Words in (italics and parentheses) are CB terminology translations.
“Breaker one nine (channel 19, the trucker’s channel), what’s your handle (nickname)?” a voice echoed over the CB (citizen band) radio.
“Gatekeeper, who is this? Come on (reply)?” he answered and asked the trucker while manipulating his eighteen-wheeler semi.
“Halo. We have a commercial company (prostitute) up ahead but drive double-nickels (55 speed limit) and not triple digits (100) because you have a local yokel (county sheriff) coming up your back door (in your rear-view).“
“What is that to you, and how do you know my 10-20 (location),” Gatekeeper asked, at a loss and thirsty for an explanation, as he slowed down, allowing the lawman to pass him.
Halo explained he was the young woman’s guardian angel to save her from further impending doom. “I was a big rig trucker and died when I lost control of my semi while trying to avoid a drunk driver. That is why I chose this form of communication. Hang a right, and she should be at your front door (ahead of you).“
Gatekeeper searched the cab ceiling, questioning his sanity, and slowed to a stop. He spotted a young woman lying in dirt with a torn top, soiled mini skirt, and lost in a frozen gaze out into nothingness. Halo drew open the passenger door and waited for her to respond.
“Go away,” she blurted, waving him away. Her awkward momentum almost landed her face first in the dirt.
Gatekeeper waited a minute, and realizing she wasn’t going to move, he let out a blare of his horn that sobered her up enough to get on her feet. She responded by throwing her pocketbook at him that landed in his lap. He huffed and drew on his patience, taking the time to go through her effects and noticed from her ID that she lived in LA. He proposed a bluff, closed the passenger door, and inched away until he heard her banging on the side of the big rig. He stopped, and she climbed into the truck. “Heading towards LA,” Gatekeeper announced.
“I’m too tired to turn tricks,” she resigned and let her head sink to the door window. It was about 100 miles to LA, so Gatekeeper let her rest for a while.
“Gatekeeper. Motor on to the City of Angels but eyeball the bear in the air (notice the sheriff in the chopper).“
“But, we have you, the eye in the sky,” sang Gatekeeper.
“Eye in the sky? Who’s that?” rustled the woman.
“That is Halo, his CB handle, and your… uh, don’t pay him any mind,” Gatekeeper responded.
“Gatekeeper, ask Raquel, your passenger, why she gave up singing with her beautiful gift of voice?”
“Huh, how did Halo know my name?” Raquel slurred.
Gatekeeper’s face wrinkled in instant thought, trying to deflect the question into a different conversation.
“Gatekeeper, kindly volunteer the young lady to sing a song that could unite birds of many feathers.”
Gatekeeper asked Raquel to grace the CBers with a song, any song. The woman’s face drooped, fighting the effects of an oncoming hangover.
“Gatekeeper. How about ‘You Light Up My Life,’” queried Halo over the CB. “An oldie but goodie.”
Raquel eyes shot open to recall the many times her mom sang that song to her and practiced before her recital. She sniffed away emerging tears and blinked, intermittently trying to gain more of her senses. “How does Halo know my name and that song?”
No words were transmitted between the two CBers until Raquel broke the eerie silence. “I want a CB handle.”
Gatekeeper side-eyed Raquel without a clue of a tag.
“Gatekeeper, how about we lay the handle on the young woman, Vofana?”
“Vofana?” Gatekeeper and Raquel uttered in unison.
“Vofana…voice of an angel,” Halo echoed.
Raquel’s eyes widened the size of half-dollars. Voice of an angel was a label tagged on her the moment she first sang a song when she was just a child. Memories spiraled in her head of all the wonderful memories of her and her mom before she reached an age of rebellion, peer pressure, and a frenetic escape from innocence.
“Breaker Vofana. One song. Heaven knows I don’t have the voice of an angel,” urged Halo, with an accompanying snicker from Gatekeeper.
Raquel’s lips pursed, volleying the request before nodding her assent.
Gatekeeper opened up the channel for all CBers within range to hear and nudged her to begin.
Raquel’s voice cracked the first few lyrics before seamlessly transitioning into a beautiful melody. Her rendition of “You Light Up My Life” lit up the airwaves as the stars beyond the windshield seemed to twinkle with each chorus. She finished teary-eyed as Gatekeeper gently grabbed her hand in comfort. Compliments ruled the transmissions over the CB as Raquel greeted the verbal applause with a thankful smile.
“Arizona. My mom lives in Arizona. I want to go home,” Raquel whispered, letting her head rest on Gatekeeper’s shoulder.
“Gatekeeper. Request a U-Turn to the Valley of the Sun. The big road (interstate) is free of bears (law enforcement), so put the hammer down (drive fast) and reunite our friend with her mom. Over and out.”
~ Jon Moray