STRANGER THAN FICTION

I’m stuck in this damn cab, right behind a shaved bald head with undetermined color. A line of cars, buses, as far as I can see, is at a standstill. If there are sirens, I can’t hear them. They may be at the opening of the Holland tunnel or else the police are out searching for another John Bundy.

I glance at the name on the driver’s license attached to the plexiglass shield between us. His first name has 23 unpronounceable letters. I don’t bother counting his last name. Gently I knock on the glass, get his attention as he looks me over thru his rear view mirror. I shrug my shoulders. He shrugs his. Should I get out and walk the 42 blocks I have to go? Maybe if I do get out and turn left, 8th Ave. will be open. I hold tight a while.

Arabejurdamukmahl is smarter than the back of his head shows. He slides the glass partition to the side, turns the AC lower and in perfectly beautiful English, says, ‘Isn’t this shitsville? How am I supposed to make a buck?’ A motorcycle officer advices the lined up cars that underground pipes have exploded, emergency crews are working. Traffic is slowly being diverted but it will take time to clear the street.

‘Hey, can I call you Arabe? I’m Mike. Where are you from?’ Born in the USA, Brooklyn!’ ‘That’s a surprise. Here’s one for you. I was born in New Delhi while my father was teaching there. I have dual citizenship I don’t need, as my American heritage serves me well.’ ‘You married, Araba?’ Am I married? Tighter than a corkscrew in a good bottle of French Champagne. I have eight children, four in college. You don’t believe me? Well, look at this.’ He opens his wallet and shows me his picture on an article cut from the NY Times Jan. 3/1999., ‘Cabbie hits one million lottery!’ ‘Arabe, if this is true, why are you still hacking?’

Because I am an educated man. My life is full of things to do, places to go, but the crowds bore me. I like one on one talk. I get smarter every day. Now, tell me about you.’

Not much to tell. I’m divorced. My son and daughter are in college. I still teach mathematics at Utica U. In 2001 I was on Jeopardy, stayed five days, one $250,000 and am going back for the season’s championship match. So , what do you think should be Israel’s fate?’‘They should be free of the constant threats, doom in the Mediterranean. They must stand strong and chastise America for its recent backdown of support. We can talk all day and never find a peaceful, fair way out because I don’t see one.’

‘And Arabe, where do you stand regarding, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Taliban, Egypt, Iran, Iraq?’ ‘I would like to see a nudity law enforced. Without uniforms, without religious clothing, with only two arms per person, no weapons, there would be no wars. It isn’t going to happen, but it would be nice if it did.

The line starts to creep forward. I lean over the front seat and invite Arabe to dinner this week-end. We exchange cards, quickly set a time, a place, shake on it and we move. As I am dropped at my destination, I take out my my wallet to pay Arabe. The fare box is dark. He smiles and calls out–

‘No charge. I own the cab!’