had to use steps up the side to get into it.
Our load is a ready-made house for oil workers. Mr Azizi said we are like a tortoise with our house on our back, but hopefully faster. Or a speedy giant snail. He speaks very clearly and makes sure his face is pointing at me. Mum didn’t even have to explain. I think he must have a friend who lip-reads. Our house weighs tons, which is good Mr Azizi said, because if you’re heavy you stick to the road like glue . He put one hand on the other and mimed trying to pull them apart. He says pipes aren’t a good load because they swing around like you’re doing the Highland fling. And he mimed that too.
Now he’s giving us his Grand Tour. There’s loads of switches and dials, like in an aeroplane. There’s a bed above our seats, Mr Azizi’s sleeping bag and our suitcases are on top of it. Mum and I have to squash up onto one seat, but it’s pretty big, so we fit. There’s only one seat belt though and Mum’s made me wear it. There’s a porta-potty. But we’ll have to stop somewhere. There’s no way José I’m using a potty. We’ve got a CB radio, which he says all the drivers use, because the road we’re going to go on gets quite narrow and there aren’t road lights so you have to let other drivers know where you are so you don’t bump into each other.
Yasmin was glad they were with Adeeb, who was thoughtful and careful and would surely drive them safely. She studied the map he’d given her. He’d told her it was for trekkers in the summer not drivers in the winter, as there was just one main road from Fairbanks to Deadhorse, the Elliot Highway, which led onto the Dalton Highway. She found Anaktue marked on his map; over three hundred and fifty miles away from Fairbanks and thirty-five miles to the east of the Dalton Highway. She hoped there was a smaller road linking the Dalton Highway to Anaktue but there was nothing, not even a hiking trail; so no way of getting there by vehicle. They’d have to go to Deadhorse and get a taxi plane to Matt, as she’d first planned.
OMG! We have a satellite in the truck! Mr Azizi is linking my laptop up to it! I never ever say ‘OMG’, even though it’s really easy to finger-spell, because I don’t like words you have to do with a ! I look really dorky when I pull a ! face. Dad says it’s easier to do it with your voice, you just sound screechy when you say ‘OMG’, like teenage girls, who use it the most. When he says ‘screechy’, I say, ‘Like fingernails dragging across a blackboard?’ And he says, ‘Spot on.’ Even though I can’t hear the screechy sound, I get the general uggghness. But the satellite is OMG in a coolio not screechy way because now Dad can email me back, even when we’ve gone past mobile reception and Wi-Fi.
Mr Azizi says that when we leave Fairbanks it’s going to be really dark. He shows me a little light I can use when Mum and me need to talk to each other, so we can see each other’s hands and lips.
Did you know that the loudest bird in the world is called the superb lyrebird? Really! And I think some people – a very few – should have ‘superb’ as their name too: the Superb Mr Azizi!
I want Mum to say thank you to him for me, but she would tell me to say it myself ‘USING YOUR WORDS, RUBY’ so I give Mr Azizi a ‘thank you’ smile, and he understands because he smiles back and gives a little ‘you’re welcome’ shrug.
He’s getting out of the truck to give it one final check and then we’re going to set off. Mum watches him through the windscreen. She’s all tensed up like a greyhound; you know, at the start of a race? All their muscles tightened right up, ready to spring out and race at a hundred miles an hour after the pretend furry rabbit. I think she’s worried Mr Azizi will change his mind. But I’m sure he won’t. He has something settled about him, like he says something and he’ll do it. Mum’s like that too, but in a less calm way. You’d have to
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