The Trade

© R Wood 2000

27

I was running like a man in a waking dream with tunnel vision. Chaz’s death had left me without anyone to talk to or anyone reliable to watch my back. I always felt empty, but without him, the void in me was magnified.

All I had now was Maab and I had to rely upon her to keep me going. It wasn’t a comfortable thought considering I needed a driver for my crew and had to start recruiting. With my instincts nonexistent, I didn’t trust myself to be able to sniff out a SLOP and I couldn’t run the truck with two people. That was when Maab introduced me to a friend of hers named Jacob.

Jacob was a big guy, standing a good five inches taller than me with a heavy build. His face showed serious mileage and his nose was crooked from being broken too many times. He seemed eager and reliable, but what could I tell? Maab vouched for him and for now that was good enough for me. After he passed the basic interview he was in. I hoped he would work out.

He used to work as a delivery driver for convenient stores a sector over, and proved he could handle the truck without a problem. Every time I glanced over, I felt a slight shock to see a big bald stranger sitting in Chaz’s seat. I’d have to get used to it if Jacob worked out. Maab and he talked during the drive the way Chaz and I used to and I felt like an outsider in my own cab.

Jacob took directions well and helped load the small loads I took in without questions. Maab guided him through his first day to take the load off me and I had a chance to think and focus. At the end of the run, I sat in the cab wasting time trying to sleep and thinking about using a sedative to knock myself out. As I debated, the door opened and Maab climbed in to sit next to me. She gently draped her arm across my shoulders.

"Do you want to talk?" she asked, gently rubbing my shoulders.

"What’s there to talk about?"

She carefully pressed the issue and I guess that I gradually opened up.
Maybe it was the grief, or the loneliness, but I ended up telling her more about myself than I ever had anyone else. I spilled my guts, my fears, everything. She listened and encouraged me, but didn’t pry. Somewhere in there she told me she grew up in a gang and used to in a soft company, but I didn’t hear the details. Eventually my emotions overwhelmed me and I gave in to the tears. Maab held onto me and kissed my cheek and brow to comfort me.
Finally she spoke softly in my ear.

"Michael, you have to go on. If nothing else, to prove to yourself that you can. Chaz wouldn’t have wanted you to shutdown like this and I don’t either. I’m right here."

She gently held me and we made love with more gentleness than I thought was possible. I needed that closeness and feeling of caring and finally I slept. I woke once in the night with a start and saw that she was still there. It had all happened and I wasn’t in a dream.

The next time I woke I was alone, cold, and naked. Reality had come back and I sniffled with the start of a cold. Hopefully I hadn't gotten something more serious to go along with it. I dressed quickly and climbed out of the cab, right into the middle of the mech crews as they worked on the parked trucks. I half tripped over a guy welding armor over the fuel tank, and walked out into the bay.

My sense of emptiness was numbed, but the cold air made me shiver. I absently looking at the rows of docked trucks and noticed that one of mine was missing. Macy’s truck hadn't made it back from last night’s run. I just wished I could have seen it. Hasta Bitch, that one is for Chaz.

A hollow smile creep across my face and that old saying about revenge being served cold ran through my mind. Funny, that.

It was another cold, wet day in the World of Progress and I was in it alone and hollow. But then it was my choice.

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