STATIONARY
People come and people go. It’s the perfect location to hang out for a cab driver. For Rick, it was a little depressing though. Saddled with debt and mounting child support that he was sure went straight to his ex-wife’s drinking and gambling habits, he felt trapped by circumstance.
There was no escape for him, nowhere for him to go. His life had never been a model of luck and prosperity, but if he thought hard enough, it had once been better. He used to be happier. He used to have a full head of hair that wasn’t peppered with streaks of grey. Twenty-seven was too young to be going grey and he blamed it on his lot in life.
He took another puff of his cigarette and leaned against the driver’s side door of the car. Two buses had pulled up within minutes of each other and the train was due within the next ten minutes.
Each of those vehicles of mass transportation would be disgorging a horde of weary travellers, crashing after the excitement of the adventures away. The train was arriving from Toronto, and one of the buses from Montreal and Ottawa, so he knew that his fare would feel compelled to regale him with the details of their exciting trip. He burped lightly, his stomach rebelling against the thought.
With any luck, he would get someone who was visiting here. Those fares were usually more subdued. Sure they would tell him about the grandchildren, nieces, or nephews they were visiting, but at least it wouldn’t be a constant barrage of “good times”.
He wished that he could jump on that train and ride it to the end of the line. He didn’t even care where that might be, because wherever it was, it was not here. That was all that really mattered. He wanted out.
A willowy blonde woman, probably in her late thirties, exited the terminal and looked uncertainly in his direction. He waved to her, tossed his cigarette butt to the ground, and moved to help with her luggage.
Please let her be visiting. As he neared, a smile spread across her face and everything changed. He didn’t care who she was, or where she was going. There was so much warmth in her smile, so much peace and compassion; that he no longer cared about anything.
“Can you take me home now?” she asked, a hint of shyness in her voice.
“Your place or mine,” he replied.
They burst out laughing.
“Let me guess,” she asked. “The hard-luck cab driver?”
“He’s one of my favourites. How is your grandmother doing?”
“She’s great.”
They climbed into the car and set off for home.
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