The rules of the road, p.1
The Rules of the Road, page 1
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
THE RULES OF THE ROAD
Copyright © 2021, text by C.B. Jones
All rights reserved, except for brief quotations. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without
written permission from the publisher: Ionosphere Press, saintlonesome@gmail.com
Published 2021 by Ionosphere Press
Cover design by Kyle Goldtooth.
Formatting by Alex Wolfgang.
ISBN: 978-1-7374886-0-6
First edition: August 2021
Contents
1. “Station Identification”
2. “Operator”
3. “Carry On Wayward Son”
4. “Alone”
5. “What’s Your Name?”
6. “Southern Accents”
7. “Time After Time”
8. “Tuesday’s Gone”
9. “Call Me”
10. “Cold as Ice”
11. “Landslide”
12. “Left of the Dial”
13. “Losing My Religion”
14. “Thunder Road”
15. “Greatest Hits”
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
For my wife
Many consumer and industrial products and applications make use of some form of electromagnetic energy. One type of electromagnetic energy that is of increasing importance worldwide is radiofrequency energy, including radio waves . . . There are many published reports in the scientific literature concerning possible biological effects resulting from animal or human exposure to radiofrequency energy.
* * *
- from “Questions and Answers about Biological Effects and Potential Hazards of Radiofrequency Electromagnetic Fields”, FCC OET Bulletin, 1999
1
“Station Identification”
I was in the middle of the country when I first heard the radio program. The halfway point, more or less.
Later, I’d wonder if it was even real. Like if the whole thing had been some sort of auditory hallucination, the side effects of sleep deprivation and too much caffeine.
Yet miles down the road, fear took hold and I decided there was too much riding on the outcome to blow it off.
I was coming out of North Platte, Nebraska, when I heard it. Driving across barren plains and trying to make Denver before midnight, I was making pretty good time. My destination was my friends’ house in Aurora. I hoped to get a good night’s rest before we set off for the slopes the next day.
I was listening to a rerun of Car Talk on NPR. I had been on the road for ten hours straight at that point, and the Car Talk guys’ thick accents and wheezing laughs were the only thing keeping me awake.
The signal was clear when suddenly there was a wash of static and laughter, a different kind of laughter than the Bostonian cackles of the Magliozzi brothers. It was higher and more feminine, but androgynous at the same time. It almost sounded like it came from within the car itself. Then, the static washed away and some light, tinkly music came on. A voice started talking. It was the voice of a cheery old man with a twangy accent. Below is the transcript as I heard it on that spooky and unsettling night.
* * *
Howdy folks, I’m Buck Hensley, and these are “The Rules of the Road.” Tonight, we come to you with an answer to an age-old question that has perplexed many of y’all out there. Why is it that when you’re driving on some highway or busy interstate, you sometimes look out at the shoulder and see a single, solitary shoe? How did it get there? Where is its owner? Why is it only one shoe? We'll try to answer that, but once you learn this rule, you may never look at a single shoe on the side of the road the same way again. In fact, it would be downright deadly not to!
So, here is tonight's rule: if at any point during your journey you see a single shoe on the side of the road all by its lonesome, then you must pull over immediately. What's that? You say you're in the far lane and spot the shoe and there's a lot of traffic and you can't cross over? Tough titty! You must find a way to that shoe or else, even if you have to turn around.
Once you are pulled over, make sure it is safe for you to exit your vehicle. How tragic and hilarious would it be for you to start out with the good intention of following this vital and important rule, only to be splattered on the interstate by the front tires and bumper of an inattentive driver? How your teeth would scatter on the concrete and glint under the moonlight.
So, you've arrived at the shoe, and the scene is safe and secure? This part is relatively easy. All you need to do is get out and remove one of your socks and place it in the shoe, get back in your car and leave. If you don't have a sock with you, then you better find one. Now, I've made that sound extremely easy and most times it is really that simple, but sometimes the shoe's owner is nearby, and he might give you a good ol' fright.
I can't say that I rightly know this fella's name, but he only has one leg. And I don't mean he's some sort of amputee or anything like that. I mean he is a man of sturdy build and that he has a normal torso and arms and hips, but his pelvis tapers off into just the one leg at the dead center of his body. A thigh as thick as a tree stump. He gets around by hopping on the one leg, and he has a ten or fifteen foot standing broad jump. Sometimes when the leg is tired, he pulls himself along with his arms, dragging his leg behind him. He looks downright dirty and mean, clothes all ragged and worn. You can usually see him at the treeline or in the brush or down in the ditch, waiting for you. He might approach you; it depends on what mood he's in. Just give him a nod, tuck your sock in his shoe, and leave.
Now I hope my folksy demeanor doesn't undermine the gravity of this rule. What happens if you ignore this rule? Well, something bad will happen, that’s what. This is not a joke and ignore this at your own peril, but if you don't follow this rule, the next bridge you drive over will collapse either due to a construction failure or some other arbitrary reason, sending you and your vehicle into the water below. This will always result in your untimely death, no matter how good a swimmer you are.
Hope y'all are having a good one out there. Stay alert. Stay lively. Stay lonely. Once again, I'm Buck Hensley and these are "The Rules of the Road".
* * *
From there a loud burst of static occurred, followed by an extremely high-pitched whine, so loud that it was painful, and I had to shut off the stereo. I drove in silence for some time, trying to laugh nervously at the message I had just heard. At first, I thought it was some sort of joke, an audio sketch show recorded by some locals and inserted into the broadcast accidentally or as a goof. It had to be a sketch, right? Some sort of surreal dark comedy or something.
Yet, I found myself slowing down to 60 mph, driving in the right-hand lane and scanning the shoulder for missing shoes. My heart was pounding, and my palms were sweaty on the steering wheel.
What if I missed one?
Were there any bridges between here and Aurora? Any major rivers?
I told myself to quit being ridiculous, but it was no use. I drove 60 mph the whole way to Aurora and added an hour to my total drive time. My eyes were wide and watering, begging for me to shut my lids.
It wasn’t until I pulled off the I-225 exit and was coming down the ramp that I calmed down. The fatigue and sleepiness hit me like a freight train and as I made the turn onto 6th, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it: a single shoe, sitting on the side of the road, sole facing up and laces splayed out. I slammed on my brakes.
You’re insane, I told myself.
It was cold out there. I didn’t even bother to put on my coat. The traffic was dead, a bad part of town. A black garbage bag and some trash clung to an overgrown patch of prairie grass and weeds. A car came in the other direction. There was a convenience store off in the distance. I approached the shoe and flipped it over. A basic black canvas low top, a Converse rip-off. I looked around to see if anyone was watching. There was a guy in a heavy brown coat and a low-slung baseball cap sitting against the wall of the convenience store. I couldn’t tell how many legs he had. Another car came down the ramp toward me, headlights shining. I probably was going to look crazy, but I pulled off my right shoe, peeled my sock off and tucked it into the shoe.
From the garbage bag, I heard a rustle and the rattling of aluminum cans. A hand shot out from underneath, buried its fingers into the dirt and pulled a body forward from underneath the garbage bag, a face suddenly appearing and looking at me, yellowed eyes and a mouth full of awful teeth. I screamed and darted back to my car and never looked back.
There were three bridge incidents that year throughout the US. Seventeen deaths. One was an overpass at rush hour, a structural integrity issue. Another incident involved a riverboat barge that crashed into the pylon supporting a hundred-foot interstate bridge and several cars and a semi plunged into the Arkansas River below.
You had to wonder.
I carry a pack of socks with me when I’m out on the road and constantly look for shoes. I always follow the rules to a T and take off the sock I’m wearing, just in case. He hasn't reappeared at any of the shoes I’ve stopped at.
Everyone thought I was crazy, but nothing bad ever happened to me as long as I followed the rule. I wasn’t going to tempt fate and find out what would happen if I didn’t.
Have you heard “The Rules of the Road?”
That was the name of the website I started several months after hearing the program. That question with all the words smushed together and a blogspot.com after, or something like that. It’s probably still up there if you look hard enough. You know what they say about stuff posted on the internet.
Before the website, hours were spent on the dark corners of the internet. I stalked message boards for paranormal encounters, UFO and bigfoot sightings, cryptids and astral projections. There were emails exchanged with individuals both credible and deceitful, rambling and succinct. Liars and lunatics, skeptics and schizophrenics.
I never claimed to be an expert or journalist, but that’s the role I fell into. Two and a half years into college as a journalism major before dropping out, I was a little more prepared than most, maybe a little less amateur. Despite all of that, however, my credentials were little more than a night clerk at 7-11.
I didn’t want to end up like any of those weirdoes, though. And despite the steadfast belief in my own experience, I oftentimes viewed myself as above it all, an objective observer.
I must admit that there were various times that I thought I was losing my mind, that I was simply becoming another online conspiracy theorist. Or worse and somehow even more paranoid, that someone out there was orchestrating this whole ruse on me for a big joke.
Through my online investigations, I discovered that others had experienced it too. Common threads between occurrences were that listeners heard the broadcast while driving alone and that it seemed to occur more often on the AM band. Out of everyone that was interviewed, all had followed the instructions that were broadcast on the short program.
If only I had found someone that hadn’t.
That blog post was just me putting out a beacon for whoever to find. I had to know I wasn’t alone. I needed to know I wasn’t the only one.
Well.
I wasn’t.
It wasn’t long before I discovered there were different versions of the mysterious broadcast. I had initially believed that there was only the strange and singular episode and that it was the same for each listener. However, a new individual contacted me and discussed his experience. It differed completely from what we all had encountered before.
2
“Operator”
Brandon was a guy in his twenties who currently lived in Sacramento. He spoke with me over the phone about how he had heard the broadcast and how it had affected him. There were the same common denominators: he was alone in his car, it was late at night, and he had been driving for hours when he encountered the program.
* * *
There’s not really a whole lot of backstory. I was driving home from my buddy’s bachelor party in Tahoe, a low-key thing at this swanky cabin he had rented for the weekend. Bunch of us guys, a lot of boozing, a little hiking, some catching up.
Anyways, I was driving home, it was late at night, and I was listening to the radio. Even with all the technology available at our fingertips, I still like to listen to it from time to time. I don’t mind the commercials and I like the random nature of it. It seems more real, y’know? That, and my data plan kinda sucks and I’m trying to cut costs where I can.
The good thing about the radio is you can always find a Tom Petty song out there if you look hard enough. That’s what I had found, when out of nowhere, there was this burst of static. It was unlike anything I’d ever heard, almost musical. It was so mesmerizing that I didn’t bother changing the station. Then this voice started talking.
* * *
Howdy folks, Buck Hensley here with more “Rules of the Road”. Hope y'all are doing well out there and that you’re nice and cozy in your big trucks and SUVs as the cold night whizzes past. I hope your seat warmer starts working again. Nothing like a nice, warm ass on a cold winter’s night. I really miss my wife and cuddling up next to hers, how I would call in sick to work some days just to spend those few extra hours in bed with her, how I often wanted to live in that half-awake moment with her forever, but nothing lasts, and I can’t get back there . . .
* * *
At this point, I laughed at the surreal hilarity of the radio program that had preempted the song I was listening to. However, I was a little unnerved by a single detail within the opening monologue: the seat warmer in my Jeep was broken. I listened on, transfixed.
* * *
Whoops! Sorry, got a little off track there. Anyways, on to tonight’s rule. If at any point in your journey you get a call from an unknown number, then you must answer your phone. You must take that call. Don’t ignore it, don’t screen it and don’t wait for it to go to voicemail thinking that you might call it back, because you won’t be able to. It is imperative that you pick up.
Now I know what you’re thinking, and I know what you’re gonna say. You’re gonna say, “Bucky, what if it’s another one of them goddang robocallers? I get those all the time and I ignore them and they’re just the biggest waste of time and I’ve been waiting for a callback on an interview, and I’ve been answering unknown numbers and I get those calls warning me about my vehicle’s warranty expiring and it’s a scam and they just make me so darn mad I could just scream. Like hell am I gonna answer another one of those calls!”
And to that I say, fair enough. I get why you're so upset. Those calls get me hot under the collar, too. Why do they call them robocallers, anyways? Is there a robot on the other end dialing away with his little metal robot fingers? Bleep-bloop-bleep. But I digress . . .
* * *
I wished I had a passenger in the car with me. Y’know, someone to exchange confused and amused looks with, someone to ask, “Are you hearing this shit? Google this and see what it is.”
* * *
So, the first thing you must do is to answer the call. Make sure your phone is on loud. Make sure you hear the ring. Because if you miss it, that is no bueno. Once you answer, you might hear that dead air and clicking you get on your usual telemarketer call. You might hear some strange noises. You might hear something that is downright spooky. Just hang on a second and wait for the voice, a nice pleasing monotone woman’s voice asking you your name. I like to call her Carla. She will ask you your name. State your given name. Carla will respond that there has been some unusual activity on your “Card Account” and that she needs the number on your credit or debit card to further research the activity and put a stop to it. This will sound sketchy as hell to you, and you will probably feel the urge to hang up and tell her to “buzz off”, but if you do, then you will miss your chance.
Once you give her your card information, do not fret. The folks on the other end of the line ain’t gonna clean you out. They are really looking out for you and have your best interest at heart. The most you will see is a dollar or two here and there pulled out of your account every month. It will show up on your bank statements. That’s like a cup of coffee a month you’re missing out on, but it’s totally worth it. What’s the value of a dollar? That might be the most valuable dollar of your life!
Okay. So, you say to heck with all of this? Well, let me tell you what will happen. As far as punishments go, with this one you might actually have a fighting chance and it actually makes quite a good PSA for safe driving. From then on, after receiving the call, whether you’ve answered and didn’t give your number or ignored it all together, the next time you pick up your phone while driving it will result in a deadly motor vehicle collision.
It doesn’t matter if you’re on America’s loneliest highway without another vehicle for miles, I’m telling you: DO NOT PICK UP THAT PHONE. Do not text. Do not make a call. Do not adjust your Spotty-fi playlist. Let that hunk of plastic and copper and platinum and gold and terbium lie. Turn it off and throw it in the backseat if you have to.
