“Driver, I need you to go into that place and see what that old lady is up to.”
The driver shook his head and laughed. “Oh, no, you don't. That’s outside of my job description. I'm not walking blindly into some family squabble. You want to know what that lady is doing, you go see for yourself.”
“No, you don't understand. You'll be safe. I just need you to do this for me, and that's it.”
The driver looked into the rearview mirror and searched my eyes. He must have found something trustworthy there. “Okay, okay. I'll go see what she's doing, then we’re out of here.” The man climbed out of the taxi and walked swiftly to the side door through which Gretta had disappeared moments before.
Good. Confidence is the first step toward being believable.
He reached the door, pulled it open, and then stepped through. I watched the digital clock turn from one-fifteen to one-twenty. Then it was one thirty, one thirty-five. What was he doing in there? I hope he didn't expect me to pay him for all this extra time he was wasting. And if he was in there drinking, he wasn’t getting paid at all.
Finally the door opened and the driver stepped through. I slouched down in my seat in case Gretta followed behind. But there was no sign of her. The driver ducked his head and jogged back to the cab and climbed into the front seat.
“What on earth took you so long?”
The driver glared at me in the rearview mirror.
“Okay. Okay. Sorry. What did you find?” I braced myself for anything.
The driver shrugged. “I don't know if you’ll believe it. And if you believe it, I’m pretty sure you’re not going to like it.”
Oh, great. “Just tell me.”
“That old lady? She’s in there with some guy. She brought the flowers for him. When she got there, the first thing she did was approach him where he sat at a table. She handed the flowers to him and gave him a hug and a kiss. And then she fixed up the flowers in a vase with some water. She set it up all pretty like in the center of the table where he sat.”
My thoughts swam. Where to focus my energy first? Gretta knew a local man? She brought him flowers at a nightclub? They kissed? Gross. I couldn’t think of anything more disgusting than kissing Gretta. I shuddered.
What now? “Hey, do you have one of those smart phone things?”
The guy furrowed his eyebrows. “Smart phone things? You mean a cell phone? Yeah. So?”
“Well how about you go back in there and take a picture for me? I have got to see this guy.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. I’m so not going back in there. They've each had a couple of drinks by now and it's a little weird. I felt uncomfortable already. Let me just tell you there's something going on between the two of them. She brought him flowers. They acted all lovey-dovey like—”
“Wait. The door’s opening.” I leaned forward for a better view.
Gretta backed out the door pulling something. Had she killed him and was now dragging his body out to dispose of it? That would be easier to believe than the alternative, which was that Gretta had a boyfriend.
She propped the door open with her foot and scooted her body back, holding the door open with her hip. She pulled a handle of some sort… Wait a second. I squinted. A wheelchair? Gretta pulled a wheelchair through the doorframe and pivoted it on its back wheels to turn it around facing down the ramp.
“Whoa. I didn't see that coming.” The driver’s mouth hung wide open in surprise.
“You didn't see that coming? You mean you missed the wheelchair?” Way to be observant.
“No, he was sitting up to a table. I just thought he was sitting in a chair. I found it kind of rude that he didn’t get up since, for all he knew, I was a customer. But I figured he didn’t really have to. To each his own, you know? No big deal.”
I couldn’t peel my stare from the scene.
Gretta pushed the wheelchair toward the sidewalk and off they went. Seriously? She was taking him on an afternoon stroll? I felt like I’d entered some kind of alternate universe where right was wrong and up was down.
I peered at the man in the wheelchair. Who was that guy? I'd never seen him before. How did Gretta know him? And why was she pushing him down the street like that? I had to know more. I jumped from the taxi and leaned down to the driver’s window. “I can pay you up to now or you can just wait here and keep the meter running. Up to you.”
The driver shrugged. “I'll just wait. No skin off my nose.”
What did that even mean? I still have trouble understanding slang. Whatever. I didn’t have time to decipher it at that moment.
I ducked behind some rosebushes and made my way along the hedges in someone's yard. Hopefully the owners weren't home.