The Driver, Under a Cheshire Moon
“Here’s another one,” the driver said. He flipped through the pages of the jammed-full scrapbook, and let it fall open to a newspaper clipping with the headline: UNBORN BABY STOLEN, MOTHER CRITICAL. “The mother pulled through but not the child. A boy. Got a respiratory infection and lasted about ten days. He died before his mother got out of the hospital. He’s buried in the woods behind a recycling plant. Only three people know that.”
He lifted a paper cup from the tray beneath the radio console and sipped coffee. “Getting warm in here, isn’t it?”
The driver’s-side window lowered as he pushed the button on the door. Soft, sweet-smelling air breathed into the car. The driver liked that about these remote places: the clean taste of the air and how clear t
