Big Yellow Taxi

Posted on Tue May 30th, 2023 @ 4:39pm by McKenna Lockhart

1,636 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: 1. Year One
Location: South New Orleans

The yellow taxi’s turn signal blinks with several noisy clicks before the vehicle turns from one main road to another. In the driver’s seat, a dark-skinned man with strong arms tapped his chocolate hands in the ratatatat of the jazz tune which was playing quietly on the radio and his lips hummed out the tune just as well.

In the back seat, a woman cast her cool blue eyes down into her lap. She was closing in on thirty, and was beautiful enough that the driver kept sneaking glances back at her through the mirror at least once every ten seconds. Her hands rested on the lap of her pale pink sundress as she sat next to the two solitary bags she’d brought with her back to the place where she’d first started.

The streets of New Orleans still sang a crooked jazz tune that she had never really learned to appreciate. By the time she was old enough to care, she was being whisked away to her grandparent’s ranch in West Texas. Instead of trumpet players, she spent her days with cowboys and ranch hands, and was soon wearing big hats and talking in that lilting form of southern speech which a recent President had made famous. Now that she was back in this city, the city of her father, she felt more like a stranger than a friend; like a pair of cowboy boots in a box made for sneakers.

The car stopped at a red light, and the smell of a distant food she couldn’t identify flowed through the open window of the cab. It had to be meat of some kind, maybe pork. Immediately, her stomach growled and she moved her perfectly manicured hand to it. She hadn’t eaten all day, and the sun was already touching the horizon past the buildings around her, casting a long shadow on the increasingly-purple streets. A day of flight under her own power; the first time she’d ever dared fly over the ocean, had left her speechless and exhausted. Again, she caught the eye of the driver, and this time she returned it.

“You look tired sweetheart. Everything okay wichya?” He said in his south city accent, modified with the eager speech of a man talking to a very beautiful woman. He leaned forward toward the mirror and his eyes traveled the back between her face and her collarbone twice.

“Oh, I’m very tired.” She said, her west Texas accent rivaling his. Her expression took on a playfulness when she spoke, and despite how she felt, she offered a very friendly and welcoming smile. “It’s been such a long day, but I’ll make it through.”

He smiled back at her, encouraged by her receptiveness.

“Where ya headin down from?” he asked, testing the possibility of conversation with her.

“Not down, sir. Over, actually. I just came in from across the ocean to get myself a slice of New Orleans.”

“I slice of New Orleans, huh?” He asked, returning her smile. He was handsome and carried himself with a swagger this city was good at producing in men. She had missed that in Europe. “What you tryna get into, honey?”

“Well, right now I’m tryin to get into a hotel room where I can shower, and then I’m lookin to grab a bite to eat. I’m starved.” She said, placing her hands on the soft skin of her toned legs. “I’m from here, but I’ve been gone my whole life.”

“Oh, I see,” he said, nodding and licking his full lips confidently. “You want to get reacquainted with your birth city. Shouldn’t be too hard. This city stays awake all night long.”

The way he looked at her wasn’t foreign; she had seen it a thousand times before. He was respectful and kind, but behind the gaze he was wondering what she looked like naked. She liked that look. In fact, she had always liked any look a man gave her. It was the worst thing about being her.

“That’s good. I love to stay awake.” She said in return. “But not tonight. I’ve got a whole schedule to keep tomorrow morning, and I can’t let a hangover mess it all up.”

“That’s a shame, miss. I would love to show you a good time.”

The tone in his voice was chocolatier than his skin, and she found herself locking eyes with him in the mirror and demurring flirtatiously before she could catch herself. As boy-crazy as when she was 14, McKenna Lockhart never seemed to learn her lesson. Still better than a Russian terrorist, she supposed.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest thing, carin about little ol’ me? But I need to stay focused. I can’t go riding’ around with my cab driver right now, even a tall, dark, and handsome one.”

He recognized the compliment and inclined his head, showing off his strong jaw.

“You seem like the kind of woman who keeps herself focused most of the time.” He observed, looking at her again in the rear view mirror.

“I do, actually. Keeps me busy and…out of trouble.”

“Well, when’s that magical time when you let some of that pressure off and have a little fun?” He asked, smiling charmingly.

In Siberia, her life had been two years of work, and she had rarely taken any time at all from training herself, training others, or charming unwitting youngsters into following her terrorist ex-fiancé to unwind and do something reckless.

She giggled and tossed her shoulder-length blonde hair, being overtly flirtatious.

“And you’re suggestin’ you might be the one to show me a good time?” She asked, quirking a brow.

“I am suggesting just that, miss.. I know all the hot spots.”

She didn’t blush as she would have years ago, but lowered her head so that she was looking up at him in the mirror. Desire danced in her captivating eyes, but she remained graceful, playing her cards close to her chest.

“I bet you do. You seem like a man who knows exactly the right spots.” she said, putting her hand behind her ear and twisting a stray curl. She giggled softly, but forced herself to break eye contact and look out of the window as the car made its final approach toward the hotel. “But I can’t, darlin’ not tonight.”

He looked disappointed for a second, but kept his cool.

“Alright, I respect it. You need to stay focused. How about I give you my number and you can call me if you change your mind? Or if you need a ride.”

“You offerin’ to be my personal chauffeur?” She asked, a smile, turning up her pretty red lips.

“Hell yes, if you pay.”

They laughed together then as the car came to a stop. She moved to grab one of her bags.

“I don’t have much money right now. I was planning on walking after this, actually.” She responded with a sigh, her eyes still dancing with him in the mirror. He turned around to look at her directly and she smiled again. He was handsome.

“Like hell you are.” He responded. “You can pay me back later if it comes down to it. I take favors. This isn’t a safe area and I’m not going to have you walking around like that.”

“I’m not starting my time back in New Orleans owin’ a bunch of money to my cab driver.” She said, her smile wavering slightly as a subtle argumentative tone started to tear its head. “And where do you get off telling’ a lady what to do?”

“I’m keepin’ a lady safe. Date or no date, you need to go anywhere, call me.” He said rather commandingly, and put a pencil across a scrap of paper. He handed it to her and gave her an expression that made it clear he expected her to take it. “Names Derrick Woods. I didn’t catch yours.”

She was annoyed and it showed on her features. It seemed, everywhere she went, there was a man telling her what to do. She took it despite herself, however.

“I didn’t give it.” She said with more than a hint of sudden attitude. Her heart began to speed with irritation, that familiar cocktail of emotions that got her in so much trouble all her life was coming back. She liked them handsome, and she liked them bossy. It seems like they could always find her too. “McKenna Lockhart.”

She gave the answer as if she were ashamed of her compliance. She knew how to take charge too, but not in cases like this.

“Oh, what a chance. Same name as that nutcase running for the senate.”

“What?” She asked, furrowing her brow with slight annoyance.

“Morgan Lockhart, our congressman. He’s running for that senate seat this year.” He responded informatively. “Wait…you aren’t related to him, are you. Cause if you are, I’m sorry I said he was crazy.”

“Oh..”she said, looking confused as her large eyes widened in subtle fear. “ that asshole? No.”

She opened the door then and leaned her vuluptious frame out of the car with her bags before he could get out and help her.

“Thanks for the ride.” She said, and quickly made her way for the from door of the hotel, her hips swaying quickly as she went.

“Hey, wait!” He said loudly just before she entered the building, but she either didn’t hear him or ignored him. “You didn’t pay me..”

He spoke under his breath and sighed. It was coming out of his check, he guessed.

OFF

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