you have any luggage besides your backpack, ma’am?” He pushed a pair of designer glasses up his nose.
I shook my head. “I’m only staying a few days.”
He eyed my orange pack as he came around to open the back door for me. “That’s a weekender model, right? Those are nice. You can fit a whole lot in those with compression packers.”
“Sure can.” I got into the back of the taxi and he shut the door. “I did a whole week in California once with just this and my laptop bag.”
“My name is Alonzo, by the way.” He slid into the driver’s seat and flipped on the cab’s meter. “Where can I take you this afternoon?”
“The Comfort Inn off 178,” I replied.
“Oh, that’s a good place. You get your room online...?”
Alonzo kept up his friendly, low-key chat all the way to the hotel. He was going to college up in Ohio but was staying with an aunt near the airport that summer to earn some money for the upcoming semester. I liked him; I wished I’d known someone like him when I was in high school. Wished I’d been able to know someone like him. As far as my father was concerned, my only friends could be Jesus and his apostles.
At first, it was simultaneously pleasant and painful to hear Alonzo talk about his family: normal, flawed human beings who wrangled and squabbled but ultimately behaved like people who cared about each other. But the fun of living vicariously through strangers always wears off.
So when I felt my hands start to shake in the way I knew would be hard to stop once they really got going, I gently redirected the conversation back to Alonzo’s schooling, and he was more than happy to chatter about that instead.
“... so if it all goes right, I’ll have my degree and be able to get my social worker’s license soon after.”
“And then you’ll be pulling down the big bucks, right?” I joked. My legs jittered behind the passenger seat.
“Right.” He laughed as he pulled into the parking lot of the Comfort Inn. “But I mean, I don’t have kids, so I won’t need much money. I feel like if I can help people, I should, right? I saw some bad stuff growing up, but I had it easier than lots of kids. My daddy always said, society’s only as strong as the weakest links, so ... I want things to be better for everybody, you know?”
“You’re a good guy, Alonzo.”
He laughed again. “I try. I don’t always make it to church, you know? My aunt gets after me about that.”
Alonzo totaled up my taxi ride, and I paid him in cash. He brightened considerably when he saw the tip.
“Hey, thanks. Do you think you’ll need a ride anywhere later?” he asked.
“Yes. Could you come back around 6pm?”
Alonzo got me to the gate in front of my father’s property just before dusk. My hands trembled the entire ride out, but I did my best to keep him from seeing my fear.
He squinted uncertainly at the rusty chain link gate and the rutted gravel road that seemed to disappear into a gloom of pine trees and kudzu. “You sure this is where you need to be?”
“Very sure.” I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and handed him the cash I owed him for the ride. I tried to do it quickly so he wouldn’t see that I was shaking so badly.
But he saw, and he looked at me, concerned, as he took the bills. “Are you really sure you want to be here?”
I forced myself to smile. “I’m not planning to stay, so I’ll call you when I’m done here, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be on duty until midnight.”
I got out of the cab, waved to Alonzo, and pushed open the gate. It was in desperate need of oil. Back in the woods to my left I could see a cell phone tower, the kind that was made to look like a pine tree. It had to be just inside the neighbor’s property; my father would never let someone build a transmitter on his land. When I was little, I’d heard him rant about demons traveling into people’s souls through radio signals. If the local AM country station was a
I shook my head. “I’m only staying a few days.”
He eyed my orange pack as he came around to open the back door for me. “That’s a weekender model, right? Those are nice. You can fit a whole lot in those with compression packers.”
“Sure can.” I got into the back of the taxi and he shut the door. “I did a whole week in California once with just this and my laptop bag.”
“My name is Alonzo, by the way.” He slid into the driver’s seat and flipped on the cab’s meter. “Where can I take you this afternoon?”
“The Comfort Inn off 178,” I replied.
“Oh, that’s a good place. You get your room online...?”
Alonzo kept up his friendly, low-key chat all the way to the hotel. He was going to college up in Ohio but was staying with an aunt near the airport that summer to earn some money for the upcoming semester. I liked him; I wished I’d known someone like him when I was in high school. Wished I’d been able to know someone like him. As far as my father was concerned, my only friends could be Jesus and his apostles.
At first, it was simultaneously pleasant and painful to hear Alonzo talk about his family: normal, flawed human beings who wrangled and squabbled but ultimately behaved like people who cared about each other. But the fun of living vicariously through strangers always wears off.
So when I felt my hands start to shake in the way I knew would be hard to stop once they really got going, I gently redirected the conversation back to Alonzo’s schooling, and he was more than happy to chatter about that instead.
“... so if it all goes right, I’ll have my degree and be able to get my social worker’s license soon after.”
“And then you’ll be pulling down the big bucks, right?” I joked. My legs jittered behind the passenger seat.
“Right.” He laughed as he pulled into the parking lot of the Comfort Inn. “But I mean, I don’t have kids, so I won’t need much money. I feel like if I can help people, I should, right? I saw some bad stuff growing up, but I had it easier than lots of kids. My daddy always said, society’s only as strong as the weakest links, so ... I want things to be better for everybody, you know?”
“You’re a good guy, Alonzo.”
He laughed again. “I try. I don’t always make it to church, you know? My aunt gets after me about that.”
Alonzo totaled up my taxi ride, and I paid him in cash. He brightened considerably when he saw the tip.
“Hey, thanks. Do you think you’ll need a ride anywhere later?” he asked.
“Yes. Could you come back around 6pm?”
Alonzo got me to the gate in front of my father’s property just before dusk. My hands trembled the entire ride out, but I did my best to keep him from seeing my fear.
He squinted uncertainly at the rusty chain link gate and the rutted gravel road that seemed to disappear into a gloom of pine trees and kudzu. “You sure this is where you need to be?”
“Very sure.” I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and handed him the cash I owed him for the ride. I tried to do it quickly so he wouldn’t see that I was shaking so badly.
But he saw, and he looked at me, concerned, as he took the bills. “Are you really sure you want to be here?”
I forced myself to smile. “I’m not planning to stay, so I’ll call you when I’m done here, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be on duty until midnight.”
I got out of the cab, waved to Alonzo, and pushed open the gate. It was in desperate need of oil. Back in the woods to my left I could see a cell phone tower, the kind that was made to look like a pine tree. It had to be just inside the neighbor’s property; my father would never let someone build a transmitter on his land. When I was little, I’d heard him rant about demons traveling into people’s souls through radio signals. If the local AM country station was a
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