Don't listen to the cliche, this road is paved with asphalt like any other. I can read it like any other, too. Been doing this for years, I know what all the signs say. Not just the road signs, either. More like the, what do you call it, the stuff between the lines. Yeah, subtext. Skidmarks that veer off to the side, someone trying to avoid an accident. Bits of plastic and glass in the ditch, someone else wasn't so lucky. And do you know why there's always only one shoe on the side of the road? Sorry, trucker's secret. Look, see that huge red splotch covering both lanes? That's a bloodstain. Big enough for a moose. I dunno, though... the things I seen on this road, I don't think they're moose.
I used to haul up in Canada, ice roads and stuff. This route is a little further South than I'm used to. But price of oil plummeted, right? And I had some issues of my own, next thing you know I'm not exactly bondable. Friend of a friend hooks me up with these guys- they don't really care about your previous history, employment or otherwise. They do make you sign a, not really a bond, but something like it. Let's just say there's a powerful incentive to deliver your cargo and not fuck off. Nice thing is this job is 100% recession proof. Business even goes up a bit when the economy goes down.
So I just mind my own business, keep my eyes on the road. My cargo, they . . . it's not exactly quiet. That can get a little disturbing. I have buddies who haul cattle around, they say it stinks a bit and the mooing can drive you nuts. I'd gladly take a little friendly moocow compared to uh, the things I hear now. You know, they, um. They beg. Plead. Threaten, even. Try to bribe me. But like I said, I signed a heavy duty contract that makes it pretty easy to ignore my passengers. Uh, cargo. My cargo.
Listen, I gotta go. Uh. Someone in back... something is calling my name. Bobby boo. Bobby boo. Thing is, in my whole entire life, only my mom ever called me that.
- Nathan Waddell