Dorsai - Taxi

Following that, I heard her say something lengthy in Arabic; when she was done, I asked "What did you say?"

"I said that you are a good man – kind and wise and patient and loving, and asked whoever is in charge of the universe to watch out for you; that the people down here needed you."

I was so touched by what she'd done that I simply couldn't think of anything to say; the best I could manage in response was to kiss the palm of her hand again before simply telling her "Thank you, Saleh. It means a lot to me that you would do that."

Several minutes later, I told her "If I could, I would stay with you like this all day; but I think that you want to go and see your family. If you want to take a shower with me, we can get some breakfast and find out when your train home leaves, and I'll get you to the station. Or, if it would be easier for you, I can just leave now."

She hugged me before answering "No, Jim, I don't want you to leave yet. I would be delighted to take a shower with you."

A few moments went by before we both got out of bed by mutual accord. Thinking that she might want a little time alone in the bathroom, I suggested she go ahead after saying there was something I had to do. When I knocked on the bathroom door a few minutes later, she let me know that it was okay to come in.

Our shower was as fun and playful as the one we'd shared the night before, if also bittersweet. After we'd dried off, she wasn't the least bit bashful about letting me watch as she got dressed; when she was done, and asked me how she looked, she was tolerant and amused when I took her into my arms and kissed her while caressing as much of her as I could reach before announcing that she looked wonderful.

Breakfast was her treat at her insistence; after we'd eaten, she used the pay phone to find out when the next train was that would get her home before calling her family and letting them know when she'd arrive. The departure time wasn't for another hour, so we stayed in the cafe and had another cup of coffee before heading for the station.

Once she had her ticket and checked her bags in, the two of us moved to a quiet area off to the side to say our goodbyes. I could see tears in her eyes as she told me "I know how lucky I was that we got into your cab yesterday. Because of you, I don't have to be afraid any more – of being beaten, or abused, or any of the other horrible things that happened to me before. I can't thank you enough, and I know that I could never repay you for all the good things that you'd done for me."

Looking into her beautiful eyes, I told her "If I have done good things for you, then it is because you deserved them, just for being who you are. If I have made your life happier, then you have made my life richer for having known you. You said that I will always be in your heart and in your mind; know that you will be in MINE, too. What we have felt for each other is love, and I will carry my love for you with me forever. I will never forget you, and whenever I think of you, it will be with the love that we have known. You go home now to your family, and that is right. You will find the man that you can share your life with, and be happy, and that is right, too; it will comfort me greatly to know that these things will happen. When my time has ended, and my spirit goes to see whoever is in charge of the universe, I will be able to tell him 'I have been loved by Saleh', and that will be all I need."

By the time I finished, she was openly crying; cupping her face in my hands, I used my thumbs to brush away her tears before leaning in to give her a soft, loving kiss on the lips – one that she readily returned. When we pulled apart, I saw that she was trying, valiantly, to smile. As much as it hurt me to, I told her "Goodbye, Saleh" and turned to leave. I heard her say goodbye in return, but I didn't turn around to look at her as I continued on my way out of the station.

I never saw, or heard from, Saleh again. But to this day, I can close my eyes and see her, and the love I felt for her comes flowing into me. I do take consolation in knowing that she has undoubtedly gone on to live a life that is much better than the one she had – but that doesn't really do anything about the hole she left in my heart.

I've been a cabbie for a number of years, and have certainly had my share of experiences. Some of them happened as a direct result of my driving a hack; others not so much…

One of the things about driving cabs is that there isn't a lot of exercise involved. I mean, think about it – when I'm doing what I'm paid to do, I basically just sit on my ass all day.

One of consequences of driving a cab is that if you do it for very long, you run the risk of putting on weight; there are a few guys that just don't give a shit, and that's pretty much what they look like – big, blubbery, overweight lumps sitting behind the wheel. There are a few that are genetically blessed with metabolisms that keep them thin; me, I don't have that benefit, so I decided that I'd better do something to keep myself more-or-less in shape. I also figured that it wouldn't hurt to learn how to defend myself at least a little bit, so I signed up to start taking karate from a place that was just a couple of doors down from the extended-hours gym I signed up with. I wasn't specifically looking to take karate; if it had been any other kind of self-defense place like judo or boxing, I'd likely have still ended up there.

The thing was that it was a small enough dojo… Japanese for "school"… that there weren't all that many students cycling through the place. As a matter of fact, in the month after I joined, only 3 others started there, too; a couple of kids that I figured were probably in middle school, and a woman that looked like she was maybe in her early 30's. It didn't take long before it was clear that the two kids both went to the same school, and were almost certainly friends outside of class. Since they tried to get teamed up together whenever there was any kind of sparring or one-on-one practice, that pretty much left me and the woman as partners – almost everyone else in the place was at least one belt higher than us.

She was attractive, with butter-blond hair a bit over shoulder-length, lovely blue eyes, and a nice figure (in street clothes; in a karate gi [uniform] she was pretty shapeless). She didn't come up but to about chest-high on me, so when we first started practicing together, I tended to try and take it easy on her. But she was a lot more interested in karate (as self defense) than I was, and it didn't take me long to get cured of any such gallantry – if I let myself get distracted by her looks, she wasn't above trying to take my head off or breaking some internal organ that I was still using. What with the padding we wore on our heads, hands, and feet, I finally realized that my chances of actually hurting her were pretty slim, and started trying to do unto her before she could do unto me. When I'd connect with a good one, she'd just get fired up and come right back at me – and likely as not pay me back, with interest.

Naturally enough, there was time for us to learn at least a little bit about each other. Over the course of a few weeks, I learned her name was Bonnie, she was divorced, and shared custody of her ten-year-old daughter with her ex-husband. Though she never said anything about him directly, I was left with the distinct impression that she welcomed the divorce and wouldn't willingly have anything to do with him if it weren't for the kid. She let me buy her a cup of coffee a couple of times after classes, and even celebrate her first promotion with ice cream, but that was pretty much it – she made it more than clear that she wasn't looking to get into another relationship any time soon.