10-24 (verb): completed last assignment.

Ex.: In late November, you were somewhere in Michigan, maybe near Motor City or maybe not. You backed into the dock and got out to hand over the paperwork. You didn’t make it to the office, it all happened so fast. You weren’t the first driver to have a heart attack and you likely wouldn’t be the last, but you were only the second one I’d known. The first was one of our only reliable drivers from when you owned your own trucking company. His name was Tony, he was twenty-nine, had a heart condition and a high-maintenance girlfriend that had him constantly on the road to make money for her to spend. He was driving in a convoy when it happened and pulled off to the shoulder. You were already at the delivery, just had to turn in the paperwork to the office. At least you were able to say ‘10-24’, whatever comfort or sense of pride that provides.

10-38 (noun): ambulance needed at…

Ex.: I wasn’t there, but I saw the bill for it. I don’t know who called ‘10-38’ or how long it was before they saw you or how long it took the ambulance to get there. I just know that one was called and it took you to the hospital, but it didn’t do any good.

10-42 (noun): traffic accident at…

Ex.: We’re no strangers to 10-42 calls, but the most shocking was the one that involved you. The van jumped the median, went airborne briefly, hit your truck—a sickening crunch of metal on metal, I expect—and then went on to hit the car behind you. The impact forced you off the road and totaled your truck, but you made it out with just a few aches, pains, and a scraped-up shin. I still find it funny that your first thought was to pause your Zune so you wouldn’t lose your place in the audiobook you were listening to.

Anklebiter (noun): a small child or particularly immature teenager or adult.

Anklebiting (verb, rare): to whine in a manner similar to that of a child

Ex.: I wonder how many times you wanted to tell me to just shut up and quit anklebiting. I wasn’t an anklebiter anymore, but it pains me to admit that I could bite with the best of them. You only said it once to my face in harsher words than I was used to hearing from you and that led to resentment, isolation, internalization. I never told you, but I’m sure you knew.

Bear bite (noun): a speeding ticket. See also: driving award.

Feeding the bears (verb): paying speeding tickets and fines.

Ex.: The bear bite you got in Arizona infuriated me. It was over three hundred dollars! Do you know what we could have bought with that money? We could have paid a couple bills or put that toward the house payment or toward repairing your Cadillac. Instead, the money fed the bears because you won a driving award for going 75 when the normal truck speed is double nickel (55). After hearing from Mom the reason you were speeding, I was still furious, though the anger transitioned from you to your brother. He knows you have PTSD and, even if he didn’t, he should’ve listened to you when you told him to stop playing with the window. He’s sixty-two, not two, but he could’ve fooled me with the way he acts.

Home 20 (noun): a driver’s home location

Ex.: For a little while, in the immediate aftermath, there was talk of moving to Missouri on the other side of The Gateway so we’d be closer to Mom’s side of the family since you were the only reason we stayed and now you were gone. Then we decided not to move to Missouri since Mom loved her new job, but we still needed to move to a smaller house. It was only recently that it became possible for us to stay in our house, the house I grew up in that holds all my memories of you. There’s fresh paint on the walls and hardwood floors throughout like Mom always wanted. Over Thanksgiving break, Mom and I will pick out area rugs and runners for the hallway. Things have changed in it, the most significant change being your permanent absence, but it’s still our home 20.