Lives Between Walls

I have driven this cab for 6 years now. I had seen everything. I had heard every story. It was a small town, Orchidville. So it was easy to get to know everyone. In my line of business, you’re not just a taxi driver, you are also a counselor and a motivational speaker. A jack of all trades. I am all things to all men, as Paul says in the bible. I should be earning more than the peanuts I make right now. It’s bloody ridiculous. However its all good, I managed to get my children through school, and provide for my family through these peanuts. I was real man. I know there are people who earn ten times what I earn and they can’t even take care of their own children. The sole purpose of a man is to provide for his own. It’s for that purpose he has to work. If he can’t provide for his family, what does that make him? He’s not a man anymore. Anyways, I can’t judge anyone – I’m not the perfect man either. It’s been 5 years since the divorce now. One thing I’m happy about though is that my kids are not resentful of me – or I should say us – it wasn’t my fault alone. A marriage of 18 years takes the strength of two to push down. I will admit, I am a bit bitter about it, but I believe everything happens for a reason. For instance I have gained extraordinary wisdom to counsel my clients’ relational problems. Like the one guy from yesterday, “I just don’t understand my girlfriend. She was the one clearly in the wrong and she hasn’t apologized to me.” I remember I glanced at him in the rear view mirror, his young face, full of defiance and confusion – kind of reminded me of myself back in the day. “Look son,” I had replied to him, “You are so convinced that your way of viewing things is right and hers is wrong. What if she is convinced that she is right as well? What happens then?” I remember the look on his face was as though I had slapped him in the face. He was silent and looked out the window as we drove along the country side that afternoon. “Not everything is about wrong and right son, some of it is just difference in perception. That requires compromise,” I smiled. I remember after a long moment of silence he asked me, “Are you married?” That was always the killer question. “Divorced.” I said knowing that whatever advice I may have given, no matter how sound, would be thrown out the window. After all, who wants to take advice from a 65 year old divorcee. I didn’t get offended. A wise man once said, you should only take advice from people with whom you wouldn’t mind switching places. I wouldn’t want anyone to go through the pain I had gone through.

“Sir, cash or card?” An impatient fuel attendant snapped me out of my day dream. “Oh sorry, cash,” I shuffled in my pockets looking for my roll of money. Contrary to popular belief, driving around town and interacting with different people was a very tiring job honestly. Ask pastors. They have the most tiring and tedious jobs on earth. You have to talk to people every time otherwise they get offended if you ignore them. You have to pretend that you are interested in their issues. It’s bloody irritating. And yes I am talking from experience, I used to be a pastor – seems like a lifetime ago. I was a bloody actor and it cost me my marriage! It makes me sad when I see these young pastors going through the same thing I went through.

After I had paid the fuel attendant, I started up my Cadillac Seville and that 1986 engine roared to life as I drove onto Belville Street. I saw a colleague of mine from high school at the petrol station. I tried hard to avoid him – my history in highschool is a rather troubled one. Samantha, my next client was waiting for me to pick her up from her workplace. I knew her times. Around 9pm. Her boss made her work long hours, overtime. I pulled up outside the office. Herman’s Inc, was one of the most prestigous offices in Orchidville. Roger Herman was the CEO, founded the company from scratch he and his wife did. He was the role model of our town, he would be invited to speak in schools, communities, and churches. A modern day mother Theresa. He was the man every one wanted to be. Why he felt all that was not enough that he had to have an affair with his intern, is beyond me. I turned my ignition off and glanced at his Lamborghini parked in the driveway. It was my dream once to drive a Murcielago, now I don’t think I will ever see that dream come to pass. Aren’t I just a ray of sunshine? Nah, I’m just a realist. You get only one shot in life, if you mess it up, you will spend the rest of your life picking up the pieces. And you have no one to blame except yourself. I let out a deep sigh as I relived the memory of hearing that my wife had slept with one of the deacons in my church. “You slut! How could you shame me like this?!” I had screamed as I pushed her onto the floor – picture frames smashing onto the floor, furniture slung out of place. I don’t remember being that angry in a long time. One thing I’m proud of though is that I didn’t hit her. And seeing my kids crying is what caused me to come back to myself that day. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. After the divorce it dawned on me though, that I had also a part in this. We had not been communicating anymore, me and my wife – I had been too busy playing pastor, I didn’t notice that I was not making time for her anymore. Obviously it wasn’t an excuse for her to go screw the bloody deacon – but anyways.

“Open up,” Samantha tapped on the door. “Oh, just a sec,” I said as I pressed the door release button. A tired Samantha shuffled into the back seat and slammed the door. “Sorry for slamming the door,” she whispered, adjusting her nerdy glasses. Her hair was frazzled. “It’s okay,” I smiled. “How was work? I see Mr. Herman is still keeping you very busy these days,” I probed. She shuffled in the back seat, trying to adjust her brown hair, obviously uncomfortable with my questions. “Yes, we are currently quite busy Morty. There’s a deadline approaching next week Tuesday that Mr. Herman wants to meet. But he is paying me well so I don’t mind.” I reversed the car out of the parking and got onto the main road. “I’m sure he is,” I replied.

I had watched Samantha grow up in front of me. I was the same loser who used to pastor her at my church. Seeing her like this just further confirmed my feelings of failure as a pastor and even a human being. How crazy is this situation though? Life must have a bloody sense of humour. Her former pastor now being an accomplice in her affair? “So how are the kids Morty?” She finally asked. “The kids are good, all grown up now – in high school and all,” I chuckled. She smiled, “That’s great. You’re a good father to them.” I laughed. I knew she just wanted to talk much about me because she didn’t want me probing into her affairs. “Well, I hardly think I’m a good role model at all – ” I began to explain. “No Morty,” she interrupted, “not that you are perfect, but you have a good heart.” She smiled at me through the rear view mirror. “None of us is perfect, and we should all be given a chance to be human once in a while,” she continued. “Well,” I replied, “I suppose you have a point – but what if your humanness hurts other people?” She looked out the window to the fields of sugar cane lit by the half moon light – obviously thinking deeply about what I had said. “Well, you cannot blame yourself for not knowing better Morty.” Instantly when she said that, I felt something prick me on the inside, tears well up in my eyes. I thought of the regrets that I felt about my life and how I to this day berated myself on my own foolishness. She was right, I didn’t know better at the time. ” It was dark so I don’t think she saw the tears streaming down my face. God had put her there for me. “I hear you Sammy,” I said after a while hoping that she didn’t pick up the tremble in my voice. We drove for 30 more minutes in silence. “You know he’s married right?” I finally asked her. “Morty…” she sighed rolling her green eyes, “How many times do I have to tell you, it’s not what you think.” I could see her biting her lower lip in the rear view mirror. “I’m just looking out for you love,” I smiled back. “You know this is a small town, and people are talking. Even if its not what it looks like, the bible still says avoid the appearance of evil.” Samantha slumped onto the back seat with a large sigh. “I see your preaching days aren’t over yet Pastor Mort,” she laughed as she smacked the back of my seat.

I dropped her off at her parent’s house in Edgemond Park. “Say hello to your mum and dad for me!” I shouted as she walked towards the gate. I drove back towards my apartment. It had been a long day. I was looking forward to getting back to my apartment and have a nice relaxing bath. As you can see, being a cab driver in Orchidville can be quite tiring – but I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. I believe it is my calling. I believe that I am still a pastor, and this cab is my church. I reach out to the people who don’t have time for the modern church, people who don’t quite fit in. If I can bless at least one person, and get them to change their life for the better – I am happy. This is now my life’s work.