“Please sir,” I said to the cabman. “Turn around.”
The white-haired old man who had been carrying me around the town for the past two hours looked at me with surprise on his face. “What happened?” he asked, his face turned toward me but his hands on the wheel. “The gent you told me had been waiting for you ain’t coming?”
How should I answer this question? This man had been driving me around for the past two or three hours and the worst was, I didn’t tell him where I was headed— just told him to drive me around.
I was hoping Monroe would pick up my calls so he could tell me where I would stop but he did not— I was disappointed. “He ain’t coming,” I replied, trying to hide the frustration in my voice. “drive me back to where you picked me up from.”
Five or more seconds later, the man
