Forced

“Follow that car.”

The gruesome old man ferociously slammed my car door and shoved me an 100 dollar bill. While I was extremely skeptical of what was happening, I had to think of my son. We need this job, and money is money. I asked no questions, took the money, and followed that car.

The car didn’t seem to be going at an abnormal speed, which took away all my thoughts of this being a high-speed car chase. I kept a close eye on the man in the back, whose name I had not yet gotten. He sat with his arms folded, with a stern expression displayed on his face. 

Just when I thought the mysterious car would stop and all would be well, it made a sharp turn left, and I was forced to follow, not wanting to lose the money. As I turned, I noticed the man’s expression almost immediately changed to alert, and was suddenly very interested in where we were. 

“Keep following them, at all costs.” he said, his voice now crisp and clear. I nodded my head as a confirmation and continued to follow the sleek, black car. By now, it was clear that the car knew it was being followed, if it had not known already. We slowly followed them, and I saw the man’s face go from alert back to its stern expression.

Suddenly, the car stopped. Following the man’s previous instructions, I stopped as well, which made him look up in surprise. I wasn’t sure what to do next. Should I let him out, or does he want to stay in? Will the car move again? Then, one, small thought came to my mind. 

What if..something happens? 

Oh god. I instantly felt a wave of regret come over me. Even though money was money, I clearly didn’t think this through. If something bad happens, what about my son? Poor, little Roman. I’m all he’s got. 

I was instantly taken out of my thoughts when a short, plump man exited the car. His small, circular spectacles sat prominently on his pale face. He started walking slowly towards the car, almost eerily. I looked at the man sitting in the back, and he made almost no physical expression change. I heard a knock on the window, and saw that the man had finished walking. He signaled for me to roll down my window, which I was too scared to not follow his instructions.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m sure you have lots of questions, but I can assure you, you are not in any trouble. I am William, and you are..?” He spoke, very gently and calmly.

“C-Clara..” I barely mustered out. Where did my voice go? Nevermind that, where did my confidence go? The man in the back now looked angry at William, and began to speak. 

“Yes, you are not in trouble. All I needed was a ride. You can keep the change, and I’ll be on my way.” he spoke gruffly, unlike William.

The man, whose name I still haven’t gotten, left the car and flipped his hand at me, a sign to leave. 

I was shaken up a bit, but I pulled out, made a U-Turn, and left, barely going above the speed limit. What was that? In all my years of being a taxi driver, which may have not been long, but long enough, I have never seen anything like that. Almost all my jobs are fast and quick, transporting people around the city, but I had never taken so much interest in a customer until now. I couldn’t shake this sudden interest, and with this man’s..generous tip, I would have some free time on my hands. 

About 10 minutes later, I found myself in the library looking up everything I knew about this man. William, short, glasses…nothing seems to be working. “Oh well.” I thought. At least I tried.

I returned to my car, slightly dejected, but at least I picked up some books to read to Roman tonight. Like clockwork, I went to the back seat of my car to clean before going out for another run, when I saw a small slip of paper. It looked as if it had gotten stuck in between the seat belt and the seat itself. I pulled it out, only to discover there were some numbers and letters written on it. I looked at it, but then I realized exactly what it was. 

“How stupid!” I thought. “It’s a license plate! This is what I needed!” 

All of a sudden, a surge of motivation rushed inside me and I practically ran back into the library. All I did was type in the license plate, and the car instantly came up, along with more information about it then I could’ve imagined. I started clicking all kinds of links, and learned that the car was registered to a man named Casper Wiltshire. When I searched that up, pictures of the man came up. “Well, now I know his name.” I smiled to myself. 

However, a quick glance at the time cut my investigation short. I dashed out of the library, into my car, and drove the normally 10 minute ride in 7, to Roman’s school. Thankfully, I was on time, and didn’t get a ticket, always a plus. 

“So, how was kindergarten, Roman? Learn anything new?” I ask, keeping the conversation light.

“It was ok, Mama. Julie made fun of me. She said my clothes are.. raggedy? What’s that mean, Mama?” Roman whispered, ashamed. 

I knew this question would continuously come up, and every time, it was harder and harder to answer. I tried diverting the question. 

“Did you tell Mrs. Quinn about this?” I asked.

“Yeah, and she said that Julie couldn’t go to the first 5 minutes of recess tomorrow. But Mama, what’s it mean?” he asked once more, this time, tears welling up in his eyes. 

Roman was 6 now, and I still didn’t know how to explain this to him. 

“Well, Roman, did you fall in recess today? I see the dirt on your shirt.” I asked, while thinking of what to say next.

Yeah, I tripped on the playground. But it’s ok, I went to the Nurse’s office, and she helped me.” For a moment, he smiled.

“Well..” I said, knowing exactly what to say next. “Julie probably was talking about the dirt on your shirt, not you, honey. There’s nothing to worry about.” I made sure to speak in a calm voice so I would not upset him.

“Oh, alright Mama!” he said, his expression changing to cheerful. He climbed into the back of the car while I opened the trunk and grabbed his booster seat. I quickly installed it, by now I would say I’m a master at these things, and started to drive home.

“Mama, look!” Roman shouted, and pointed outside the window. I turned my head, and saw something I’ll never unsee.

“Turn away, Roman. Try not to look.” I said sternly.

The sleek black car had crashed into a phone poll, and later that night on the news, I saw two had died.

Their names were Casper and William Wiltshire.