.

“Okay, head for home.” She responded.

“Thank you and have a great day!” He said.

When he got home both he and Maura wrote up a pros and cons list of all the reasons why he should stay and why he should leave the company to see which one filled up first.

The cons filled a page the pros listed about three reasons in all.

Next Maura went online to check to see how much money he’d made after driving 2000 miles and running two trips.

“That truck is definitely going back, Tristan!” She shouted.

“Why, what’s wrong?” He asked.

“Come here and look at this!”

As he entered their tiny office he looked over her shoulder at the computer screen.

“You ran a little more than 2000 miles for the week and they only paid you for 1,700.

Also, out of all those miles you only have a total of $25.45 coming to you!”

“The rest all went into fuel, insurance and a truck payment!”

“Oh, that’s it! The truck is definitely going back!” Tristan fumed.

“I broke my butt and risked fines for $25 and some change?!”

“No way!”

After getting a good night sleep Tristan called the same kind gentleman back to tell him that he’d made his decision to leave and where did he want their truck. To his amazement the man wasn’t kind and concerned this morning. Rather, he seemed indignant and left Tristan feeling as though he’d interrupted something important.

“Sir, I believe I spoke with you yesterday regarding terminating my employment?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I speak with so many drivers everyday, it’s hard to tell…” He replied.

“Well, sir, I’ve been forced to run illegally since I started last week.”

“Oh yeah! Yeah, I guess you did speak to me, so, what can I do for you now?” The man asked quickly.

“I’ve decided to terminate and need to know where you want me to take the truck.” Tristan said sadly.

“Alright, you’ll have to call your dispatcher and then call the truck dealership to notify them. I’ll give you the dealership’s phone number.”

“Oh man, I’ve got to call Holly and tell her I’m terminating, Maura!” Tristan said incredulously.

“What? That’s ridiculous! You have to ask your dispatcher for permission to quit? What kind of a company is this?”

Tristan was busy dialing her number.

“Hi Holly, this is Tristan Healey and I’m calling to tell you that I’m terminating.”

The voice on the other end was angry and bitter.

“Thanks so much for giving all of us a chance, Tristan!”

Tristan’s jaw fell to the floor.

Maura looked over at him and asked what had happened.

“Tristan, what’s wrong honey?”

Before he could answer Holly started in again.

“You’ve only been here five days…thanks so much for wasting everyone’s time, Tristan!”

He’d never had a dispatcher talk to him like this before! He was absolutely in shock!

His eyes just kept getting bigger with every sentence she spat at him and his mouth was on the floor.

“I hope you’re ready to quit driving truck, Tristan because you’re done! You’ll never get another driving job again! Do you hear me? You are so done, Tristan!

I’ll be sure to put all this on your D.A.C. report, Tristan! You’re so done!”

(A D.A.C. report is what all trucking companies use to list a driver’s record while with that company. Most American trucking companies now use D.A.C. so whatever a driver does or does not do while employed follows him/her around for the rest of their careers.)

Tristan only managed to get out a feeble reply to all this hate that was being spewed at him.

“Well, I’ve been lied to from the beginning!” Was all he could get out.

He was so angry and so shocked that he just couldn’t think of anything to say!

He’d done everything he could to run these loads and had been set up just like Gary had said to fail both times. This was not the company for him!

He finally hung up on Holly. It was over.

Next, he called the truck dealership and spoke with the manager.

“Why are you leaving Mr. Healey?” The gentleman asked.

So, as Tristan explained everything to him, the man listened quietly.

When Tristan had finished, the man was obviously upset about what had happened to Tristan.

“Okay, I’m documenting all of this. You were treated very shabbily and forced to run illegally both times…”

“Yes, sir.” Tristan replied.

“Okay, Mr. Healey. I’d appreciate it if you return my truck to Louisville.”

“Yes, sir, I plan to return it. I don’t have any way to get home, I’ll have to walk but I will return your truck.”

“Oh no, you won’t walk home, where do you live?” The man asked.

“I live in Flint, Michigan, sir.”

“Okay, I’ll buy you a bus ticket and give you money for cab fare back to the bus station in Louisville, you will not walk home, sir!”

Tristan was touched. This man truly cared and felt bad about how Tristan had been treated.

Tristan told him that the truck was dirty when he’d gotten into it and that the jake brake didn’t work.

“It’s probably just a fuse.” Tristan added.

“Yeah, probably is.” The man agreed.

“Also, Mr. Healey, if you need anything until you get back to Louisville, you have my extension number, just give me a call. If there’s anything I can do to help you out…”

Tristan thanked him and said that he would be leaving shortly to head for Louisville. Maura helped Tristan unload his things from the truck. Everything came out except what he would need until he returned home two days later.

Tristan headed for Louisville. He knew that his driving career was almost over.

It had run its course. It wasn’t the same industry that he’d fallen in love with 24 years earlier.

But then he wasn’t the same rough and tough kid either…

Once arriving back at the Louisville terminal he explained to everyone what had happened. Everyone apologized and said that it was the company’s loss that he was leaving. He was also told that he wasn’t the first driver that Holly had treated this way and forced out but that he just might be the last one she did it to!

Several people phoned their head terminal out of state and talked to executives about this dispatcher.

“Trust me, Tristan, this is not over!” He’d been told.

He was even asked to call two executives with the company and tell them what had happened. So, he did. They were both very nice and both asked him to stay and give them another chance but the damage was done. Tristan just couldn’t find it in him to stay and trust them again. He’d been hurt too badly.

“All I ask is that you prevent this from happening to anyone else.” Tristan had asked.

“I have power with this company, Tristan, just tell me what you want and it’s yours!” The man stated.

“Just don’t let Holly treat another driver the way she treated me…that’s all I ask.”

“We’re losing a good driver…this is our loss…” The man said sadly.

Tristan headed outside to the waiting taxicab. He was ready to go home.

He had learned a lot. He no longer wanted to own his own truck.

He no longer wanted to drive a truck period. That chapter of his life was ending.

He just wanted to be home everyday with Maura, their pups and cats.

The restless spirit deep inside of him was now ready to go home to stay.

But it wouldn’t end just yet and he knew it…