A Close Call

Never a dull moment when you’re a taxi driver. Just another day, this guy got in and placed a plastic bag on the seat next to him. If I had known about the catastrophe that was going to take place, I would have never let him set foot inside my cab. The man looked like he was in his late twenties, his face was covered in stubble and he had shaggy brown hair that was in disarray. He was well-built with a small but noticeable scar running down his cheek. I was tense because of his sinewy appearance. It was Thursday, a little after 6:00 P.M., and he was wearing a worn down shirt with a tie hanging loosely around his neck which made me assume that he had dropped by the store on his way home from work.

The man smiled at me and  said in a low, raspy voice, “Good evening, do you know a good place for me to grab my dinner?”

I scowled, and wondered why he was asking me. I was certain that he had a phone, so what did he want from me? I hated it when people asked me questions like this - I still do, it is very troublesome to think of something that people like them may enjoy since I can only afford to eat at cheap, fast food restaurants like McDonald’s. I recalled two other passengers’ conversation about a restaurant called Frenchette two or three days ago. It had sounded pretty good to me and it was a place I could never afford to eat at.

“There’s this place called Frenchette about 9 miles away. I heard it has good duck frites,” I replied a couple of seconds later. 

His smile brightened and my dislike for him instantly increased - he seemed excessively happy for no reason; it creeped me out since passengers never really smiled, especially not the ones that looked like him. “Sounds great! I’ve never tried duck frites,” he stated eagerly.

This man reminded me of a child; he was happy for no reason and he was enlivened by the thought of something as insignificant as trying a new dish. His personality was strikingly similar to mine when I was around his age but I had long since lost the child-like innocence that he carried with pride.

All of a sudden the phone rang, the unanticipated sound making me jump in my seat. Before he answered the call, the man laughed at my apprehensive nature and whispered “It’s mine.”

“Hey Samuel, how are you?” he answered with a gruff voice. 

I couldn’t help but eavesdrop since I had nothing better to do, but the conversation was off to a rather unimaginative start. It was difficult to hear the man over all the honking and his quiet voice made it even harder. 

“Yeah, I’m free tomorrow night,” he casually stated. Then he continued in a buoyant tone, “Of course! It’ll be fun!”

 At this point I was starting to lose interest in the conversation. After a few seconds the man grinned and said “Yea, he’s starting to cause a lot of trouble. I’ll take care of him tonight.”

This peaked my curiosity, I wondered whether he was talking about a family member, friend, or someone he worked with. The conversation had been a very casual one so far but what he said next made my heart skip a beat. “Yes I did try killing him before but he escaped by the skin of his teeth. I’ll make sure he dies this time, he just makes me so angry!” he exclaimed.

My heart started pounding dangerously fast. It was hard for me to believe that there was a would-be murderer sitting in my cab. By now the man’s happy-go-lucky expression had been replaced with a clearly frustrated one and this made me feel even more on edge. 

The man cleared his throat, then continued as if there was nothing wrong with the conversation he was having, “Mhmm, I saw his little friend yesterday and I’m going to kill both of them tonight,” he furrowed his brows. 

He was glowering and it made me feel even more unnerved than before. I was petrified, how could someone take killing not one, but two people so lightly? This had driven me to think that he would kill me without a second thought, too. I was astounded, and I felt like my heart would fall out of my chest at any time. 

It was getting harder for me to hear him and his voice seemed to be getting more hushed each time he said something. I had to strain my ears and focus all my attention on listening to him to be able to apprehend what he was saying and this took a toll on my driving. I had made sudden breaks and had had unexpected changes in speed more times than I could keep track of. I was perspiring like crazy and it was impossible for me to stop looking at the rear view mirror over and over again. I was overcome with paranoia.  

“Don’t worry, I just got the stuff I need,” he laughed and said in a hushed voice, “No, we don’t need to call anyone. Trust me, I have it under control.” 

Once again, this led my eyes to the rear view mirror. I scrunched my brows and tried looking at the plastic bag next to him and caught a glimpse of a very small piece of shiny metal that was peeking out of the bag. I was feeling nauseous and wanted to tell him to get out of my cab, but I was deathly afraid and couldn’t gather up the courage to do so. I was overwhelmed with consternation and I pressed on the accelerator harder; all I wanted was to get the man out of my cab as soon as possible.

 “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow!” he mumbled and hung up.

My hands were shaking and I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to get him off my cab and I skidded the car to a halt. There was a lump in my throat and my vision had started to get blurry but I was too frightened to try to stop my tears from falling. Never in my life had I been so terror-stricken.

The man furrowed his brows in confusion “I don’t see a restaurant. Are you su-”

I cut him off, my face was suffused with fear and I yelled “Get out of my car you-you psychopath!” he was about to speak but I refused to give him a chance, tears were streaming down my face which made me resemble a mere child throwing a tantrum but I continued screaming, “Get out! Get the hell out and I won’t tell anyone about the murder! Just please leave me alone!” 

He was perplexed, “What are you talking about? What do you mean murder?” This made me furious, but I had calmed down a little.

  I was still crying but I hastily tried wiping my tears away. My voice sounded hoarse as I said, “Don’t play dumb! That phone call…the bag...” I shook my head in exasperation, “Just get out of my taxi,” I pleaded.

At this, the man started laughing and I was dumbfounded. He tried to stop and explain what happened but he couldn’t get himself to stop laughing. I didn’t understand what was so uproarious, which annoyed me beyond belief. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the man said, “Rats! I was talking about the rats in my house! Oh, and the bag? There are just a couple of mousetraps in it!” he exclaimed, then burst into another round of laughter.

“I think I’ll just find myself another cab,” the man stated while he grabbed the plastic bag, his laughter had stopped as abruptly as it had started.

I was too stumped to say anything, all I could manage to do was look out the window and feel like a halfwit. He gave me a quick smile as he passed by my car but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Yes, his eyes, those were what caught me off guard; they were stone cold. A shiver ran down my spine.