The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
“Would you carry my bag out to the car? she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm, and we walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking me for my kindness. “It’s nothing, I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated. “Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said.
When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, “Can you drive through downtown? “It’s not the shortest way, I answered quickly. “Oh, I don’t mind, she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice. I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening. “I don’t have any family left, she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to take? I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
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