Puzzling Pieces

Chapter 6

It escalated to a whole new level after the Jew said that I saved him. I was no racist. I knew a Jew once. My 5th-grade teacher was a real peasant who promoted me to be the biggest bum of them all. She was right, of course. I was destined to be street-credible. I hated institutions where teachers had bigger t**s than brains.

She said that I was the epitome of hell, without having to mention the word hell to my face. Gave me detentions because I asked why she never gave us anything worthwhile to learn? We're learning English, and I'm speaking like I'm better off with Latin. I said f**k that class! But I always managed to go back. I endured school because I liked pain.

Elisha, is this guy's name. You're not safe here. After you stood up to that felony cop, they've been putting the word to watch your every move.”

“Man … all I did was intervene.”

“Well, it's me who's going to have to change your route. You can't be moving predictably anymore.”

“I haven't moved at all. I literally just arrived here.” Elisha takes a right, instead of the left that I needed. There's minimal traffic out there. But the congestion starts to pick up; horns blaring and vehicles surrounding roundabouts that barely move start to come into effect.

I don't know where he's taking me. There are more yellow cabs out there than father Christmases elves. I'm winding down the window and spot a kiosk that has many ice creams with weed-influenced names like Maryjane-melon and m*******a-berry.

If I had the time, I'd give it a taster. But right now, all that's flashing past is a couple of avenue streets and boulevard this … and triangular signposts giving me an insight into remembering my way back.

A red light comes up and he applies the brakes and stops … stretches to the glove department that has a whole load of keys in there, including a small Torah handbook, a star of David, and steps on how to respect the Sabbath day. A pack of 50 – smokes is in there, which he takes out and lays it on the seat.

He must've had that imported in for a dirt-cheap price? But what he brings out and keeps a-hold of is a passport sized photo and reaches back to hand it to me.

I take it and analyze. Then give it back to him like I don't know who that is. I do. But I keep a straight face. Play it cool.

“It's this guy I need to find.”Elisha takes it back when he realizes that I've looked long enough.

“Who is he?”

“Some retired lieutenant. I was given this the same night that phony cop came.”

“Why are you showing me this?”

“To be honest … I don't know? It came like a worm out of a green apple. Something inside me said to show you this picture. It doesn't matter. Maybe I need to just get s**t off my chest. I got a cold, you see. I need to get rid of that sneeze. This man's an itch up my nose.”

“The old man …”I rephrase. This man here … they were looking for him?”

“That cop was. Yes.”

“I don't see how I can help you, Elisha? I mean … were we going? And you showing me this picture …”I'm staring out the window and a see a Hare Krishna movement banging some drums and shaking some tambourines. They hold us back. And now I pounce for Elisha by unleashing my switchblade and bringing it real close to his thorax.

His body retaliates as far it can back into his headrest. He darent move. We have time here. It’s a large following out there. A branch of Hinduism that I never understood. The police are trying to get everybody across the road safely. A man with a yellow hi-res jacket holds up the stop sign. I have time … I have time …

“I learned that nothing is by chance. I find the coin slots in to nicely. Am I meant to sit here and believe your attention for bringing me somewhere else is for my own benefit?”

Elisha is tense. His voice strained. "You saved me.”

“Says you. For all I know, you could be anybody.”

He recoils in his seat. "Why would I mention something like that if it didn't happen?”

“Many reasons. One starts with that old man.”

“You know him then?” –

“I never said that. But you're lying about it being a random occurrence to want to show me that photograph. If you want me to have any chance of playing buddies with you, I'll need to know the truth.”

“It's best you find out what you need to. All I'm going to do is make life miserable for you.”

“Test my waters. I've been dunked to the depths before.”

“Do you know the old man?”

“I can't recall him. Tell me what you know?”

“If you don't know him then where I'm taking you won't bother you much.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let's just say I'm a little like you.”

“How?”

“He saved me out of a pickle too.”

…

Where Elisha took me was a setup I knew all too well. I wouldn't have caught a vibe from him that he was more than just a cabman an ex-gangster. He looked like he could kick it with rappers from Brooklyn, but his demeanor denounced a coconut shell. If I had to give a name to this place I would say it's the beginning of an alleyway where prostitutes of the male and the female kind can be found.

Gas blew out from the pipes: a hissing snake that tells you to not light a match. Flammable barrels and toxic chemicals roam the air and clog my lungs tight.

There's also a sulphuric smell that you wouldn't find in fruits. And small puddles of water are everywhere in various cracks. It’s like a wrong turn. A few young boys in puffer jackers like the back of an armadillo raise their chins to Elisha. They know him as he gives them a friendly beep.

Elisha drives right down to the end. I'm in the front seat now with the knife tapping against my knee. These kinds of alleyways always lead to a miserable tale for me. The last time I strolled down one, I was nearly beaten to death. I'd uncovered a short story where nobody could find the weapon. I did. The cocky bastard laid it in plain sight and only I was able to think of the less obvious.

I had a bad feeling running down my spine. I wasn't exactly nervous, but Elisha told me that the old man in that picture was here one-night. And the female's name …

He keeps the engine running as he points. “Do you see that spot there. I had to wait for that cop that night. I heard it all because voices were raised. They were speaking on the arrival of a young girl that was coming to the apple.”

I give Elisha a glance. "I don’t get you, Elisha. The question keeps honking in my brain. You're telling me things that don’t involve me. We aren't anything alike, me and you.”

“That old man described you down to a perfect 10. He wasn't at fault. He was selling out that girl.”

“Nonsense.” –

“So, you do know him? And wouldn't be surprised that he did some dodgy s**t back in the army. Had some run-ins with the law. And that same law followed him majorly through his life. Even me, being paid to watch that old man and take him every time he would meet up with that cop … that story wouldn't appeal to you either would it?”

“Get to the point … and get me out of here!”

“By that red and black dumpster. A name was exchanged. And it was Sia. And she was coming to the neighborhood because she was in a pickle. Had to run from her own mistake of getting involved in some nasty business. He was selling out some story about having no choice but to tell her everything.”

I stop tapping my knife. “You have the wrong chick. I know nothing about this old guy. Sorry.”

“It's you … Sia. It fits perfectly.”

“And what would I be doing with an old retired veteran?” -

“Hoping that you could save him deep down.”

I pause my tapping knife again. “Save him from what?” –

“What you already knew would happen. Like I said, were a part of the same story.”

Elisha's beating around the bush was doing my head-in. But … there was too much to not give in to the reality. My reasons for coming over here were puzzling me now. Viv being dead left plenty of unanswered questions.

But my pattern of never having peace had already unfolded. I save a Jewish ex-con. I'm now down a familiar structure and setup. I feel unsafe … and it hasn't been 78-hours yet. This is a new-time record. How could Viv sell me out? If there was an ounce of truth in that it would break the heart that I don't have.

But my name. This cabbie knows my name and has displayed an image of Viv. And that's a shell-shocker! It means I could be in jeopardy because of my plan to come here involved him. To protect him from what I know he could never escape from. His whole persona that night was fear and no straight-line. I knew … and then I didn't know.

But what was now in my hindsight and Elisha's was a man appearing around the corner. He stopped: 20 – yards away from the taxi. Elisha shiftily glances towards me. “We can do this differently. Just put down the knife and I'll offer you up somewhere to stay for the next few hours.”

“Who the f**k is that!?”

“He's going to get into the cab. Nothing to hide. I won't be afraid to talk to him if you're here. It might piece together a little bit on Viv. Come on. You saved me. And if you want to keep your identity secret, then do that. I don't know what good it will do you.”

“How can I trust that he isn't another phony cop? And for that instance, you could be too?”

“If I was a cop. I could only be one kind, and that kind usually escorts old veterans like Vivian into a sector where they can keep an eye on him. Because if he steps out of line …”

The man comes closer to the cab. I try to unlock the door, but Elisha has the ability to child lock. A dangerous move to give a cabman at night when he's picking up drunk women. I twist the knife into the side of his temple. He unlocks the door. I get out and approach the man before me now, who's nearly taller than me. Built like a jaguar with very dark skin and white pupils that don't shudder at the sight of me. I must confuse him with my words.

“I need you to let me pass. I'll take myself home from here.”

“Not wise.” He talks with an old ancient ambiance. Like he was raised to speak epically. His queer smile comes across his face. Makes me unpleasant. “You know who I am?”

“You and that cabman back there are running riot today. I've never met you in my life.”

“Is that right … you were always the cockiest member. Felt like you could take on some of the bigger boys. You had them beat. But for me … I had you figured.”

My knife drops to the floor. I see it now. I see Viv's grandson.