Page 25 of Big Daddy Mountain Man

“I’m just so afraid of snakes,” she continued.

She and Honey were standing in an old barn that rested about a hundred yards behind the cabin and off to the side. Thankfully, the grass wasn’t too high that time of year, but it was alive and growing. Amber didn’t know much about country or mountain living, but she knew springtime was when the snakes woke up. She prayed she didn’t encounter any!

She’d been eyeing the barn out the back window off and on all day while she worked. Finally, after getting all the light bulbs in the cabin replaced, the whole place dusted, swept, and mopped, and some other odds and ends done, curiosity had gotten the better of her and she’d cut across the field to investigate.

Now, she saw that the barn contained a rare treasure: an older model Chevy pickup truck.

“Whoa! Does this thing still run?” she wondered aloud to Honey.

She scanned the barn’s floor for snakes, smiled when she didn’t see any, and then skipped to the driver’s side door. She opened it but paused before sliding in.

“I don’t see any creepy-crawlies,” she announced. “Do you think it’s safe?”

She finally decided it was and stepped up into the truck. After placing Honey in the passenger seat, she put her hands on the steering wheel and imagined what it would be like to drive.

“If only we could… ooh.” She’d noticed the key clipped to the sun visor in the middle of her sentence, and now her wish looked like it could be reality.

If the truck would even start. It had been sitting there for who knew how long.

“There’s only one way to find out,” she told Honey.

Yet she paused before sliding the key into the ignition.

“Hmm. The Colliers did say I could use whatever I found around the house,” she reasoned. “So technically I have their permission. And a truck would come in handy. I need to haul all that trash to the curb so the garbage truck can collect it. It would sure be easier taking it in one trip instead of carrying it all in multiple trips.”

The reasoning held up, she decided. It wouldn’t be unethical to borrow the truck. Just there on the property.

Amber slid out of the truck, opened the barn doors all the way, and cleared the path for the vehicle’s exit.

Once she was back in the truck, she leaned over and fastened her stuffie’s seatbelt, saying, “Hang on tight, Honey. We have to be safe.”

Now it was the moment of truth: would the truck start?

Drawing a deep breath and holding it, Amber turned the key. The engine tried to turn, the loud cranking sound filling the barn, but the motor didn’t start.

She pumped the gas pedal several times.

It seemed to take forever, and just when she was about to give up, the engine came to life with a loud roar.

“Woohoo! Remember Honey, hang on! We’re going for a ride!”

She gave the truck another moment to warm up, put it in drive, and then took her foot off the brake. The vehicle lurched forward before dying.

“No big deal. Just a little setback, not the end of the world,” she cheered. “Hmm. I’m going to call you Betsy.” She patted the truck’s dash. “Come on, Betsy. You can do it. I believe in you. Come on.”

She turned the key again and pumped the gas.

As the engine got louder and louder, Amber continued coaching it.

“Think of the fun we’ll have. You’ve been sitting in this barn for so long. Don’t you want to get out and explore? Be in the sunshine again?”

The truck fired up, roaring once more.

“Yay, Betsy! I knew you could do it! Now, let’s—whoa!”

The truck barreled out of the barn, practically flying outside.

“Okay, Betsy. We… can… slow down just a little.”

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