Starlight Taxi

by C.M. Lanning

  Chapter 8: A Little Chat with God

  The driver’s alarm went off, and he awoke slowly. His red eyes screamed at the light. He hadn’t shaved all weekend, and a small beard was beginning to form.

  Lack of sleep, much alcohol consumed, and still-fresh guilt on his conscience all came together to create the Monday from Hell.

  He got up and walked over to the door where Solstice was sitting and waiting for him. She barked excitedly to see the driver up, but he was unable to return to her enthusiasm.

  Opening the back door, he motioned for his husky to go outside.

  She sat down and put her head on the ground.

  “You don’t need to go outside?”

  She made no move, and he closed the door. Going in the kitchen, he got her out a can of food, opened it, and put it in her bowl. Solstice ran over and started eating immediately.

  “Thanks for being patient with me,” the driver said, patting her on the back.

  He’d been ignoring calls from Karmen all weekend, not wanting to talk to anyone. He’d have even send Solstice somewhere if he could have. The driver wanted to be alone with his guilt, and he had been. What sucked for the driver was it didn’t seem to help any.

  Well Hell. . . I thought two days of suffering would let my guilt move on, but that just doesn’t seem to be the case, the driver thought.

  A clap of thunder shook the house, and the driver looked out a window as rain drops started coming down unexpectedly.

  “Awesome,” the driver muttered.

  He hated being wet, and no matter how good the coat or umbrella he carried was, somehow, he’d always get wet in the rain. Mother nature always defeated him, no matter his preparations.

  Going to get in the shower, the driver grabbed a green towel from his hall closet.

  He stripped, looking at all the scars on his body in his mirror.

  The driver cleared his throat and took a scalding shower.

  After showering and drying off, the driver threw on a blue t-shirt and khakis under a brown leather jacket and his pub hat. He ran outside without taking Solstice with him, and she wasn’t taking that well. He didn’t leave her home alone much, and there was a reason for that. She hated being away from him.

  He heard her howling as he got into Starla. Travis was walking back up his driveway next door in a navy officer’s uniform.

  Why on Earth is he. . . you know what? I don’t have time, the driver thought. He rolled down Starla’s passenger side window and hollered over at his neighbor.

  “Hey Travis!”

  His neighbor turned and looked at the cab driver.

  “How ya doing? I didn’t see you at all this weekend,” Travis hollered back.

  “I’m fine. Hey, listen, can I get you to let Solstice out this afternoon? I’m not taking her with me today. You still got that spare key to my house?”

  He nodded and flashed a thumbs up over at the driver.

  “Great. Thanks! I’ll bring you and Krickett home some dinner as thanks,” the driver said, rolling up his window and taking off. Soon he’d left Earth’s atmosphere behind.

  His earpiece buzzed, and in it he heard Patty’s voice.

  “Driver 2269, you’re off to Tuscaville, a town of 50,000 in the southern hemisphere of Mars,” Pattie said.

  “Thanks Pattie. I’m on my way. Who is my client?”

  “He’s a preacher needing a ride out to Payout City on Oberon,” she said.

  The driver slapped his forehead with his hand.

  Why. . . why me?

  He couldn’t stand religious folks. As a whole, he hated them and found they were a pretentious lot. There weren’t many left in this day and age, but the few that were left believed in ridiculous things.

  This day cannot get any worse, the driver thought.

  “Your client’s name is Dominik,” Pattie said.

  “Roger that,” the driver said, heading off onto Intergalactic Road 34 toward Mars’ southern hemisphere.

  He tuned the radio in to some station that was playing solo piano music. As a song went off, he heard a female DJ with a melodic and soft voice say, “That was Tim’s ‘The Slacker,’ which has been popular in recent months. Coming up next we’ll have one from Brad Wayne.”

  Reaching into his left pocket, he pulled out his white package of Redillo cigarettes. He knew he was running low. Solstice not being with him at all times was allowing him to smoke at a higher rate than he had in past weeks. His mind was loving the nicotine, but his lungs sure weren’t happy with the return of the smoke.

  Pulling out what he discovered was his second to last cigarette, the driver lit it and inhaled deeply.

  He looked over at the passenger seat and did not see his usual companion. This bothered him a little, but his husky would make him happy, and he didn’t think he was worth that at the moment.

  Looking at the yellow beams of light on the Intergalactic Road in front of him, his mind wandered to the little girl of the co-worker he’d gotten fired and arrested. He wondered what happened to her.

  As he got closer to Mars, the traffic got a little heavier. The red planet was more populated than Earth at this point, and the number of people traveling to and from showed that.

  As he came down into the atmosphere, he found a highway heading south and hopped on it.

  He radioed into Pattie and got some more detailed instructions on how to get to his client in Tuscaville.

  “You’ll take Highway 72 south, and eventually you’ll run right into it. I’m showing you’re on the right track now. Your client is about fifteen minutes south of you waiting outside a restaurant called Giovani’s,” Pattie said through his earpiece.

  “Thanks, Pattie,” the driver said.

  He continued south and eventually came upon the exit for Tuscaville.

  “Lets get this over with,” the driver muttered.

  Pulling up to the small restaurant, the driver began to look for his client. It wasn’t long until he saw him sitting outside with a large pizza box next to him.

  The man was mostly bald with some hair left on his sides. He had a white beard that matched the color of his hair, and he was wearing a navy blue suit jacket and matching pants.

  The driver thought he looked like a typical minister, but at the same time, the way this man carried himself on the way to the car didn’t appear to have the arrogance he associated with most of the religious scholars the driver had seen on television or had the misfortune to meet in real life.

  Unlocking the back door, the driver turned and saw his client get into Starla slowly. The man extended his hand toward the driver.

  “Hello, my name is Dominik,” he said.

  The driver slowly took the man’s hand, unsure why he felt drawn to do so. A minute ago, he was ready to shut this man’s mouth if he got out of line with his religious talk, but now, his annoyance was slowly retreating. This guy seemed pretty normal.

  Maybe it’s the pizza box that is throwing me off, the driver thought, looking down at the white box with simple red lettering on the top that said “Giovanni’s.”

  Dominik noticed the driver’s stare and opened the box revealing a couple slices of thin crust Italian sausage pizza.

  “Help yourself. I couldn’t quite finish the pizza I ordered for lunch, and I hate letting food go to waste,” Dominik said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely,” Dominik said, moving the box up to Starla’s front seat.

  The driver picked up a slice and took a bite.

  “Wow, that has some kick to it,” the driver said, his tongue tingling from whatever they put on the Italian sausage.

  “Sorry. I guess I should have warned you it was a little spicy,” Dominik said.

  “Don’t be. I like it; it just caught me off guard,” the driver said, finishing his slice quickly and reaching into the glovebox.

  He pulled out a napkin and wiped his hands.

  “So, Payou
t City?”

  “That’s right,” Dominik said.

  “Why does a preacher want to go gambling?”

  “Oh, I don’t want to. One of my friends is in the hospital there. I’m going to visit him and make sure he’s okay,” Dominik said.

  The driver shrugged and turned back around. He took off, and after a little bit, he was leaving Mars behind and getting on Intergalactic Road 87 toward Uranus’ moon Oberon. The trip would take a couple hours, and the driver, although not really annoyed by Dominik like he thought he’d be, was not wanting to start any real conversation with Dominik on the off chance he’d want to talk spiritual matters.

  About half an hour into the trip, Dominik cleared his throat and asked, “So, how long have you been a taxi driver?”

  “About 25 years,” the driver said, keeping his answer short to discourage any continuation of questions.

  “Wow. That’s a long time. I can only imagine how many miles you’ve put on this vehicle going through the galaxy.”

  The driver bit his tongue. He started to sweat. Turning his head slightly, he put all his effort into not saying what he wanted so badly to say.

  At last, he sighed and gave in. Even if it led to further conversation, he had to correct the minister.

  “Her name is Starla,” the driver said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The cab. Her name is Starla, and I’ve driven her for 25 years,” the driver said.

  “Oh. . . sorry. I meant no offense by calling it a cab. I didn’t know she had a name.”

  “None taken. I’m just letting you know,” the driver said, picking up the last slice of pizza in the box next to him and driving with one hand.

  Dominik let him finish the slice before asking him the next natural question in the conversation between cab driver and passenger.

  “Why Starla?”

  “Because I work for Starlight Taxi.”

  “Oh. That’s unique,” Dominik said.

  The driver said nothing in response and kept his mouth shut.

  Dominik kept the silence for another 45 minutes before trying again to strike up some small talk.

  “Not much for conversation, are you?”

  “I’m not really in the mood,” the driver said, somewhat cross.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that,” Dominik said, somewhat awkwardly.

  Sighing, the driver said, “It isn’t you. I just had a rough weekend. Normally I’m all for chatting up my passengers.”

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  “No. I feel like crap,” the driver said, his cross attitude returning.

  “Well. . . if you want to talk about it, I’d be more than happy to listen,” Dominik said.

  “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” the driver said.

  “I understand. If you change your mind, it looks like we still have a while before we get to Oberon,” Dominik said.

  The driver said nothing for moment and then started to consider Dominik’s offer. Maybe he’d feel a little better if he spilled his guts to this stranger.

  “You just listen? Because I swear, if you start talking about God, I’m gonna send you to meet him,” the driver said.

  “I’ll just listen,” Dominik said, folding his hands in his lap.

  Putting his last cigarette in his mouth, the driver lit up and put the nicotine in his system he’d need to tell this story.

  “I’ve spent the last few days feeling extremely guilty about my actions on Friday. I made a deal with the devil, so to speak.”

  Dominik didn’t even raise an eyebrow at that remark. He just listened, as he promised.

  “The short version of a long story is I got a co-worker fired and arrested so my boss could keep his job,” the driver said.

  He went into greater detail about his deal with Peter and Chris being forced into early retirement. Describing Chris as the father figure he was, the driver actually started chuckling when he described the tumultuous relationship he had with the old man. Those chuckles disappeared when he got to the part of the story about snitching on Jamie’s drugs and Samantha having to watch her mother get arrested.

  “I know that what I did was pretty dirty, but it was the only choice I had to save Chris’ job,” the driver finished.

  Sensing that the driver was done talking, Dominik said, “That sounds like a rough situation. I had no idea that a taxi company could be so. . . well. . . dark.”

  “It’s just the higherups that are like that, apparently. Chris is a great person to work for,” the driver said.

  “He sounds like he’s a good manager,” Dominik said, smiling.

  Another lull entered their conversation as Starla headed on toward Oberon. Dominik looked outside at the infinite white sprinklings of light just on the other side of his door’s glass window.

  Taking a chance at stirring anger in the driver, he took a deep breath and said, “You know, you aren’t like most people. It seems the bulk of society is always looking for other people to blame for their problems, you know? We live in a time where people hate accepting responsibility for their actions.”

  The driver listened, waiting for Dominik to arrive at a conclusion. He made no point to stop the minister from speaking.

  When he saw that the driver was listening to his words, Dominik continued, “You don’t seem to be like that, though. You, do the opposite, which is in many ways just as bad. You look for situations where you can feel guilty and then take it to the extreme.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, consider the woman you got arrested. You were trying to save your boss’ job after he’d been fired through no fault of his own. This woman was breaking the law and company policy by taking illegal substances,” Dominik said.

  “Yeah, but she wasn’t hurting anyone. Not to mention, she has a daughter. We all knew her secret. She just took a pill now and then to take the edge off,” the driver said.

  “I’m not saying this woman is a bad person. For all I know she could be the best mother in the world. What I’m saying is, if you hadn’t turned her in, she could have been caught any other day. A random drug test. . . an angry co-worker. . . a surprise inspection. . . any of those things could have tripped her up.”

  “Still. . . she has a daughter,” the driver said.

  “She likely knew there were consequences to her actions. She just paid for those consequences a little earlier than she expected to. And to top it off, you weren’t turning her in for selfish gain. You were doing it to save another man’s job. . . a man who. . . by the looks of it doesn’t do anything wrong in running his taxi hub,” Dominik said.

  The driver said nothing because he was thinking on Dominik’s words. He wanted so badly to agree with the minister, but he still thought he should feel guilty for costing a single mother, who had never harmed him, her job.

  “Look, I imagine you have other things to worry about on a day-to-day basis. We all carry around our own burdens at times, but this isn’t something you need to carry. By the looks of it, you’ve suffered more than enough for something you never should have felt guilty for in the first place,” Dominik said.

  Nodding his head, the driver looked in the rearview mirror and said, “You make a strong case, preacher man. . . and what’s more, you did it without condemning me to a fiery oblivion. I’m impressed.”

  “I’m just trying to reel you into my church so I can condemn you later,” Dominik said, laughing.

  And for the first time in days, the driver laughed. He laughed harder than he should have because Dominik’s joke wasn’t all that funny, but he laughed until tears were running down his eyes.

  As he wiped the tears from his eyes, the driver entered the atmosphere of Oberon. Starla jerked a little bit, but ultimately, the crater-covered moon let the driver in just fine.

  Of all the planets and moons in the galaxy that had been terraformed, Oberon was perhaps the most luxurious. Cities lined the moon’s reddish s
urface, each with more money than the last, and a number of bad things happened in those cities that the One Galaxy Republic turned a blind eye to due to the taxes the casinos generated.

  I almost felt bad about taking the minister to such a rough place. His kind wasn’t designed to set foot here.

  “Hey Dominik, are you sure this is where you want to go? I mean, for a moral guy like yourself. . . this planet is like a cheese grater waiting to shave you down to size,” the driver said.

  They came upon Payout City, a true testament to just how stubborn some people were to build a city and fill it with more casinos.

  The driver took it slow, letting anyone who wanted to pass him to do so. There were a lot of expensive vehicles on the road, and Starla, who looked like a rustbucket when compared to a standard vehicle, looked especially out of place.

  Payout City itself was built on the inside of a large crater. Black skyscrapers launched upward from the ground and didn’t stop until they rose far above the canyon walls that sought to contain their structure.

  As the driver took the two of them into the crater city, he followed signs that directed him toward Sunrise General Medical Center.

  Traffic was so thick with other floating vehicles that even the experienced driver had to really concentrate to avoid being sent to the hospital in an ambulance.

  Half an hour later, he parked Starla in a lot and got out of the cab to stretch his legs. It was chilly, so, as soon as the driver finished stretching, he got back into Starla and kicked on the heater.

  Dominik closed his door, and the driver rolled down the passenger side window, allowing Dominik to lean in and say goodbye.

  “I hope you are safe. This place has a way of chewing good men up and spitting them out,” the driver said.

  The minister smiled and reached inside with his hand, revealing a black payment bracelet. The driver bumped his against it, and the fare was paid.

  “I’m just glad that you see me as a good man and not some fire and brimstone preacher,” Dominik said.

  “Yeah well. . . you’re an exception to your kind. Plus. . . you helped me through a rough time and listened to my problems. That makes you a good person in my book. I’ve never been a fan of religion. I think men are good or bad based on what they do. They shouldn’t need a deity to make them good or bad,” the driver said.

  “I pray that you’ll meet more good people to change your mind about us,” Dominik said.

  “Don’t hold your breath. I meet some real stinkers with his job. . . but there are some good perks, too,” the driver said.

  “You ever meet any girls?”

  The driver’s smile faded and his eyes widened.

  “Oh shit! I’ve been ignoring Karmen for days while I was attending the world’s biggest pity party! She may actually kill me,” the driver muttered.

  Clicking the stereo display of Starla a few times to see what the local time was on Europa, the driver determined he could make it in time to pick her up from her shift if he sped a little.

  “Godspeed,” Dominik said, laughing.

  “I gotta go, but seriously, Dominik, get out of here as quick as you can. Visit your friend, say your prayer, and call another cab to leave this devil’s trap,” the driver said.

  “I’ll be fine. When I have God standing with me, who on this planet can be against me?”

  “Scary men that carry crowbars in their coats just to beat guys that annoy them,” the driver said, slowly lifting off with Starla.

  “Come see me sometime. I’m the preacher at the-”

  “Only church on Mars,” the driver said, interrupting the minister.

  Dominik smiled and stepped out of the window so the driver could go get his ass chewed out for ignoring his girlfriend all weekend.