Читать книгу C'mon, Taxi Driver - Noah Burke - Страница 2

That... that was a wall... this sluggishly passes through my drunken brain as I peel my face from the wall and drop it to the floor. I'm gonna feel this for a few days. Maybe my long lost cousin is right. Zombies shouldn't drink. The next morning, I stumble over to my face, pick it up off the ground and plaster it back on, wincing as the light registers in my deadened eyes. I should call Val. I find my phone behind the couch and call up Val to see if she can tell me what happened last night. Her phone picks up with a crash followed by a, "Mrow?" on the other end of the phone. It's her cat, Ghastly. The most infuriating little beast in such a small body. Ghastly loves Val but hates me and the feeling is mutual. I hang up on the nasty thing as if doing so could somehow spite him even though I know he probably is just sitting on the phone and going to fall asleep. I'll call her cell, she must be out. These are such weird contraptions, me and Val found them one day, relics of before the war. People used to have them a lot, we don't really need them now though. We still use them on occasion though. After some programmed propaganda about the strength of the Nazis it rings and some birds that are way too happy for this ungodly bright morning, chirp off in the distance. It seems odd, almost mechanical, their tune repeating over and over again. That's when it hits me, Val's ring-tone is birds chirping. I hang up frantically, stopping the soft chirps from my room. This only confirms my fears, leaving where my heart should be at beating out of my chest as I creep over to my room. Every creak and stray bottle magnified so loud around the apartment, after what should have been an eternity I finally come to the door and peer around it. There she is, so beautiful, black hair splayed out across the bed and a dreamy smile on her face. What have I done?...

Nothing happened... no. Impossible. Val is just a friend, nothing happened. This runs through my brain which has suddenly found a new propensity to think things. She must have just crashed on my bed last night and I took the couch. Yeah, that's what happened. I mean, I love her, like a lot. But... she's just a friend. We've known each other for a long time and we're really close but she'd never hook-up with me... right? I mean, honestly, what kind of self-respecting vampire would lay with a zombie like me? None, that's right. Okay. Having abated my fears ever so slightly I detach myself from the wall I had pressed myself against. No sooner than I step away, do I feel the ice cold skin of her arms as they wrap around me from behind and smell the oh-so-sweet smell of a long lost memory that is unmistakably her. Her head presses into my back so I turn around to see her sleepy green eyes staring up at me. Oh crap... It totally happened last night. Wait, no, she would never have let me near her like that. She kisses my neck, right where it seems she left two fresh bite holes, whispers, "Good morning Cabbage, thanks for last night", and presses her head into my chest. Oh Cthulhu, what did I do?

Now, this is odd for me to say, being actually dead, but I have never felt so dead and numb inside as I do right now when my fears have come to fruition. I screwed up... big time. I mean, I love her... but I didn't want it to happen like this.... This wasn't supposed to happen.... Who started it? Me or her?... Why can't I remember anything? What exactly happened?... My brain churns, or at least the mush that is left of it does, looking for answers that aren't there.

She squeezes me tight then lets go, saying, "I really needed someone to snuggle with, I wasn't in a good place. It means a lot that you took care of me. We both knows those guys weren't going to." Hold up, what? Does she mean what I think she means? My mind can't decide whether to be happy, confused or disappointed and so I just lean in and give her another hug, just to smell her again and say, "Anytime." Val is just a friend, right?

"You alright there?" she furrows her brow and puts her icy hands on my face, "What's going on in that mind of yours?" Oh no, she can tell I'm freaking out. She smiles and pats my cheek, "Hopefully nothing too bad." Why does she do this to me? Turning around, she grabs a plastic Halloween cup and checks it briefly before filling it with water from the sink. "Do you remember anything from last night?" um... no. crap, what do I say? Why is she so casual about all of this?

"Not too much... still feeling a little dead", I say as I reach back to scratch the back of my head, trying to act like I'm not racking my conscience for a real answer on what went down.

"Right... Because that's why you feel dead...." She turns back to me, rolling her eyes and taking a sip from the cup, the fangs painted on it lining up just right with her face. Of course she had to pick up that one. I chuckle and she flashes me a glare. Ah hell. "Something funny, Taxi Driver?"

"No, nothing, nothing funny at all. Just the cup... has fangs", I stammer out. How can she control my emotions like this? She smiles coyly. I swear, she must love messing with me like this.

"Uh huh. Alright Cabbage, whatever you say," Val taunts with a flash of her teeth, having emptied the cup, "How about this, you take me home and I'll tell you a little bit about what happened last night after work. Deal?" Like I could ever say no to you.

"As you wish." I say, smiling and grabbing my keys off the counter. "Let's go." I turn around to walk out and she's already standing by the door, tapping her foot impatiently at me. "Someone's ready to go."

"Only been waiting on you for an eternity. You're soooo slow." She smiles at me, feigning a sweet innocence. Gee thanks. She opens the creaky old door and I follow her down the hall and onto the street where my beat up old taxi waits, its dusty yellow paint peeking out from behind faded graffiti and the worn taxi sign on top somehow still clinging on for life. I open the door for Val and close it behind her as I walk around the front, running my hands over the aged hood tenderly. It might not be pretty, but it's mine. Sliding in next to Val, I turn the key, feeling the engine turn over and roar to life.

"Alright, now to get you back to your house." I pull out onto the street and begin to drive away. The windows are down and the cool breeze whips into the car and through Val's hair as we pass groggy and weary strangers on the street, hobbling back to their rat-holes after the events of last night's parties. Werewolves, zombies, and beasts of all kinds walking the same walk of shame back to their homes. The only ones missing from this are the soulless ghouls, no one really knows what they do at night. The cities skyscrapers give way to broken suburbs, relics of an urban sprawl from a population much larger than ours, and on to the countryside where the vampires live. As a zombie I just live in an apartment in the city, nothing fancy like the werewolves' frat houses, or a ghoul's... wherever it is they live. But vampires, they get castles. I always wondered at this. Vampires don't like sun yet choose to dwell in castles out in the country. I suppose it doesn't matter much anymore really with the sun dulled as it is from the war. No one knows how long it's been since the war, but sometimes it looks like it was just yesterday. And vampires never invite others inside, they're largely solitary, especially the older ones. Younger ones like Val may make some friends but even then it's rarely outside their own kind. Another reason Val and I are such weird friends. I take her home most every day when she hails a taxi after a long day working at the Coffee Kilter. She doesn't even need a taxi as vampires can move much faster than my taxi ever could. Regardless she always plops down herself in the passenger seat, her kilt flapping in behind her. And I drive, way out past where the sidewalks end, while we talk. Sometimes just about her day and how things are, sometimes about silly stories like human monster-hunters, and sometimes about more serious things like our living death, vampire life, and the memories we wish we had. I love listening to her talk, about anything really. Her voice is so enchanting. And then I pull up to her fortress of a house, looming up on a hill. It's always so sad because I know I have to say goodbye. When I pass the stone gargoyles that crane their necks to watch my taxi creep up to the great doors of her house, my heart drops because I know she'll disappear behind the blackened oak doors and I won't be allowed to follow. But this morning is different. Usually I'm picking her up now, not taking her home. She leans back into the seat quietly as we drive out through the rolling hills and the morning dew. Her hair flails, a tattered flag over stormy seas and her eyes stare out, unblinking. What must she be thinking? The gravel cracks underneath the wheels as I stop before her doors and turn off the car. Immediately there settles a crushing silence. Only out here can there be so little to make sound. I step out and around to her side of the car, breaking the silence by crunching gravel under my boots, and open her door to let her step out. She takes a few steps, making no sound at all, and lingers. She hasn't said a word since we left my house. Closing her door, I lean on the taxi, pretending like my mind isn't going crazy trying to figure out what keeps her. "You okay?" I finally say.

"Yeah... it's just..." she turns around, something is obviously bothering her. "I don't know... could you..."

"Yes?"

"Could you come in?... Just for a little bit. I mean. You don't have to. It's just. I don't know... I just..." She's stumbling over her words. Is she nervous? What's going on?

"I will," she starts a little, surprised by my quick response. I'm surprised myself.

"What?"

"I'll come in." I say, trying so desperately to stay cool and pretend like my insides aren't churning over themselves. Why does she want me to go with her?

"Oh... okay..." She turns and takes a few cautious steps towards her door. What's eating at her? "I just... I don't really want to be alone right now."

"It's okay, I understand." She relaxes upon hearing this, "I'm here for you Val, you know that." I tell her, causing her to stop and turn back to look at me.

"Yeah... thanks Cabbage, it means a lot." She says this, the quiver in her voice fading. Suddenly she digs a heel into the gravel and turns back to her door, her black hair whipping around as she strides to the door, confident again. This makes no sense. "You coming?" she's stopped at the door, turned just enough to give me a piercing look as though I'm taking too long again, suddenly defiant. I follow her, pausing for a brief moment at the threshold before following her into the dark castle that I've only ever entered in daydreams. My deadened eyes aren't adjusting very well to the sudden dark, but as they tried I catch a glimpse of Val walking off. My foot catches and I fall forward with a groan, my face crashing into cold concrete. Stairs... should've known there would be stairs... Val starts before laughing a little, such a sweet sound. "Oh yeah, I forgot, you probably can't see much in here can you?"

"Not particularly." I groan as I push myself up from the stairs. She's suddenly right back by me, helping me up with a strong hand. I hate it when she does that.

"I'm so so so sorry, I didn't mean for you to get hurt. I'll get some lights, just stay right there." She sounds nervous again. Why is she being so weird? She leaves a blast of air behind as she rushes off into the distance.

And it's quiet. I can't see anything, the silence is pressing in on me. What was that? Did I hear something? Surely not. I must be imagining things. I swear I heard something. She's still not back yet, I don't like this. I hope she's alright, maybe she tripped while she was running off, maybe she's hurt and needs help. I should go look for her and make sure she's okay. She's taking an awful long time. I'm gonna get up and go look for her. I could call for her. No, I would look stupid... and scared. Hmmmm....I'll just get up casually and look for her. Okay, here goes. As I move to stand, there's a whoosh and bursts of flame explode along the wall knocking me onto my back, my retinas scorched by the sudden light. They adjust slowly to the light, I can make out the high arches that must be the ceiling, they're a soulless obsidian, gold accents tracing up along the walls, all coming to a point. The light seems to grasp at this point but falters as it nears. Maybe I didn't want to come in after all.

"That better?" Val's voice echoes through the halls. I guess that means she's alright. I feel a breeze and now Val's staring down at me, her head cocked to the side. "Why are you laying down, Taxi-man?" Hate that name. She picks me up and sets me down on my feet. "Sorry for being so weird right now, I'm still working on getting my thoughts together. Last night just reminded me of something I try to forget ever happened. Somethings are best left forgotten." She says, almost matter-of-factly. Uhh, okay. I look around and my eyes are met by ghostly arches and aged concrete blocks with black ivy growing across them.

"Woah... it's so..." Why did I say this, how am I supposed to finish this sentence? I'm already worried about what I'm doing here, who am I to comment on this place? Crap, what to say... Why am I so awkward?

"So, what? Old? Decrepit? Dusty? Lonely? It mostly feels lonely to me. I don't really like it all that much." She walks up the stairs, stroking the wall with her hand and letting her hair fall while her kilt sways from side to side outlining her toned legs. Don't stare. She'll know if you stare. Stop staring. She stops at the top of the stairs as she says, "You can pick your jaw off the ground now, Taxi Driver. I know what you're thinking." She does? Oh crap. I shouldn't be here. I should go, I've stayed too long. This isn't good.

I pick my jaw up and put it back on with a sickening sucking sound. "You do?" My voice quakes, belying my nervousness. You've done it now man, she knows you're nervous.

"Yeah, you've never been inside a castle, you're shocked by it. I can't deny, it's pretty impressive." She says, chuckling. "Unless you have to live in it that is." Not at all what I was thinking but okay. "You okay to stay here for a sec while I grab a shirt for work?" This comes out bubbly, she seems much more normal now. Well, normal for her anyways. I guess whatever it was that was bothering her is gone now, but somehow I doubt it. Maybe I'll hear about it some other time, probably best to drop it for now.

"Sure." I shrug, trying to be nonchalant, and put my hands in the pockets of my tattered black jacket. Something is in the left pocket, it's silky. My gut feeling says it's best to wait until she's rounded the corner of the stairs before checking what it is. After the last bit of her kilt disappears, I quickly pull it out hold it up. Oh crap. It's silky aright. A blackened square with blue embroidery. Why do I have this and when did it get in my pocket? Val keeps most of her possessions at home to keep others from taking them. She all but never relinquishes anything of her own and never gives someone a gift from her own belongings. And this little silk square is one of the few items she ever takes out of her house and only then to keep a tighter hold on it. With an eloquent V in the center it is unmistakably one of her six. But why do I have it? And in my jacket of all things? Did she put it there? Was she wearing my jacket? She keeps only one of these at a time and it rarely comes out of her pocket. I only know because she told me one day on the way back to her house while she was reminiscing on them being one of the few things she had from when she was still human, however long ago that was. And yet somehow I have one. Do I tell her? Or should I keep it and hope she doesn't notice? That would be creepy. Maybe... no. As I'm standing there trying to come up with an answer she swings around the corner of the stairs with a twirl so graceful. Hurriedly I shove the handkerchief back in my pocket and pretend like nothing happened. Hope she didn't see that. "Ready to go?" I say through a half-baked smile. Play it cool. Trying to stay cool around her is so hard.

"Aren't I always?" She answers brightly. Her concerned demeanor from earlier is completely gone, Cthulhu knows where. I turn to face her and she's already waiting on me again, tapping her foot as though eternities have passed. And maybe they have, no one really knows how long that would be. "C'mon, Taxi Driver, I'm gonna be late to work." Her voice is so playful and teasing that it's so hard to be mad at her for this. I follow her out the door and into the dew filled morning. As I open the Taxi door to let her in she pauses, her hand on my chest stopping my heart. Well it would've if I had one. And with a smiles whispers, "Thanks again, Cabbage." I close the door behind her and smile off into the distance before walking around and climbing in to start the car.

"Straight to work, Val?" I ask without looking at her as the car starts to move down along the hill towards the road. The sun is trying to rise off in the distance, even now though, it's like seeing it through a dusty lens.

"Naturally, put something nice on please, Taxi-man" She leans her head against the window and takes a deep breath. I turn on the radio and a slow tune comes through, a strong piano matched with a violin. "What's it like? Being a taxi driver, I mean." She asks this question almost every day, I think she expects a different answer.

"Well, you know... it's a job." I always started it this way, just to bide some time to come up with a real answer. "I drive people around, listen to their stories, What's going on in their lives, how much of a jerk their boss is, about who did what in the back of whose car with whom, and about how my taxi is nicer than the other taxis they've ridden in. That last bit is especially strange when I know some of them only ever ride in my taxi. I'll take it though. But it gives me lots of time to think thoughts about things and let my mind wander. Not too involved, but enough to where I don't fall asleep doing my job."

"That sounds nice, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be a taxi driver... to have so much time to think..." She lets this sentence trail off, knowing that she never could be.

"It's interesting, but I don't know if it's worth being a zombie. For one, we stink and two we're more dead than everybody and heartless than everybody else. I'm sure it's much nicer being a vampire with your speed and strength and such. You always seem to have fun at the Coffee Kilter too." I say this trying to lift the shadow on her face. I don't think it worked.

"Yeah, but it's not all fun either. Being a vampire isn't all it's cracked up to be." She lets out a long sigh as we're entering the city and she knows that the time to drop her off is nearing. Her left hand wanders down to the edge of her kilt, finding the same frayed edge she always plays with absentmindedly. I wonder if she notices how much I notice about her. I turn into the parking lot of the Coffee Kilter and up to the same parking spot that's always open. Right by some faded, red propaganda from the war. After the taxi sputters to an end, I get out and come around to open her door. She stands up and walks past me. "G'day, Taxi Driver. I'll see you at closing time." Her kilt billows in the bitter city wind as she walks into the store and begins to work. I just watch her go, a faint smile on my face as I sit back down to turn on the car.

"As you wish." I whisper to myself, pulling out her black handkerchief, running my fingers along the blue "v" in the center, before I put it back in my pocket and drive away. "And so begins, another day."