Chapter 10: Stubborn
The driver sat in his bed with his earpiece on, talking to Chris.
“Hey man, I’m gonna need to take a sick day today,” he said.
“You already used your sick days when you were in the hospital,” Chris said.
“Well. . . then let me use a vacation day please. I still have a couple of those left, don’t I?”
“You should have a couple left, yeah. What’s wrong? Are you really sick, or are you just trying to escape Monday?”
The driver looked down at Solstice and sighed. He muttered, “I just need a day, okay? I’m not fit to be driving my cab right now.”
Silence filled the digital conversation for a moment until Chris said, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Get better soon.”
“Thanks.”
The driver ended the conversation and then tossed his earpiece onto the nightstand, rolling over in bed. He felt pathetic, but it seemed that the events of the previous day involving his mother’s sudden appearance and Karmen’s exit from his life had taken more of a toll on him than he thought possible.
The driver’s evening was filled with a sleepless night and a little bit of alcohol. After three unsuccessful hours of trying to find sleep, he went into the living room and plopped down on the couch, turning on the television and watching whatever garbage happened to be on at 3 a.m.
He kept watching and waiting for his eyelids to close, but they never did. Words from his mother and Karmen kept bouncing around his thoughts. What did Shirley mean by she’d take away everything he loved? Was she capable of drastic things like murder? Kidnapping?
When his alarm went off to get ready for work, he tried to move, but his body was too tired. Getting absolutely no sleep, the driver felt and looked like trash. It took everything he had just to reach over on the nightstand for his earpiece to call in sick to Chris.
After thoughts of his mother left his head, he’d start thinking about Karmen again.
I was moving too fast? How is that even possible. It wasn’t like I was planning on marrying her at the end of the week, the driver thought.
When thoughts of Karmen finally exited his mind, he’d be back at Shirley again, and the vicious cycle did not end.
He stayed in bed most of the day, getting up to take a piss now and again. He was too lazy to go into the kitchen, so, he drank out of the sink in his bathroom, and once he got up to let Solstice out.
Getting delirious and desperate for sleep around 2 p.m., he walked into the bathroom and found some of his old emergency sleeping pills. Once in a while the driver would suffer bouts of insomnia, and a doctor had given him what he liked to call “just in case” pills.
Reading the label out loud, he said, “Take one with food for relief from mild insomnia.”
Opening the small white bottle, he reached in and grabbed two pills with his index finger. Throwing them into his mouth, he poured himself a glass of water from the bathroom sink and swallowed the pills.
Within 15 minutes he could feel them working.
“Oh sweet relief,” he muttered.
His eyes closed, and they did not open until a loud knock at his door jolted him awake.
Looking over at his bedside clock and saw it was 9 p.m.
He felt a little better than he did earlier as he got up and stretched. His knees popped loudly, and the driver groaned.
Popping his back, he yawned.
“I love those things,” the driver said, sighing in relief.
Opening his bedroom door, his feet met the wooden floor of his hallway, and the driver’s toes immediately felt its cold surface.
“Did I take my socks off in my sleep?”
Shaking his head, he went to the front door.
I’m going to go out on a limb and guess Karmen hasn’t swung by to make up, the driver thought to himself.
Opening the door, he saw he was right. It wasn’t Karmen.
“Hey boss,” the driver muttered, seeing Chris standing before him in a red shirt and jeans. The red shirt had a pirate on it.
“Wow, that’s not work attire,” the driver said.
“I had to go home to grab something, and I figured I’d change clothes before coming over,” he said, walking past the driver into his house.
Solstice came over, and Chris kneeled down to pet her.
“Hey girl. You taking care of my boy for me?”
She barked in response.
Standing up, Chris revealed a brown paper bag in his right hand.
“You look like Hell,” Chris said.
The driver looked down at his wrinkled clothes from the day before. He had on a simple blue long sleeve shirt and jeans. Running his hand over his chin, he realized he had a nice five o’clock shadow forming.
It’d also been about 36 hours since he’d showered.
“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting company,” the driver said.
“I knew you weren’t doing well, so, I decided to come see how you were.”
“Did I sound that rough on the phone?”
“You called Starla your taxi,” Chris said.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Chris said, walking into the kitchen and fishing around for two glasses.
When he found them, he walked back into the living room and sat on one end of the couch, pulling out a bottle of Highland Park 18-year-old Scotch whisky.
Walking over behind Chris, the driver asked, “What’s the occasion?”
Opening the bottle, Chris said, “You tell me.”
He poured himself a glass and then one for the driver.
“I think yours has more in it,” the driver muttered.
“The game works like this. You tell me what’s eating you alive, and you get more alcohol,” Chris said, taking a sip of his glass.
“And what do you do in this game?”
“I listen to you whine, and I get more alcohol,” Chris said.
The driver didn’t object, taking his glass and sitting down on the other side of the couch. There was one cushion between the two men. Both were leaned back with their feet on the coffee table in front of the couch.
Not knowing where to start, the driver said nothing.
“Karmen?”
Nodding, the driver sighed.
“That’s really only part of it. The real meat of the sandwich comes from yesterday’s events involving my family,” the driver said, taking a sip of his drink.
“Family?”
“My mother, apparently,” the driver said.
Chris choked for a moment when he heard the word ‘mother.’ Coughing and trying to get air back into his lungs, Chris asked, “Your mother?”
“Yes, my mother. She stopped by yesterday,” the driver said, finishing his drink.
Chris sat up and poured him another drink.
“Go on,” he said.
The driver explained that his mother was loaded with money and wanted him to give up his current life. In exchange, she’d groom him into the new president of Rider Corp., the largest electron transportation company in existence.
He told Chris about apparently being kidnapped by his grandfather and how he was dropped off at an orphanage so he’d have a shot at a life that wasn’t spent obsessing over money. He concluded with the news that his mother was trying to force him into a marriage that would ultimately lead to his family’s company merging with their number two competitor.
It took about 90 minutes and four drinks for the driver to get through his tale. When he’d finished, Chris whistled.
“Your mother sounds like a real bitch,” he said.
“I couldn’t agree more. Oh, and Karmen broke up with me after all that. I spent hours sticking up for her to Shirley and Octavia, and then she dumps me. The irony, right?”
The two finished their drinks at the same time, and Chris poured the driver another glass.
“You know, you could have gotten some ice from the freezer for these,” the driver mutter
ed, thoroughly feeling the effects of the alcohol on his system.
“You know, you could have pulled your testicles out of the closet and put them on to drink these,” Chris said.
“Shut up, old man. At least I still have my balls. I doubt you ever got yours back from Nancy,” the driver said, chuckling.
“I suppose you’re right there. When you get married, they don’t exactly stay in your sock drawer. They go into the wife’s underwear drawer, and you never get them back.”
“Marriage huh. . . that must be. . .something,” the driver said, looking over at Solstice sleeping in her doggie bed.
“Listen, you’ll find someone else. You dated Karmen for half a year. She didn’t want any more, and that’s her loss. At least she told you straight up and didn’t run off with some other man,” Chris said.
“Well, I do have that going for me. My former girlfriend is honest. That’s. . . wow. . . that makes everything better,” the driver muttered.
Chris scowled and then punched him in the nose, causing him to fall sideways off the couch.
“Ow! What the Hell, old man!”
Getting back up, the driver rubbed his now-red nose.
“Get over yourself. So Karmen dumped you. Guys get dumped every day. I must have been dumped by 20 women before I found Nancy,” Chris said.
“Now I know you’re full of crap. I doubt you could have ever gotten 20 women to date you, even out of pity,” the driver said.
He picked up his spilled glass, which amazingly wasn’t broken, and reached for another drink.
Solstice came over to examine what little drops of Scotch had populated across the wooden floor.
“Karmen didn’t know about your mother’s bad timing. You can’t blame her for that,” Chris said.
“Yeah. . . I guess you’re right,” the driver muttered.
The two sat in stillness for a moment, listening to Solstice lick the wooden floor.
“I guess now that you’ve explained your mother’s plans, it lines up with the memo we managers got today from David Lester. You know him?”
“Yeah. . . we’ve met,” the driver said, remembering his unpleasant conversation with the Starlight Taxi CEO to get Chris’ job back.
“Well, he received a surprise offer from Rider Corp. to purchase Starlight Taxi early this morning. By afternoon, he’d sent out a note to managers that he was going to sell the company, apparently to your mother. When she gets her hands on Starlight Taxi, she’ll undoubtedly gut the company,” Chris said.
The driver exchanged a glance with Chris immediately, not believing his ears.
“She can’t do that!”
“Actually, if she owns the company, like she will by close of business tomorrow, she can do what she damn well pleases,” Chris said.
That bitch, the driver thought, scowling.
“There’s no way the finance regulators of the One Galaxy Republic would let such a quick deal go through. Stuff like this takes time, doesn’t it?”
Chris shook his head sadly.
“She’s loaded. She probably paid off enough regulators to get the deal pushed through. That’s one of the advantages of extreme wealth. Nobody can stop you,” Chris said.
The driver stood up and clenched his fists.
“She won’t get away with this,” he said.
Chris sighed and patted him on the back.
“Look, I get it. This is a bum wrap. You’ve a right to be angry, but that’s why we’re boozing it up tonight. Short of giving into your mother’s demands, I don’t think there is anything you can do about this one. Now, you impressed me when you got my job back last time, but this is something you won’t be able to pull off,” Chris said.
“Bullshit,” the driver said, wobbling into his bathroom.
“Where are you going?”
Fishing through his cabinet, he found a small blue bottle of pills. He opened it and swallowed a blue pill with a drink of water. Then, he slowly walked back into the living room.
“What did you do?”
“I always keep a box of sober pills for emergencies like this,” the driver said.
God bless those little pills full of nanomachines that go through the blood and clean it out, the driver thought.
“Okay. . . so you’re going to be sober in a few minutes after spending the past couple hours working hard at getting drunk. What are you up to?”
“I’m going to fix this,” he said.
Chris stood up and said, “Listen to me. There isn’t anything you can do about this one. These people are big, and the amount of wealth and power they possess is staggering. I get that you hate not being able to put pieces back together after something bad happens, but this isn’t something you can just go out and change.”
“I can’t accept his, Chris. You may be content with just giving up because the challenge looks impossible, but that isn’t who I am. You know I’m not just going to let this go,” the driver said, locking eyes with his boss.
Chris growled and slapped his face.
“My God, you’re never going to change. No matter how hard I’ve tried to raise you, you’re always going to be this ridiculously stubborn guy, aren’t you?”
The driver smiled as he felt his mind resharpening and the effects of the alcohol leaving his system at a highly accelerated rate.
“Sorry, Chris. Apparently it’s in my blood. My grandfather was, according to Shirley, the most obstinate human in existence. The guy made mules look docile and submissive.”
“Promise me you aren’t going to do something stupid,” Chris said, a genuine concern filling his voice.
“I’m not going to make a promise I can’t keep,” the driver said, turning to go.
Solstice walked with him, eager to go wherever he planned to go.
He opened the door and turned back, matching eyes with Chris.
“Hey. . . you know. . . you and Nancy are who I really consider my mother and father, right? This new bitch trying to come into my life to force my hand doesn’t change that in the slightest.”
“Those sober pills must not work all that great. That sounds like the booze talking,” Chris said, laughing.
“Whatever, you geezer,” the driver said, turning to leave.
“I know, kid. In spite of your inhuman stubborn streak, we’re proud to have raised you as best we could,” Chris said.
The driver didn’t turn around but merely coughed and said, “Love ya too.”
He left immediately after, running out to Starla with Solstice.
Getting inside and starting up the taxi, he took off. At 11:30 p.m. local time, there wasn’t much traffic above the skies of Lefont as the driver hit the gas and hopped up through the atmosphere into space.
He headed for Phobos, hoping two actors in particular would be on the world famous for its living movie sets.
After about an hour, the driver arrived at Mars’ moon and put Starla down just outside of the same hotel he’d once picked up Sammy and Don from. The two actors were famous for playing brothers that were detectives on a drama called Pieces. They’d played the same characters for 19 years, and the driver had convinced them to try some new things last time they were all in the cab together.
Walking into the hotel through two large sliding glass doors, the driver looked down at his reflection in the white marble floor.
“Damn this place reeks of elegance,” the driver muttered, thinking of Shirley.
Walking up to the front counter, he spoke to a man wearing a blue suit and a red tie with a shaved head.
“Can I help you?”
The man’s glance seemed to place an underlying tone that said, “Hurry up and do what you need to so you can leave, urchin.”
This guy should marry Shirley and take over Rider Corp., the driver thought.
“Um, I’m a cab driver for Starlight Taxi. Could you please page two of your guests and have them come down to the lobby?
“Wh
at room are they in?”
“I honestly wasn’t told. They’re Sammy and Don,” the driver said, forgetting their last names at the worst possible time.
The man typed a few keystrokes into his glass display and said nothing for a few seconds, reading through some sort of spreadsheet.
Damn it, I knew they wouldn’t be here, the driver thought.
“Ah yes, the detectives are in 407. I’ll call them down immediately,” the man said, picking up a phone and calling up to them.
I knew they were here, the driver thought, smirking and forgetting about his previous speculation full of despair.
A few minutes later, they came down, surprised to see the driver. He led them over to a different part of the lobby and asked them if he could talk with them for a little bit.
Sammy nodded and said, “Sure. You want to grab a seat at the bar?”
Don groaned and said, “Oh come on! The Cubs are on!”
“Please. It’s dire,” the driver said.
He rolled his eyes, and the two of them led the driver over to the bar on the first floor.
They sat on red bar stools in a place that the driver had to admit wasn’t as upscale as he imagined it to be. This is where movie stars came to drink while on Phobos, and it looked like a regular bar back on Earth.
He put his elbow on the glass bar in front of him and ordered beers for himself, Sammy and Don.
“We’ll listen as long as you’re paying for the booze,” Don said, smiling and taking his pint.
Sammy, clearly the nicer of the two, asked, “What’s up?”
The driver proceeded to explain his situation as quickly as he could. He told them about his mother, why she hated him, and how she was going to buy Starlight Taxi and have it shut down, costing hundreds of drivers their jobs, just to make a point to the driver.
When he finished, Don said, “Well, you have our agreement. She’s definitely a bitch.”
Sammy asked, “She’d really spend millions to buy this company just to gut it and make you suffer?”
“Yes. You’ve no idea of her depravity,” the driver said, ordering another round of beers for Don and Sammy.
Don took another drink and belched. Then, he said, “Well that’s an interesting tale. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the booze and story, but. . . what are you telling us this for?”
Sighing, the driver said, “This is going to sound crazy and direct, but I’m out of options. This was sprung on me fairly quick.”
“Spit it out,” Don said.
Sammy elbowed him.
“Please outbuy Rider Corp. and purchase Starlight Taxi before all of the drivers, including myself, lose their jobs,” the driver said.
Sammy and Don exchanged glances.
Don asked, “You want us to. . . buy the cab company you drive for?”
“I know it sounds crazy, and I suck at financial pitches, but I heard the company turns a profit. David Lester, the CEO, is actually pretty wealthy,” the driver said, lying about the profit rumor.
Sammy took a drink and looked at the driver saying, “When do you need an answer?”
“It’s still about 11 p.m. in San Francisco where the corporate office is. I’d have an offer into David Lester by 8 a.m. tomorrow if I were going to sneakily buy it,” the driver said.
Don finished another drink and smiled, saying, “I don’t know the first thing about taxis.”
“You could learn, I’m sure. It can’t be that hard,” the driver said.
“Even still. . . we’re actors, not investors,” Don said.
Before the driver could say anything more, Sammy put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Just let us think it over. I can’t make any promises, because frankly, you’re probably asking us to shell out a good chunk of our fortunes, and this is such a random request and small time frame.”
“I understand. All I ask is that you talk it over amongst yourselves. You don’t even have to tell me your decision. I’m sorry to spring this on you two, but I am desperate,” the driver said.
“And we’re the only rich people you’ve met,” Don said.
“And that,” the driver said, coughing lightly.
The driver got up and bumped his payment bracelet against the bartender’s bracelet, clearing his tab for the drinks.
“Thanks for hearing me out,” the driver said.
“Sure, anytime,” Sammy said.
“Well. . . not anytime. I’d prefer you not ambush us with random business ventures in the future,” Don said, but Sammy elbowed him in the gut again.
The driver smiled and then walked back outside to Starla.
Getting in, Solstice whined.
“You probably have to go, don’t you? Hurry up and go in those bushes before anyone sees us,” the driver said, opening her door.
Amazingly enough, she hopped right into the bushes and did her business. She got back into the car right as a large man with gardening tools started to run up.
“Hey!”
“Uh oh. Exit stage right,” the driver said, laughing as he took off with Starla.
The gardener’s shouts vanished as Starla headed into the blackness of space back toward Earth.
Well, I played my hand. I guess it’s time to call and hope my mother’s hand is worse than my own, the driver thought to himself as he hopped onto Intergalactic Road 34 and went back home.
The next day the driver went to work as usual, and though he tried to think of what would happen if today was his last day, he failed. Don and Sammy were all he could think about. He kept wondering incessantly if they would come through for him.
As the workday drew to a close, he found himself in San Francisco outside the Starlight Taxi headquarters.
Going inside, he managed to snag an elevator and head straight up for David Lester’s office.
Getting out of the elevator and walking down the hall into David Lester’s lobby, he saw a familiar secretary.
The man that was David’s secretary was wearing a black button-down shirt and a gray skirt showing off her shaved legs.
This guy. . ., the driver thought.
She frowned when she saw the driver.
“Hello. . . Tanya,” the driver said.
She did not return the greeting.
“I’ll ask nicely this time. Will you please tell Mr. Lester I’m here to see him?”
She slowly buzzed her boss.
“Mr. Lester? That stupid cab driver is here again. What do you want me to tell him?”
“Send him in,” David said.
She looked shocked at David’s command but motioned for the driver to on ahead of her into the office.
The driver slowly walked into his office, and when he got inside, he saw David, wearing that same purple suit he apparently loved so much. His red hair was cut a little shorter than the driver remembered from last time.
Looking directly into David’s brown eyes behind his black-framed glasses, the driver said, “Mr. Lester, I believe you know why I’m here.”
He sighed and walked over to the driver.
“I guess you’re here to see what happens with your mother,” David said.
“Shirley told you about our relationship?”
“Yes. I have to admit, I was quite shocked to learn that the heir to Rider Corp., one of Starlight Taxi’s biggest competitors, was working for me.”
“I’m not the heir-”
“Spare me your family drama. I don’t care,” David said, raising a hand.
Tanya’s voice came over a speaker and said, “Mr. Lester? Shirley Rider is here to see you.”
“Send her in, please,” David said.
The glass door opened, and in walked the driver’s mother, wearing a blue sundress, pearl necklace, and matching pearl earrings.
“Clarence, I thought you might be here,” she said, smiling.
He said nothing but watched as David walked over and kissed her hand.
“It??
?s a pleasure to have you here in San Francisco,” he said.
“The pleasure is mine. I respect you as a business colleague and rival. I’m glad we could work out a deal to bring our companies together,” she said.
Well, that’s it then, the driver thought, looking outside the window. A thick fog had bellowed into town, and the driver could hardly see the other office building across the street.
An awkward silence filled the room, and Shirley asked, “Are the papers ready to sign?”
David let out an almost inaudible sigh and said, “As much as it pains me to say, Ms. Rider. . . I sold company just minutes prior to your arrival.”
The driver gasped and looked at David with wide eyes.
“Surely you jest,” Shirley said, a worried tone filling her voice.
“I’m afraid not. You see, early this morning, two clients called me up and made me a better offer, so, I signed off on it a little bit ago,” David said.
“Call it off! I’ll double their offer,” Shirley said, raising her voice.
“I can’t do that. Any more money, and the offer would be taxed at a higher bracket by One Galaxy Republic tax enforcers. The two clients stayed just below that limit making the most profit possible,” David said.
The driver smiled, and Shirley looked at him with eyes full of hatred and disgust.
“What did you do?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the driver said.
“Don’t play coy with me you insufferable idiot!”
“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about Ms. . . was it. . . Rider?”
She growled, and the driver turned to leave.
“Nice chatting with you, Mr. Lester,” he said.
“This isn’t over, Clarence!”
He turned around one last time and locked eyes with her.
“Why don’t you go take a long walk off a short pier,” he said, before leaving through the glass door of David’s office.
Walking out, he turned and looked at Tanya before saying, “I’m sorry I was rude to you before, Tanya. Please accept my apology. By the way, that skirt looks great on you.”
He left a flustered secretary behind and walked into the elevator. Once the doors closed, he jumped and began to laugh with joy at having outmaneuvered his mother.
“I can’t believe Sammy and Don came through for me,” he said, laughing so hard his eyes began to water.
Exiting the office building, he walked over to Starla and hugged the taxi.
“Well girl, looks like we’re going to be just fine.”
A few people walking by murmured amongst themselves, but the driver didn’t care. He’d just saved his job. . . and for the second time. . . Chris’ job; not to mention, the jobs of thousands of other drivers.
In the end, he got to continue doing what he loved best. . . driving Starla through the galaxy, meeting new people, and all beside his faithful canine companion. Karmen was still on his mind, but he wasn’t nearly as sad about the situation as he once was. That sorrow had been overshadowed by excitement at saving his job and pissing off Shirley.
The driver was convinced he’d find someone else if it was meant to be. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to come close to death to meet his next girlfriend. Until then, he had Starla and Solstice. He really couldn’t have asked for anything more.
Epilogue:
It’d been a few days since the driver had last seen his mother and saved Starlight Taxi. Things were pretty much back to normal. He was driving around the galaxy from planet to planet, picking people up and dropping them off.
It was Friday, and the driver had just dropped off a customer on the moon in Senora City.
The customer, a strange woman traveling with two parrots, had just paid him and left when another customer got into the back seat.
“I’m almost done for the day, so, if you’re wanting a ride to the edge of the galaxy, I’m afraid you’ll have to call another cab,” the driver said without looking back.
A familiar voice said, “I’m actually heading to Earth. Is that close enough?”
The driver turned around to see Octavia sitting in his back seat with a cello case.
“I have to admit. . . I didn’t expect to see you again,” he said.
“You’ll be pleased to know I’m taking your advice. I just left my parents a note explaining that I’m going to travel for a year to find myself,” she said.
“And the family money you are so used to?”
“I suppose I need to get a job to earn my own money,” she said.
He smirked and asked, “Where to on Earth?”
“Any place you think is hiring,” she said.
Thinking for a moment, the driver said, “I think our communications lady at the Starlight Taxi hub in Lefont is about to retire. I happen to know the boss fairly well and could probably put in a good word for you.”
“I’d like that,” she said.
“Lefont it is, then,” he said, putting Starla up into the air.
Octavia was silent for a few minutes while petting Solstice, who was laying in the front seat, but she eventually asked, “So your name really isn’t Clarence, is it?”
“God no.”
Octavia pulled out a bag of small crackers from a pocket and opened it, asking, “What is it, then?”
“My name is Arthur Thompson, but if you’re nice, I might just let you call me Art.”
About the Author:
C. M. Lanning works as a journalist in Fayetteville, Arkansas. In his spare time, he writes entertaining science fiction stories like you’ve just finished reading.
He also enjoys writing in the paranormal genre and was inspired by such writers as Steven Gould (Jumper) and Garth Ennis (Hellblazer). He can be found on Twitter (@critical_kurt) and Facebook (C. M. Lanning).
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