Who saved us?
Peru, 2008
“Be careful with taxi drivers around Lima,” writes the beautiful performer
who for a living steps into cages with lions and panthers
“There have been many rapes and kidnappings lately.”
I’m surprised by this emailed note from him
It feels out of character with his wild soul
As if he’d be the last to worry about such improbabilities
My sister and I fly into Lima from the Amazon
We have enough time to head back into the city again
So we choose a walk instead of extended airport time
Storing our bags, we walk out into the main lobby
A tall taxi driver approaches us
He offers us a ride into town
We follow him out to his taxi
Slightly nicer than most, but with tags
Which appear real
Our ride takes about 30 minutes
We’re all quiet
When we arrive in the main square
He asks if we’d like him to pick us up
For our return flight
We agree to meet at 7pm.
Walk about Lima
Its European feel still throws me
He arrives promptly at 7pm
We get into the backseat
It’s night now
He takes us down into some shadier areas
He makes countless turns right and left
My sister checks in at one point in Spanish
“This is to avoid traffic,” he says
We come into a more lit area
With crowds looking down on the ground
In the middle of the road
Directly in our path, so we must change lanes
To avoid him
Is a man
He is on his belly
With a knife sticking out of his back
Lying in a pool of blood
We drive past him
I look back at the pool of blood
And his body
Is he still alive?
Where are the police?
We’re all a bit shaken
Our taxi veers off the lit road
Into a neighborhood of boarded up homes
And warehouses
My sister and I both shift in the backseat
We’re unclear about what is happening
But we have no choice but to trust
We drive slower now
Into an area with mostly warehouses
I see clustered on the sidewalk
On the same side as I’m sitting on
A group of men, standing
I fear them immediately
I taste their lack of concern for life
I taste their lust
I taste their anger at wealthy white people
I taste their vengeance
Our taxi continues approaching them
Slowing
As if to stop
It’s all happening so fast
I look over at my beautiful blond sister
Fear in her eyes
What is happening to us?
What did we do wrong?
How did we end up in a taxi about to be
Delivered to this group of men?
What will they do to us?
We slow enough so I can their eyes
The leader is standing closer to the edge of the sidewalk
I try to catch his eye
But his eyes are locked
With the eyes of our driver
Who has practically pulled off the road
To deliver us
And then
In a moment
The driver brings his fingertips to his forehead
Nods at the leader
And drives on
In silence
My sister and I lock eyes
Group of men are behind us
As we pull away
Leaving them as we had left the man
Bleeding to death in the street.
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All images and writing are copyrighted. These stories will be published by 2012.
Printed version available upon request.
All feedback and comments are welcome. Please send to blissmeander at gmail.com
All images and writing are copyrighted. These stories will be published by 2012.
Printed version available upon request.
All feedback and comments are welcome. Please send to blissmeander at gmail.com