Death Benefits Read Free

on the cross street, where there was a lighted doorway of a tiny doughnut shop. As she watched, a pudgy middle-aged man came out the door, already eating a doughnut and drinking a cup of coffee he must have bought in the shop. He stepped around the front of the cab to the driver’s side and set his cup on the hood.
    She decided. She swung the door open, slipped out of the cab, and slammed it shut. The driver’s reaction was to make a tardy grab for her arm. That made his cab lurch forward a couple of feet, then stop with a screech so that it rocked on its squeaky shock absorbers. “Hey!” His voice was muffled, but he pushed a button to open the passenger window. “What the hell are you trying to do?”
    She pushed three twenty-dollar bills through the open window onto the passenger seat. “I’m taking another cab.”
    He yelled, “You can’t do that!”
    She said, “I’m not cheating you, I’m just leaving,” turned, and stepped toward the other cab. She walked with her head up, feeling pleased with herself for speaking quietly and not relinquishing her dignity. She could see the pudgy cab driver chewing and watching her, so she made sure her performance was good. When she was near enough, she said, “Would you be able to take me to the airport?” It was only after she had said it that it occurred to her he might say no.
    He nodded and swallowed. “Sure.”
    There was a loud blare of a horn, and Ellen looked back to see the cab she had just left still in the intersection. The driver twisted in his seat to look out the rear window. The light had changed, and there was a truck behind him. Reluctantly, he glared in Ellen’s direction, then accelerated ahead to get out of the way and disappeared behind the building on the corner.
    The new driver said, “Have a problem with the other cab?”
    “Sort of.”
    “If you have his number, you can report him.”
    “It’s nothing like that,” she said. “I need to get to the airport, and he was taking me out of the way to pick up another person. I didn’t get his number anyway.”
    He got in and started the engine. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you there.” He carefully set his coffee into the drink holder beside him, and stuffed the rest of his doughnut into his mouth.
    Ellen slipped into the back seat, and they were on the 105 freeway in a few minutes. Her heart began to beat hard. It was the same sensation she had felt the only time she had been in a car accident. Her heart had begun thumping like this, not during, but after the accident, when the danger was already past, and she had time to think about how suddenly and unexpectedly it had come. She consciously relaxed her body, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply until she felt better. When she opened them again, the driver had brought them onto the San Diego Freeway, and she recognized the stretch ahead.
    When the driver came off the freeway on the long, straight ramp at Century Boulevard, he said, “What airline?”
    “Just drop me at the Hilton Hotel,” she said. “It’s up ahead. On the right.”
    The driver was mildly surprised, and a bit confused, but it was not the sort of confusion that required him to ask the young woman any questions. He knew where it was. He knew all the major hotels. He pulled up into the circular drive, got out to open her door and accept his payment and tip. He got in again, recorded the fare in his log, then picked up his radio mike to call in, and let his eyes follow the young woman through the glass doors of the lobby. He watched her until she disappeared. Then he drove out onto Century Boulevard and maneuvered into the Arrivals lane of the airport entrance. At this hour, he was probably going to spend a lot of time in the taxi staging area, waiting for his turn to drive up and take on a fare. After he got there, he was still wondering.
    She had been angry, and maybe just a little bit afraid of the other cab driver. He knew she was not the sort of person to argue about