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“Quit worrying.”
The line moved up and the men placed their order. Then it was Bob’s turn.
Bob walked back to the truck, puzzling over the overheard conversation. Didn’t sound legal to me ... whatever it was, he mused. Maybe moving some hot merchandise? Back in the truck, he relaxed and enjoyed his lunch, surprised and pleased the coffee was better than expected.
His initial nervousness and uncertainty about pulling up roots in his fifties and leaving home had abated considerably since early morning. He looked forward to the trip, anxious to see things he had only heard of or visited vicariously through the TV. His whole life had been lived in or near the city of Lowell, and he had only dreams of distant places. The phone call from his cousin in Montana convinced him that he would be welcome at the guest ranch his cousin called home. He’d stop there first, he decided.
There was mostly mundane chatter by truck drivers on the CB radio as he went across Massachusetts. Bob kept the radio on channel 19, hoping to get an early warning from truckers about the presence of police cruisers, detours, and road hazards. Comfortably sipping his coffee, he became aware of a loud nearby signal screaming over the chatter.
“Fred, got your ears on? Leo here. Come back.”
“Hey Leo, loud and clear. Must be close.”
“Comin’ up on your six. Gotcha in sight. Got company?”
“Nah, all alone,” Fred responded. “What’s up with you? Can you move up 4 and set it on low-power? Lots of interference on this channel.”
“Roger. Movin’ up now.”
Suddenly there was only the cacophony of background signals. Fred and Leo were gone. Huh? Movin’ up? What did that mean? Then he thought of something he had heard earlier and, on a hunch, reached for the channel selector. He turned it from 19 to 23, and resumed listening.
“… heading for Rockford, then points west,” said Leo.
“Fred, you still on track for ah … Lawndale?”
“Roger that. Talked to the man earlier on the landline. It’s all set.”
“Great. I’ll be comin’ in behind you. The man doesn’t want stuff lying around … got to move it.”
“Understood,” said Fred. “Hey, you runnin’ empty?”
“Picked up half a load this morning, but plenty of room for, ah, anything else.”
“We’ll get together for a cold one on my way back, Leo.”
“10-4. See you then.”
The radio went silent. Bob set the channel selector back to 19, but there was just the usual humdrum chatter. What the hell was that all about? Second time I heard about Rockford in the last half hour. He checked channel 23 again, nothing, and turned it back to 19. Bob kept playing the conversation over and over in his head.
~~~
Fred Bucari had waited until the swing-shift left at midnight, leaving him and Al Salerno, the shift boss, alone to load the extra pallets of automotive components into the available trailer space. There was usually a mystery load going somewhere, Fred mused; items Al had secreted in the warehouse from skimming certain high value shipments. He didn’t know how Al accounted for the losses and he just as soon not be told. The less I know the better, he thought.
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