The Taxi Driver

Rachel Yan (10) | STAFF REPORTER

The man had been standing on the side of the road, a barely distinguishable shadow against the night. When Jim had pulled up to the curb, he had gotten into the car silently. He spoke only the name of their destination before they started off. They drove through the city streets without a word, while the man’s black jacket dripped rainwater onto the car mats. 

Jim glanced at his passenger. It was getting rather late now. 

They slowed to a stop beside the museum. The man shoved a handful of bills at Jim as he got out. 

“Hey, if you wait up for me I’ll pay you more.” He pulled out even more cash and gestured with it. “I’ll give you some of it now. You can have the rest if you stay.” He threw some bills through the window without waiting for a reply. 

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Jim watched him enter the museum. 

Through the double story windows of the museum front, Jim could see the man make his way to the stone penguin statue in the foyer of the museum. He took out what looked like a small handbook and opened it. From where Jim was, it seemed that he was reading aloud from it. 

The statue seemed to crack open; split down the middle, its edges framed with glowing emerald light. The man raised his arm, and crimson tinged light shone down from above. Streaks of red lightning arced around him while a swirling wind swept small objects lying around the room into the air. The tempest raged as dust rained from the ceiling and bits of tiles were ripped from the floor. 

Jim shook his head and edged the car out of the parking spot. He made his way down the road from the museum. If that man had wanted Jim to be his getaway driver, he should have paid him more.