The Voice

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Years ago, late at night, when trucking through east Kentucky, I came upon a detour. The detour took me off on a county road. It was narrow and started up a mountain right away. Climbing the mountain I ran into dense fog and couldn't see anything, I mean nothing. I could tell by the sound of the motor I had reached the top. I got on the CB radio and said I was on the detour and at a standstill south bound on top of the mountain. I said I can't see anything and I don't know the road. A crackle of static and a voice came over the CB. The voice said to put it in low gear and don't go faster than fifteen miles per hour and follow my directions. The voice told me when to turn the wheel how much to turn the wheel and what direction to turn the wheel. The voice got me through the fog and off the mountain.

I didn't see any tail lights ahead of me or headlights behind me. I got on the CB and said thanks for getting me off the mountain, I asked where are you, no answer. I asked again, where are you. Silence.

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