Encounters: Don and the Cabbie

Donatello found that scrounging in a junk yard at two in the morning had certain advantages. He could take his time picking through the piles of stuff, he didn't have to worry about money, and best of all was that there was no one else around.

Don's brothers did not enjoy 'shopping' and rarely accompanied him on his explorations. That didn't particularly bother the intellectual turtle; he knew they did not have his type of imagination and so did not see the wondrous possibilities in all of the twisted and broken things the way that Don did.

His sojourn's out to the junk yard served another purpose as well. It gave Don some much needed alone time. He loved his family dearly, but being cooped up in the lair with them every day was trying. Especially when Michelangelo was bored.

It came as a surprise to him then when he heard the squeal of tires as an automobile was brought to a quick stop outside the tall fence. Not even a moment later another vehicle pulled up, the sound of two separate types of engines easily distinguished by Don's expert hearing.

The engines stopped and as Don began to hear the murmur of voices, he ducked into the shadows, slinging his duffel over his shoulder. Squatting next to a stack of crushed cars, he listened as several car doors slammed shut, a sure indication that the occupants of those vehicles had gotten out.

The chain that held the gate closed rattled and Don sighed as he got ready to leave. Sliding back a few feet, he had just turned when the first set of distinguishable words stopped him.

"Mister, I promise you, I didn't see anything," a man said in a frightened voice.

"Get in there," another man ordered, his tone gruff and nasty.

Curious now, Don crawled along inside the line of deep shadow until he could get an unobstructed view of what was happening.

At the gate were six men, five wearing suits and ties, the other in jeans and a short-sleeved button down shirt. Don caught a glimpse of a taxi and a dark sedan just before the gate was swung shut by one of the suited men.

The man who Don guessed was the cab driver had short, black hair dotted with gray. He looked up at the men who were surrounding him, his terror obvious from his facial expression and stance.

Two of the men carried a six foot long object wrapped in black plastic and tied off with twine. Don had seen enough movies to recognize the scene being played out; he was just a little shocked to discover that these things happened in real life.

"I have a family," the cabbie told them. "I swear, I never see anything. I've been driving that taxi for fourteen years and it don't pay to see things."

"You know something else that don't pay?" one of the men asked. "Going soft and leaving behind a living witness. I been around this long 'cause I ain't soft."

When the cabbie balked, two of the men grabbed his arms and half-dragged, half-carried him towards the car crusher.

Don followed along, careful to stay hidden and silent. About halfway through the yard the group of men reached the heavy piece of machinery.

The man who was obviously in charge asked, "Is that trunk big enough for two?"

Peering around the bumper of a wrecked pickup, Don could see that a car was already sitting inside the crusher. The men had dropped their plastic covered burden on the ground and were opening the trunk of the car.

"Yeah boss, lots of room in here," one of them said with a chuckle, clearly enjoying himself.

The cabbie kicked one of his captor's legs, jerking his arm free when the man jumped back, but when he tried to run the other man punched him in the stomach. With a pained gasp, the cabbie fell to his knees. The man he kicked doubled his fist and delivered the older man a bruising blow to the side of his head in retaliation.