Driver Drama

He was honest. His kind voice reflected that as he slowed the white car, with its yellow plastic camel’s hump that read, ‘TAXI’.

We had just settled into the cooled air but now he stopped the car. His balding head turned over his right shoulder and in our direction.

“My friend, this place is outside of Jerusalem,” he informed as he looked at the address on Mark’s phone then back at us. “Not by much, but it will be more expensive and I wanted you to know that.”

It was our fault. We hadn’t noticed that our lunch appointment bordered a demarcation map line between Jew and Arab.

“It’s ok,” Slightly annoyed, Mark answered. “Continue on please.”

Before we rejoined the traffic, the driver paused and introduced himself with a name that mirrored our shared hero - King David. For the next forty-five minutes he mesmerized us with stories.

With his mother dying in Zion, our transport king had relocated from middle Europe back to his childhood home of Israel. He and his brother would care for her until that eternal moment was upon their family.

Snarling bumper to bumper was the perfect commercial break for him to show us a recent clip of his media work.

“I talk about sports and mental health.” He said.

He was a sport phycologist with a weekly appearance on television.

“I cannot sit at home doing nothing. That is not healthy,” he said, then chuckled. “It would drive me crazy!” So, Monday through Thursday, he drove his brother’s taxi.

“My friend, as a counselor, what do you think is the number one problem in our world?” Mark asked.

David reached onto his dash, grabbed his phone, and shook it towards the heavens in frustration, nearly scraping his fat, hairy knuckles on the dark grey ceiling. We shared yet another commonality, only this time it was a global enemy – not an Old Testament royal.

“Technology, it will kill us soon…you just wait,” he continued. “Already we see it’s dehumanizing effect on our young. I experience it often.”

I encouraged him that maybe God’s placement of him in a taxi, was for humanity’s benefit.

“Now you are a mobile counselor,” I said, smiling. “Your audience has grown. You have all kinds of needy clients in your back seat, and trapped, they must listen to your good advice!”

He nodded. Somewhat satisfied with my assessment and yet his facial response in the rear view mirror showed pensiveness. I attempted a lighter subject matter.

“What’s the most interesting passenger story you’ve had recently?” I asked.

I am still shocked at what he told us. So much for trying to lift the conversation!

(To be continued)