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 Adequate, I replied.
Nicole looked up from her paperwork and smiled warmly at me. She held up a fistful of charge slips.
 U-Ride hell for me.
Kern snorted loudly.  Too much trouble, not enough tips. Dealing with the university is like dealing with
the fucking devil.
Truck burst into the driver s room and slammed his seat-pad along with the rest of his cab-driving
paraphernalia loudly on one of the table tops. His clipboard clattered on the floor, where he let it lay.
About to leave, Kern had been holding his cushion, clipboard and a book under his arm. He put his
materials on a table, reached for a cigarette and lit it.
 How was yournight, Truck? Kern perched himself atop the table and took a deep drag from his
Marlboro.
 U-Ride hell, Truck replied.  U-Ride hell, pure and simple. This burly bear of a man paused, obviously
noting that everyone in the room was staring at him in rapt attention.
 I tell you, it s bad enough we have to give those damn university brats free cab rides to hell and back 
 The programis projected to gross almost a half-million dollars of annual revenue, I interrupted.
 Yeah, Truck countered,  but out of forty rides tonight, why did I have to run ten of them? And not a
goddamn tip from any of  em.
 Gotta play the airport more, Kern interjected.
Truck paused again. He took off his horn-rimmed glasses, rubbed his eyes and scratched his beard.  But
you know what? I got to throw one of those little fuckers out of my cab tonight.
 No way.
 Is that so?
 Way to go.
 Yeah. Bastard gets in the cab, him and some girl. Man, she was fucked up. All glassy-eyed. I ask for his
student ID, he says,  Just drive. I tell the peckerwood frat boy he s gotta show me his student ID
because the university says so. He says,  Fuck you. Well, then I tell him he s gotta change his attitude
right now. He says,  This is U-Ride. You have to take me. You re just a fucking cab driver. So, I get
out of the cab, go to his side, open the door and say,  you have one of two choices. Either get out now
or be carried out. You have  til three to decide. Two! 
Truck stood frozen a moment, body rigid, head craned forward, eyes glaring like Rasputin s. Laughter
filled the room.
 Way to go, Truck, Kern said.  Man! I would ve loved to have been there.
Truck relaxed and smiled at Kern.  It was fuckin beautiful, man. It was retribution, not just for me, but
for all my brother and sister cabbies.
 How was your night, Al? Nicole asked.
I picked up a handful of charge slips, all reading  U-Ride on the  charge to line.  A bit of U-Ride
Hades for me, too. But I did have one cash passenger who tipped pretty well.
 How well? Nicole asked.
 Well, what is it I can say? Some tips are like snacks and some tips are like meals.
Nicole smiled broadly. And with apparent understanding.
****
We spent the last couple hours before sunrise on the north shore ofLakeMonona , wrapped in a blanket,
staring up at the stars. It was a clear, mild night, warm for early May. A waxing quarter-moon cast a long
reflection off the lake, pointing arrow-like at the State Capitol, which loomed brilliant white, surrounded
by traffic lights blinking yellow and red. All was quiet. Within earshot, a few ducks quacked.
 Dinner? Nicole inquired, pointing toward the ducks.
 I am well sated. They may quack in peace.
Above, the constellations lay in stark contrast to their black background, their ancient light old enough to
make even a thousand-year-old vampire feel not quite so old, nor quite so wise.
Nicole took my hand.  I think I d like to live forever. Her voice had a certain far-off, musing quality.
 Eternity is a long time, I replied.  And immortality is a double-edged sword. On the positive, there is
what I have seen. And, on the negative, there is also what I have seen.
 Riddles. She pressed closer to me, trying to use me as a shield against the chill of the coming dawn.
Even wrapped in a blanket, I could feel her begin to shiver a bit.
 You are cold, I observed.  Perhaps, we should leave.
Ebony had begun to yield to royal blue. It was time to depart. Dawn would not come for quite some time
yet, but we would want some time at my apartment before the dawn s first rays sapped from me all my
strength. As we approached my car, a broadside posted to a telephone pole attracted my attention.
The posting bore a full-color photo of a young woman, blonde and angelic. Under her picture, in large,
bold letters, lay the word,  Missing.
 She s probably already dead, Nicole said bitterly.
The poster offered a $500 reward for information leading to her safe return. Apparently, Dawn Stevens
of the Delta Gamma sorority, a sophomore at the university, had been missing since April 5. I
remembered reading a short item about her in one of theMadison dailies. Her sorority sisters had gone
out that night. She had stayed home. When her sisters returned, she was gone and had not been seen
since.
 Violence is tearing your nation apart, I said, suddenly feeling an urge to rant and rave pedantically.
 Your inner cities full of violence, with teens bringing guns to school, so many young faces plastered on
milk cartons and posters like this. And all those serial killers. Centuries ago, before people routinely
traveled the world, it was not like that. Their communities were their world. People felt responsible to
their community, and if they did not, the community was swift in its punishment. Now, with all this
freedom of movement, that responsibility is gone, and these killers feel free to indulge the whims of their
rampant id.
 Well, that s pretty prosaic, Al, Nicole replied sharply.  But what gets lost in your
world-according-to-Al is that this fucker is doing this to women, and that s something that s always been
an accepted part of patriarchal society. Even in your precious communities of yesterday.
I shook my head, but held my peace. Though I did not completely agree with her assessment, it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]