Short Social Story – Taxi to Philadelphia
Photo credit: dantada from morguefile.com
Brock packed up on time, without missing a single thing. He was impeccable with his packing, as he’s travelled around. He sets up the security alarm, calls Gary to keep an eye on the house and then takes the cab. The cabbie was a Pakistani driver, Mansoor Ali, and they got in conversation about India and Pakistan. Mansoor had a thick eastern accent, with little white stubble. He looked as if he was in his early forties. He told Brock about how Pakistan was also a part of India once, and got separated in 1947 and since then both countries have had many issues, mostly political. Brock has listening carefully, he never learned this about India before. “When did you came here?” Brock asked- He was interested in his story.
“I came here after 1999 war, I used to work as a small mechanic in Peshawar, I have three beautiful daughters with blessings from Allah (Lord). Every evening before coming home, I would pray to Lord that my family be safe, and they would do the same for me. I got tired of living that way, so we left.”
“And how old are your daughters now?” Brock asked.
“Eldest one is seventeen, middle one is fourteen, younger one is nine and she’s the smartest among all. She speaks very good English, just like you sir,” Mansoor felt proud and had grin on his face when he talked about her daughters. He was a hard-working, proud father. Anybody could see that. Brock smiled and looked outside for few seconds and imagined if he could ever have such family. The conversation made Brock feel escalated as he looked outside and breathe.
Jenna was running around all over the place, checking clock constantly. She knew Brock would be here any minute now. She zipped and unzipped her bag quite a several times. She didn’t had anything to eat all afternoon, she was restless, as she wandered around the home aimlessly; to make sure she doesn’t forget anything. The door bell chimed, she prayed it wasn’t Brock and she ran to open the door. No surprise there, it was Brock. She gave him a small hug and ran towards her room. “I need five more minutes,” she screamed. Brock shook his head and followed her to her room. “Is everything alright?” he asked. “Yes! No! Yes! I mean. Yes, everything is alright. I just get a feeling I’ve forgot something,” she said. “Take a deep breathe. Relax! If you forget something we’ll buy something new,” said Brock. Jenna felt a little relaxed as she took few deep breath and held Brock’s hand. “Let’s move” said Brock. He picked her heavy bag, and she picked the handbags. Brock introduced Jenna to Mansoor. “Hello” Mansoor said, and he picked up the big luggage bag and kept it in the trunk of his cab.
They were on the road again. It was a forty-five minute drive from Jenna’s place. Brock told Jenna that Mansoor immigrated to USA from Pakistan and have three daughters. “Oh! That is so good,” Jenna said. “And what do they do?” asked Jenna. “They all study. My eldest daughter will finish high school next year. She wants to study in a university. But it is very expensive,” said Mansoor. His grief took back Brock to his early memories, when he was seventeen. He would have nothing to eat and wear. Those times he wished someone were there to help him through the tough times.
“What’s her name? The eldest” asked Brock. ”
“Her name is Aaqir” said Mansoor.
“And what does your wife do Mansoor?” asked Jenna.
“She is a housewife. She is very nice and religious women” said Mansoor.
And the time passed by so fast during the conversations. They arrived at airport. Mansoor went to unlocked the truck and took out their bags. “Thank you so much,” said Jenna. Brock told Jenna to grab a trolley as he paid Mansoor. “It was nice to meet you. Here’s your money.” said Brock. He offered him thousand dollars.
“This is too much sir,” Mansoor said.
“It’s your tip,” Brock said.
“But it is too much, I can’t take this sir” said Manzoor as he interrupted him.
“This is for your daughters Mansoor, and here’s my business card. Tell your eldest that she can work for us and study in the university. And we will take care of the tuition,” said Brock as he forced him to take the money.
“You’re a very generous man Mr. Brock. May God bless you with happiness,” Mansoor said, his voice trembled and eyes filled with an inner glow.
Jenna came back with the trolleys. “What happened? Why is there tears in your eyes?” Jenna asked.
“He is missing his mother,” said Brock and nodded his head to not say anything to Mansoor. They left with their bags and checked into the airport.
They decided to go for a coffee as the flight was couple of hours away. It was a connected flight, first stop was Washington, second was Newark and the last New Delhi. Airports are always busy, doesn’t matter what time of the day it is. They went to the Starbucks.
“What do you want?” Brock asked.
“I want an espresso, and you?” Jenna asked.
“I’ll have the same it seems” he said as he stared at her for few seconds.
Brock got them the coffees and as he sat he asked “Are you alright now?”
“I’m alright!” she said while she poured sugar in her coffee.
“Can I ask you something, Brock?” Jenna said.
“If you must,” said he.
“Why was Mansoor in tears?” she asked.
“I told you, something reminded him of his mother, and he was missing her,” Brock said as he turned to the left avoiding the eye contact.
“So, giving him thousand dollars was nothing to do with it?” she inquired with her raised eyebrows and a genuine smile.
Brock smiled and exhaled some air, “I don’t know what you are talking about” said he with a smile and sipped his coffee.
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