Page 8 of Rocking the Trucker

The pastor stood in the wings, his smile so wide, Gabriel had a feeling his facial muscles would be sore for the next day or two.

“You were amazing!” the man gushed as he reached out to give Gabriel a hug.

He had warned him when they met that he was a hugger. Most ministers Gabriel had met over the years were. Gabriel was all right with that. Once upon a time, he had also been a hugger. But prison had changed that.

Instead of stepping forward into a hug, he stepped back, staying well out of reach.

“You don’t want to hug me right now,” he said when the pastor’s smile collapsed into a frown. “I’m a wet, sweaty mess.”

The man’s smile returned and he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Gabriel. “A little honest sweat doesn’t scare me,” he said.

Gabriel mentally shrugged and returned the man’s embrace, even going so far as to pat his back. Once he was free again, he looked around, disappointed he did not see Sam around, though he did not expect the trucker to be waiting for him.

He turned back to the pastor. “Once the room clears out, I’ll pack my gear and get out of your hair.”

He just wasn’t sure what he would do next since he would not be able to fall asleep for hours. He just wished he had a way to clear the adrenaline from his system so he could sleep. But he’d been clean and sober for two years and could no longer see himself inviting a woman or two back to his trailer for some meaningless sex.

Especially when the person he wanted to be with was probably sound asleep in the cab outside.

While he waited for the building to empty out, he slipped out the back door, using a brick to keep it from locking so he could get back in. Going to his trailer, he took a five-minute, ice-cold shower to rinse off the ick, before changing into jeans and a plain black t-shirt. Combing his hair straight back from his face, he added a baseball cap and felt he was ready for the rest of the night.

The building was nearly empty by the time he finished packing his guitars and other gear. Going to the lobby, he was surprised to see that nearly all of the merchandise had been sold. There were only a handful of t-shirts and one box of CDs left.

He was repacking the merchandise into a single box when the pastor approached from the direction of his office.

“I wasn’t sure whether you wanted cash or a check, so I split the amount and you get both,” he said, holding out a thick envelope.

“Thank you. I haven’t given that much thought, but will have my agent figure something out for the future,” Gabriel slid the thick envelope into his back pocket. “I’ll be out of here in a few minutes. I just have to carry everything to the trailer.”

“Need a hand?”

“No, thanks, I’ll be fine.”

It took three trips, and one last walk around the stage and wings to make sure he had packed everything and he let the door close and lock. It took a few minutes to secure everything back in place inside the trailer, but by the time the pastor and his family drove out of the empty parking lot, Gabriel was finished and not sure what to do next.

Pulling out the envelope, he sat at the table in the trailer and counted the money, stunned by the amount. Opening his phone, he sent an email to Alan, sharing all the success of the evening with the only man who would care.

After putting the envelope in the safe built into the bedroom floor, he grabbed a bottle of water from the case in the refrigerator, and stepped out of the trailer. He walked around the parking lot twice before returning to stand in front of the trailer. Looking around the darkened parking lot to confirm he was alone, he looked up at the night sky and smiled when he saw not one, but three falling stars.

“I wish Sam would forgive me. I hope this album and tour are a ginormous success. I wish Sam could love me and take me back,” he whispered.

****

Sam had not been ableto sleep, expecting to hear Gabriel return to the trailer so he left the cab and sat in the shadows, watching, and waiting. Only the man made no noise as he had in years past. No loud talking, laughing women, or groupies begging to be his next one-night stand.

Instead, he watched Gabriel make several trips from the church to the trailer, carrying his guitars and other equipment. Though Sam was tempted to help, he also did not want to be seen or treated as a roadie. That had happened years ago, and he did not want a repeat of the experience.

Instead, he remained where he was and watched. Though they were both exhausted, Gabriel would not sleep for several hours. The rush he found performing kept him flying on an emotional high for several hours before he would finally crash. Their last tour together, Gabriel had used women, alcohol, and drugs to settle, which had hurt Sam, but Gabriel didn’t want his fans to know he was bisexual.

Sam was about to climb into his cab and force himself to bed when the door to the trailer opened and Gabriel emerged. He settled and watched as Gabriel walked around the parking lot, waving at the last two cars to drive away. The man then came back to stand in front of the trailer and look up.

Sam had been staring at the stars earlier, and knew in a small town in the middle of the night with few lights on, the stars put on an impressive show. Looking up, he saw the three falling stars and, though he was a realist, he whispered a wish of his own.

“I wish Gabriel would apologize and love me again.”

Pushing to his feet, he slowly approached the man who remained standing with his head tilted back and his face pointing to the sky. The darkness seemed to grow deeper and darker as he closed the distance between them, but Sam continued his silent approach.

When he was an arm’s length away from his quarry, he stopped and took a breath. He knew Gabriel had showered after the show, he always did. He would have showered in his clothes to rinse them off, then stripped and hung the clothes in the shower to dry.

---