I grinned at him. “Bony little fist, isn’t it?”
He smiled back, pitying me. “I wish you joy with her,” he said, and turned away.
The cabbies thawed as Rafez walked off. They glanced sideways at me to see if my very presence meant some sort of trouble in the general world of cabdom. I grinned at them and shrugged, and Rafez and his partner drove off, and the sun began to shine again, and the taxiing airplane got louder and louder and then abruptly switched off.
It was another five minutes before the passengers began at last to straggle out, angular with luggage, and among them here she came, out of the U.S.-built terminal, all in white, my Lola, smiling like a sunrise.
All the cabbies wanted that fare, but she was mine. She came to me, carrying her suitcase, and I took it from her, put it on the ground, and folded her in my arms. The other cabbies stood there with their mouths open, forgetting to yell “Taxi!”
All good things must end, even that kiss. Her eyes were full of sparks. “If you don’t take me away from here,” she said, “we’ll really surprise those fellas.”
I laughed, and we got out of there. And we lived happily ever after, the most devoted of brothers and sisters, Hansel and Gretel out of the woods; or at least until the six hundred thousand dollars ran out. But that’s another story.