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Life’s Funny
Rolling with Humanity in the Age of Apps
Recycle precious metals. From teeth crowns. We collect them from dental offices. Get out of here. Seriously? Like gold and silver? dark and rainy when Yeah, it’s big money. Sometimes people in the offices keep we land in New York. An airport bus TO NY the crowns. One place, they waited until the dentist was A away, then they had a big party. trundles us to a distant lot where rideYou’re lying. sharing cars pass through a one-way He laughs. No, I swear. chute looking for the travelers who’ve Tonya turns down a narrow street, slows. It’s Trey’s destination, but it’s obviously not his home. We look for 19. hailed them with cell phone apps. No one sees 19. It’s dark. We roll down the Honda’s waterWe’ve missed one car already; the driver got there beaded windows. There’s 23. It’s the only visible number on before we did and picked up another rider. Shivering, we tap the Uber icon the short block. The buildings are plain. Not residential, at least to my where’sagain as we huddle under a temporary covered walkway, all galvanized pipe and the-front-porch way of thinking. Trey seems unsure of what he’s looking for. logo-plastered vinyl. That’s OK, he says. I’ll get out here. He thanks Tonya, hops out, fetches his bag, Tonya will be driving a dark Honda. We watch her oval blue dot creep slams the trunk lid. across a map of the surrounding streets. We hang on the dot as she inches Tonya drives on. closer and — wait, what? — the dot is backing up. The car is silent until I speak. OK, I’ll say it. That was weird. Tonya arches Tonya, don’t do it! You can’t back up in this traffic! Have you lost your her brows, squelches a smile. She sees a lot, but she doesn’t say a lot. She’s putmind? Where are you going? ting herself through nursing school. Wants to be an RN. The dot stops. For a long time. Is she broken down? Did she get a better We pick up another rider, a young woman dressed for a night out. She offer? doesn’t go far. At least we can find the address. We’ve been with Tonya for a We’re sorry, Tonya! We love you, Tonya! good 40 minutes. Revised thought on pool cars: The fare won’t be cheaper if The dot moves again. Cue Twilight Zone music. Dee-dee-dee-dee, dee-deeyou ride around for an hour, picking up and dropping off. dee-dee. The blue oval turns, by jerky degrees, onto a side street. Ah-ha! She At least Tonya will make decent money. She’s in school, and her car won’t knows a short cut. Smart girl. last much longer. The engine rattles like an old sewing machine. I see concern We relax as it creeps closer. skip across my husband’s face every time she accelerates. All right, Tahnnnn-ya! I know this makes me a real mom, I say, but I worry about the safety of The blue dot is on top of us. We raise our gazes to look for the car. The app women drivers. Have you ever had a problem? says we’re pooling with someone named Trey. More riders make for a cheaper Only with a woman, Tonya says. We laugh. Normally, she doesn’t drive ride, right? late, when the drunks are out, but that one time, it was fairly early and the lady An athletic young guy sprints for the Honda at the same time we do. was smashed. When they got to the destination, the lady said it was the wrong The trunk pops open. He throws in his duffel. We telescope down the place, but she didn’t have another address. She cursed Tonya. handles of our carry-ons and heave them in. If the lady had been sober, and it had been daylight, Tonya would have You Trey? kicked her out of the car. But it was neither of those things. Yeah. So Tonya kept driving, talking, giving up other riders, waiting for the fog of Nice to see you. alcohol to lift. I don’t think I could have done it, she says, without my nurse’s You, too. training, dealing with people not in their right minds. I couldn’t put her out. We settle into the Honda. Tonya’s playing her music. Rappy, soulful, She said some bad stuff. But no way could I put her out. feminine. She turns it down a little. Conversation kindles slowly, then catches. Here we are. Trey’s from Dallas, but he’s not a Mavs fan. He’s a Pistons fella from way back. Good luck with school, I say. Take care of yourself. We like the Cavs, we say. You, too, she says. Ah, LeBron, says Trey. We step into the chill. The air is a sea of vertical dashes. It’s hard to see, but Yep. all around us water clings to water, the source of life, and tiny pools glisten in What brings you to New York? he says. the dark. Visiting our son. You? We watch the little blue dot pull away. OH I live here, but I travel a lot. What do you do? Maria Johnson can be reached at ohenrymaria@gmail.com By Maria Johnson
It’s cold,
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
April 2018
O.Henry 25