| Courtesy: jschumacher.typepad.com |
Today’s
Prompt:
What if you’re going to write a story about
self-expression with a cab driver as the main character and a fire escape as
the key object? Set your story in a funeral home.
Word Count: 1,855
“All I can say is the dude
deserved better than fate shelled out.”
The
room was well lit as it should be; the air ranked with death, as it should be;
and there was a sense of reserved exhilaration as might perhaps be the case sometimes,
if only we were granted sneak peeks into people’s inner thoughts in a funeral
home.
“You were the cabbie who dropped
him off, right? Run your story by me, again,” said the man dressed in a flannel
shirt and denim pants whose name was Kufre (/coo fray/).
Eset
(/hey set/) grunted. “Dropped him off and was going to pick him up again. That
was before the tragic incident. The guy’s name like I said…”
“Forget his name, cabbie.” Kufre
waved Eset off. “Tell the damn story.”
“That’s bound to be a tad
difficult feat without me saying the name of the deceased. Don’t you agree?”
Kufre
said nothing. He sat in his spot on the pew and stared the cabbie in the face
like a love-lorn man staring through a windowpane into the distance.
Eset
the cabbie grunted and pushed on. “Pius. That was the name. Pius is such a nice
name for a promising customer. It was the first time I’ve had him ride in my cab.
Believe me when I say that had nothing to do with his ill-timed exit from this
side of life.”
“Point taken, get on with the
damned story, will you?”
Eset
blew hot and cold. “Remind me a second time; why do I gotta tell you this
story?”
“Because I am the Private Investigator
hired by the insurance company underwriting the property your customer razed to the ground and you are a potential witness.” When Kufre mentioned the word
“potential,” he raised two fingers on each hand to signify the quote (“”) signs.
“I guess that settles it then.
But I’ll have you remember I said it was the very first time Pius rode in my
cab.”
“Yeah, yeah. Every cabbie says
that when something unpleasant happens. It’s a rule of thumb”
“I am not every cabbie I’ll have you know that. This discussion will proceed on
a threshold of trust and mutual respect. Do we understand each other?”
“Hey! I’m not trying to propose
to you why the hell do I need to
“trust” or “understand” you? I’m investigating a case…”
“Then try cracking your shitty
case without my testimony, Mr. Private Investigator.”
Eset shot out of his seat and was definitely going to walk out on Kufre if the other man had not responded
swiftly.
“I’m sorry,” Kufre said, rising
with Eset. “Please take your seat. I crossed a line I apologize. This is
getting us nowhere, at all.” He placed a hand on Eset’s shoulder. “Let’s start
over, shall we? Come on sit with me and I’ll buy you lunch as soon as we can
get out of this hell hole.”
“If you mind, I’m not convenient
discussing food in this kind of place.
Kufre
laughed. Eset laughed. Tension melted away like sand castles in a storm.
“Okay. We’re good. You picked
Pius up at the front of the mall? Good. Did he look anything suicidal or
depressed; anything that suggests he wasn’t in complete control of his faculty?
“Nada to all your questions. As
far as I could see and I see a lot of
normal people every day, Pius was one of the most positive folks I ever gave a
ride through these mean streets. The atmosphere in my cab lit up when Pius
stepped inside. I thought it would never end.”
“Did he say anything to you
during the trip to his apartment?”
“We talked.” Then as
afterthought, “A little.”
“About what?”
“Life. You know, a little
chit-chat between cabbie and passenger.”
“Oh.”
“Not the kind of talk you
expected?”
“Anything he might have said
hints at his state of mind moments before his mortality would be one step in
the right direction.”
Silence
prevailed for all of five seconds. The investigator smashed it with the force
of a brick against a soap bubble.
“Can you give me details of your
discussion with the deceased?”
“Pius was overly enthusiastic
when he hopped in for a ride at the front of the mall like a man who had just
popped the question to the prettiest of maids and got a yes! I indulge in a little talk with my passengers every once in a
while if I can help it. Unless of course, the fellow is a grumpy, self-righteous
and overbearing bitch. But Pius’ spirit tempted me to strike a conversation
with him.
“He was almost ecstatic. There
was this strange sort of illumination issuing forth off his face that seemed to
light up his person. You could very well have spotted him in pitch darkness
with a face like that one.” Eset paused and fumbled in his pocket. “Smoke?” He
lifted a pack of Marlboro Light into Kufre’s vision.
Kufre
waved it away. “Naw, I’m filled up puffing on this dead air.”
“This,” Eset said, shaking out a
stick of cigarette. “Will neutralize any dead
air.” He put the lighter to the tip of
his cigarette, stopped briefly when he saw the No Smoking sign, shrugged it off and torched the
stick anyway. “Who the shuck cares? I’ll just say I ain’t seen shit. He saw
Kufre raise an inquisitive eyebrow and nodded in the direction of the sign
which was printed on the wall behind Kufre.
Kufre
turned, looked and shrugged.
“My thoughts exactly. I’ll pick
a smoke any day over competing oxygen with these deadbeats. Not that I do not
respect the dead but these are peculiar circumstances, you see. Besides, truth
needs be told.”
Kufre
rapped his fingers against the back of a pew and cleared his throat. It was
time for Eset to get on with the damned story.
“Sorry, the story and speaking
of truth, I remember the fella telling me a story.”
Kufre
leaped to the edge of the pew but kept his yap shut.
“Naw, ‘twas prob’bly nothing. But
I admit this total fall out will never have been if Pius ain’t received that
phone call.”
“What phone call?”
“We were at his place and he was
on his way up when his phone went gaga. Not his cell phone, the landline up at
his apartment. We could hear it all the way from the first floor. Pius’ face drew
blank. It was like he’d been wearing a mask and the ringing grew hands and
whipped it off. He didn’t like the caller prob’bly guessed who it was. I detected
another emotion when he turned and I had a good shot at his eyes. Fear. No, it
was more like suppressed terror. No bones about it, Kufre knew who was on the
phone and it drained the blood out of his face.” He paused and gave his
Marlboro a long drag.
“Intuition raised the sirens of
my heart when he paid me and told me I could leave. On the trip to his house,
he’d literally begged for me to hang around and pick him off to some
unspecified location. For a man to change his mind all of a sudden cause of a
phone call you haven’t even received?”
“I think I’ll need that
cigarette now.”
Eset
gave Kufre a stick of cigarette, lighted it and went back to telling his story.
“I put the cab in gear and was
going to turn it around and hit the road when I heard hair-splitting scream. It
was the young man I just dropped off, alright. I felt my heart in my mouth and
swallowed quickly. Hearing that unearthly yowl from the young fella I just
dropped off, somebody who was before that time perhaps, the happiest chap on
the face of Mother Earth wrung the courage from my heart. It was the stuff of
nightmares. I stopped the cab, tensed up and listened for that foul sound to
rip the air again.
“The second time the yodeling
took off it didn’t sound like there was just one guy up there anymore but a
thousand, an entire community of brainsick banshees. I flew out the cab like a
bat from hell and was about to run up and check up on Pius. I thought maybe,
he’d cut himself on the kitchen knife while answering the phone but I knew
better. That scream was out of the ordinary.
“I came out of my cab and saw
the fire escape. Pius had gone up that way to his apartment. The fire escape
didn’t look right. There was no time to figure out what was wrong with it. I
took the stairs two at a time. When I came to the landing, I threw my weight
against the door Hollywood style. Drastic
situations demand drastic tactics. Besides my shoulder bone, nothing gave. I
kicked against the door and yelled his name but his screams were way loud for
him to hear anything else. Dense smoke sipped out from under the door, a man
would choke in there within minutes. I turned around and rushed outside, I ran
for the fire escape.
“My muscles locked when I caught
sight of the fire escape. It was red hot as if it had just been run through a
blacksmith’s forge and it was animated as if it was operated by remote. Things
began exploding inside Pius’ apartment. I’ll tell you one funny thing, while
Pius came and stood by the fire escape, the animation endured—it won’t quit
moving—at some point Pius went back inside the house to get something, the
bastard quit. Then Pius came back outside…”
Eset
fell silent like radio that ran out of battery power and died.
“When did you call 911?”
“I didn’t. Pius did before he
braved the fire escape. On his cell phone. Then, he ignored the heat wave
coming off that hunk of junk and jumped on it so he could slide down. No such
luck. Pius thawed like a lump of butter on the pavement on a hot afternoon
immediately his body made contact with the fire escape. There was no going back
when he leaped on it and he dripped down on the concrete slabs that covered the
grounds of the apartment building in clumps. By the time his entire mass came
off the fire escape, he was DOA.”
Kufre
was sucking on his cigarette and looking down the aisle as if he was expecting
someone.
“Look, I’ve told you all I know.
I’ll be leaving. They don’t pay me at the cab company for talking, you know?”
Kufre
said nothing. Just kept staring down the aisle.
“Okay. Nice meeting you, PI.”
Eset was turning the knob on the funeral home door when he heard Kufre speak.
“I was wondering if you could
tell me what DOA means.”
Eset
looked over his shoulder, he’d already opened the door and the sun was in his
hair. Before he stepped outside, he answered Kufre’s question in three words and
it was all that mattered:
“Dead On Arrival.”
Eneh Akpan
June
12, 2013
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