QOD: This is a colon : and this is a semi-colon ; - what's a semi-truck?

Why, hey! M’liss. Ain’t seen that purty face a yourn for donkey’s years. Heared you was gittin’ yourself edicated way up north. Done finished, eh? Well, ain’t that nice—could use us some good doctorin’ hereabouts. Lindy? Oh no, hon—she up ‘n’ move to Truck Stop. Ha! Guess you don’t know ‘bout that. Set a spell ‘n’ I be right glad to tell it.

All started with that Flynt boy, cain’t remember his given, but one a them from Post Hole. Got hisself a shine for our Lindy—first seed her at that Pumpkin Dance down in Bascomb they do ever year. Oh, you never did see the like. Got so he were climbin’ over Yon Hill most ever day, bringin’ her posies, singin’ songs ‘n’ gazin’ at her with them big brown eyes a his. His daddy didn’t like it one bit, no sir-ee bob! Ol’ Flynt runs the gen’ral store over to Post Hole, if’n you remember. Come on over here one day ‘n’ sits hisself down to have a chat with Lindy, see if’n she got a serious yen for his fool boy. Seems she did, ‘n’ she could see the sense a gittin’ him settled down somewhat, ‘cause ain’t nobody can live on air nor pure love.

Upshot was the boy git hisself betrothed ‘n’ now he got to be a man ‘n’ pull his weight ‘n’ then some. His daddy set him to drivin’ the truck, seein’ it as a way to put off temptation to go sprintin’ over Yon Hill afore work bein’ done. So that boy’s drivin’ the Pit Road ever day, near ‘nough, gittin’ supplies ‘n’ such, haulin’ ‘em back. ‘Course, he’s takin’ milk down to Bascomb, oh, three times a week, too, collectin’ in trade from them dairy folks over Ridgeway. Takin’ other stuff too, a ‘course, but it’s that milk gits him riled.

His daddy was the one to think a that, if’n you remember, or maybe you don’t, makes no diff’rence. Easy to be sendin’ down cheese, a ‘course, but it cain’t fetch the price fresh milk do. So he gits them boys up to Half Creek to trade him ice ‘stead a tryin’ to find coin or doin’ without, ‘n’ he gits him some sawdust from the lumber mill. Packs cans a milk in layers a sawdust ‘n’ ice, y’see, ‘n’ keeps it cold all the way to Bascomb.

Flynt boy purty much hates that ol’ truck, ‘cause it needs a bit a babyin’ ‘n’ he gots to wheedle some just to git it started. Final straw’s when he’s settin’ to leave Bascomb one aftanoon ‘n’ the durn thing won’t git into nary a gear but one. Coulda found hisself a room ‘n’ git somebody to give it a look next day, but he ain’t gonna skip seein’ Lindy. That poor boy come all that ways back drivin’ in reverse. Got hisself a good head a steam goin’ after that, as you can guess.

Ol’ Flynt done fixed that truck up, just like always, but his boy’s rantin’ night ‘n’ day ‘bout how it ain’t reli’ble. What’s more, he’s a’sayin’ that if’n they was to buy them a bigger truck, they could cut down on trips, ‘n’ if’n they had ‘fridgeration they’d be savin’ on ice. His daddy ain’t too sure ‘bout any a that, but figures maybe it’s high time ‘n’ enough to give his boy some a the decidin,’ sorta make him a man. So he give that boy a big chunk a his savin’s ‘n’ off goes that boy to Bascomb to trade in that ol’ truck.

Oh, Lordy. Somebody shore done seen him a’comin’ ‘n’ got out them fleecin’ shears. This man what sells trucks gits to talkin’ to that Flynt boy ‘bout his gen’ral store what’s bound to come down to him once his daddy done kicks back ‘n’ takes a rest—though how’s he figure that when he got hisself four brothers is anybody’s guess. Guess he don’t mention that part to the truck man. Anyhow, he’s chattin’ in that boy’s ear ‘bout gittin’ him a big ol’ truck can haul enough to only be makin’ one trip a month maybe. That, ‘n’ he’ll throw in a little ‘fridgerator box thingy for downright free. Boy most like wet hisself just lookin’ at that big ol’ thing, but he knowed he ain’t got near enough cash to buy the tires off it, let alone what goes on top. Truck man says no problem, he can set him up on time, ‘n’ he scribbles all these figures down on a sheet a paper ‘n’ shows him how he gonna pay off that truck ‘n’ make a right handsome profit ‘n’ have loads a time to spare.

Now you know, hearin’ just that much a the tale, that he ain’t gonna say no to that. So he scribbles his name where the truck man say to, ‘n’ off he goes in his big ol’ truck. Figures he’s gonna show his daddy just what kinda boon a truck like that gonna be, so he’s off to all the reg’lar places to load up. Thing is, now he know all ‘bout that magic thing called credit, ‘n’ he goes on signin’ his name all over the place. That truck’s got enough to supply twenty towns ‘n’ then some for half a year.

So here he’s a’comin’ down that Pit Road, only it’s full-dark ‘cause he been so long loadin’ everythin’ up. Truck’s so durn big it got a dozen sticks comin’ outa the floor, ‘n’ maybe fifty gears to go choosin’ from. Well might you put your hand over your mouth at that, M’liss, ‘n’ you know it afore I’m sayin’ it. You know he don’t make it ‘round Hairpin. Nope, he just goes rollin’ down that hill, breakin’ off trees ‘n’ gettin’ battered to smithereens. Hardly gits bruised hisself, which were a blessing that ol’ truck man was tellin’ truth ‘bout how hardy that cab was.

Anyhow, after enjoyin’ a cursin’ spell what almost carried him off right then ‘n’ there, ol’ Flynt gits figurin’ they might as well open another gen’ral store. His boy is all for that, gettin’ to manage it all, which is better’n gettin’ his head blowed off or somewhat, or havin’ to haul everthin’ up, both. Lindy’s got herself a head on her shoulders ‘n’ she proves her worth right off gittin’ everthin’ settled. Lotsa folks over that side is right happy havin’ goods closer to home. ‘Course, they was some breakage, ‘n’ they had to buy a new truck, but least that truck man made the boy sign up for insurance.

Ol’ Flynt had a big ol’ party to open up his Hairpin Branch. Folks took them free drinks ‘n’ party favors all right, but they already done dubbed it Truck Stop ‘n’ that’s what it is.