InsaneJournal

A Girl And Her Dog
Who: Coop and Tripper and Open
When: Home and Here, bedtime and wake up time.
What: An arrival
Where: New Mexico and Grazer Island

Daylight was just starting to break on the dusty horizon as Coop steered Betty off of the interstate and in to an awfully nice looking state of the art truck stop not too far out of the city limits of Roswell. It boasted showers, rooms, a pool hall and a diner, she noticed as she cruised on through at a leisurely and cautious pace. There were people about and her heavy load in the trailer wouldn't allow for any quick stops.

On the passenger seat, Tripper stuffed his head out of the half-lowered window, drooling a little bit down the glass as his tongue lolled. Ever the showman, he barked a couple of greetings to some burly men hanging about out in front of the pool hall. No less than one of them raised their meaty hands and hollared a greeting right back. She thought she heard her name, Coop, on the wind from their direction. It happened more and more. The longer she took these long hauls the more she made what she called 'road friends'. Sure, she got ribbed for being a girl and pint-sized to boot but there were plenty of Ol' Gals to back her up if anyone got too mouthy on the subject. People rarely did though, she took most things in stride and Coop genuinely liked people. She tried to get along with all of her fellow road warriors.

Steering in to a well-lit parking spot near the gas bar, she noted that she was sitting heavier than most the other trailers here tonight. For a moment she had a qualm. Maybe she should move on, radio to find a secure yard where her load might be safer. Her eyes were burning, though, and she knew her needs well enough to know she needed to park it for a few hours at least. She was only about fifteen minutes shy of her eight hours on and lible to get fined if she pushed on. Nope, this would have to do but she knew she was sleeping with her load for the day and not in once of those spacious rooms.



She radioed in her location and clocked out before grabbing Tripper's leash and slipping a pair of well-worn brown leather flip-flops with turquoise beading across the top of the toe-thong. "Ready to go be social, big guy?" she asked, nudging the big brown hound amiably. Tripper lolled a doggy grin at her, his tongue rolling out of the side of his mouth. Chuckling, Coop clipped him in to his leash and lead the way toward the group of drivers who'd waved to her.

Two hours later she'd been hugged, groped, sweated on, beered, fed and chatted up about all kinds of relevant news. Biggest on the list this fine June morning was the sudden death of Michael Jackson. One of her favourite intercontinental drivers, a jivin' guy from Watts named Henry Pole, was just broken up about it. He'd seen the Jackson 5 perform when he was little and he'd always been a fan. Waving a farewell to everyone, she lead her partner in crime back toward the only home they had.

Betty was a custom rig. The sleeper cab was larger than what one normally saw, spacious and light. The ceiling was mirrored to make it seem bigger and her bed was big enough for both her and the sizable dog. There was a toilet and a sink in a little closet, a little two person table and plenty of cabinet space. She even had a flat screen t.v for movie watching. It wasn't much, but it was home. They liked to be outside as much as possible anyways. If they weren't driving, they tried to find a park to ramble through or would jog the truck stops parking lots. A good life, Coop felt.

"Aaaaalright, Trip," she said as she topped up his water bowl, and clicked on the overhead fan. It was hot in the back and she had her windows open a bit. Hopefully the fan would be enough to let them get some sleep. She slipped off her flip flops and tucked them into a cupboard before flopping down on the bed. She didn't bother getting under the covers, not with how much it was roasting already. She hicked the skirt of her bright red maxi dress up over her thighs and sighed as she relaxed. It didn't take time for her to drop right off since Coop was a champion sleeper. She didn't even feel it when Tripper jumped up into the rest and relaxed into sleep as well with his heavy head resting on her stomach. Her mother used to say she could sleep through the end of the world.

Coop had never thought her mother had been more right...

It was as though someone had dumped a drum of ice water on her. One minute she was sweating through her clothes and the next, sputtering and gasping for breath. Something was pulling at her clothes, as her body. In her confused, sleep addled state, Coop flailed, trying to dislodge her attackers. Tripper yelped and then he was barking. Not his usual good natured bark but a loud and equally confused cocophany. Coop raised her hands as another loud sound descended on her and she was crushed backward and then sucked down yet again. Tripper's barking sounded frantic and further away than before. Wiping at her face only succeeded in getting sand in her eyes.

Coughing and blind, she tried to crawl away from the waves and was struck with a third one. Who had dumped her in the ocean?! And wasn't she in New Mexico, nowhere near an ocean?! Why was it so loud? She finally managed to cry the sand out of her nearly-black eyes and got a gander at what was going on around there.

The sky was black and the wind was throwing sand wildly. The waves were crashing and she could plainly see that it was not an ocean at all. Just a lake being violently stirred up by the weather. "Tripper!" she called, cupping her hands around her mouth. The dog was nowhere in sight, she realized. He was gone. "Tripper!" she yelled in panic, hauling the smocked top of her maxi dress higher on her chest even as the soaked skirt wanted to pull it down again. The wing whipped her short brown hair dry in minutes as she stumbled barefoot down the beach, trying to follow the footprints of her best friend.