Taxi

A short story to get my creative juices flowing. Prompt: Include a taxi, an old enemy, and Valentine's Day.

“Taxi!”

As the sound of the rain grew louder, so did the desperation in her voice. Juniper Johnson held her purse - brand new Prada, mind you - above her head in a pathetic attempt to block the rain from soaking her hair any more than it already was. Florida was no place for a girl with hair as curly as Junie’s.

After getting passed by so many yellow blurs she was beginning to think she was invisible, finally someone had slowed to a stop to pick her up. Not before, of course, he splashed mud and water all over the front of her legs.

“You couldn’t have missed the f*****g puddle?” she growled, sliding into the leathery back seat. She shook the water off her bag, soaking the inside of the car as she grunted.

“D’you mind?” said the gruff voice from the front seat. Ignoring his words, Junie shook her head wildly. Her curls sent water droplets flying as they bounced. They came to a rest at her cheeks where the wet hair stuck to her skin.

Her eyes scanned the billboards scattered amongst the city. She caught one in particular that read ‘Among the daisies, there are flames.’ It was the slogan to the new campaign that belonged to her boss’s fashion line. It should have been her idea. It should have been.

“You headed somewhere?” the driver asked, adjusting his mirror to meet her eyes. She avoided them, mindlessly scrolling through the e-mails on her phone.

“Hempfield Apartments,” she said. A silence carried through the cab and Junie realized she was breathing heavily.

“Headed home this early on Valentine’s Day?” the driver asked when Juniper locked her phone.

“Yep.”

“No plans?”

“Not anymore. My fiance cancelled this morning. He says he had a late meeting but everyone knows that’s code for ‘I have a red-headed secretary to bone,’” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Her breath was fogging up the window and she blinked a few time, adjusting to the blurry streetlights.

“Finance. That’s a pretty intense label,” he uttered, his voice gravelly and quiet. “Pretty little thing like you must have gotten scooped up early. High school sweetheart?”

“No.”

“College then?” Junie’s eyes caught a glimpse of his knuckles tightening around the wheel. They were white. She winced at the memory of her college love and swallowed the acidic taste in her mouth.

“No.”

“Huh.” His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. She kept his gaze for a moment, getting an uncomfortable familiar feeling. “You’re a business girl.” His questions weren’t sounding like questions anymore.

“No, I’m an accountant.” she lied.

“No, you’re not. You work for that Italian woman,” he said, his eyes still peering into hers in the mirror. She wondered for just a moment how he was going so long without looking at the road.

“How do you know?” she asked, her heavy breaths interrupting her thoughts.

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize me, June Bean,” he said. An icy blast flooded Junie’s bloody, replacing what was there with a fiery rage. There were only two people in the world that called her that. Her ex-boyfriend, who was serving time in a country prison hundreds of miles away.

And Ron.

Ronald Martin who sent the love of her life to prison. Who changed the course of her life with a click of a button. Who destroyed her trust in everyone.

“Stop the car,” she sneered. Her face was hot and she was seeing black dots in front of her eyes. Her anger was making her head swim.

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t-”

“Stop. The F*****g. Car,” she growled through gritted teeth.

“Junie, you need to-”

Before she could stop herself, her hand swung with an open palm against the side of his head. He yelled and swerved into the other lane before slowing to a stop on the side of the highway.

“There’s not another exit for miles, you’re not walking all the way there. Especially without paying me,” Ron said, putting his hazard lights on.

“I don’t owe you s**t. Not now, not ever.” Juniper pressed against her door, trying to open it.

“You can’t open that unless I let you. It helps in case of emergencies,” he said, turning to face her in his seat. “You need to hear what I have to say.”

“What, are you stalking me or something? Did you look me up, you f*****g troll?” she asked.

She couldn’t believe how much anger she still held for him. Years ago when Junie started college at the ripe age of 17, she fell in love with a fraternity boy named Brandon. Brandon and Junie were the talk of the school, until a video they’d recorded for their own private keeping was shown to the wrong eyes. Eyes that belonged to Ron Martin. He took his copy of the video and posted it for the world to see. And they did.

Because she was only 17, Brandon was arrested for making and distributing child pornography and sent to jail for 15 years minimum. Her life as she knew it crumbled before her eyes. She was known as the s**t that got the Golden Boy sent away for good. No one knew it was Ron’s fault. Nobody but Junie. She was forced to move to an out of state school where no one knew her name. That’s how she found her job. That’s why she met fiance. That’s why every day of her life she was stuck wondering “what if?”

“I didn’t plan this. But I’m glad I found you.” Juniper noticed a small tremble in his voice.For the first time, she got a good look at his face. He was pale and thin. Thinner than she’d remembered him.He had dark circles under his eyes and a thin layer of sweat was glistening on his forehead. He looked sick.

She drew in a shaky breath.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, sounding more scared than she was hoping she would. She could hear her heart beating. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Do you know what it’s like to live with regret?” he asked, his eyes gaining a red, watery tint. She held her breath, studying his face. She could feel her blood beginning to boil.

“Regret? Are you saying you regret what you did?” she asked. He paused, letting out an ugly sob. She wasn’t sure why he was reacting the way he was, but his voice was making her angry. “Regret ruining my life? For driving me out of the state?”

“Don’t yell,” he said, his voice twice as soft as hers. This only made her raise hers more.

“Regret exposing me to the world?! For tarnishing my name and stripping me of my pride!?” She was screaming. She couldn’t stop. “You ruined me!”

“Stop yelling!” His words were hot and wet with tears. They pierced her and made her silent. Her teeth grinded together as she stared at him. “Stop yelling,” he repeated quietly.

“Who do you think you are?” She was blinking fast, trying to stop tears from forming in her eyes. Her voice was level but her words were short.

“I live in a constant hell,” he mumbled through his sleeve as he wiped his nose. “Karma was never a kind concept. I pay for what I’ve done every single day of my life.”

She didn’t speak. She judged the look in his eyes. Sorrow. Pain. She saw them both. For a brief moment. She could see the shadow of the man Ron used to be. He was Brandon’s partner in crime. His best friend. The three of them were nearly inseparable. She wondered if that man was still in there. If he was, he was behind a haze.

“Explain,” she said. That one word made him let out another ugly sob.

“Jenna.” His wife. She remembered that name. “She left. She took the boys with her. She said I had a problem.”

A problem? Junie let her eyes wander around his skin, looking for a sign of said problem. She was drawn to his arms, that had scabs running up and down the pale skin. Heroin.

“And?”

“She reported me and I was fired from the university. I drive taxis for a living and sleep in a motel. This isn’t the life I was supposed to have” he muttered.

“Just like prison wasn’t the life Brandon was supposed to have?” she asked bitterly.

“Exactly like that.” If she didn’t know him better, she’d almost believe he felt guilty. Maybe he did. But she couldn’t be sure. “Do you know what regret can do to a person? What it can make them think? Feel? Do?”

She didn’t need the answer to those questions. She knew heroin was one of the answers and she was afraid to know any more.

“I was in the hospital for an overdose three times. Three different times I tried to leave this place and it I couldn’t even do that right,” he said, his voice sounding more and more unstable with every word. Her skin grew goosebumps.

Ron whipped his head around and gripped the wheel, hitting the gas so hard he made Junie bounce against the back seat. Her heart sped up almost as fast as the car. The rain made it hard to see.

“I’ll call the cops,” she said, scrambling for her cell phone.

“Please know. I’ll slow down. I just need you to know how sorry I am. I need to make up for what I’ve done.” He dodged through traffic, only slowing slightly. He came to a screeching stop outside a small, dingy building. Junie blinked a few times to adjust her vision. This placed looked familiar.

“Where are we?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

“Remember when we took that trip to Miami for Greek Week and we stopped at that Indian Buffet that had the amazing desserts?” he asked. Ron and Brandon ate themselves into comas that night. Junie had to drive them home.

“Yes,” she mumbled quietly. She looked at the sign and squinted a bit harder. This was that buffet.

“I need to make up for what I’ve done. But that’s not going to happen unless you talk to me. It’s Valentine’s Day. Join me for dinner,” he said. His voice didn’t sound as desperate as it did, but she let her jaw drop open anyway. Was he serious?

“F**k you! F**k you, and f**k y-”

“JUNIE! PLEASE!” The desperation came back with a wave of rage. He sounded pathetic. But he sounded like Ron. The Ron she knew so long ago.

Junie looked at her wet clothes, then to the side at her wet hair. She was in no shape to go out. And she was in no mood to talk to Ronald Martin. But when she looked at the man sitting in the front seat, nearly a decade’s worth of emotion washed over her. It hit her so hard she felt numb.

“Fine.”

She needed this. She needed closure. She needed this as badly as he did.

With a grunt and a sigh, he got out of the front and ran around the side to open her door. She stepped out of the taxi and let the rain hit her. Staring at the red faced man in front of her, she stood in place for a few moments, looking at the neon sign that lit up the night sky. As the rain washed over her skin, she felt a sense of relief bubbling inside her.

“I’m sorry you tried to kill yourself,” she roared over the thunder as lightning flashed over their heads.

“I’m sorry I ruined your life,” he called back, shielding his eyes so he could look at her.

With a final bolt of lightning, the two walked toward the restaurant, leaving their issues behind them.