massive body moving toward me.
“Jonny,” he said.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked. “Why didn’t you send someone else?”
“The boys are busy. This is our peak time, you know. Parking on the streets without residential permits, leaving cars in the parking lots of malls, the usual stuff.”
“Who’s watching the business?”
“Marcie.”
“She’s back?” I asked.
“Yeah, I couldn’t run the place without her. I begged her and gave her a raise.”
“That’s too bad,” I said. “I was looking forward to opening my very own impound with her.”
“You know what? I like the coupon idea you had,” he said. “It would build customer loyalty and stuff. Anyways, you hit a taxi?”
“No. The taxi hit the recycling bin.”
“So what did you hit?”
“The recycling bin.”
“Both the taxi and you hit the recycling bin?’
“No. Only the taxi hit the recycling bin.”
He shook his head violently. “Okay, what were you driving?”
“The taxi.”
“What?” he said. “What’re you doing driving a taxi?”
“It’s a long story. You gonna tow or what?”
“I’ll tow,” he said getting down to business. “Just because you’re a loyal customer. No questions asked.”
“So how many tows have I got?” I inquired.
“Why?”
“This one could be free.”
Joe had taken the taxi to a mechanic he knew. I was going to cover the costs, of course, but that was not the problem. How was I going to tell Mahmud? He trusted me and I’d let him down.
Maybe I could deny it.
What taxi? I never borrowed any taxi? I don’t even have a license to operate one, must be someone else?
No. I couldn’t do that.
Mahmud was a good person, a decent person. I didn’t know how I was going to tell him what had happened. This might even end our fragile relationship.
I got off and waited at the spot we had decided to meet. I looked at my watch and was surprised to see it was almost eleven. I paced back and forth, thinking of what to do next. Four long minutes later I saw Mahmud turn the corner and walk briskly towards me.
“Mahmud,” I said. “Buddy, pal, how are you doing?”
“Good, Officer Rupret, how about you?” he said smiling. His eyes darted behind me, searching. “Where is the taxi?”
I scratched my head. “Well, Mahmud…maybe you should sit down.”
He looked around. We were in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Standing might be better.” I took a step back. I said, “Mahmud, something happened to your taxi.”
His smile faded.
“There is a large dent on the right side.”
He nodded, slowly.
“But I’m going to pay for the repair.” I didn’t know how much was in that thick envelope Sergeant Motley gave me, but it would help.
There was a pause and then he finally said, “You are okay?”
“Yeah, couldn’t be better,” I shrugged.
“You hit another car?” he asked.
“No, recycling bin.”
“Recycling bin?” He paused. “But recycling bin is on the sidewalk.”
“Yeah, well, I kind of…you have to realize there was this kid with these big headphones walking down the street and to avoid hitting him I swerved…”
He nodded, trying hard to digest what I was saying.
“Mahmud, I’m really sorry,” I said.
Mahmud looked hurt. I understood. It was his only means of making a living.
His eyes narrowed as if thinking. He then moved his hand through his matted hair. He looked at me and then his eyes moved to the top of my head.
I pulled off the Blue Jays cap and handed it to him.
He put it on and then looked at the ground. “Maybe I made a mistake,” he said.
“I know. You shouldn’t have trusted me.”
He smiled. “I made a mistake of not running taxi over you before.”
I woke up in the middle of the night in the Beadsworth’s guest bedroom. I tossed and turned and tossed some more. I was having strange dreams. First, I was in a taxi with Marcus being pulled by Joe Coultier-not towed, but literally pulled by his massive arms. Then, I’m back in the taxi and I hit a recycling bin and out pops Mahmud. He demands why I hit his recycling bin and not someone else’s. Then I’m in the House of Jam and I’m being chased by Mahmud’s taxi. Finally, I’m standing near a lake and I decide to jump into the water, and when I do the water turns into pills and I get sucked in like quicksand. I scream but no one is there to help except for Clara Terries. I call for her and she reaches out to help me, but before I can grab her I wake up.
It was 3:21 in the morning. My stomach moaned. I got up and went downstairs. As I turned into the kitchen a boy leaped up, startled. He was holding a sandwich in his left hand and his right hand was covered in a cast.
“Hey, I’m not a robber,” I said. Black guy in the house in the middle of the night can send wrong messages to white kids. “I’m your father’s partner.”
“I know that,” he said. “I was surprised.”
“You’re…Christopher, right?” I said.
“No. Noel.”
Damn. Close, though. “Mind if I join you?”
He shook his head and sat down. He took a bite off his sandwich.
“That looks good,” I said.
“It’s tuna. I’ll show you were Mom keeps it.”
He pointed out all the ingredients and I made myself a similar sandwich.
Once we were seated I said, “By the way, my name is Jon.” I offered my hand as a late introduction. He shook it. “You couldn’t sleep either?” I asked.
He nodded.
“I couldn’t,” I said. “I had nightmares.”
“You did?” he said, looking up.
“Yeah.”
“What kind of nightmares? Scary monster nightmares?’
“You could say that,” I said.
“I get this nightmare where this humungous giant lizard with fangs and five tentacles comes out of the closet and eats me alive.”
Humungous lizard?
“Are you a police officer just like dad?” he asked.
“Sure am,” I said, in my police-like tone.
“You catch bad guys every day?”
