Steadily, the taxi comes to a stop right next to him. He stretches out his hand, pulls the door open, and gets in. He greets the driver with a curt smile as he shuts the door.
“Where to?”
“Spuna Gardens, please.”
And off they go. He soon starts perusing the pages of his moleskin notebook and reading past scribblings. Downtown is particularly silent and the air is bland and chill. It is only a quarter to midday. Alfred can barely hear the soft jazz playing in the streets, the cab driver tapping his finger, and a flock of pigeons flying off from a nearby bench on the side of the road…until the driver clears his throat.
“So what’s happening at the Gardens?”
His face looked sincere and his eyes briefly darted from the road ahead to Alfred’s face on the rearview mirror.
“Just a wedding.” Alfred was almost surprised at how abrupt his answer sounded.
“You were invited?” The driver pushed earnestly.
“No,” Alfred was starting to get annoyed, “I’m just going to see someone who’s there.” And at that, he was satisfied with his response.
The driver smiled a bit. “You don’t look dressed for a wedding.”
But Alfred didn’t say anything after that. The rest of the drive continued silently, so he went back to his notebook. He drew a fountain pen from his coat pocket and scribbled something. By now, the taxi was among less crowded avenues and about to leave the city. With barely any people walking along the deserted streets, the area looked like it hadn’t been inhabited for months. Alfred stopped writing. He then furtively checked the time on his wristwatch. 11.56 a.m. He looked out both windows and dug into his coat for a sharp, gleaming pocket knife. Hiding it carefully behind his fingers, he suddenly lunged at the driver and rested the small metal blade along the driver’s neck. He knew where the carotid was. He could feel his pulse. The driver gave a start. The car didn’t even veer off the lane, it just came to a gradual halt. The driver was trembling and a drop of sweat slid down Alfred’s back, making him almost flinch.
“Get out of the car now,” Alfred’s tone must have sounded imposing enough because the driver followed immediately. “Walk away and say nothing to no one.”
Instantaneously, the man turned, and his fist met Alfred’s face before he could even blink. Alfred recoiled but his head was already spinning. His nostrils were stinging. The driver ran round and quickly pulled Alfred’s door open with a brash, condescending look.
“GET THE HELL OUT OF MY CAB!”
And so he conceded defeat. At least I tried, he said to himself. He hobbled away as the cab driver looked on, almost with pity.
Great story! There's a whole bunch of interesting ways this story could continue.
I enjoyed this story!