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at O’Charleys.  Hannah stayed with Grandma Tuttle
on those evenings since Travis could not be relied on to be there.
    Toward the end of their unhappy
union, Travis bought a used truck at Fast Eddie’s Auto Sales on Chapman Highway, a Ford Ranger.  Eddie’s had purchased a dozen of these in an off-lease
deal. Tammy liked the new truck so they traded her aging Ford Escort for a
second one almost exactly like it. One was black and one was dark blue. 
Neither truck had a lot of features, but both were in fair condition. Good
basic transportation, although not a very good family car, an opinion I did not
share out loud, since Tammy’s story was going so well.
    The next weekend, Travis decided
he wanted to take the new blue truck out, since it was still clean from being
detailed at the dealership.  Tammy and the baby went to sleep without waiting
for Travis since he had been staying out later and later.  He came home about
four in the morning, drunk as could be and extremely angry.
    “You can’t let me go out for a few
drinks with out fuckin’ with me,” he yelled, barely able to stand up. “Had to
come and check up on me didn’t ya. Real cute how you switched the trucks like
that. Tryin’ to mess with my mind?” He pointed excitedly at his temples, as if
there was anything in there.  He was crazed and Tammy had no idea what he was
talking about. He was in her face and Tammy was definitely scared. She ran and
got him a beer as an apology (for what she did not know) and prayed he would
fall asleep in his dingy recliner.
    She had suspected he was cheating
on her but was too petrified of a confrontation like this one to think about
following him. Not wanting to push Travis’ temper, she told him he must have
taken the black truck by accident without thinking about it. She opened the
beer for him and suggested he relax in front of the TV before bed.  She went to
the trailer’s small master bedroom with its huge vanity tub in sight and lay
back down.  Ten minutes later she heard snoring mixed in with the sound of QVC
playing on television.  She went to sleep, relieved.
    The next day, Travis had a
horrible hang over and seemed to have no memory of their conversation the night
before.  This suited Tammy fine. Feeling trapped, she was already trying to
think of a peaceful way out of this hellish situation. Travis went to the
construction site for a little over time and left Tammy to drop off the baby
before work.  When she went outside she noticed her blue truck was parked in
the gravel space farthest from the house.  She usually parked in the spot
closer to the door, in case it was raining.   While strapping the baby in,
Tammy noticed the truck smelled slightly of nasty Winston cigarettes, Travis’
brand. (She smoked Virginia Slims).  Maybe he had taken her truck. Maybe he was
on drugs, really losing it this time.
    Several times the next week she
had the feeling that her blue truck was not in the spot she had left it in. 
She was very busy and trying to remember where she had left the truck in the
driveway seemed to give her a headache.
    The next week it all came to a
head. As it turns out, Travis was cheating and the trucks were switching
places. Every night at three seventeen a.m., to be exact (the switching not the
cheating).
    Tammy had me really lost now.  She
was telling me this with a serious, beautiful face. My slight buzz made this
all somewhat amusing but it was obvious to me that she believed these trucks
were teleporting, switching as she put it.  I was trying to feign belief, but
she could tell I was not convinced. So she started again
    Here’s what happened. It was
Saturday night, a week after Travis’ drunken ranting about trucks switching. 
After eight hours at O’Charley’s, she had picked up little Hannah from Grandma
Tuttle’s and put her back to bed at the trailer before one.
    Tammy awoke with a start at three
seventeen a.m.  The sound of tires sliding on their gravel made her