Driving Cab: Chapter Twenty-Nine

Driving Cab: Chapter Twenty-Nine

I drop off the first back seat girl and the second out girl directs me to her house a few blocks away. She tells me to be sure to wait until she is safely inside. “The driver last night pulled away before I even reached the steps. I don’t know why they hire some of those black drivers. The telephone company is paying good money to get us home safely. Some of those boys just don’t know a thing,” she tells me.

I assure the woman that I’ll wait until she is safe inside. Two dim streetlights flank the empty block. The houses on both sides of my fare’s house are trimmed with nightlights. Her window throws off a dim brown shadow on the pavement as she hurries up the stairs.

“I don’t understand why a girl as small as you should need to fast,” the remaining girl in back tells the girl up front.

“It’s not that I need to fast. It’s that I want to. I’m fasting to cleanse my system. Fasting is…”

I lose their conversation as I turn toward Shattuck and try to remember where Carleton is. When I stop for the light at Dwight, the girl in back tells me that I past up her street two blocks ago. I hang a U and wonder if she thinks I’m trying to run up the meter. I laugh and tell her I was going to take her out to Albany and show her the short cut back to Berkeley. She smiles and tells me she is too tired for a tour tonight. We find Carleton and she tells the up front girl and me goodnight.

“So you’re fasting?” I ask the girl up front as I turn west on Channing She nods her head yes. “I’ve been going to fast for de past year. I worked wid this guy at the cannery in Hayward last summer. He was trying to lose some weight. He fasted all day at work and jus’ ate his evening meal. I did it wid him a couple times. I gave me a really high feeling.”

The girl tells me she’s been fasting for fourteen days now. Drinking hot tea in the evening and nothing else all day. “I’ll probably go a couple more days this year. It’s the third year I’ve fasted this way,” she tells me.

Wow, she must really get some kind’a high,” I tell myself.

“What does it feel like when you’ve fasted that long? It must be a really high feeling,” I tell the girl.

“Well, I wouldn’t really call it a high feeling,” she answers. We turn and catch each other’s eyes. Her eyes have a bright sparkle in them, the kind of sparkle you see in a little girl’s eyes. Her voice is soft and a little hurried. “I’m much more in tune with my feelings when I fast, especially my sense of smell and touch. I don’t get so upset over little things. There’s a sort of peaceful feeling that goes with it. It slows you down a lot. You ought to try it.”

“Yea, I’m going to,” I say and nod my head up and down. I turn to watch my path past empty cars on the side street. “Do you have enough energy for work and all you have to do?” I ask.

“Well, we don’t really need use that much energy at Ma Bell’s. And, when I fast, there doesn’t seem to be as many things that I have to do. I’m more content to just get in touch with what’s around me.”

“Yea, I know what you mean. I got sort of a spiritual feeling with de little fasting that I did. Do you smoke dope when you’ve fasted dis long?”

“No,” she says shaking her head. Her breasts rise slowly as she breaths in. “That’s the last thing I want to do. Well, maybe not the last thing… But, the whole purpose is to cleanse out your system. To get rid of all the poison you take in every day…”

I nod my head up and down and drive with one eye on the street and the other eye on the girl’s breathing. Our eyes meet again and we exchange smiles. She points out her house and I pull to the curb. I’m sure she must live alone when I see the old wooden Victorian looking building, the kind that’s divided into a kitchen and studio room. As I fill out the voucher, I’m wondering if I should shut my engine off. I wonder if we might not share a cup of tea together. Our hands touch as I pass her the pen and voucher. A tingle of life jumps from her fingers and runs up my arm and down my chest. She returns the voucher and pen, and opens her door. “You really ought to try fasting,” she tells me and flashes a large smile.

“Yea, I will for sure,” I say as we exchange smiles again.

“Maybe you’ll get me again some night,” she says as she slides out of the cab.

“Yea, I sure hope so,” I say and wave good-bye. I watch her climb the wooden stairs to her front door. She searches in her purse for her key, finds it, and then disappears.

With the last out girl gone, I get back to business. I grab my mike and T. C. downtown Berkeley.

Heading for the Shattuck Hotel, I figure I’ll wait for the midnight phone. When I spot on the stand, I figure I’ll have time to use the restroom. I’ve never used the restroom at the Shattuck before and I’m not sure where they are. I walk through the glass door and see a middle aged sophisticated lady sitting outside of a counter on a barstool. There is a distinguished looking middle-aged man behind the counter. Their heads turn my way as I look past them to a red sign beyond the elevators. I pass the counter and strain my ears to hear one of them whisper, “The nerve of him walking straight to the restrooms without even asking.”

When I return to the glass door, I realize that they can’t see my cab from where they are stationed. I don’t have my hat in my hand. I pause at the door and yell back, “If anyone needs a cab, I’ll be right outside.”

Turning on my key, I find the radio silent. I flick my mike button and hear it break the airwaves. Not a soul on the streets. Summer city sounds float into my open window, the swish of passing cars from surrounding streets, the jolt of changing traffic lights, bursts of rock music as patrons enter the club up on University, the buzz of electric lights, the scurry of paper down the sidewalk. A motor sound works its way down Shattuck. I listen to the spray of water from a yellow street cleaning truck.